the cow in the culvert
Mudcrabs, dead cows and the twin with no nose.
May 31
What may be construed as sex in public places may be something else entirely.
May 26
Watching a fellow eat a hamburger can be enlightening, in a philosophical sense.
Surfoplanes and their place in history - a meaty exploration of values.
They are unlike surfers these men, they never talk about loving the sea.
Me and a pretty young kid, and there’s the wall over there with youngsters about her age on the game and waiting on a slow death for about ten bucks a toss. What a bloody nightmare that joint is.
Bellows of rain filled tempest swept inland from all seaward points of the compass.
The surfer, in his boundless mothersea, holds sacred the one square metre of rootless swirl that separates him from the several out of town oafs who have paddled out and surrounded him.
She fills her short skirt with health and hurry and she fiddles and fiddles with her coins and notes. Gary sits up shakingly erect and his black-toothed smile would scare off a Corso rat.
Nowadays every bloody car on the road is up your exhaust like male dogs testing each other for signs of Proestrus, never mind the scenery.
We travel through the landscape like a man stamping through an empty house of fragile windowed walls
Ben Buckler, the world's bumpiest wave. A condensed appraisal.
A big man, tanned and snowy haired, he has spent four days in solitary sport amongst the massive south swell that has swept up the coast