me and the duke of edinburgh
he wished me good luck and walked on ..
Oct 21
The rules of social engagement for the surfer on the town.
A dark passageway, all the walls wet and over there a young man racking up a firehose. He watches you pass by. The smell in here is overpowering.
Wordless, he beat Vince insensible, and then left him by the roadside. Roadkill.
Justin Beiber doesn't surf, yet - but he might.
I’ll stick with the pros, jews and prostitutes, after all, Bondi is my background.
The man had grabbed at the girls' bikini bottom and yanked it off.
We would croon soft and intimate abuse as he raged back at us for our illegitimate insults; us, the founding Bondi Fascista.
The secret surf corporation agenda - exposed here.
We had no time for their Prefects and sport-games, their cadet corps and exams, no time for their rules and commandments, their uniforms, their classrooms and lessons. Their floggings.
Lennox head is more than just a perfect wave - the pub does sausages