bob evans and his bronte surf movies
Grunts and gasps, howls and sighs, laughter and heavy breathing. Ecstatic groaning. Roaring approval. Surf movies, or porn? ..
Posts from the ‘Works’ Category
Mar 6
billy cobham on drums
We remembered the late Frank Zappa and his astonishing admonition of another Sydney Audience ' Don't come stoned ! '
never look back
Well I walked up the beach and past the pandanus cove and stopped a while by a surf school proned out on the sand as their coach pimped his authority over them and played for passing trade amongst the thronging idlers who wandered their aimless path with me.
surfers who work ~ what to wear?
The temptation to rip a piece of metal from the unresisting flesh of an apprentice may well be impossible to resist - kindly take this as a warning.
melbourne and its attractions
Stayed in a Lygon Street hotel (bookshops, Italian touts outside all the dud restaurants) and all about 20 walking minutes from city centre . Lovely pub, not too pricey, and lots of very friendly young men hanging around the lobby - wanting to see my room. So many interior decorators down there.
surfers who work ~ ambience in the workplace
Neighbours to the site should also be expected to have towels, wetsuits and surfboards draped hung and lent on their fences and shrubs. They should expect that their water supply be made available, their daughters admired, their cars ridiculed, their driveway rights ignored, and their hearing diminished.
pan-fried crumbed snapper with anchovies.
- and there .. ! The distant white trail of a surfer gliding down the black face of the fourth wave. The biggest of the set.
the kimono girl ~ china stories 2
Everyone is drunk. Young Chinese men roam around the room with their bottles, demanding a fair sharing of the rotgut - they jam their bottle necks into the white faces demanding a toast.
the stomp, the dance of demolition.
The Stomp was never a dance; it was a stamping grinding deafening assault on the integrity of whatever building was unwisely hosting the event. It was a wrecking ball, a demolition dance, a brutal thing
the bondi astra, barry, and the death cut
There was so much sand on the floor of the public bar at closing time that the tiles were covered, and after twenty years all the colours had been rubbed away, sandpapered off by the bare feet of a generation of shoeless drinkers.
never marry the bass player
How quickly a fragrant aftershave sours to funk when the stranger's breath down the back of your neck is misinterpreted. They started twitching after fifteen minutes, chucking little girly stares over their shoulders at me, getting all agitated.
billie holiday – nina simone ~ strange fruit
When Holiday performed the song in her nightclub acts she always closed with it, the waiters stopped serving and all the lights were turned off bar the one pin spotlight onto her face
west of byron bay
Al is a Dylan man, lifelong, plus he has no nighttime eyesight – and his emphysema betrays a swamped puddle of rotted lungs – yet he smokes and smokes.
bloodlines
A city of prayer for the young dead, fathers and sons. A home of mourning and sorrow, where victory wept hardest.
petebowes.com 