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The floods came last night ..

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sandy nelson

everything got broken.

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The Apotheosis of War

‘Dedicated to all the great conquerors, present past and future.’

Vasily Vereschagin.

‘What is permitted to gods (me) is not permitted to cattle (you)’ Putin 2014

Cochran here …

I only write what I feel .. AC

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beach bounty

A bloke could wander up and down windswept beaches for half his life before finding one of these.

So I stuck it in the boot and brought it home. Later on that day I wondered what the stink was when I got back into the car to go get Friday night’s pizza.


existentialism and an email from dan webber – no relation to dewey

Header pic is of the late Dewey Weber, aka the little man on wheels.

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Lyon’s big six, the kid, Usman the Muslim, champagne and brown snakes

another day in australia

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Рахманинов “Благослови,душе моя,Господа” Rachmaninov Vespers 2

A letter to ‘Sticks’ Perrottet, the Premier of NSW

I would like to apply for the soon to be advertised position of CEO of he RAT Audit and Fine Collecting Procedures Department.

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the old couple living next door

surf art

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the concrete jungle

not everybody got lucky in the jungle.

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cedric, raw prawns, garlic, lemon rind, parsley and pasta

Good tucker that.

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beach grit

Eyes down, a mile of deserted beach to walk

up and back.

Two miles.

With the sun being at its obliging best,


on this half-hidden jewellery of sand-scrubbed shell,

fragile, transparent.

Years of abrasion, and never a foot to crush them.

Beaches are best when they are deserted, left alone,

for centuries.

three boys

Russell on the left, Wayne in the middle. No recollection of who took the photo, perhaps it was Wayne's sister, Danielle. Danielle. She who never showed an interest in the fifteen year-old boy gazing at the camera so intently

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not all board riders were boofheads – two bondi fables.

Certain nuances of behaviour could be observed last century when the membership congregated in the sun outside the polio pit

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The South Bondi Surfboard Riders Club Logo – updated yet again.

Getting that weapon  loose of the boardshorts would strangle a herniated prolapse.

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thrush trumpet

it was the recurrent, non-consensual
low grit/high volume sand enemas that got me.

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gone fishing

I’d be walking past this family, doffing my cap and saying ‘how do ye do.’ before carrying on towards the northern dunes, which I would climb.

Dunes that ended at the shallow waters of Rose Bay.

Where I would fish a little east of where the Wintergarden sits, bring in a few blackfish.

That’s what I’d do.


North Bondi then and now

Pic by Uge at Aquabumps
The 235-tonne boulder at Ben Buckler was believed to have been thrown up by heavy seas on 15 July 1912.

Beautiful Bondi – 1926

It’s not often we get a glimpse such as this of the generation before ours, and partway into it I watched those kids coming out of Bondi Public and heading for the beach – looking for the ones with no shoes, then I looked at their sun-bitten faces and saw Bondi written all over them.

Then there was the babes … and a handy demo of toothpick directionals. The Palatial Bondi Hotel. The kid who wouldn’t get out of the panorama beach shot. A beach inspector telling two grown men wrestling in the sand to pull their heads in. It’s all here …

No sound.

Lifted this from Bondi Longboarders FB .. thanks for finding it.

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