Dec 2
How his bed smells in the mornings, and his clothes are always stained. His mind is loosening so quickly now and his conversation rambles here and there, flicking between fiction and reality, and he drinks far too much, every day.
And after they have gone Max’s father patrols the dark streets and collects his own collateral, dumped surfboards. He usually collects a couple each year, and after three years of hard looking he found what looked like an old MP Fangtail, ridden to the death, but still in one yellowed and bruised piece.
some music in almost un-listenable, excruciating, tuneless, repetitive, unimaginative, insulting, juvenile, over the top, experimental, punishing, metronomic, pulselike, pianos being played like guitars, unbearable, rubbish, altogether MINIMALIST.
enjoy ...
Frank introduced us to the River the day after we took him home from the Harrington pub, the day he had been beaten insensible by the three dark men who had travelled up from Sydney looking for the local plantation. Three bikers.
How they roamed up to him did these fellows when their unpredicted veer bisected the boy’s solitary path and they, wordless and all but stinking with rejection and loss, looked at him hot, and wordless, like a lover.
They all watched me as I left the building, dozens of them standing around their bikes with their women, but I sensed a respect as we drove away, for the violent have always deferred to the daft.
They had been drinking all day that day and he had sent her over to the bottle shop for a few bottles to take home, and the long bump under the back wheel outside the drive-in bottle shop as he backed in was too soft to be a ramp
The boy would lay naked on his bed reading of the woman’s life of appeasement and subjugation. He had a jar of Vaseline by the bedside that he used to facilitate his daylong masturbation sessions.
Her once clear eyes long blinded by cataracts, her memory ruthlessly scoured by Alzheimers, her legs sodden with a gangrenous discharge that had confounded him for weeks - she would clasp his warm hand with her own cold and taloned claw the instant he laid it down softly by her side.
Sometimes we followed him a little way along to the first ledge before losing our enthusiasm. Lester though would amble along the airy ledge and swing down on one of the steel bars that led to another lower level
Mick Wright ran a caryard in Sydenham, twenty sale units in the lot, all repossessed, and he remembered the silent beard with an army kitbag who paid cash for the ’65 Bedford in 1974.
arvo part was born in estonia in 1935 and is one of the most prominent living composers of 'sacred' music.
His music fulfills a deep human need that has nothing to do with fashion (steve reich)
Not enough has been written about the Surfoplane, particularly in regard to its legitimate role as a precursor to the hard-edged BellyBoard, and the modern day Boogie Board, and nothing at all has been written about the techniques and skills necessary to have had a successful session.
He was a troublesome jockey sized kid with an Irish pugnacity, an improper regard to discipline, a feral cunning and a consummate and admirable deftness in the surf. His agility, and ability to control the heavy boards of the time seemed effortless.
Stratham J advertises himself as mature and buff. He is a regular at Shipsterns and Cow Reef and he holidays at Tahiti and Sumatra. He has a career in editorial fashion and travels widely with the Victoria’s Secret Lingerie roadshow.
Rufus went to Hawaii in the 1964 season to ride big Kaena Point and a large group of large gentlemen made themselves known to him at Haleiwa on his first night in town
petebowes.com 