this came in the mail
the day that is completely un-remembered
Sep 23
- about halfway through this punishing dune routine to the Joey and back the other day our suffering solitary stalwart surfer almost trips over a chap lying in the bloody NUDE on the track.
Right now Doug decides to pull back the dressing on his ulcer for a looksee, and the swollen wound swallows half his hand before some babe wearing a black lace hanky strolls past, all silky wobble and perve. We observe the moment with a tranquil and hormonal grief as Ken retires into the dank shadows for another piss. Five an hour is the usual but who’s counting.