Dec 26
Street fighting is basically an artless exercise but not one without a degree of creative culpability, shrill histrionics and very real and enduring pain, and there are several basic rules that should not be forgotten by the receiver.
Aub Laidlaw also had a very big problem with women in small two-piece swimming costumes – so much so that he took to measuring them when he was unsure of their legality, being a measurable requirement of municipal morality ordained by the local council at the time,
As he grew into a lad he lived within a skin that looked like chipped brick, and he was covered with pimples that weighed so heavy with a skinned over load of pus he looked like a young Licara Friddi, without the maturing psychopathic inhibitions.
Five warrior bikers on their way into the café stopped on the footpath, and they too turned towards the car as we slid away, their faces expressionless; massive men, armour plated under their jackets, brutal men, fear mongers.
Ray had no schedules; he would to wander in and out of building commitments as often as the weather changed and he was fearsomely unapologetic for missed appointments and delivery times
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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