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Posts tagged ‘out of bondi’

the surfers reunion

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.

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the truant

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.

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the diplomat’s boy, an encounter

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.

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the end of lancaster road

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

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surfoplanes ~ their place in the scheme of things

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.

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kevin (the head) brennan does breakfast

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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the country girl

She had no name.

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