Oceanic Addictions

As I have previously mentioned one of the reasons for starting this blog was to channel some of my creativity and energy that would have normally been eaten up by surfing as mentioned in this post. Anyway my ear is about 90% good and my ENT has allowed me to get back in the beautiful brine at the bottom of my street. I have only caught a few waves in the past few weeks but the joy has been overwhelming. Fuck even just paddling lights up my soul and floods my lobes with serotonin. Today due to a lack of swell me, Alpha, The Cougar and my bro went on a paddling mission around the headland from one metro beach to another. The reason for our faux watermanly efforts is that me Alpha and the Cougar are heading to the Mentawaii islands in two weeks on a surf charter to reacquaint ourselves with the barrel and try to avoid losing too much skin to the reef. Paddling fitness will be a prerequisite for a good time so we figured a few hours at sea would be a good down payment on (hopefully) some filthy steaming indo pits.

I sit here typing while sucking back on a crisp ale relishing the specific slight ache in my shoulders that only time on a surfboard can deliver, while secretly hoping that my ears can cope with the heavy smashings they are going to endure in two weeks. I cannot wait for the near future where both ears are fixed and strong and I can get back into my daily fix of saltwater therapy - oh the joy I will feel.

Oxygen thief with a handy cam

Sometimes I worry for the future of the planet - especially when there are morons with access to technology like this dude. Crying over the plight of Britney Spears is like claiming that Kate Moss was sniffing vitamins and was set up, or that Mel Gibson has never emptied a liquor cabinet and treated our Semite brothers with disrespect............

Rolling in the RS4

Sometimes this blog feels like a small child that has been left in the basement to play with fireworks, explosives, power tools and firearms - so much potential but oh so neglected.

I had the absolute sheer joy of piloting a fuck off bad boy vehicle at the weekend. Due to a trusting and benevolent employer who is having a few license issues I was allowed to swipe his black brand spanking new bad boy Audi RS4 convertible to head up the hunter valley for the weekend with my significant other.

For those not in the know this car is the thinking mans muscle car. Where your average bogan gets wet for a shitty commodore with a V8 or a boring vintage Mustang your modern existential contrarian gets a jolt of visceral joy from the RS4. Driving this biatch with the top down, fat bass heavy tunes blaring on a Saturday arvo in the sunshine was pure egomaniacal rev head joy. This car eats up the road like Roseanne Barr with the munchies and sticks to the tarmac like its on rails. The best part of the whole deal is the roar the finely tuned v8 makes when you (carefully) floor it in sports mode out of the lights or onto the motorway. The sound of those 8 cylinders purring makes you feel like Audi have captured and shackled eight of those dragons from lord of the rings and stuffed them under the hood and they are not happy about it. Driving this car has ruined me for life as its unlikely I can get one any time soon being that its worth about a third of the price of my house.