Medical breakthroughs

Apparently last Friday night I rang the surf posse at some inconvenient hour and arranged to go surfing on Sat morning. I say apparently, because the first I knew of it was waking up with the world's worst hangover to take a call to tell me this, also I'd lost my jacket, doh. So from first-hand experience I can tell you that a 6'3 tall person can adequately curl into the foetal position in the front seat of a Saab and that, although the Soulfuel burgers are bollocks, their coffee is a life saver. Travel or mucous has knocked out the rest of the crew so it is just Zombie and myself who turn up at Torquay to find deceptively good conditions and a jostling mosh of longboarders off the reef tip. This suits the Stubbs fine as he rides em from out back while I content myself with either dropping in all over him or picking up the many pieces on the second break. Lovely jubbly! Certainly the rejuvinating powers of a good surf cannot be doubted as new life flows within me and Zombie notes a certain parallel with the intro to the film Big Wednesday. If anyone ever develops an alternative surfology medical treatment I've got dibs here first. Anyhow, we partake of the blasphemous "dirty bird" for lunch and are home in time for nanna naps, nice day out.

Lockie


"I don't wanna be a star. Have my picture in magazines, have a bunch of kids looking up to me. I'm a drunk, Bear, a screw up. I just surf cause its good to go out and ride with your friends"
-- Big Wednesday