Posted in Observations on December 11, 2009 by bullee
Beer in a coffee cup, no one must see, my visits to the urinal have increased but no one must tell. I drink at work as it slashes productivity and increases the chances of me saying the truth inside. I raise my cup with my name on the handle again. Must remember the dregs are a give away and will create an interesting smell for my return on Monday morning. Can I be assed to wash this vessel of evidence though? No, the cup will come with me when I leave and live in my home. There it will serve as a reminder of work beers, their sweet taste, their rule breaking taste. Cup raised, salut, drink, punch computer, place cup in pocket, walk away, weekend is here.
Posted in Daily Froth on December 5, 2009 by bullee
Aussy Surfing Life has the scoop of all scoops; the Rebel Tour makes it’s comeback. Wild blog hearsay and rumour about to fire up again. Ry Craike features in the Rebel Tour roster, no one knows why. His hatred of bum bags/fanny packs should deny all competition entry.
Yeah, I’ve been away again. This time a work based trip led me to the desert. There were things in the desert that changed my perception of an office, of a chair and of a trip agenda. The meaning of all this left me around the time the desert did. In the air, making pretzels last an hour or more, listening to the rattling of an aged flying machine, a thought took refuge in my mind. It was initially a simple; “do I want to ride my Quad or Tri-Fin next time I jaunt coastward”? I had only apple juice in my system, no alcohol, why then the instant headache? Because of the question you fool, or maybe it was the overhead lights, but whatever, it was the question. I used to be a Quad conneseur, reveling in speed. Recently though, new purchases in the Thruster department relegated the Quad to being the “sketchy shorey surf” board of choice. That was mean of me. I feel adding a fin has lost me something else and so the sky question was born.
I’m imagining staring out over Jordan River, seeing the unabated beauty of clean lines, 90 mini mals, 3 rippers and 14 actual tree logs spread out along the point. What do I want to use to join the menage a vingt-trois? Who should accompany me out into the fluid playground and allow me to wide poo-stance destroy section after section after section?
I did not answer this question in the air. I was eventually distracted by an offer of more juice. Unanswered questions have a habit of wedging inside my head. I would like to remove this wedge as the other day I forgot how to photocopy because of it. Here are some inspirational images to help the wedge removal.
Posted in Observations on November 19, 2009 by bullee
entry deniers
i could win this
alt tab claw
November may be ’stache cultivation month, but that has done nothing to dilute its mission statement; I’m-the-month-before-Christmas-I-will-slap-you. No better month on the calendar then to produce crystalline lists, documenting the various life experiences that boil my blood, make my right ear overly hot, dilate my pupils, flare my nostrils and lock my jaw in a drastic attempt to prevent verbal Armageddon. Please add to this list, it makes me feel less alone.
The List:
1. Being CC’d – I do not give a shit. I don’t do it, so why do 99% of my human counterparts think that CCing is as necessary as breathing. New rule; if I don’t have to act, I don’t want to know.
2. Caring – not caring would be transformational as it would remove perfectionism and guilt from my life. I care about orders not shipping, I care about targets being missed, I care about emails being unanswered, I care about the hidden decent of many western governments into fascist regimes. Caring is a cloud that positions itself a foot above me, precipitates stress-rain and strikes my frontal lobe with worry-rods.
3. Alt Tabbing – I have a data processing claw for a left hand now. It looks like Jim Carrey’s “The Claw” in Liar Liar but isn’t funny.
4. Pre-Exit Enterers – this is a class of sub-humans characterized by their entry onto public transport before allowing the exit of those already onboard. They only answer to the sweet justice of raised elbows, or “entry deniers” as they’re known in my head.
5. Loud Point Makers – I am speaking. Just because the volume of your voice is 3 to 7 decibels above mine, does not mean your point overrules mine, fuckface. If that were the case then I’d just shout every time I spoke, so overruling everything instantly.
6. Groiners – a class of skim boarding injury where one foot makes it onto the board, the other decides that the board isn’t good enough and contacts the earth instead. The resulting injury targets the groin with its fury, disabling the victim for days.
I am cultivating follicle growth between my nose and my lips. It’s a growth that should stand proud and give the owner a true sense of being all things ‘man’. It should allow me to wear a wax jacket, smoke the finest Briar pipe, consume Highland Park single malt like it were water, and grant me the ability to captivate all humans with tales of man. Alas, my lip garden does none of this, instead it instills a complex of inferiority. The nature of its sparse cover and undecided colour way explains these feelings. Upper lip can still be viewed through the growth, mocking its attempt at full coverage. The distinctly soft foliage is both black and blonde and the more it grows, the more orange takes hold. I yearn for the power of full cover, of uniform colour, of eye watering coarseness. For the remainder of the month, nurturing the garden is key. At night Gustav Holst – The Planets – Mars: Bringer Of Warwill play on repeat whilst daytime will be filled with reading Hemingway’s For Whom The Bell Tolls. Man level growth will be achieved, mark my man words.
Donations of cash will also help me and help the true cause; Man Health. Donate here:
Posted in Daily Froth on November 12, 2009 by bullee
I have a sordid addiction to the surf movie genre. I find out about future releases way too early, sign up to the overhype newsletter, spend months turbo frothing over the early snippets I view, then perma-soil my pants waiting for the movie’s true release. I want you to join me in this weird rigmarole, so here are snippets to instigate turbo froth, just be wary of the next phase, “perma-soil”, it’s the least comfortable.
Posted in Daily Froth on November 10, 2009 by bullee
Buzzing, a drone, lift arm to give coffee to lips, move other arm to open spreadsheet, use brain to block out micro-manager. Repeat. Raise body from upright coffin, pretend busy walk to avoid in hall inter-employee contact. Locate snacks, return to coffin. Buzzing, drone, tired. Heal me with fin free wafts. Use ramps, destroy lips, type rubbish, dream.
The coldest surf competition on Earth is happening as we speak on the western shores of Van Island. Tofino is the hostess with voluptuous shores where waves break and scores are given, dreams are made and brains are frozen. I watched the first day of the comp and shit the devan was it sick. Pete Devries, the Great White North’s hope, destroyed all oncoming sections and made me proud even though I am from somewhere else. Cox Bay was cranking, closeouts a plenty, but if you picked the right one froth was guaranteed.
The WQS is a slog, the comps are boring, the waves are shat, the constant travel is brutal, being a pro surfer is tough, democracy is real, the financial meltdown was not engineered, you should drink formaldehyde.
I do not agree with the above statements with commas, in fact I scoff at them. I would give one nad and a kidney to be a pro and yes, the grass is always greener, but surely with the right attitude fun will find you on the QS.
Check these cold clips to see if you agree, or scoff at me:
