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Baby, shoot for the stars!

Chas Smith

by Chas Smith

Is there anything wrong with beauty? With gorgeousness? I say, "No!" And, "Hell no!"

Have you been watching the Olympics? In Rio de Janeiro? Such charm! Such fun! Such inspiration! There is a story every single event, it seems, that reaches right down the throat, over to the heart and starts plucking those strings.

The magnificent Simone Manuel, for example, became the first black woman to ever win a swimming gold when she shocked the world in the 100 free. Kayla Harrison made history by winning her second judo gold in as many Olympics before shit talking UFC.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for a world where you get fights based on how pretty you are and how much you talk, not necessarily what you’ve done in the ring.”

So powerful! Such emotion!

But, if I’m going to be honest, as the father of a very pretty daughter I get ruffled when people denigrate “pretty.”

“What is wrong with gorgeousness?” I ask myself. “What’s so bad about perfect facial symmetry and a caramely tan?”

And I look to men like Tony Ray for my own inspiration. Fathers of daughters with perfect facial symmetry and carmely tans.

Do you remember Tony Ray? The wonderful big wave surfer? Let’s refresh with Matt Warshaw’s Encyclopedia of Surfing!

Unassuming big-wave rider from Torquay, Victoria, Australia, described by surf journalist Steve Hawk as the “Forrest Gump of giant waves”; world-ranked #11 in 1992, and runner-up in the 1999 and 2002 editions of the Quiksilver in Memory of Eddie Aikau contest at Waimea Bay.

Ray was born (1965) in Torquay, moved with his family to Coolangatta, Queensland, in 1970, and began surfing at age seven. In 1983—five years after moving back to Torquay—Ray placed third in the juniors division of the Australian National Titles; the following year he was runner-up in the men’s division to future world tour powerhouse Gary Elkerton.

The slender-framed Ray was a function-first surfer, with little concern for the nicities of style, and a great natural instinct for the tube. He won his only world tour event in 1992, beating future world champion Kelly Slater at the Lacanau Pro in France. After retiring from the tour after the 1995 season, Ray began to concentrate on big-waves, and quickly developed a fearless, almost laconic approach to both paddle-in and tow-in riding.

A slender frame is a wonderful thing to pass to a daughter. And let’s look at Tony’s famous one, Sahara Ray! She has been in the news lately because she is maybe Justin Bieber new girlfriend.

The Daily Mail says:

She’s the Australian bikini model romantically linked to Justin Bieber. And Sahara Ray fuelled rumours she’s more than just friends with the pop star after going TOPLESS during their holiday in Hawaii.

She displayed plenty of sideboob in a racy Instagram snap posted shortly after being spotted with Justin and a group of friends. In the photo shared on Wednesday, Sahara partially exposed her breasts while posing outdoors by a idyllic waterfall scene.The swimwear designer flaunted her busty assets and shapely derrière after stripping down to a pair of skimpy white bottoms

She also appeared to embrace the local culture by wearing a colourful floral wreath around her head while crouched on a rock. Meanwhile, Sahara’s platinum blonde hair fell loosely over her back as she cast a provocative gaze at the camera.

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As good as gold in my book. Maybe even better. I am thinking about starting an exclusive club for fathers of beautiful daughters/fathers who hope their daughters have the chops to become models/socialites.

It will probably be called The Superlative Genetics Club feat. Fathers and their Unashamedly Beautiful Daughters (by invite only)™

GQ Skewers Laird Hamilton!

Derek Rielly

by Derek Rielly

"Don't make this ultimate summer airport style mistake!" warns magazine.

In a worldwide email blast several minutes ago, the arbiter of American style, GQ magazine, headlined Laird Hamilton thus: Don’t Make This Ultimate Airport Style Mistake. 

Do you find this particularly cruel, given Mr Hamilton has never claimed to be anything but a robust big-wave stud whose body is best viewed naked? 

The story begins…

Summer’s most beguiling fantasy is that when it’s this hot out, the sartorial rules we follow in cooler climes can go right out the window. In particularly oppressive heat, even the most stylish men can be tempted to throw caution to the wind (if they can find any wind, that is) and break every regulation that keeps guys looking reasonably good during the rest of the year.

This is the fate that has befallen iconic surfer Laird Hamilton.

The wave-chasing fashion designer was spotted at Los Angeles International Airport on Friday wearing a black shirt and dark jeans, items that would suggest he couldn’t have been feeling that warm. But his footwear, a pair of brown leather flip-flops, told a different story: that the man literally needed to cool his heels.

Never mind that he’s sending the fashion equivalent of a mixed metaphor; no matter what time of year it is, flip-flops are best used sparingly, like paprika. There’s even a handy list of places on GQ.com where you can wear them (you’re welcome), and spoiler alert: Airports aren’t on it.

Want to read the rest and afterward click to a link to the “sexiest secret beach in Jamaica?” Hit this button!

Parker: “I’m looking for a hot three-way!

Rory Parker

by Rory Parker

Boy, girl. It don't matter! It's 2016, anything goes!

Packed and ready to go. Back in three weeks. Nicaragua for fun, then to BI for a freedive comp. Will be sending in dispatches from the road. Frequency yet to be determined. Maybe I’ll find inspirado. Maybe I’ll spend the entire time out of my mind. Keeping my options open.

Got a goal this trip.

Gonna find a girl to go on a date with the wife and me. Like, court her as a team.  Probably a her. But who can say? It’s 2016, anything goes. I’m an open-minded man.

It’ll be weird. Super awkward. The wife isn’t really into it. Still game nonetheless.

It’s not a sexual thing.  Not totally. Won’t turn it down should circumstances sway that way. But that ain’t the goal.

Looking to rekindle that sickly nervousness I haven’t felt in forever. Does she like me? Am I making a good impression? Should I hold her hand?

Dragging the ball and chain along helps. Could feel her anxiety when I pitched the idea. It bleeds over. I feel it too. That’s what I’m looking for. This might be a fetish.

Maybe I’ll strike it rich. Find myself a sexy young thing. Ship her to Kauai. Install her in the guest room. Teach her learn about bad decisions. Wait for the inevitable disaster. A very bad idea I want to pursue.

More likely I’ll come off like some old drunken chicken hawk. I’m okay with that.

Win: Two days at Kelly Slater’s Pool!

Derek Rielly

by Derek Rielly

Two days, two nights (and bonfires) at Slater's Lemoore Surf Ranch!

Don’t this just get more and more Willy Wonka-ish every day. As announced by the WSL half-an-hour or so ago, Kelly Slater is going to throw open the door, for two surf fans, to ride his pool.

“One winner and their guest will experience two days and two nights of perfect waves, BBQ’s and bonfires with Kelly and his closest friends at Kelly Slater Wave Company’s Surf Ranch in Lemoore, California.”

How do you get a piece?

“Fans can enter for the chance to win their golden ticket to surf Kelly’s exclusive wave for as little as $10 through Omaze. Funds raised benefit WSL PURE, the philanthropic initiative of the World Surf League, dedicated to supporting ocean health through the key areas of research, education and advocacy. Every donation gives you a chance to hang with the greatest surfer of all time, while supporting critical efforts to help heal the world’s oceans.”

“‘I’ve had more requests than any one person can field or imagine about the Surf Ranch,” said 11-time World Champion Kelly Slater. ‘I am excited to be giving away the chance of a lifetime to whoever wins these tickets. I’m inviting a few pros to join us.  So the winner will get to come hang at Surf Ranch for a few days and share waves and get tips from some of the best surfers in the world.'”

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WSL Pure, meanwhile, is the “the philanthropic arm of the World Surf League, WSL PURE is a nonprofit that’s dedicated to improving the health of the planet’s oceans — a cause relevant to all of us.”

Still not convinced?

And when the sun goes down, the party keeps going with bonfires, jam sessions and more with Kelly and his friends. Flights and lodging included.”

Swoon!

Enter the game here.  No super hurry, either. Entries close September 12.

Just in: Paul Speaker throws a shaka!

Chas Smith

by Chas Smith

WSL CEO Paul Speaker hangs loose!

The shaka is, certainly, our gang sign. Our identifying hand jive, and as a surfer you toss them whether ironically or seriously more often than is maybe advisable. But do you know its origin story? Let’s read from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin!

We discovered different and fascinating accounts of how the “shaka” sign — denoting everything from “right on” and “thank you” to “howzit” and “hang loose” — originated, mainly variations of someone losing the three fingers of one hand in an accident, including trying to catch fish by throwing a stick of dynamite into the ocean. A few also swear it originated with California surfers.

What’s not in dispute is that former used car pitchman and TV personality David “Lippy” Espinda popularized the words and gesture, signing off his commercials with “shaka, brah!” Espinda, who died in 1975, reportedly once explained that his signature sign-off dated back to his marble-playing boyhood.

Meanwhile, Frank Fasi further ingrained the gesture into local culture, using it to symbolize his political campaigns beginning in 1976.

But as to its origins, the prevailing local lore is that it originated with Hamana Kalili of Laie, who lost the middle three fingers on his right hand during an accident at the old Kahuku Sugar Mill.

Kalili’s grandnephew Vonn Logan, who works for Brigham Young University-Hawaii’s Department of Continuing Education, explained that Kalili’s job was to feed sugar cane into the rollers, which would squeeze out the juice. He lost his fingers when his hand got caught in the rollers, Logan said. Because he could no longer work in the mill, he became a security guard on the sugar train that used to travel between Sunset Beach and Kaaawa.

“One of his jobs was to keep all the kids off the train,” Logan said. “All the kids would try to jump the train to ride from town to town. So they started signaling each other. Since (Kalili) lost his fingers, the perfect signal was what we have now as the ‘shaka sign.’ That’s how you signaled the way was clear.”

So much wonderful conjecture shrouded in vog. The shaka’s truth will never be certain but all is well. We know what it means and how to throw different ones.

But guess who just threw the world’s most awkward one?

That’s right! You got it! WSL CEO Paul Speaker!

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What is happening? Why is his wrist bent at that angle? A football injury maybe? Why is his pinkie pointing toward Gab Medina’s shaka? Why is it tucked so tightly to his stomach when there is plenty of room for him to stretch out? Do you think this is the first shaka he has ever thrown? It has to be right?

Is he maybe pioneering a new, shriveled shaka style?

A visionary!