Endorsement: Smoke cigarettes and jam!

Freedom has a new name and it's Donovan Frankenreiter!

Big Tobacco is still such a frowned upon industry. Maybe because smoking has been scientifically proven to cause lung cancer? Maybe because the cigarette companies sat on research for many many years that pointed to this conclusion? Maybe because the cigarette companies actively targeted children, trying to squeeze a few extra years of profit out of young lives?

I don’t know but something made the government very mad. In the United States cigarette companies can’t advertise anywhere. Not in magazines, not on TV, not even on race cars. No celebrity ever endorses and only way-past-their-prime celebrities endorse e-cigarettes. Like Stephen Dorff.

Lame.

And how are the children supposed to latch on if they don’t ever see any one cool in a cigarette ad? How are they supposed to give it a try?

Well China doesn’t have our lame hang-ups and presenting……….

Donny Darts!

This is exactly the sort of image that the get the cool kids into the game. A fat, yellow board. A guitar. A soul arch.

China is already whooping our asses with their manufacturing and business shit. Now their next generation is going to be ruling the image game too. A bunch of little, yellow James Deans standing on street corners being way cooler than school.

Fuck!

Thanks a lot Donovan Frankenreiter.


Watch: Fiji Scoffs at Your Off-Season!

You know it's empty when Dingo can't find somebody to burn!

What a wonderful thing, that Southern Ocean.

The seaway’s infinite and volatile nature aids the production of sweet, sweet purply fruit. Not plums or grapes because of course it is freezing, but swells! Purple blobs grow leviathan in the southern sea due to brutal Arctic weather patterns and a relatively unobstructed ocean path.

Moving west to east (as most storms do), the Southern Ocean is uninhibited by any major land masses, making it a bona fide swell highway. Waves originating from the S.O. hit six of seven continents, unless of course you’re counting Europe’s colonial appendages, in which case it’s a perfect sweep. Though it’s most active during the Southern Hemi’s winter, this glacial cauldron pumps out legitimate swells all year-round, which is a treat for the Indos, South Aussies, and even Fijians of the world.

Case in point: four of the Mad Hueys recently escaped the Goldy’s waveless purgatory to revel in some South Pac (by way of Southern Ocean) juice. And what place better than Cloudbreak to dust off those thigh-drag cobwebs?

Can you imagine this type of quality at your local? No, right? Now consider that February is Fiji’s “off-season”.

The video shows not only pristine, six-to-ten foot barreling conditions, but also a very empty lineup. Nobody goes to Fiji this time of year because the waves are “small” and there are “bad winds” but try telling that to Dingo Morrison, one slice of the Half-wit twins, and that devilish Southern Ocean!

Aside from the surf, I also appreciate the clues divulged by the B-roll clips. Based on their boat’s appearance and the docking station used, it’s clear the Hueys aren’t staying on Tavi or Namotu. This means they’re either poor or cheap or both, but probably both. And can’t we all connect with that?


Here, the new version of Wavegarden, a joint where even middle-aged men can swing into a wave every fifty-five seconds

Lawsuit threat for “defective” Wave tank!

Perth residents say they'll take the fight to the Supreme Court!

Have you ever tried to have anything of substance built? Or modified? Maybe a sauna in the garage or a bed that ascends out of a hole in the floor?

The process is a son of a bitch.

Every bored neighbour with a keyboard will try and smash the fucker into the ground, good or bad, and whether it affects ’em or not. I’m loathe to say it’s human nature, because I do believe in the essential goodness of man, but, fuck, only way to get shit through is with a lawyer and an insane amount of time on your hands. One time I tried to build a jerk-off room, an eyrie on the top of my little apartment, dormer windows offering panoramic views of the surf. Ended up in court, thousands down the hole, and a fist fight with another owner.

Therefore, I was hardly surprised when a group of Melville residents petitioned the local council today against approving a “defective” wave tank. If you haven’t been to Melville, and realistically, there isn’t a reason to go ’cause ain’t much there, is a bourgeoise hamlet for retirees. A soft-shoe shuffle down to the local Chinese is as rad as it gets.

You remember the Perth Wavegarden, yeah? If memory fails, read about it here. 

As reported by the West Oz today,

City of Melville residents are threatening to take their fight against a $25 million wave park to the Supreme Court if the council approves the project tomorrow.

A group of ratepayers stepped up their protest against the riverside project proposal last week after seeking advice from law firm Lavan Legal.

In a letter sent to the council, lawyers claim the business plan is “manifestly defective” and approval of the project would be invalid.

City of Melville officers have recommended councillors grant a lease to Wave Park Group for the Alfred Cove site when they meet tomorrow.

Councillors have been told the proposal is unique and transformative and would provide significant financial return. A council spokeswoman said the letter had been carefully considered and there was no valid reason to delay the decision.

Resident David Maynier said the area was inappropriate for an artificial wave park because of environmental risks. 

“If push comes to shove, there is a fairly large number of ratepayers who could be prepared to continue and support action in the Supreme Court,” Mr Maynier said.

The council received 3677 submissions on the project, of which 651 opposed the plan.

 BeachGrit’s position? Have you ever been to Perth? The waves suck and Great Whites treat the beaches as their protected kingdom. Let’s get these things rolling!


"My wife for life!"

Weep: Rosy Hodge Just Got Married!

The post-heat virtuoso slams door shut on single game forever!

This ain’t something you want to read over your morning joe. The post-heat virtuoso Rosy Hodge, whom you allow regular access into your night thoughts, she with the blankest and most tender eyes, yours ablaze with ardor and nostrils alive with the smell of her broth, just got married to the director of Electric’s global marketing, Mr Ian Foulke.

The gazelle-like Rosy, who is thirty years old and who grew up in East London in South Africa, and Ian, a thirty-ish American of jaw-dropping beauty and height, are that rare bird where everything just… fits.

“With wind in her hair and sea glass in her ear, she is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen, and now, my wife for life,” writes Ian.

Rosy did admit to a little-pregame nerves, howevs. But who doesn’t!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BQg52eVFsFO/?taken-by=rosyhodge&hl=en

And they both shred! Watch!


Chas: “Let the bad times roll!”

Hardship hurts in the moment but is a wonderful story afterward…

Sometimes we go on surf trips and our flights are all on time. Our boards arrive un-dinged, the sun shines, the waves barrel just barely overhead and the locals smile at us while we are weaving through their barrels. When we come home we tell our friends and lovers all about it.

We say, “Oh boy did I ever score. And the stewardess on the way home, she was brunette and leggy and wowza honk honk aaaahhhoooogaaahh and she made eyes at me the whole flight long.”

When we say, “I spent seven days in a Balinese hospital because little amoebas decided to eat my intestines” their eyes go wide with fascination. Hardship, you see, is the stuff of legend. Hardship hurts in the moment but is a wonderful story afterward and will be remembered forever.

And they listen, half interested, until the bit about the stewardess and then they roll their own eyes deep inside their skulls. Perfection, you see, is boring. Perfection is fun in the moment but not a good story afterward and not even particularly memorable.

Because sometimes we go on surf trips and our flights catch fire and divert to Panama City. Our boards don’t arrive, the sun either sizzles like the heat of hell or stays completely hidden, the waves tower and eat us alive or don’t show up and the locals pull machetes on us or try to shoot us, as we camp on the beach, because they know that white people turn into devils at night. And the stewardess on the way home is a fat man from Djibouti who insists on wearing shorts well above the knee.

When we come home and tell our friends and lovers about it, when we say, “I spent seven days in a Balinese hospital because little amoebas decided to eat my intestines” their eyes go wide with fascination. Hardship, you see, is the stuff of legend. Hardship hurts in the moment but is a wonderful story afterward and will be remembered forever.

And so, on your next surf trip, don’t always take the easy way. Keep your eyes wide, looking for possible adventure.

Is there a one legged man who tells of a secret wave far in the distance? Go to that secret wave.

Is there a border to sneak across to get into a forbidden zone? Sneak.

But don’t and I mean DO NOT try to create some hideous cliché and pass it off as amazing.

Like, do not stay in a hostel and sit up smoking weed all night with the Danish bar manager.

Do not drink the magic mushroom milkshake and dance under the moonlight.

Do not go to a native village off the beaten path, come home and tell your friends and lovers, “The natives live so much more simply and, by extension, they are so much happier.”

That is the most hideous of clichés. The natives are not happier. They yearn for high definition and paper money pegged to the U.S. dollar with a narrow band.