Norwegian beach handball team defeats “antiquated Mad Man-esque chauvinism,” will no longer be forced to compete in revealing bikinis!

Times are a'changin.

We surfers, we lovers of the ocean and her waves, are an open-minded bunch when it comes to dress in the lineup. A man, or woman, is allowed to wear a wetsuit, a wetsuit top, a short-sleeved wetsuit, a long-sleeved short-legged wetsuit, a full swimsuit, a bikini, trunks or a tankini. The only item of clothing expressly forbidden is the baggy short sleeved turtle necked rash guard but, otherwise, a cornucopia of options.

Our beach brothers and sisters have not had it quite so well with beach handball players, for instance, forced to toil under the sun in bikinis.

Well, no longer. The sport’s governing body just ruled in favor of allowing women to now wear “short tight pants with a close fit” and a “body fit tank top” in lieu of bikinis when competing after the Norwegian team complained that it was sexist and was duly fined.

Norwegian Handball Federation (NHF) President Kare Geir Lio told NBC News that the new change is a “real and symbolic step” toward fighting gender inequality in the sport and also that “it’s good for the game, but first of all, it’s good for the women, and it’s good for how we treat each other in sports.”

Bravo.

Baggy short sleeved turtle necked rash guards are really the worst, though.

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The pair unlock the floodgates of memory with a touching pas de deux.

World surfing champion Gabriel Medina makes estranged father Instagram official in wake of “nuclear” family feud with mom and step-dad, “Happy birthday dad! I love you!”

The step-daddy, Charlie Serrano, the ubiquitous, unsmiling, ever-supportive pillar behind his equally taciturn looking son for two of his world titles, must be feeling badly shortchanged…

The three-time world surfing champion, Brazil’s Gabriel Medina, has made his estranged father Claudinho Instagram official with an emotional post to his almost ten-million followers. 

Medina, who is twenty-seven, posted two photos of the pair embracing and with both holding three fingers aloft to indicate his three world titles and a short video where father and son dance a touching pas de deux. 

 

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A post shared by G. Medina (@gabrielmedina)

The step-daddy, Charlie Serrano, the ubiquitous, unsmiling, ever-supportive pillar behind his equally taciturn looking son for two of his world titles, must be feeling badly shortchanged by the post. 

Earlier this year, of course, Brazil media reported that Medina had split, in a professional as well as a private sense, from his mammy Simone and Charlie. 

The split was driven, it was said, by Medina’s surprise marriage to thirty-three-year-old actress and Swimsuit Illustrated model Yasmin Brunet, parental sadness over losing their lil man, the ol’ empty nest syndrome.

A month-ish ago, mammy and Charlie put the Gabriel Medina Institute which they got in the breakup deal onto the market, seeking two mill or so. As well, Gabriel slashed mammy’s allowance from five to three-and-a-half gees a month.

New allegations surfaced a few weeks ago when journalist Leo Dias from Metropóles reported that that Gabriel has blocked Simone on social media after she allegedly claimed to have a sex tape of a real young Yasmin.

Wasn’t real kind about Yasmin’s mum, either. 

“She was really crazy at a party at her condo in Rio. Drunk, in the parking lot, doing this to a guy and then throwing up,” Simone allegedly wrote to her son.

Dias reports Yasmin and Luiza are suing Simone for defamation.

According to our sources, as well as the Medina Institute, Charlie and Simone got a luxury condo and a small house they all lived in before Medina got his first title. Simone also got a little under a million US in cash as part of the deal.

Medina got to keep the six-unit luxury condo he developed with Charlie and a house in the middle of a forest where he lives with Yasmin and a dozen adopted dogs.

His real daddy, Claudinho, lives in one of Medina’s houses.

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Surfline Man stuffs a wetsuit, towel, fresh changing poncho, and his lucky bar of surf wax, into his rad new Da Kine dry bag. With a carabiner, he clips his favorite marine blue Hydroflask to a handy external strap. He slides a Clif Bar in the pocket. It’s so good to be prepared.

Surfline Man goes to Hollister Ranch, “So many times he has dreamed of it. All those miles of empty coastline. All of it, forbidden fruit, hanging just out of reach!”

The Ranch. That magical surfing Shangri-La. Surfline Man has never been to the Ranch!

Surfline Man is feeling so bored.

It’s October already and so far, the winter swells just aren’t even happening. Every morning he opens his laptop and scans the forecasts. Maybe this time there will be a new swell. But no, not yet. And every evening he repeats the same ritual once again.

Still, no waves.

That big winter swell that got Surfline Man all flustered, like he had to get fit and he needed a new board, that thing disappeared on the very next model run. Here today, gone tomorrow. The surf forecasts, like life and the cute girl in the Swamis parking lot are so cruel.

On the bright side, Surfline Man now has way more time to get fit and figure out the whole step-up equation. More rocker, less rocker, Surfline Man is totally not sure what to do. Surfboards can be so confusing.

In the meantime, Surfline Man has been riding his red fish every day. But he feels like he needs better waves for his new board to shine. And he does want it to shine.

For one thing, he waited months and months for Mike the Shaper to make his new red fish for him. But also, why surf, if he’s not going to blow everyone’s minds?

If he’s honest, he knows he has a ways to go before he can hope to achieve this level of surfing excellence.

But Surfline Man is determined. He’s willing to do the work.

Surfline Man even went running in his old Vans and nearly passed out right there on the sidewalk in Cardiff. A rough moment, for sure, but he is way more fit now. Yesterday he made it a whole five blocks before almost passing out. Real fitness is so close now.

If only the waves would finally show up. Where are they hiding? Please come soon, waves!

Sitting outside the Pannikin, Surfline Man flips through the forecasts in a desultory kind of way. He is supposed to be building a website for a friend, but he’s just not feeling it. Even the coffee just isn’t doing it for him today. Life is just so boring.

Then his phone buzzes.

hey bro what up
just got a new zodiac
gona take it to the ranch this weekend
wanna join?

The Ranch. That magical surfing Shangri-La. Surfline Man has never been to the Ranch, but so many times he has dreamed of it. All those miles of empty coastline. So many set-ups, so many waves. All of it, forbidden fruit, hanging just out of reach.

But now, Surfline Man has a chance to go to the Ranch. Surfline Man sits up straighter in his chair. Suddenly, the coffee tastes so much better. Finally, he can find some waves worthy of his new fish. The whole world looks brighter. Day, made.

He picks up his phone and taps out a reply.

yah i’d be so stoked
what’s the plan

Coffee finished and texts exchanged, Surfline Man bounds to his Sprinter and heads home. That website he was maybe building? It can totally wait. Surfline Man has way more important things to do.

Surfline Man is going to the Ranch! It’s going to be such an adventure. First, he’s going to spend the night in his van in Ventura. Then he’s going to ride with his friends in the new Zodiac all the way to the Ranch. They’re going to score such good waves. It’s going to be the best trip ever!

Returning home, Surfline Man heads to the kitchen to check on his stock of avocados. He needs to make a Whole Foods run. More mac n cheese, defnitely.

Also, surf wax. Surfline Man is pretty sure he’s running short. He’s been meaning to change the fins on his fish, too. But there’s only so many hours in the day, you know? A man can only do so much.

Supplies assembled, Surfline Man meticulously packs the Sprinter for his big adventure. He stuffs a wetsuit, towel, fresh changing poncho, and his lucky bar of surf wax, into his rad new Da Kine dry bag. With a carabiner, he clips his favorite marine blue Hydroflask to a handy external strap. He slides a Clif Bar in the pocket. It’s so good to be prepared.

Surfline Man likes his comforts, and he lovingly spreads his Big Agnes 20-degree down sleeping bag in the back of the van. He grabbed some fresh expedition-weight long johns from Patagonia, and he’s going to be so cozy in his van. He can’t even wait.

Surfboards!

Surfline Man almost forgot the most important part. He’s not sure how many boards he can really fit in the Zodiac, but he figures it’s good to be prepared. He slides his new fish and his precious turquoise midlength in the van. Just Surfline Man and his surfboards, spending the night together.

Spending the night turns out to be more complicated than Surfline Man expected. For one thing, he left town late. He kept forgetting things, important things like his new wax comb that he bought at the surf shop just yesterday.

Then there was some kind of situation on the 405. Surfline Man doesn’t even know what it was. Freeways, they make the surf forecasts look reliable.

When he made it to Ventura, there wasn’t any parking left. Surfline Man couldn’t even believe it. What in the world was he going to do now? He decided to keep driving.

Somewhere north of Santa Barbara, Surfline Man finds a dirt turn-out. It’s actually west of Santa Barbara, but really, Surfline Man can’t be bothered with directions at that point. He isn’t even sure it’s a legal place to camp, but he’s not about to be picky.

Surfline Man slurps down his mac n cheese, puts on his fresh long johns, and settles into his comfy down bag. The van sways when the big rigs swoosh by. Surfline Man convinces himself the whole situation is relaxing. It almost works.

Around two am, a freight train lumbers down the nearby tracks. Surfline Man sits bolt upright in his comfy down bed. He can’t even imagine what monster could be bearing down on him! He peaks cautiously out the window. A line of boxcars runs as far as he can see. There’s no sleeping now.

After dozing off, Surfline Man wakes up late. Shit! He’s going to be so late to meet his friends and the Zodiac at the Gaviota pier. He’s never going to make it to the Ranch now!

Hurriedly, Surfline Man makes coffee and heats a breakfast burrito. He pours the coffee into his favorite Yeti mug and inhales the burrito. The sun is already rising! Surfline Man has got to get on the road.

Somehow, he is parked on the south-bound side of the 101, and Surfline Man doesn’t even remember how this happened. Surfline Man has no choice but to drive south. His panic grows. He is driving so far! And there’s nowhere to turn around!

Finally, Surfline Man sees an offramp. Goleta! He is all the way back in Goleta. This is not the Gaviota pier where the Zodiac is waiting. Surfline Man knows he is not the smartest ever, but even he knows the difference between Goleta and Gaviota.

Resolutely, Surfline Man turns north or west or whatever direction it is, and gets back on the 101. He’s going to make it to Gaviota, and he’s going to surf the Ranch! Nothing more can go wrong with this, Surfline Man feels certain.

Singing along to the Beach Boys, Surfline Man pilots the Sprinter along the 101. Surfline Man has been in a total retro mood lately. Maybe he should learn to longboard. Cross-stepping. Toes on the nose. Yah, that might be cool.

Lost in his thoughts, Surfline Man completely misses the left turn to Gaviota State Beach. It’s not entirely his fault. No one expects to turn left on the freeway, after all.

The 101 serpentines through the Gaviota Pass, and Surfline Man follows it. So confident in his navigation abilities, Surfline Man turned off his Garmin back in Goleta. The road starts to climb, and blissful in his Beach Boys-induced haze, Surfline Man continues to drive.

Exit Highway 1. Sounds good. Surfline Man turns west. Everyone knows the ocean lies to the west. Surfline Man is totally on the right track now.

Singing happily along to Good Vibrations, Surfline Man cruises the winding road toward the coast. He’s so going to make it now! He is going to surf the Ranch on his new red fish that Mike the Shaper made just for him. It’s going to be the best day ever!

His phone buzzes.

dude where are you
we’re all here
ready to launch
you shoulda been here hours ago

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Facebook whistleblower made furious by company’s surf-infused pivot to “metaverse” calls for Kauai local Mark Zuckerberg’s ouster: “Over and over Facebook chooses expansion and new areas instead of sticking the landing on what they’ve already done!”

Gotta pump it to jump it.

And the heat has risen, yet again, under the already hot seat occupied by the world’s 5th richest man, Kauai local, Mark Zuckerberg with much-loved Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen declaring that her former leader should step down instead of “devoting resources” to a surf-infused rebrand.

Speaking publicly for the first time at a tech gathering in Lisbon, Portugal (very near famous big wave Nazare and the name of Facebook’s new Google Glass), Haugen told the wall-to-wall crowd, “I think it is unlikely the company will change if [Mark Zuckerberg] remains the CEO. Maybe it’s a chance for someone else to take the reins… Facebook would be stronger with someone who was willing to focus on safety. Over and over Facebook chooses expansion and new areas instead of sticking the landing on what they’ve already done.”

The adoring audience burst into roaring applause numerous times, especially at the very pointed “extreme foil” reference to “sticking the landing.”

It will certainly sting Zuckerberg to hear that he has not “stuck the landing” but also he may find some small comfort in knowing that he is working on it every day with good friend Kai Lenny. Knowing that “You’ve gotta pump it to jump it.”

Back to Haugen, though, and there she sat on stage positively beaming, a modern tech angel.

Saint Frances of Menlo Park.

Do you think all the beatification deserved?

Do you think that Zuckerberg is a real boy?

More questions than answers.

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Officials beg public to steer clear of ultra-exclusive surf spot Little Dume after landslide threatens to plunge cliffside mansions into the ocean!

But potential for lemonade out of lemons?

Oh but to have a key to the gate leading to Little Dume, just north of Malibu, is to have a bit of heaven jingle-jangling in your pocket. The ultra-exclusive beach, break, just north of Malibu has long been home to a very lucky few who live in somnolent green folds, wander down a well-kept path whilst sipping coffee infused with MCT oil, use their key to open the gate to check the waves to maybe surf with ultra-exclusive friends or loved ones.

A wondrous place but, currently, under much threat as a landslide, yesterday, has threatened to cast cliffside multi–million dollar mansions into the Pacific.

Per news reports, the slide happened sometime around noon near Cliffside Drive. Causation was unclear but officials urged the public to avoid the area as they seek to figure out what to do next and if more slides are imminent.

Might it be an option to let at least one of the multi-million dollar mansions slide and see if it creates an ultra-ultra-exclusive new reef?

A key within a key?

Like Inception for rich people.

Very cool.

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