Azealia Banks (insert) hating Australian surfers. Photo: Doped Youth
Azealia Banks (insert) hating Australian surfers. Photo: Doped Youth

Acclaimed rapper Azealia Banks utterly ravages surf mad Australia, refuses to ever perform in Lucky Country again: “Y’all got a whole different culture around here… this place makes me utterly miserable!”


Any surf fan worth her salt is well aware of Australia’s importance to our space. Not only is surfing the Lucky Country’s national sport, not only would the World Surf League host 11 Championship Tour events a year there, if it could, not only is Mick Fanning a national hero, Joel Parkinson a well-respected park ranger but… well, I guess that’s enough.

Now, the most surf mad region of the surf mad nation is the state of Queensland, which boasts the Gold Coast and Surfers Paradise. Its turquoise water producing many iconic waves. Its capital Brisbane set to host the 2032 Olympics which will heavily feature surfing.

Except not everyone, apparently, is a fan. Acclaimed rapper, 31, Azealia Banks recently vowed to never perform in Australia again because she finds Brisbane abominable. After cancelling a show she declared in a to-video piece:

I’m so sorry you guys – actually I’m not sorry – but listen: last time I was in Brisbane and y’all threw shit on the stage and damn near almost fucking hit me in the face with a fucking bottle of soda or whatever that shit was. That was the most racist, most demoralising experience of my fucking life and right now I’m on a really good track.

Sydney and Melbourne are the only cities I really want to play. Y’all got a whole different culture around here. I am too far away from home … I am a beautiful black woman and I am not going to get in front of some audience of white people for them to be throwing shit at me. I am so not sorry. I am not sorry at all. Brisbane, y’all are just going to have to take the L and smoke it.

After this run this will be my very last time touring Australia. This place makes me utterly miserable and I’m too black and beautiful to have a bunch of white people in my face playing with me over their WEAK ASS CURRENCY!


In the award-nominated Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell, I described Queensland’s Gold’s Coast as “humid and cancerous” because the “ozone is rotted above Australia because Australian girls love hairspray.”

Pretty rude but no “WEAK ASS CURRENCY” rude.


Too sexy. Photo: Fox News.
Too sexy. Photo: Fox News.

Conservative firebrand Fox and Friends hosts learn how to surf in New York during segment that devolves into wildly lewd orgy of lust!

Naughty talk.

The ubiquitous “learning how to surf” whilst nowhere near the ocean has been a staple of local television newscasts since broadcasting became a thing. Hosts standing awkwardly, making awkward talk and awkward eyes about “hanging ten” etc. The entire business is usually wholesome, family friendly, but, days ago, the conservative hosts of firebrand Fox and Friends pushed the envelope into the lewd and rude.

The bit begins with three hosts, two handsome males with conservative hair and one female wearing a long coat with feathered blonde hair. They are standing outside in New York City and one of the men declares, “Got the note to wear sweatpants today, sweatpants, because we’re going surfing.” Behind them all is a large blow-up wave, the sort Hurley sells, and on the ground are three soft tops.

The Locals’ Surf School co-owner is then introduced, informing the three that they should be in wetsuits, not their business suits, but they’re all going to give it a try. He then walks through the three basic skills. Paddle, pop up and wipeout, declaring, “Yes, you will be wiping out, I’m sure of it, but it can be fun and safe if we do it.”

He next lays on one of the soft tops and demonstrates proper paddling form while the hosts look on, popping to feet while one says “It looks like a burpee, it looks like you’re doing a burpee.”

Now this is where things turned bawdy. One of the male hosts got down to “paddle” and “pop up” himself, while the other two wonder if he is going to rip his pants. The female host refuses to get down on the board, worried that she might rip her jumpsuit with all declaring “that would be even better.”


So much pant/jumpsuit ripping. So much hope for it to all hang right out.

Pure lust.

More innuendo and tension, naughty talk, seen since Ron Burgundy went off the air.

The female host then jumps onto the inflatable Hurley toy and the piece devolves from there into an orgy of odd, shocking viewers at home.

If you have the stomach, you can watch here.

More importantly, though, have your pants ever split in public?

Describe, please.

Florence, seated, looking away, pensive, and the transcendentally sexy master shaper Jon Pyzel, inset.

World’s best surfer John John Florence and “diabolically sexy master shaper” Jon Pyzel launch luxury accessories brand and its name has explosive links to Proto-Polynesian!

For Florence it’s a further pivot away from the wreckage of heritage surf brands, now bundled together like junk bonds and sold to whatever vulture capitalist has a kink for surf.

The two-time world champion surfer and trans (Pacific) sailor man, John John Florence, has partnered with master shaper Jon Pyzel and the CEO of Pyzel Surfboards Dan McNamara to create a high-end luxury surf accessories brand called Veia Supplies.

Some of Jon Pyzel’s story you might already know: how this diabolically sexy shredder (sponsored by Rip Curl and Hamish Graham surfboards) fled Santa Babs for the North Shore in 1992 and was taken under the wing of master shaper Jeff Bushman before, in 1998, shaping a little blond boy’s first ever custom.

The boy, of course, was John John Florence.

For the thirty-year-old Florence it’s a further pivot away from the wreckage of heritage surf brands, now bundled together like junk bonds and sold to whatever vulture capitalist has a kink for surf. Last year, Florence, along with Bob Hurley and big-bag swinging Patty O’Connell, launched the twelve-million dollar start-up Florence Marine X.

The name of the latest venture, Veia, either comes from Proto-Polynesian and means “to dislike” or it’s Spanish for creek, or maybe neither. 

The first range of John John gear features a seven-foot board bag that retails for $US350, a couple of tail pads for fifty dollars and leashes ranging from forty-three to forty-seven dollars. 

“Multi-board bags are rockered so boards properly fit, and some of our larger bags also include purpose-built places for tie downs, extra padding, and carabiners,” CEO Dan McNamara told Shop-Eat-Surf. “No one travels with boards more often than John John and since we at Pyzel have supplied his boards for the past 25 years, we are in a unique position to build to that need. Another key difference is that we are infusing more color into the board bag category. We all love black bags, but we want to offer a little more design and differentiation both on the wall and at the baggage claim.” 

Liberation returns!

In stunning switcharoo, randy surfers exempted from Bali’s sex ban as backlash threatens future of holiday paradise, “I want to emphasise… please come… you will not be charged!”

Full sexual freedom returns to Bali!

In a wild ol switcharoo, the governor of Bali, has exempted tourists from Indonesia’s puritanical new sex laws. 

Last week, you’ll remember, Indonesia passed sweeping legislation that approved jail terms for up to one year if an unmarried person’s sexual energy became such you had no choice but to come, full blast, into a woman, man or beast.

Live together, unwed, and you’re behind bars for six months. 

Adultery has long been illegal, of course, in sunni Muslim Indonesia. In the more progressive provinces of northern Sumatra, lashings are common for adulterers and homosexuals.

Pointedly, no exemptions. 

“The new code, which also applies to foreign residents and tourists, bans cohabitation before marriage, apostasy, and provides punishments for insulting the president or expressing views counter to the national ideology.”

Now, following fears a significant percentage of the sixteen million tourists that visit Bali each year would go elsewhere, the island’s Governor  Wayan Koster has taken the extraordinary step of announcing local authorities would not be breaking down the doors of hotel rooms, demanding wedding certificates and so forth. 

“Bali is Bali as usual, which is comfortable and safe to be visited,” Koster said. “There will be no checks on marital status upon check-in at any tourism accommodation … nor inspections by public officials or community groups.”

Koster, aware or not of the glorious double entendre, added, ““I want to emphasise… please come… you will not be charged!”

Seth Moniz comforts Kelly Slater (main photo: Brent Bielmann) while Jessi Miley-Dyer (insert) mocks.

World Surf League runs blade directly through Kelly Slater’s heart, sanctions and heaps praise upon event at Surf Ranch’s most bitter rival!

Bad bride.

Do you recall when Kelly Slater unveiled his wave pool, there in the tule fog of Lemoore, and, at the same time, blew away the globe and squished Adriano de Souza’s pinnacle moment like a bug? How could you forget? That wave, all tubing and endless, was a replica, a manmade bit of woven dreams, but there it reeled in real life before our very eyes, de Souza’s tear-soaked.

Everyone wanted to surf it and the World Surf League wanted to buy it.

Being owned by a billionaire, the second business was quickly done and there Ziff, and a rotating door of merry CEOs, had the future in soft palm of hand.


Things have not quite gone to plan.

While Surf Ranch, as it came to be called, is ridiculously fun to surf, it has presented a number of challenges. Namely, not very many people can surf it on one day and it is hideously boring to watch competed upon. There has been no luck, yet, in securing a second Surf Ranch, as new, more sensible options have sprung up, and various iterations of the Surf Ranch Pro will forever remain the dumbest dumb in surfing history.

Instead of being a true bride to Slater, though, through sickness and health etc., the World Surf League has decided to stab the world’s greatest surfer directly in the back by, essentially, giving up and hosting events at his most bitter rival, a Wavegarden near glorious Melbourne, Australia.

A 1000 level regional QS or some such but still sanctioned with praise heaped.

Per The Guardian:

“This is really cool,” says Jessi Miley-Dyer, an ex-pro surfer and head of competitions at WSL, as she surveys the scene. The sun is shining, the smell of sunscreen lingers in the air and spectators have packed into a cafe overlooking the wave. It’s not Teahupo’o, Tahiti’s wave of consequence, or even Bells Beach, home to one of the iconic events on the WSL’s elite tour and barely an hour away on the Victorian coast. But it might be the future of surfing.

“The idea that someone can be here in Melbourne, surfing so close to the city, having the chance to learn,” Miley-Dyer says. “Wave technology has a place and will be a big part of developing our next generation of stars.”

Wave technology.

Not Slater’s plow.

Not the cow stink.

Just wave technology.

Shame on the WSL.

Deep shame.