Mullaghmore

What a week, I could tell you all about my surf induced twitter breakdown or my new mate Paul the plumber from Bundoran who I was harassing the band with as I do, in the chasing bull last friday night or even the fact that I was over it all, packed away my boards and swore blind I’d never return to Ireland let alone live here for months on end but at the last minute just couldn't leave and decided to stay for just 4 more days and see it through. Although all 3 would make far more interesting blogging and reading I’ve opted for the more professional approach and will focus on mully and my first wave I caught on Thursday morning at 10.06am.
Mullaghmore was the first wave I ever surfed in Ireland years ago when Al Mennie invited me over to come paddle with him after he felt he needed to prove a point that Ireland had bigger waves than Madeira. Since then we’ve had our ups and downs, I’ve lost a ski out there, a knee brace and had kicking’s that have left me unable to walk for days but this wave was worth waiting for and I’m stoked I went with my heart and not my brain, thank you Ireland, thank you Mullaghmore and of course thank you Al. I’ll be sure to come back.

Dustbin dicks

Am I being completely out of order when I say that bin men in the UK are generally a little bit annoying and that’s being nice, yes of course I am making a generalisation and of course I’m sure there are exceptions but on the whole my take on the bin men in the UK is they’d do anything or find any reason not to take your rubbish which at the end of the day is what their paid for, and the recycle guys well that’s another story but they usually throw more recycling all over the floor than they do in the actual trucks.
It never used to be like this, I remember when I was a lad many moons ago my folks used to put all sorts of crap out for the bin men in a vast array of different quantities and they’d pretty much always take it therefore my folks always gave them a little tip for Christmas, nothing mental but It only takes a few people on every street to do this and there quids in. That’s how it was and everyone was happy, after all it all ends up in the same place. Not now though, not in the black wheelie bin not a chance seems to be the general situation at home.
However over the past few months I’ve come to realise the bin men in Ireland seem to be cut from a different cloth, it doesn’t matter how much rubbish you put out they’ll always take it which goes for the recycling guys too, it’s so refreshing and very handy as I haven’t put the bins out for 2 weeks now and we’ve got a shit load of rubbish.
Hope there not expecting a tip we’re moving out soon.

Team twat

There we are look, Team twat. I always used to take the piss out of my mates who played Angry Birds on their iphones especially when they used to bang on about what level they were at and how brilliant it was, as they sat there wasting their lives playing on their iphones, well that was until I actually got one then downloaded the thing. Now my obsessive compulsive behaviour has gone off the richter scale and I can’t put the fecking thing down, none of this is helped by Lyndon who is also slightly obsessed by this silly game himself. I am very easily led and influenced and it was sort of his fault I picked up this addiction in the first place.
Surf what surf? I did hear though that it has been pumping and although I have driven down to check it a few times I usually just sit in my van and play angry birds rather than put a stinking cold wetsuit on and waste my time in the sea. Can anyone help me out on world 16 level 8? I’m having a shocker.

Photo:David OlsthoornPhotography

First Wave

I waved to about 50 complete strangers today, they started it as they waved first which meant I sort of had to wave back not that I didn’t want to as everyone seems to wave to everyone in Ireland regardless of whether they actually know you or not. This doesn’t happen in England, I don’t even wave to my mates at home let alone those awkward scenarios when you’re not sure if you actually know someone well enough to wave as you’ve only spoken to them once and that was years ago and now you only see them driving past on occasions and they might not recognise or remember you then they’ll think who the hell is that weirdo waving at me in that shit yellow van. I’d just rather avoid it all shut my eyes, not wave and pretend it never happened.  So why the feck have I started waving to complete strangers now?
With all this waving going down it sort of makes you feel a bit happier without you even realising it, almost like these complete waving strangers are happy to see me so therefore you’re happy to see them making everyone involved pretty dam happy, that’s got to be good for general happiness and day to day waving morale .
My favourite wave has to be the finger point which is generally done by older men and van drivers where most woman tend to use their whole hand, I personally like to go for the little finger wave as it’s not too full on yet still friendly enough if you give them a little smile at the same time.
This is the first wave on my new Gulfstream tow board and it defiantly made me feel happy.

A surf blog

Enough of this blogging about old naked men drying their todgers with hand dryers, getting punched in the face for no apparent reason other than I’m only slightly ginger, having a shit van or stupid dogs who try and commit suicide every time you drive past them.  These aren’t the sort of things that people want to hear about and I’m told it scares off potential sponsors too. It’s supposed to be all about surfing and how great it always is, and although January was basically shit and it was hard to keep up enthusiasm we did have one good day and I’ve just realised that I haven’t even mentioned it on here which is sort of bizarre as this is a surfing blog.
OK so it wasn’t epic and I didn’t get any absolute bombs but here’s a frame grab from one to give you an idea.

Hand dryer dick swing.

I’ve been scarred for life, the other day I saw an old naked man drying himself under a hand dryer in the changing rooms at the gym, the strangest thing about this was it wasn’t like he’d forgotten his towel as he was holding it in one hand and pushing the button with the other whilst swinging himself under the hand dryer. I’m not one to judge as I am known to do some pretty odd things myself but this is exceptional public behaviour by anyone’s standards, in the privacy of your own home maybe yes do whatever feels good but in the changing rooms of the local gym, come on mate why can’t you just use your towel like everyone else in here rather than getting all up close and personal with the hand dryer and swinging it all over the place. As I left he tried talking to me, luckily he’d finally put some pants on after his hand dryer acrobatics but I just panicked, agreed with whatever he said and made for a quick exit trying not to get eye contact.
Obviously I couldn’t put a photo of a naked old man on my blog no matter how much I really wanted too although I could have taken a photo of the hand dryer mentioned but in the end just decided to post a picture of my glorious self in my new Tiki Zepha wetsuit, which is keeping me warm enough though not to behave like the old man in the gym which is good news for everyone involved.

New name for matey boy.

I’ve renamed my van ‘Twat’ I used to call it matey boy but that was when we got on and I felt it was taking me places, now it’s just become unreliable and just breaks down when you really need him to push on through almost like its slowly giving up the game, costing me a feck load of money in the process. The last time it broke down I had this sudden urge, instead getting it towed to the nearest garage to get it fixed, I’d get it towed to the nearest lake, dowse it in petrol, set fire to the fecker then push its burning corpse in and watch it slowly sink then just forget about it and pretend I never even owned a van.
I didn’t though as what would that achieve, bit like cutting off your nose to spite your face or whatever that saying is and although I have renamed my van Twat deep down I still have a lot of love for it. So I took it to the garage where they performed life saving surgery on its vital bits and he now lives to tell another tale, well for the time being.....

Painful.......

Painful isn’t it. Bit like last month when a complete stranger walked up to me outside the Boots on Falmouth high street and for no apparent reason apart from I’m slightly ginger and dashingly handsome punched me so hard in the face he knocked me clean out. I spent the night in Trelisk Hospital, Turo which is where my sister was born and ended up with 6 stitches in the back of my head and 5 in my face, ruining my plans for a future modelling career.
Surprisingly the Police weren’t that interested when I informed them about my scenario as I wasn’t parked on double yellow lines, speeding or involved in any other minor motoring offence and I left Cornwall l with a feck off headache, concussion and slightly confused about human nature and why me being knocked out by a fist to the face wasn’t classed as an assault by the local constabulary, but why would it.
Anyway none of that has anything to do with the amount of pain I’ve endured over the weekend which started early Saturday morning with the above photo and a road trip planned for great waves. 24 hours later, minus my van which is in a garage somewhere in Galway plus what I can only describe as a wacky race around Ireland we arrived at our surf destination. It was pumping and I got another kicking but no actual body harm was inflicted. I won’t bother reporting it to the police either there wouldn’t be any point.

Car park envy

I generally don’t use a towel, obviously I do when I get out the shower at home but it’s one of those things I don’t take or use when I go surfing. They usually end up damp and wet, then left in the van and stinking of mould with a slight tinge of wetsuit piss. I’d rather just put my clothes straight on and miss out the whole towel situation. It goes like this: wetsuit off down to waist, t shirt and jacket straight on, pull jacket over balls whilst stepping out of wetsuit then pants and jeans on at same time as quick as possible while still trying to cover my balls with my jacket. Simples, why would anyone need a towel?
Well this year my life and old ways have been turned upside down thanks to Dry robe and although I may look like a bit of a plumb and I’ve turned into one of those smug I’m enjoying getting changed in the car park even though its fecking cold and everyone else is hating life sort of guys, I have to say I’m quite pleased with myself. General folk are jealous I can tell.
Photo.http://davidolsthoorn.net/

Suicide dog

Don’t be fooled by its innocent I’m lonely come pat me eyes, this dog just narrowly escaped death when it tried to commit suicide in front of my van. In fact it narrowly escapes death quite a few times a day as it recklessly tries to throw itself under the wheels of unsuspecting, innocent passing cars. I don’t know its name but I do know I’d be in all sorts of emotional bother if one day it succeeded, maybe it knows that and that’s his plan. Well it isn’t going to work Mr Suicide Dog, not with me I’m far too careful and on the ball with my driving matey.
I’m back in Ireland for a few months and settling in nicely to our new home. It’s nice, cosy yet spacious and even has a garage but driving to and from it can be lethal as there seems to be quite a few dogs roaming free who try and throw themselves in front of your car and this little bugger is the worst for it.
Oh the surf’s been fun too.........