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The authors at WIRB are many things.

On one hand we are extremely good looking men, with charm charisma and a wicked sense of timing (if you know what I mean ladies…. two is better than one…. that’s all I’m saying).

On the other hand we are extremely sad boys that giggle at big boobs, farts and emo kids (ladies have professed to two minutes in heaven being better than one minute in heaven….. that’s all I’m saying).

One thing we are not are surfers. We all have boardies that hardly get wet and when they do, it is more likely to be in fresh water because salt water tastes funny and Verbal Kent reckons he can’t get his hair right for three days after being in it.

Surfers to us are another breed. Their ripped, taut bodies gleam in the summer sun (when it appears) as drips of ocean cascade down their hairless torso (man, even I have a semi right now…). Sun bleached hair flops over their tanned faces like a halo. They taunt you with their wizardry convincing you that this art form is achievable to any beach bum. Alas it isn’t and the seventh wave wolf pack will hound, critique and belittle any attempt that you, the runt tries to make in their back yard.

So fuck you platonicly good looking surfer dude, I envy and hate you. Now, where’s my guitar that I haven’t touched in 8 years – I’m gonna start a rock band….

BIGGEST TEAHUPOO EVER, SHOT ON THE PHANTOM CAMERA. from Chris Bryan on Vimeo.

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