the girl with the dragon tattoo who proceeded to play with fire

So after watching the five office episodes I've been able to download with my intermittent etherscape at least 5 times each I finally decided it was time to get a book. I went to the bookstore in town and once I got over the astonishment that there actually was one I went inside. I thumbed through their numerous books about surfing (ob-vi-ous-ly), gator wrasslin, bush whacking and beet farming before finally settling on something a little more my (lauren) pace. I had heard good things about it, and the dragon graphic on the front was super cool so I went with the girl with the dragon tattoo. Yeah I read chick books, so? After all, every book is a chick's book if the girl can read. Anyway I thoroughly enjoyed the intrigue, plot twists, vivid characters and strong sexual content of this first book in larsson's globally acclaimed trilogy. Spoiler alert: a car bomb takes out the entire character body in the final scene. Just kidding, or am I? So now I'm about two hundred pages into book two and the plot has basically devolved into pure literotica.at first I was thinking ok larsson what's it going to be, porn or mystery? Pick a lane man. But he just plunges further into the smut pit. I would have my blogging rights revoked if I even tried to tell you how lewd, lascivious salacious and outrageous this stuff is. So I've pretty much decided that the whole murder mystery theme is a just a delivery vehicle for the smut. That being said, this smut is as pure as the driven snow - figuratively speaking. This stuff would make perverts blush, and I have decided that anyone who enjoys these books is a deviant unfit for life in a civil society. Needless to say I'm looking forward to book three.

DEVO

I just saw hands down the worst look in the history of cronulla, the greater sydney metro area and possibly all of australia. This guy was walking along the street wearing all black vans, high brown dress socks, a yellow striped bathing suit and an old avalanches hockey jersey with sleeves down to his mid forearm. To boot he had a neon boogie board under his arm. Just absolutely devastating, or devo as aussies say. I looked at the mediocre chick walking next to him and just thought to myself: I would do anything for love, but I won't do that.

bodysurfing

Over the past few weeks I've noticed that I'm absurdly good at bodysurfing. I literally almost stood up on a wave last weekend, I'm that good. And it makes sense; I'm all surface area, a true miracle of hydrodynamics. I need to find some competition and just start hustling people, like woody harrelson in white men can't jump. Ill show up wearing aqua socks and knee highs, cargo shorts and a shirt that says 'music changed my life' ( I saw some guy wearing one the other day). then ill come out of nowhere and light people up. Textbook hustle. And anyone who gets in my way is going home in a bodybag, force equals mass times acceleration and when I drop down a barrel, it's get out of the way or get stiff armed at 20 miles an hour.

where in jamaica do you live?

Rrright on da beach! I'm sitting on the beach right now and the water line just receded a solid hundred yards, which only means one thing: FREE FISH! Seriously they're just flopping around out there. I'm going to go collect as many as I can. Man just when I think australia couldn't get any more dangerous it goes and does something like this.... And totally redeems itself.

ink

Today at the beach I was shocked at the number of tattoos I saw. I'm not completely opposed to tattoos, if they're small and done tastefully like a swastika on the forehead or something. But the fine cronulla residents are just overdoing it with the ink. I saw easily 5 male tramp stamps today. Male. Tramp. Stamps. Just devastating. And these weren't peoplple who had run out of canvas space on the epidermis. There was no process of elimination here, they walked into the parlor and traded their dignity for a spiky circle above their ass. Game blouses. Well I'm headed to the gym because I literally have nothing better to do. My eventual goal is to look like edward norton circa american history x.

crewing

So I finally found a rowing club nearby on the st georges river. I've been sculing there twice, once during the mid morning when the boat traffic had picked up to the point where it was unrowable, and another time at 6 in the morning. The river is pretty wide where you launch from, with a trestle bridge and a bunch of boats moored offshore. But as you go up the river it starts to look like something straight out of apocalypse now. And not the naked scenes with the playboy bunnies. There are mangroves on either bank that just look like they're probably concealing the most horrifying creature on the continent. And to boot, some of the employees were telling me about the great whites they have seen on the river. Apparently they go insane and swim up brackish rivers when they're sick. The normal residents are bull sharks, which can also get pretty big and aggressive. But do I care? No. And my hand is steady out there; it doesn't shake, just like leo's in the departed. I actually I hope I see a shark when I'm in a double, just so I can turn to whoever I'm crewing with and say 'were gonna need a bigger boat.' It's so rare to be able to use that line, especially in pretty much the exact context its used in for jaws. In other news I saw a guy at the gym today wearing sunglasses as he worked out. It was around 7pm. I asked if he was agent smith from the matrix and he was not amused. Why would he need to wear sunglasses in the gym. Either he's ill in the brain or he doesn't have pupils -just white eyes- and doesn't want to cause a scene in which case sunglasses are his civic duty. As a rule, if I see a guy with no pupils its usually game over for whatever I'm doing

Weekend

Been sick for most of the week. Went to the local medical clinic on thursday and sat next to a goat in the waiting room. The witch doctor on call gave me a dozen newts and a rattle stick. I'm feeling better.

There's this crazy guy who lives across the street from me. He spends easily fifteen hours a day standing on his third story balcony just yelling at passers-by. Just bat-shit crazy. The other night i heard someone on the street screaming back at him, telling him he was going to choke him out if he bothered his girlfriend again. But of course this is a lovely neighborhood i swear. Anyway I havent seen him on the balcony since. Next time i see him ill just tell him.....yo homeboy, you played yourself.