It’s been four days without the water, the waves preventing us from launching has left me hot and bothered. I need to feel that blue rush, the anticipation as the boat surges through the waves, the spray sharding past the bow with a life of its own.
The reef rustling below as the sun’s rays kaleidoscope down into the deep blue. I need that symphony crescendo as the wreck rises out of the shimmering cloud of fusiliers.
I need Le Grande Bleu.
Our Selective Moral Outrage - There’s a Facebook post doing the usual rounds calling for the United Kingdom to try/extradite/spank Adele Balasingham, the widow of former Tiger theoretic...
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