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Year View| Summary| Highlights| Month View| Sunday 9 October 2005 (Day View)

09.10.2005Sunday 9 October – Surfer’s Horrors & a few Grammatical Ones

Today, because I can’t sleep until my custard has gone down a little more, I am going to use, not just my usual commas, but colons, semi-colons, and—in a first for me—actual em dashes as they were originally intended to be used: Waking early enough to eat breakfast was, in theory, a good idea; theory, however, is theoretical—getting out of a comfortable bed in the morning is not. To say that another way, I decided to sleep in, although not for long as I had a train to Surfer’s Paradise to catch. It’s strange how track work, and the delays, detours and bother it causes, actually make people friendlier; on a normal train journey, no one talks, no one makes eye contact, no one really does anything, but the change from the norm gets people chatting. Speaking of strange, a few of the people on the train to Nerang were a bit that way: I sat behind a group on their way to Dream World, who had found a bug, named it “Bob”, and were teaching it the meaning of life; I chatted to two young girls, who could barely stop laughing, and who were avoiding a strange man calling them “nuts”, and who they believed was trying to touch them; I was told that Nerang was the “freak’s station”, and then laughed at by two young girls when I got off, who I later met at the beach, they having forgot to get off at Nerang...
Surfer’s Paradise was busy and stifling hot; walking along the beach, waiting for people who were nearly two hours late, all but killed me. A large orange juice revived me, and—the people having finally arrived—we set off for another walk along the beach, finishing up at a less packed beach with great waves. The water looked lovely, the waves looked pleasant, and it all looked quite inviting; expecting a pleasant swim, I dived in, only to find the water was deathly cold, the waves deadly, and the water infested with lice—but perfect for bodysurfing, which is what I happily did, until I began to get stung, and very, very cold. When I began to shake uncontrollably, I decided I had better get out and get warm. I sat in the sun for nearly an hour before I stopped shaking, feeling as though I was going to throw up, and coming out in a rash all over; it was rather strange, and not a little disturbing; fortunately, after an hour or so, I was mostly back to normal and again able to control my muscles.
I sat on the sand at Surfer’s Paradise talking until the darkness rose over the horizon, changing the waves into frothy trains, careering crazily down the beach before disappearing into a spray of noxious, shiver inducing, lice ridden, jellyfish laden “water”—with an eerie green tinge, colouring the sand. The world’s tallest residential building—now nearly complete it would seem—has a large light that beams out over the ocean, and a flashing red tower on top, making a good marker to head for when one sits on a beach until it’s dark. The—to change the topic without changing the paragraph, and give me one last excuse to use two em dashes—train journey back home again was less eventful (or so I’m telling you, my fine (and not so fine (to put it rather nicely (or so I think (assuming (getting philosophical for a moment) that thinking (as we think of it) is, indeed, thought))) readers (by which time you’ve (I assume) forgotten where they (the readers) came from (or have you?))) than the one down. That, I am afraid, is the end.
Comment by Mum – Tuesday 18 October 2005, 10:00 AM
  I(that is me) think (if you dont mind my saying so) )and of coarse it is just two dam bad if yew due)):, that it is (saying sew)>>< ! (and with grate empharsis)) that I (and might I suggest, menny uthers) are grate full that that is< you am afraid? the end. BSecause we might (be, if one could dare sujjesht) that it mite be quiet naice that that is indeed (you am afraid) the end. Sigh.

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