I don’t really need to do write this post.

Without meaning to sound callous, cold, calculated, cynical and a bit of a… cunt, the shark attack in WA today meant that the traffic spiked anyway. I’m letting you into the dark, twisted side of web content here, but shark attacks are big winners on clicks. You don’t need to think, create, any of those things. You bash out a few, vague, semi-factual lines, bung up a pic and whack it on Facebook. Then sit back and watch the traffic go batshit.

Sad, but true. The only thing better than a shark attack post is a shark attack ‘split post’ or ‘listicle’. That’s one of those things where we let you read a few lines then make you click next or pg2, etc, for more. We quintruple our ‘page impressions’ without doing anything vaguely creative or original.

The only thing better than a shark attack listicle is anything to do with Kelly Slater or Anastasia Ashley in the nude. That’s the state of the game. That’s ‘new media.’ If Kelly and Anastasia were both surfing nude and both got attacked by a shark, well, web editors the world over could take the rest of the month off. Again, sad, but true-ish. The other thing worth mentioning, before you lament, is that it’s all your fault. You bought the fucking iPhone, didn’t you? You consumed ‘content’ on your wretched ‘tablet’ didn’t you? How much did you spend on printed surf media this month? Well? All. Your. Fault.

Anyway, enough about you, let’s crack on!

Slater vs. Logie happened at 2pm. 2pm is an awful time to show up at the comp. You missed lunch and the only thing of note happening is the queue at the port-a-potty of just-lunched VIPs needing a shit. The VIP area isn’t quite what you might expect. Rather than being full of rap stars, hard body models and Formula 1 drivers, it’s full of three-years-olds. You ‘d be amazed how many pre-school tots are waddling around the VIP.

Meanwhile, the great unwashed, the plebs, the folk who constitute only a P and in no way merit a V or I go without the luxury of queueing to take a shit. If you are just a P and are watching the 2014 Quik Pro France, due to fact that the closest beach access is closed to the public, you must make the massive soft sand yomp up to Estagnots to relieve yourself. Ye of grumbling prostate, ye of busy bowel, stay by your computer. Stay and regale in Joey Turps’ brand new verb tense, known as ‘future perfect’. Future perfect is used for a surfing manoeuvre that’s already happened, but is to be described in the future tense. “He’ll check in for a vision” as he comes out of the tube, after the tube. ‘He’ll go out in front for a vertical stab” After he completes said vertical stab.

Whatever. Dissing the commentary is even worse than Facebook commenting on the judging. Only an asshole would do that. Only an asshole that had never queued for a VIP shit, and probably never will.

Meanwhile, in the sea, Jordy smoked Julian Wilson. Smoked. Taj mullered Kai Ottz. Mullered.

Then Round 4 happened. I hate Round 4. I don’t even like Round 2. I reckon once you lose, you lose. You should have your parking pass and wristband taken back and have to leave the site. All of this second and third chance shit is just part of an evil conspiracy to keep the same dudes at the top. What’s that Kelly, you lost? Don’t worry, we’ll get you through the Quarters, somehow. Sure, it’s part of an evil global conspiracy. It’s the same people that promote culling of sharks and cover up chem trails stories and fitted up Assange and are putting fluoride in tap water and won’t even let Joe Public go for a wee or a poo at a surf contest. It’s a fucking outrage.



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