THE BELL'S RUNG, I'M POSTED.

LONELY? I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT LONELY.

Comes from years of body surfing, the feeling of utter loneliness and misery of being POSTED and thoughts of sweet revenge.
If I live.
I could AND DID spend several hours body surfing, it was my one and only ‘drug’, possibly with the exception of a little Chardonnay and A wee glass of Resches from NEWPORT ARMS. OH, and nice girl quite night.

Some facts; Avalon Surf Club is real; it was a monumental moment in my life. This organization molded my life, I have never met so many great blokes and good Sheila’s ever. My dear wife Shirley and me commenced our lives from this bastion of camaraderie, it is a world of special people, all with a common goal.

We had two great children, we had good times, then she was gone.

My life is dedicated to Volunteering, OH, and my kids. I assist people by mentoring, I assist people in their personal development. My thought process is sometimes erratic, understand.

If I wander, if you see me wander, bear with me. I began serious writing recently, my fashion is 2nd, 3rd and back to 1st party, my grammar is crap, I search for words.

Again I have digressed, however all of what I write is in my vernacular, help me not to change.

I’M POSTED OUT THE BACK, YOU mongrels.

Avalon Beach, Northern Beaches, Aussie, just one more place that I have been.
Not been there? What a shame, you’ve missed out so let me set the scene.
Just finished patrol washed and packed up all the gear
Must go and join me mates, me dearest mates, the mates I feel so near.
The blokes have been out the back, Maxie, Kegs, Bombhead, Shanks, just to name a few.
Michael, Sprouley and Big Brian would make up the motley crew.

OK, you ALL were all there you mongrels, catchin’ waves and frolicking.
Farls wants a go at them waves and give you guys a bollickin’.

Overcast late afternoon we’re way way out the back, got me flippers, got me hand board and ‘Budgies’ to.
How’s that for an ‘intro folks, and maybe now you will understand what I’m eluding too.

So the ‘keywords’, are overcast and mongrels, and I must have lost me track.
It all comes down to being ‘posted’ way way out the back.

G’day blokes, howsitgoin’ I’ve come to catch a few. And that was my big mistake.
‘Cause at this point I am a marked man, ‘cause self indulgence and my ego, that’s what they will take.

Maxie Watt with no apparent effort, takes of on a right hand curling wave.
His crappy old ply wood hand board takes him in the cave.

Boofhead tries to emulate with his yellow plastic artifac, down the mine arse over head.
And that is life for me, way way out the back.

Some time comes to pass and QY’s beckons all the willing surfers, I don’t notice numbers fleetin’.
I’m out here for a good time not a long time, and the fact not yet known.
Because it won’t be long before “posted out the back” Farls will be a greetin’.

Odd stuff, I finally catch a wave, but, somewhere in the distance I here this strange commotion.
Swimmin’ out I see all the mates on one wave looking up and smiling, farls, the BELL HAS RUNG.
Sorry mate your all alone, your POSTED in this big ocean.

Overcast late afternoon and now your on your own, posted out the back, not a soul out there, the seeds me mates have sown.

I have related OLD WALL EYE, other sharkey bits from my page home, right now they all come back to haunt me, bugger me I’m all alone.

Picture this my dilemma, swimmin’ backwards slowly, gotta’ give the impression of countenance.
But all the time my bladder’s crying, recon it’s called incontinence.

On the shore they will consider, ah, he’s setting up for a wave.
Wrong, you mongrels just getting further from my grave.

You catch a crappy thing, one you would ignore, an ordinary wave and really out of hand.
Head down arse up and your face buried in the sand.

You look up at the Club, there were people watching you, but now their gone.

I’m on the beach, I’m safe, sound, I’m back in town big-time.
Next time I’ll be waiting the call to bail out will be mine.

Wait you bastards because revenge is sweet, next time the bells get rung, I’ll quietly slip away, and next you see me will be yon Surf Club verandah, and now my song is sung.

Dedicated to all AVALON BEACH SURF CLUB members, past and past.

John Farley 2008