The Hot Tub

You know that wave pool in Malaysia? The one that looks as if Satan and Steve Wynn actualized their grandest design scheme ever? Well if that shit isn’t meant to be ripped apart by a Ski-doo hucking artistic wave mashers then I don’t know what is. Stab alone saw this potential and milked its chlorinated teats for an explosive pictorial featuring Parkinson, Burrows and Munro. Such was the success that it needed a sequel, this time starring Josh Kerr, Christian Fletcher, Wade Goodall and Jamie O.
The boys all arrived in Kuala Lumpur from different corners of the globe. Jamie was out out, miles away in Bali. But when the opportunity to rip fan-generated swell arose, he broke travel records in order to arrive.
Still, he was late. The other boys had had a few days to perfect their slob superman shuv-its. Jamie didn’t. He exited his resort provided airport transport to the sound of jetski whinge and sight of Josh Kerr flying above photographer flashes. Hustling down to the concrete edge, he was soon being flung at man-made wedges.
He set the high-flying standard on his second wave. Second wave, fresh off a plane, no practice, setting the standard for other artistically aerial connoisseurs.
I mean, everyone knows Jamie is somethingfuckingelse on a board. The run-on sentence yoga employed to describe his surfing has, in fact, become downright retarded. A recent article drooled, “Recognized as one of the world’s most exciting surfers, Jamie is a leader, innovator, and all around charger, known for tackling some of the most serious surf around and adding acrobatic airs on a whim will surely be a star for some time.” Stupid, though I can’t really talk. I’ve devolved to using doubled up haiku.

Being flung at a hand-crafted monster
The Irish spring twists his arms around his legs and sled rail
Eyeballs pop out of mixed-race Asian heads.

So how does Jamie describe his own wave pool desecration experience?
“It was sick… fucken… .sick. Since the wave was consistent you could set it up… all pretty unique. I almost hit the wall a couple times… knowing that it was just this one wedge you could throw up big fucken poses. I was kind of bummed. I got there late and I wished I could have done it a ton more… I only went, like, eight times overall. I wish I could have had more time. I had a chance to get back but I haven’t been yet. I want to get back, though. It was cool. It was a good fucken idea… the pool and the ski. Fucken fun. I had never really surfed with Josh before and wanted to. We all definitely pushed back and forth… pushed each other to go bigger. It was sick. The only problem was the ski kept breaking down… that ski was a pile of shit.”
Shitty ski or no, Jamie wowed all present with his spine-bending aerials. He’s a big boy, yet contorts hisself like an Ulster circus midget. This combination of brawn and flexibility, plus a lack of fear in his frontal lobe, allows Jamie to reach new levels of surf madness. If the boy rides macking Pipe switch, you can imagine what he’s capable of in a controlled environment. Head of the sequel class, baby.

Rules are for small men with unfilled scrota
Not giant Gaelic pushers of fantastical awesome
Don’t slip on the mixed-race Asian eyeballs.

“It was a good fucken idea, the pool and the ski. Fucken fun. I had never really surfed with Josh before and wanted to. We all definitely pushed back and forth… pushed each other to go bigger. It was sick.”