Clueless to Ruthless

simply could not believe it. This freaking guy. He’d barely scratch into a wave at the boil-ridden, sand-sucking point we were surfing before hilariously biffing the drop and getting pitched into the flats, board tombstoning. While he flailed around on the inside, I’d edge over to the peak to take his vacated spot. But every time he’d blow one, there he’d come, walking back to the top of the point where he’d jump in and begin his paddle, trying to work around me to get back into pole position before the next set came. He tried this three times, each absurd walk

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