| A few months ago, a friend called to ask
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| | tales of 120kg neanderthals performing
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| if I'd like to join her on a surfing
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| | surfboard proctology on anyone who
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| lesson at Manly Beach in Sydney. Giving
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| | accidentally took their wave, ensured the
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| thought to my answer, two images flashed
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| | closest I came to the thrills of surfing
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| to mind. My thirty-nine year old battle
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| | was through the eyes of a six o'clock
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| weary body, attempting to hang five with
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| | sports news camera.After the lesson I
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| a gaggle of bewildered foreign
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| | realised how irrational these fears had
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| backpackers and pointing school kids. And
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| | been. I'd seen dozens of board riders
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| more vividly, the look on the faces of my
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| | emerge from the sea every day. They all
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| settled couple and married-with-kids
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| | still had their torsos, and very few
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| friends if they knew I was even
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| | walked as if they had a surfboard stuck
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| considering the idea.Having recently
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| | in their backsides. Never again would I
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| broken out of Sydney's Lower North Shore
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| | allow an issue outside of my control to
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| maximum suburbia and moved to fun-filled
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| | prevent me from living out my surfing
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| Manly beach, I had already become a prime
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| | dream!Which meant I'd need a more
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| suspect in their case against
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| | tangible fear. It came to me just after
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| dirty-thirties attempting to recapture
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| | the smirking surf shop grommet had taken
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| lost youth. It wasn't that I'd been
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| | my money and watched me leave with eight
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| caught driving a red convertible sports
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| | feet of fiberglass, a rubber suit, two
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| car or acting suspiciously outside Botox
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| | packets of golden tan bikini girl board
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| clinics. However, I had been hauled into
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| | wax, and his sunglasses stand wrapped in
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| Fresco painted living rooms and
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| | my leg rope. Maybe my sensible friends
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| interrogated under the glare of designer
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| | were right after all? Perhaps I was
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| mood lighting over alleged mixed touch
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| | pathetically holding on to a long lost
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| football games on weekends, bar hopping
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| | youth?Coyly making my way down the beach,
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| on school nights, and clubbing on any
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| | I felt the stares of sunbakers boring
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| night, sternly warned that such
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| | into me, knowing exactly what they were
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| activities were not something a
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| | thinking. A voice came over the lifesaver
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| self-respecting man of my age should be
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| | club speakers. No-one ever understands
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| involved in."Sure, count me in" I
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| | those announcements, but I heard it
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| replied. Breaking the news to the fun
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| | clearly, "You, the thirty-nine year old
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| police couldn't be any more embarrassing
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| | guy in the hysterically fitted wetsuit.
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| than having to answer the question asked
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| | Act your age. Put down the surfboard and
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| of every male living in a beachside
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| | move back between the flags. Nice and
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| suburb, "So do you surf?" with a mumbled
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| | slow." Just as I thought the game was up,
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| reply about body bashing in a pair of
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| | I took one last look at the lapping water
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| flippers. Besides, one lesson was hardly
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| | and realised I'd come to far to stop now.
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| a commitment. It was like a speed date.
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| | Mustering every ounce of courage in my
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| I'd hook up with a few boards, share some
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| | entertaining frame, I clutched my board
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| laughs, make a fool of myself, and never
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| | like a swagman with his tucker-bag and
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| be seen again.The day arrived, and
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| | yelled, "You'll never catch me alive",
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| everything seemed to be was going to
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| | crashing into the sea, leaving the world
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| plan. Paddle out, thrash about like a
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| | of epochlitically correct troopers in my
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| puppet on amphetamines, catch a wave,
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| | wake.I've been honing my paltry surfing
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| attempt to stand shakily, fall off
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| | skills for a while now and still find
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| comically, try to laugh at ones self
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| | myself upside down more often than not,
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| louder than at those around you, and
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| | but it doesn't matter. As any golf hacker
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| start again. At this rate, I'd be back in
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| | will tell you, one sweet drive down the
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| the safety of the pub in no time, telling
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| | middle of a long straight fairway redeems
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| those who asked, "Yeah, I used to surf
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| | 99 slices into the car park and dribbles
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| until I wiped out on a submerged German
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| | off the end of the tee. Just give me one
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| and did my back in."Then the most bizarre
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| | smooth ride on a glistening blue
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| thing happened. After landing one
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| | satin-sheet wave, overflowing champagne
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| particularly kind wave and staggering to
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| | froth in my wake, and not a backpacker to
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| my feet, the regulation left hook that
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| | be seen between my board and the beach,
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| had sent me crashing to the canvas all
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| | and this middle-aged delinquent will
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| day never arrived. I was still standing,
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| | always be back for more. Because the only
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| surfing right over the top of the
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| | thing that scares me these days is
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| remaining backpackers, while the school
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| | imagining what life would be like if I'd
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| kids didn't even register a bump!There
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| | never become a surfer dude.Four things
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| was no denying my giant esky lid was
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| | every late starter should know about
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| about the size of the QEII, and would
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| | surfing:1.Physiological studies have
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| have remained stable with an entire
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| | demonstrated that surfing is an excellent
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| Central African government onboard,
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| | form of exercise. An aerobic fitness
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| however, gliding across water with the
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| | study at Deakin University found that
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| sun on my face, salt on my lips, and sand
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| | competitive surfers rate comparable to
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| in my shorts left me exhilarated in a way
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| | Nordic skiers and distance runners,
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| no Sunday night happy hour ever had. By
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| | whilst my study found it reduced budding
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| the end of the lesson I knew that
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| | man-boobs and wobbly love handles.2.Male
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| somewhere in a surf shop out there, a
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| | surfers have licence to stand at the back
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| shapely piece of fibreglass was calling
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| | of the beach and ogle women for at least
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| my name.From an early age, I'd always
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| | fifteen minutes longer than other men
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| loved Sydney beaches. Face-planting on a
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| | before being arrested, provided they at
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| sandbank after catching a 'dumpa'; having
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| | least pretend to be studying the swells
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| to "do a runner" across the scorching hot
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| | in the water too. Female surfers have no
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| sand until we found a place to drop our
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| | additional ogling rights over other women
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| towels; waiting ravenously in the shop
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| | because men only wish they all did it
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| line for a chocolate Paddle Pop and a pie
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| | more often.3.It is worth investing in a
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| n' sauce with the sensation of course
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| | good quality wetsuit. In addition to
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| damp sand under my feet, and scent of
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| | their heating benefits, they evenly
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| salt caking bodies under my nose; the
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| | distribute excess body lard throughout
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| golden tanned girls who, well, just
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| | the rubber skin.4.No matter what your
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| walked around being golden tanned girls.
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| | mates tell you, a wetsuit should be worn
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| My transcendental surfing lesson aboard
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| | with the zipper at the back. I
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| the HMAS Polystyrene left me wondering,
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| | promise.Best places to learn to surf in
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| "Why didn't I try this years ago?"Amongst
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| | Sydney:Manly Surf School Offers classes
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| a list of very lame excuses, only one
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| | at four of Sydney's northern beaches
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| seemed to have any validity. Fear. As a
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| | daily throughout the year.Bondi Surf
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| teenager without a car, it had been less
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| | School - Lets Go Surfing Offers classes
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| frightening to stand in the local nets
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| | at Sydney's most famous beach throughout
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| and watch cricket balls fly towards my
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| | the year.Simon Hillier runs Get There, a
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| face, or attempt, and often fail, to jump
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| | freelance writing service based in
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| BMX bikes over 5ft ditches, than let
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| | Sydney, AustraliaIn a career spanning 18
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| golden tanned girls see me hanging out at
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| | years, Simon has worked in advertising,
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| the beach with mum and dad.In my
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| | television production, travel, sales and
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| twenties, I was building a career,
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| | marketing, and e-commerce. In 2005,
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| travelling the world, and discovering
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| | during a rare moment of clarity, if not
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| that there was more to a female's beauty
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| | sanity, Simon leapt from the relative
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| than the shade of her tan. By this time
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| | safety of his office cubicle, into the
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| my parents were permitted to accompany me
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| | murky waters of freelance writing, where
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| in public, however, the thought of
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| | he now specializes in feature articles,
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| prehistoric man-eaters licking their lips
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| | travel writing, copywriting, web content,
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| underneath my bobbing sea biscuit, and
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| | ebooks and scriptwriting.
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