I’m a big fan of Mick Fanning’s poetry. Such a big fan that every time we hang out, I employ him to compose me another masterpiece. One night on the North Shore, after punching my brother and staggering off into the night like a wounded coyote, I wound up at the Red Bull house with Mick, Beau Emerton, The Hazza (Harrington) Bros, and Blair Marlin. The next day I woke up with a poem from Mick in my pocket—here it is:
By Mick Fanning
In my bunk bed as I sleep, random chicks, in they creep.
Many people in the house, who belongs to this blouse?
Drinking beer with my mates, can’t get two out of the crate.
In the end, we love to surf. Everyone looks after their home turf.