Shaking My Head

First off, I hate politics. Hate it. Unfortunately, I have my convictions and have a hard time ignoring it all the way I'd like.

So, as I see it, the democrats blew it. Again. They had the opportunity for an unbeatable ticket and they blew it. So now, once again, I have to sit thru another four years of bitching in moaning about, our next President Of The United States... John McCain.

Tuesdays

Thank God for Tuesdays! My only refuge from certain daily, weekday torment... Foul temptress.

@#$%^&*!!!!

...so friggin' frustrated...

Go Skateboarding Day?

Today, June 21st, is "Go Skateboarding Day". I, personally, try to make as many days as possible 'Go Skateboarding Day' for my self. I'm not going to knock it, though. I went to the park today and skated too long. Got myself a fresh coat of farmer's tan (face is burning), burnt a hole in my pushing foot and I have a massive head ache. Speaking of head aches...

=========================================

Good vs. Evil

We all come to the cross-roads where we get a chance to choose whether we're good or bad, I guess. I think I'm still on the right side. Yesterday, somebody had a head ache... "Want some Excedrin?", I offered.

"I've never taken Excedrin before."

"Here you go..."

"Can you chew it?"

NOW! Here I am at the cross roads. I know that chewing Excedrin is ill-advised. I did it one time before and it will NEVER, ever, ever happen again. The taste of Excedrin makes aspirin or Goodies taste like PEZ. The taste of Excedrin is God-awful. Like Lucifer's taint, probably... But I have a choice to make... do I get a good laugh at the expense of somebody else or do I do the right thing. It took me a little longer than it should of, but finally I said.

"Nah man, you don't wanna chew that."

Guess I'm still good with the Lord for the moment.

=========================================

Speaking of burning in eternal hell-fire... I hope there is an especially hot spot in Hades for all you Outsoucerers out there. I wish you daily mud-butt without wet-wipe relief and I hope fire water drips from your wieners when you piss! ...Maybe I'm a little bitter, but I'm tired of watching Americans losing their jobs in the name of the all-mighty dollar. You're going to get what you deserve.

Lights Out

I'm becoming a habitually disappointed idealist. (Let me just first say that I've been for digging for oil in the homeland from the jump. Anwr? Forget caribou! Let's dig already! John McCain was the deciding vote against it(?) Anyway...) With gas costing me about $50/tank, I started thinking about buying (I abhor the word "purchase") a bicycle to ride to the skate park. To the Y. Hell, maybe even to work. So I bought a bike.

Now I haven't ridden a bike regularly since circa 1987 when I first pict up and subsequently fell in love with the skateboard. I forgot about slippin' pedals, flipping over handle bars... Et cetera. And back then I thought I lived in the hills. Nah. I live in the hills now.

So anyway, I went and bought a 2006 Haro V-series V2. It's 8-speed. My Huffy back in the day didn't have shocks in the fork. It didn't have gears. I took the test to get my driver's license after having mastered the stick-shift, but shifting on a bike? I decided I'd just keep it in first.

So I headed out. Down my driveway. Down the hill out of my neighborhood. Down to the greenway, along the river and to the Y. Easy. I headed back. Back up.

Up I went... in first. Pedaled, pedaled, pedaled.. In a car, when you're going up a big hill, and the engine struggles, you down shift. I stayed in first.

Finally, I got home after pedalling back up my driveway. Parked the bike, walked in the house. Short of breathe, gushing sweat, the AC hit me. My vision faded to black and down I went. On the kitchen floor (next to the litter box) I laid face down and dreampt about not being able to breathe. I don't know for how long.

THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD.. the sound I wake to and my chin hurts because I'm involuntarily banging it on the floor. The THUD is the sound of me drawing my head back, then dropping my chin to the kitty-litter-dust-covered floor. I decided maybe I ought to roll over onto my back.

After a couple minutes, I was ok, except for all the kitty-litter sticking to me and my newly bruised chin. I stood up, went to the fridge and downed an orange Gatorade, then another, then sat on the couch, checked my email, watched The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford and finally went skateboarding.

I drove (my gas-guzzling SUV) to the park.

With the help of webMD, I determined that I likely had a heat stroke. That was Monday. Since then, I've figured out how to work the gears.

Buttery Ass Mondays

"How yall don't got purple?"

We got slang hangin', mang. Word.

Corn Fairy

Behold, the Corn Fairy. He doesn't ride in on a pale horse nor is the flapping of his dainty wings like unto the sounding of 70,000 ram's horns, but when he comes round there will be much weeping and gnashing of teethe.

Observe the beast; In his left hand he holds a scepter (capable of renaming departments and re-organizations). His lighter than air shoes float high above the ground... High? Yes, HIGH, not from his useless wings, but rather from his bloon full o' butt-hash. For two days ago, he pist and shat (straight out his cornhole) in to a jar, rapt the lid with a bloon so that it might ferment... a quick whiff and he's ready to make some decisions.

The Corn Fairy smiles down on you. He reads off the number on your ticket and you go up and you collect your prize; maybe tickets to a WNBA game or perhaps a big plastic NASCAR clock. He floats above you in the ozone, and sees not (he has no vision) the incompetence and douchebaggery. No matter... he opens the second seal and announces the new org-chart. That'll make it all better.

What I Did This Summer

By Corey Webster

People were chanting my name... "COREY, COREY, COREY!!" and speeding down the hill, faster and faster... "COREY, COREY.." and the alarm goes off. I wake up. Ah man, today's the day! I've gotta get up, brush my teeth real fast, take the money mom left me and get to LA for.. THE LA MASSACRE!

So I'm on my way, out my window. I acid drop off the garage and then rail slide down to the beach. Skate between these hot roller skater chicks on the side walk and then jump in the back of an El Camino. Before long I'm at my friend Tyler's house. Radley, Bozo and Lil Stevie are there to show me the RV where I'm going to reside. Pretty cool, huh?

"So where's the ramp?", I ask. I've gotta train for the LA Massacre. We get back there and its almost completely done except we've gotta sand the riding surface some. After we spray paint our gang name "Ramp Locals!" and unlock the chain on it, it's finally done! We all run up it except for Bozo, cause he keeps slipping and falling back down the ramp. Finally we drag him up where we sit on the deck for a while, arguing over who should get to go first.

Radley can't believe I'm turning down first shot at a virgin ramp, but then when I get knocked in the head by a boom mike and nobody else will, I go ahead and put on my knee pads and drop in. I do a backside judo air, grind some and do a hand plant. Then Tyler and Radley take their turns. Suddenly, there's a crowd there, cheering and all. Tyler does some hand plants and Radly's doing backside layback grinds. The ramp is so gnarly. It's a monumental good thing.

Later, we go get some chicken at Popeye's. We see these hot girls, so Radley gets Bozo to try to impress them by getting into like a Surf-2 postion. Just as they pass the girls Radley pulls Bozo's pants down. Me, Tyler and Lil Stevie laugh hysterically.

So then we go head to Venice, but before that we have a run-in with The Dagger's. Man, I hate them! They are a bunch of punk-poseurs who hate us cause we're from the valley. They jump all over Bozo's VW Rabbit. Then their leader, Hook, does a power slide, then does a back flip off the side of a truck. Friggin' show-off... Man, I hate that guy!

Man, it was so hot in Bozo's car! He didn't get air conditioning cause his father talked him into buying this cheaper model. Then Radley gets this good idea, so we pull into some random body shop. Radley borrows their torch and cuts the roof off of it. The car's roof, not the body shop's... Bozo starts freaking out, saying his father's gonna kill him, but Radley tells him just to tell his dad he's got a cabri-o-let.. Hungarian for fast car! Then we painted the sucker!

Anyway, so we finally get to Venice. We jump the fense to skate and one of Bozo's wheels goes flying off. There's all these punks there doing acid drops off a ledge and skating a big ass quarter pipe. Tyler gets all nervous and wants to leave cause its the Dagger's place. "Daggers, huh?" So I go up and push one of the punks out of the way as I push towards the quarter-pipe. I go up and do a huge backside boneless stall up on the wall. They all glare at me. One of em says "beat you val-jerk", so I bomb-drop off the wall and skate away.

Venice is cool! There's all these hot girls, dudes with green hair break-dancing and then I see my friend Per free-stylin in front of a big crowd.. Then I see this hot girl watching, so I impress her by dropping Per's name, and go "Alright, Per!" She looks over and smiles, but then some punk-looking girl with black hair and tatoos drags her off. Man...

So then we go skate Hollywood Blvd. Its fun! We see all these people who get all pissed off when we almost run over them and their dogs and strollers. Then we get a guy on a bike to pull us by a chain. We all fall down some, but Bozo's always slamming. Man, he's such a bozo!

So that night we're all gonna go to the Thrash-Bash... except for Lil Stevie. Man, I can't figure out what to wear. The guys are out in the cabri-o-let laying into the horn. I try on some sun glasses, then a hat, then both before deciding I'm prolly ok just sticking with my red jacket. I get to the car, and after kicking Lil Stevie out, we head off to the show. Lil Stevie can't go cause he's too young. Radley tells him "this is where we separate the man from the boys". Stevie says he hopes we don't get laid. Lil punk!

Next time... what goes down at the Thrash-Bash? What future super-group will rock the show? Will Lil Stevie's wish come true? Man, I hope not! To be Continued...

Odd

Was called 'odd' yesterday. I'm not sure what to think of that but my instinct is to think that 'odd' can't be a good thing. Not even sure why I keep dwellin on it cept I like this girl. Got this stupid crush. I need to go ahead and get over it. What am I, 12-teen? Effin' shyness! I do not have the talent of conversing easily with people I don't yet know well. It's a curse that makes me act odd when all I'm trying to do is get to know somebody better. It's gotta be a pretty pathetic display of non-gamesmanship.

Oh well.. going home to see Ma Bell tomorrow. She don't think I'm odd.. Prolly cause she is herself.

Spaghetti Monster

"Basically...out of all the ridiculous religion stories—which are greatly, wonderfully ridiculous—the silliest one I've ever heard is, "Yeah...there's this big giant universe and it's expanding, it's all gonna collapse on itself and we're all just here just 'cause...just cause." That, to me, is the most ridiculous explanation ever."

-Trey Parker

I'm a big fan of South Park. One of my favorite episodes is when they cast Richard Dawkins as Ms. Garrison's new boyfriend.



"Pound me in my monkey-hole, Richard!" Science-damn! That's funny!

Lumbergh!

I'm having "Lumbergh fuct her" moment.

Malazy

I've felt pretty much like crap all day long. Not my self. Without or lacking most of my sense of humor. Souless. Then 5 o'clock came around and I left work and I went to ride my skateboard. Still, I didn't feel like my self; almost out of body. I felt old. Then I realized I was just hungry. I went to Burger King and fixed it. Now I feel dead and bloated. Smellin' like a rose on my birthday-deathbed. Gotta love STP.

More than ever, I'm wishing I was a dog. Not just cause they can lick their own balls. The thing about dogs, the dogs I like... cools dogs, is that they are not petty. There's no politics, no decorum, no bullshit. A dog sees another dog it wants to get to know better and it goes and sniffs her ass. Then she sniff his. They sniff each others ass for a while and before long they know everything they need to know about each other. You gotta love doggy-style!

For Poops & Giggles...

I-ight, so this dude didn't really help me learn to do the fakie-bigspin-back-disaster-360-out... aka the "tornado-spin", but he trips me out trying. Enjoy:



bnqt.com

Jamal's pretty much my new hero. Check him out:

- talkin' sh!t at Frost..
- another trick tip
- Eating cereal/surfing the net
- ain't nothing funny about this one..

Keep It Moving

From Mooresville Town Hall agenda for 3/3/08 meeting:

Consider awarding a contract to Kearey Builders of Statesville in the amount of $448,087.82 for the construction of the Mooresville Skatepark – Phase I. This contract is based on bids received February 14, 2008. A total of 14 bids were received and Keary Builders was the lowest responsive, responsible bidder.

I'm hoping more graphic info will be coming soon here. I'm also hoping "lowest responsive, responsible bidder" is not indicative of low quality... you get what you pay for.

Bouche Dag

Apparently I'm back to my covetous ways. She returns a friendly smile; invitingly; she passes the no-ring test... Just as I've just about almost gotten the sack up to almost talk to this girl at the Y, out of no where comes this prototypical douche out of the wings to piss on my would-be parade. This ass-clown boyfriend of hers walks up, grabs her ass, gives her a little pda in the middle of the gym and says to her "hey babe, who's this?"


@#$%^&*!!!

The Video

If you haven't seen the Looney-ass Tom Cruise video, it goes something like this:

Mission Impossible music plays in the background,
Announcer: “Tom Cruise on Tom Cruise, Scientologist”
Medallion logo thing swirls and makes a gate closing sound, a Snap-shot sound..

Tom Cruise, Scientologist: “I think it’s a privilege to call your self a Scientologist. It’s something that you have to earn, and because Scientologist does… he…. Or she… has the ability to… create new and better realities and improve conditions. Uh… Being Scientologist you look at someone and know absolutely that you can help them.”

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “So for me it really is ksw, it’s just like, it’s, it’s something that, uh… … … I don’t mince words with that… you know, with anything… that coloration, but that policy to me has really gone thhhhht, boy! A, ra, ra, ra I. There’s a time I said, ‘you know what?’ … … when I read it, I, you know, I just went ‘poooh! This is it! This is exactly it!’

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “Being a Scientologist… when you drive past an accident, it’s not like anyone else. . as you drive past, you know you have to do something about it, because… you know that you’re the only one that can really help! “

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “But that’s … that’s what drives me, is that I know that we have an opportunity… and, nuh… … to really.. telp, for the first time.. ef, effectively change people’s lives, and, uh… … I am dedicated that and I’m gonna, uh, duh, absolutely… uncompromisingly , fffff… dedicated to that.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “The orgs are there to help, ok, but… we as, you know? .. but we as also the public, we have a responsibility. It’s not just the orgs! It’s not just date and scavage! You know, it’s not just, not just me. It’s you… it’s everyone out there.. kinda , sa, re-reading ksw and looking at what needs to be done and saying ‘ok! ..am I gonna do it or am I not gonna do it?...” Period!!! And am I gonna look at that guy or am I too afraid because I have my own out-ethics… to put in someone else’s ethics.. and that’s all it comes down to.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “And I won’t hesitate to put ethics on someone else, you know? Cause I put it, ruthlessly in on myself… … And I think, that, Uh… … … … I respect that! … and, and others… … and uh you know I’m there to help.. and we’re here to help, and my opinion is, is that look, you’re you’re on board, or you’re not on board… ok? But just… if you’re on board, you’re on board just like the rest of us. Period.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “We are the authorities on getting people off drugs. We are the authorities on the mind. We are the authorities on improving conditions… Criminon.. we can rehabilitate criminals… way to happiness, we can bring peace… uhh… and unite cultures… uhh… … … that.. once you know these tools and you know that they work it’s.. it’s not good enough, that, that I’m just doing ok.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “Travelling the world and meeting the people that I’ve, that I’ve met.. you know? Talking with these leaders… in da various fields… … … … … They WANT help! …and they are depending on people… who.. know.. and who CAN be effective.. and do it! And that’s us! ..That is our responsibility to do that.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “It is the time now. Now is the time.. ok? …It is being a Scientologist, people are turning to you, so you BETTER KNOW IT! … You better know it! …and if you don’t... … … you know? Go and learn it. Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk, you know? ..But don’t pretend you know it.. and.. or.. for whatever, it’s like we’re here to help!

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “You know, if you’re Scientologist, you see life, but you see things… the way they are… … and all it’s glory, you know? All of its complexity. . Uhh.. and the more you know as a Scientologist, y-you don’t become overwhelmed by it.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: Looney laugh … and uh… … … and I know I mean I shouldn’t… they said “so like have you met an SP?” more, even loonier laughing… you know? And I thought what a beautiful thing, you know? Because maybe one day… it’ll be like that, you know I saying? Maybe one day it will “WOW!, SP’s., they’ll just read about those in the history books”, you know? more looney laughing..

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “hey you know, I just go through that tech and it’s, it’s literally, it’s not how to run from an SP, it’s PTSP, it’s how to shatter suppression, confront, shatter suppression. You apply it, it’s like boom.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “ Because they don’t… come up to me. They do that, uh.. they don’t do it to me… not to my face! You know? Or anywhere in my vicinity. Really feel they can be… … … confronted… it’s not doing.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “I wish the world was a better place… I like to go on vacation.. and go and.. romp and… play and just… do that, you know what I mean? … I mean… … that’s what I want it to be, ok…. That’s how, you know, there’s times I’d like to do that, but… … … but I can’t! …because… … … I know! … … I know! .. So… … I, I am, but you know, you just, you, you, I have to do something about it. It’s not … … You know you could sit here and wish it was different and then you look at it and you go “ok, this is it, I… “ K, and then there’s that moment when you go “looney laugh, again You know…. I have to do something, don’t I? Yeap, I really have to do it because I can’t live with my self if I don’t”… and that, that really is it.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “I don’t care if someone thinks it’s hard or easyoreasier, it’s either helping, contributing everything that you can, or… you’re not. Ok? Uh… because, I’m carrying my load, alright. And not only that, as much as I’m carrying, I still feel like I’ve gotta do more, alright? There is still a thing of… LET’S GO!

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “You can just see the look in there eyes! Yo u know the ones that are doing. You know? And you know the spectators who are the ones that are going…“well it’s easy for you” or “what am I doing” and it’s just… that thing is… uh, I’ve cancelled that in my.. area HEE, HEE, HEE GUFAW HER HER HER MY! . It’s like ‘Man, either you’re in or you’re out!’ That spectatorism, it’s something that.. that is.. we have no time for it now.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “So it is our responsibility to… educate… Create a new reality… you know we have that responsibility to say ‘hey… this is the way it should be done! …because we do it this way and people are actually better.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “And… let’s get it done… you know? Let’s really get it done and have enough love, compassion and TUFFNESS! That, that you’re gonna… do it! …Uhh.. and uhh… do it.. right!

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “I have to tell you something… I really, it, it is… water dropping sound out of no where… you know? It’s ruff and tumble! And it’s… wild and woolly and it’s a blast! …it’s a blast! …it really is… fffun… because, dammit, there is nothing better… than going out there and fighting the fight and suddenly you see POOOF! Things are better!

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “I wanna know, that I’ve done everything I could… uhh every day. And I think about those people out there, who… are depending on .. Us… … and, uh… I think about that… and it does make me feel, uh, like man, uh, gah, God, there’s… you know, we got more work, I need more help, you know? Get those spectators… you’re either in the playing field or out of the arena! You know? … Heh heh heh heh that’s how I really, that’s how I feel about it.

Snap-shot sound..

TC, S: “I do what I can… and I do it… the way I do everything. HA HA HA HA HA! HA HA HA! sigh There’s nothing partlyHA working HA for me-HEE-HEE-HA HA! It’s just karate chops + jet sound!! HA HA HA HAHA…

Announcer: “A Scientologist can be defined by a single question… ‘would you want others to achieve the knowledge you now have?’ In answering that question… TOM CRUISE has introduced “alo-reach” technology to over 1 BILLION people of Earth! And that’s only the first wave he’s unleashed! Which is why the story of “TOM CRUISE, SCIENTOLOGIST” has only just begun!

Or just watch it on gawker.com.

I Got Id

My lips are shaking my nails are bit off.
Been a month since I've heard myself talk.
All the advantage this life's got on me.
Picture a coffin in the middle of the sea.

And I fight back in my mind. Never lets me be right.
I got memories. I got shit so much it don't show.

Oh, I walked the line when you held me in that night.
I walked the line when you held my hand that night.

An empty shell seems so easy to crack.
Got all these questions. Don't know who I could even ask.
So I'll just lie alone and wait for the dream where I'm not ugly and you're looking at me.

And I stay in bed. Oh, little ive seen there.
If just once I could feel loved, oh, Stare back at me . Yeah.

But I walked the line when you held me in that night.
Oh, I walked the line when you held my hand that night.
Oh, I walked the line when you held me close that night.
I paid the price. Never held you in real life.
My lips are shaking...

-Pearl Jam

Long December

I used to love this Counting Crows song. But the more I've really listened to the lyrics the more I have no clue what they are supposed to mean (the smell of hospitals in winter..?). But I like the general idea that there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.

This has been a long, crappy year. I've made some stupid mistakes that I would give anything to be able to un-do. I think I've ruined a friendship - I can honestly say that that loss has hurt more than broken bones I've had from the years before.

So I'm trying to keep it together thru the rest of this month; the rest of this lousy year. I want to start the new year fresh and just leave this one behind. Hopefully I've learned something and I pray that the lesson isn't going to cost as much as I think it has.

God, help me!

If you know me and I'm a bit ornery/out of sorts (even more than usual) for the next little while, please forgive me and cut me some slack.

Thanks,
-Billy

M'Ville

u. Consider awarding a design contract to Grindline Skateparks of Seattle, Washington in the amount of $38,700 for the design of the skatepark. (pages 53-59)

from Mooresville Townhall Agenda for 12/03/2007

Pages 53-59 of what.. I have no idea. A bowl in "Race City USA" oughta feature black and white checkered tile beneath the coping.

Smell No Evil

Lucky for me my smeller ain't working today. Evidently there was some sort of restroom mishap early this morning at the office. One described the odor as that of a syncronized, five-toddler pooping spree... or spray. The green sort. I couldn't smell a thing. Even so, I didn't risk venturing into that lavatory, opting instead for the furthest restrooms on the other side of the building. It gave my sanity walk-about some added credibility.

About once or twice a week, when I can't take anymore of the cube life, I go on a sanity walk. I zone out and walk the mazes of the buildings attached together as one, making up my office building. This building is built of brick and irony - an office of a home improvement retailer in such disrepair. It's a mozaic of crumblingness as I am a mozaic of scars.

My favorite scar is the one on my left hip. It was born in june of 1989 when I sliced my hip open on a stop sign which covered a hole in my best friend's mini-ramp. Front-side lipslide to Mr. Wilson... hip slid down the transition across the stop sign, slicing my ass open like some ham at the deli counter at Harris Teeter. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Today, that scar has a mop-n-glow shine that you can see your reflection in.

Anyway, I walk the halls in much the same way I walk my street at night with the dog; praying. "Dear God, please help me not to be such a friggin' idiot. I am stupid and need your guidance..." Other ideas shared between me and the deity are along the lines of: "please make her like me", "please forgive me for what I did today that I'm probably going to do again tomorrow" and "please help me not to hate so many people..."

Of course, I'm joking, mostly. Mostly I'm praying for strenthened faith and for the health of whoever's arse exploded in the bathroom this morning. And I thank God that I couldn't smell it.

It finally rained today. I walked in it and enjoyed it. The last time I was really happy it was pouring down raining. Can't help but hope that there's some metaphor here that might mean maybe a long drought is coming to an end. Prolly not. I read too much into everything. Anyway, it felt good. It's been about a 1000 degrees for a couple months now. Then, finally, a good solid rain shower. Relief. I sat in my car-port with my dog right at the edge, finished off a book and listened to the rain. It friggin ruled.

Consequently, I can't skate now; not outdoors, anyway. S'ok, I skated enough yesterday. Enough to wear a hole in the side of my foot. At a new indoor park in Hickory. It's pretty nice. The mini ramp would be perfect if it wasn't so slickery... masonite, man... There is a reason why you can buy ten sheets of masonite for the price of one sheet of skatelite. Skatelite has spoiled me forever. When I build my mini, It'll be surfaced in Skatelite.

It's almost friggin Monday again. Some butthole in Indiana won my jackpot, so I won't be singing any Johnny Paycheck tomorrow like I'd hoped. Maybe nextime... keep hope alive!

Frontal

f/s lipslide - photo by Nate Jordan

Frustration

frus·tra·tion
Pronunciation: (")fr&s-'trA-sh&n

Function: noun

1 : the act of frustrating
2 a : the state or an instance of being frustrated b : a deep chronic sense or state of insecurity and dissatisfaction arising from unresolved problems or unfulfilled needs
3 : something that frustrates

Week In Review

And so ends another week in Hell. This is my least favorite time of year. I'm annually disappointed with the lack of progress in my career and then... forget the Ides of March, I've gotta beware the beginning that keeps fuggin' up my program:

3/3/05 - Hit a patch of black ice, flipped and totaled my truck.
3/4/06 - Snapped a femur bowl riding in Charlotte...
3/5/07 - I should stay at home!

But that was way back then and this is 'sposed to be about this past week. Well, damn... It wasn't all bad, but mostly.

My manager paid for my lunch at my favorite restaurant in Booger Hallar**, then gave me a sh!t-review... not really a bad one but certainly not a good one and definately not one that will result in a good raise or title change.

**Aerial view of Booger Hallar from Jeff's blog; See Jeff's blog, and leave him a comment congratulating him on his escape.

Saw and talked briefly to this hot-ass new contractor that works somewhere near my cube... but she's got a ring on her finger... and then she caught me googling at her ass.

My dip-shit, suck-ass, piece-o-shit director (my bosses' boss) gave me some "resources" to help me with my workload... one of them is on vacation for three more weeks in India, another one can't get into the country because of problems obtaining her VISA, and the other two are each 50% on 4 other projects. Thanks Dick-weed!

Worst of all, I haven't gotten to even think about standing on my skateboard!

But things are looking up... got my state and federal tax refunds today; Borat comes out on dvd Tuesday and the new season of South Park starts Wednesday. Just need a dry, warm, windless day to get my board under my feet. Just not on 3/5.

Certified Piece

I think it was Thrasher magazine that coined the phrase "certified piece of suck". I went to Lenoir this afternoon and experienced one these pieces of crap. I will not complain about my local McPark ever, ever, ever again*. You're thinking "ooh, I should go check out that park in Lenoir!!!" Save your gas. I assume the town meant well... maybe not.

*until at least after tomorrow.

Time

The Porky Pig Dream

I have this dream every once in awhile that I call the Porky Pig dream. I'm out in public somewhere; at work, at KFC, at the mall ... wearing only a shirt. The shirt is just shy of completely covering the twig and berries, but does offer them some shade. I'm always thinking "damn, I need to get some droors on!". People just stare at me and all I can do is look back and say "A-bit-n-nah-bit-n-nah-bit-nah... That's all, folks!"

C'ment N M'ville?

LKN Times

Peanut-butter and Kelly

Oooh... they're mixing two of my favorite things!

=========================================================

I've been dreaming about tornados a lot lately.

Resolution

I'm not big on new year's resolutions, personally. I'm all for making decisions to improve one's life, and if picking one particular day out of the year as a starting point makes your sub sink, then I'm all for it. My own view of New Year's resolutions is much like my view on my own birthday... pretty arbitrary to me. I don't enjoy celebrating a reminder that I'm inching closer to my demise. I'd just as soon like to celebrate the anniversary of a horrific accident. "Woo-ha! Another year without a broken bone!" I celebrate my first surgery day on March 4th!!!

But anyhoo, I did resolve to accomplish some simple goals this year and here they are along with my progress, where applicable:

Relearn and wire fakie tail-stall backside reverts... I had some pretty instant gratification on this one. This used to be my go-to maneuver... F.T.S.B.S.R, Backside pivot to tail reverts, fakie backside 360 pivot reverts were my bread and butter until one day I just couldn't do it... Like Maverick trying to fly after Goose died, it was just no good... I'd lost the edge. But last Friday I got them back and I couldn't believe how easy they were (as I knew all along)... until Saturday, when I lost them again. If you're over 30 and you ride a skateboard, you know what this is like.

So I'm off to a decent start on this one, anyway. I've succeeded in relearning and have 11 1/2 more months to get em wired.

To not think about my salvation through winning the lottery quite so much. In the last 2-3 years, hardly a waking hour has gone by when I'm not thinking about my escape from officeSpace[infinity] via Power Ball or Mega Millions. It consumes me. I've studied anomalies in number patterns and concentrated for minutes at a time on how to unlock the mysteries of forecasting random numbers ... to no avail.

No more. I will cut my thoughts of the lottery down by 33% and each utterance of the 'L' word will result in a $1 deposit into a glass jar. When the jar becomes full, I will use it's innards to pay for my Wednesday-Saturday habit.

Less talking to myself. I don't think the neighbors are buying that I'm talking to the dog, even if I do use his name. ..

"We're going to win the lottery tonight, Yogi! And then we'll be free and we'll go take a dump in some desk drawers, won't we?!?! Yes we will! That's a good dog! We're gonna shit in some day planners, aren't we puppy?!?!?! Yeeeessss!!!!"

Yeah, something's gotta be done about that.

Care less about stuff I can't control. "To let that which does not matter truly slide." I can't stop SOX, I can't keep my company from outsourcing me and I can't make Dave Chappelle start on season 4. So Eff-it!

To finish things I start. Sometimes, right in the middle of something, I get distra

10 Things

... that I'm sick of:

1) hearing about Donald vs. Rosie
Really, is this something anyone really cares about? Why is this on the news? Why does anyone give a shit about either of these two ass-clowns?

2) Celebreality
In particular, VH1's 'Fame Games'... to determine which has-been is the most famousest. Why are network executives always thinking up news ways to keep Vanilla Ice from getting a real job?

3) Skateparks turned into daycare/playgrounds
Before you take little lil' Timmy to the skate park, maybe it would be a good idea to make sure he has the motor skills of a retarded baby howler monkey. Maybe in the safety of your own driveway he can learn the finer points of falling down then getting out of the way.

4) MTV
Exactly what does the 'M' stand for again? I miss the time when I was just annoyed with it because Kurt Loder was always sucking on Madonna's balls. Kurt Cobain thought he was one of the worst reporters ever and hated him... I agree on both counts.

5) Inspirational high school student/teacher/principal movies
How many times are they going to remake Blackboard Jungle?

6) Erection Commercials
Wouldn't it be fun to reserect (no pun intended) somebody who died in the 1950s and stick em in front of a 52" plasma to hear "...if you have an erection that lasts more than four hours..."? Or watch people riding horses while they talk about their herpes outbreaks?

7) Bowl games
"The Kellogg's Cereal Bowl is brought to you by Kellogg's... pitting 5/11 Iowa State at Maiseville Corn Shuckers against #32nd ranked Boston Teabaggers."

8) Barry Bonds
Somehow a lot of performance enhancement finds it's way into his bloodstream without his knowing of it and it's never, ever, ever his fault.

9) The End Of The World shows on the History Channel...
Huh? Maybe there should be a little 'F' in the bottom corner of the screen when they talk about the asteroid or comet or tsunami or whatever's gonna do us all in.

10) Sarbanes Oxley Act of 2002
Was passed to protect shareholders from being ripped off by dishonest company officers in the wake of the Enron and MCI Worldcom scandals. Well it's almost five years later and all the making-IT-people's-life-a-living-hell in the world didn't stop Bob Nardelli from ripping off the share holders of a Fortune 15 company by over $300M. Let's not forget all the lawyers and consulting firms making out like bandits off this piece of shit-legislation.

disillusioned

- the condition or fact of being disenchanted.

I still believe capitalism is the best economic system, but I'm a bit disenchanted. Awake, due to some current events...

Let's call him Bob and keep the math simple. Bob's job is to run XYZ in such a manner that the people who fund XYZ get a return on their investments. For this Bob is paid $20 million per year. After six years at the job, it becomes apparent that Bob has failed miserably and so he agrees to leave, so long as he can take another $200 million along with his pink slip. Meanwhile, XYZ's investors have lost money.

So, Bob made $120 Million for his six years of disservice and is then paid for another 10 years worth of work just go away.

What the bloody-Hell? So while the value of an XYZ share went from one dollar to $.60, Bob banked $320 Million.

Again, capitalism is the way, so long as it is tempered by common sense... and maybe shame. Seriously... what kind of douche can look himself in the mirror after such a robbery? And what kind of ass-clowns does it take to believe the guy 'running the show' is worth $9,615 an hour?

Senseless.

wXw Skatepark Grand Opening

Skated Waxhaw, Cackalacka's new park today. The park is fun. It's concrete, has a 24' wide, 4' mini-ramp connected to another 8500 sqft of concrete moguls. Tons of lines and tons of speed... unfortunately, like all grandopenings, tons of deer-in-headlights, in-the-way little kids and a few near misses. Hopefully I can get down there again soon when there's a little less traffic.

There was a Dowdizzle sighting! Fo' shizzle.

Anyhizzle, I wish Booger Hallar had somebody like Tom Riser here. Dude's my new hero. I hope someday I can design and build a concrete moonscape in my town. Way to give back!

officeDaze[2]

Brad Neutron (your (not my) director): Working late? Hard at work? Working hard? Doin' the stuff to keep it keeping on?

You: What??

B.N.: Did you go to that meeting that was a waste of your time to decide how much un-paid overtime it's going to take you to give the user the stuff they don't need that's way out of your scope?

You: Go way, Brad, can't you see I'm trying to get some work done despite your every effort to thwart me?

B.N.: Well, you know? Everyone's working hard, hard at work, working on the work that needs to be done to keep things working; thinking inside and outside the box about pardigm shits...

You: Shits?

B.N.: ...shits and grins, keep on keeping on, words, nouns, verbs and adjectives...

You: Geez...

officeDaze[1]

From: Effingham, Dick
To: DL-IT-DEPT666-TotalClosedNoose; DL-IT-DEPT666-CV-TotalClosedNoose
Cc: Thomas, Jimmy; Rock, Rick; Kilometre, Jacques
Subject: enter key lockdown

All,

Please be advised, as with the left mouse button, effective immediately you must now obtain director approval before pressing the enter key. In the coming days, members of the Compliance Committee Terror Squad will be coming around to remove all Enter keys and replacing them with the compliant Entre key. When pressed, the Entre key will send an IM message to your supervisor to request permission to complete the action.

Anyone caught using the Enter keys without signed director approval will be suspended pending a full investigation.

Let's keep gettin' R Done and tappin' dat ass!

Dick Effingham
Vice President
IT Torture & Harassment

Fear & Loathing In Booger Hallar

Maybe loathing is the wrong word... but I realized this morning, finally, that I do now fear the bowl at Grayson Skatepark in Charlotte. I've been back twice since my little incident last spring. I skated the bowl, but not without shivering to the bone every time I headed into the deep end. Before, I was going to Charlotte almost every chance I got, never crossing my mind that I could get hurt. Now sometimes, out of nowhere, I get flashbacks and can't shake them; and imagine how it could've been worse.

Yesterday I arrived at the McPark; crowded. Two fellow older dudes were just about leaving. "Careful, in there man; it's a snakefest...". Sure enough, minutes later, I had to bail at full speed to avoid annihilating a little kid who'd aimlessly rolled right out in front of me. The only thing I fear more than getting wrecked (badly injured) myself, is wrecking (injuring) some little kid, but luckily I was able to avoid her without footing the bill in flesh and bone. I left.

So I'd been thinking since then until this morning that it was time to get back to the bowl, but now I just don't have the appetite for it, especially since the price went up from a dollar to seven (or $10 maybe?) for out-of-towners. I'll go back sometime soon... but damn!

===============================================

The correct usage for loathe would be better applied to my job. I truly, honest to God, HATE my job! I don't remember the last time anyone in the "leadership team", from director up to CIO, has made a sane decision. All guidelines, edicts, and commandments from up on high have been knee-jerk reactions lacking any rationality, forethought or even common sense. I'm waiting for them to require a director's signature before each press of the enter-key. Tasks that should take me less than a minute sometimes take over an hour now. The only thing that keeps me in this job are my friends at work and the fear of starting over somewhere else.

Why I hate skateboarding

Because 4 or 5 kids with brand new boards, wheels, trucks, etc... wearing the brand new skate shoe du jour, brand new sk8 T's will stand around and clown a kid with a crappy board, with early 80's wheels and crappy bearings... but the kid is at least trying. He's not standing around talking smack. While the others are making fun of him, he's skating.

Now, why I love skateboarding:
So I asked the kid if I could try his board and handed him mine. You'd think it was Christmas morning. "Can I ride YOUR board?!?!?!" "Sure", I said as I dropped in.

His board wouldn't hardly roll, but I managed to do a front-rock and a nose stall revert with it. I went over the spine with it a couple times and ended my experiment with a little sub-coping backside nollie. The main thing is, and I hope his mom saw, was that the kid was so stoked to be on a board that would roll.

It's the ones that the common herd make fun of that become down for life.

Looks So Easy

...don't it?

The Easter Bunny

hates you!

===============================================

& I Hate My Job

I haven't said it in a while, but I really, really, really HATE my job with a seething passion that I can never fully describe in a way that would do it any justice. The gianormous ridonkulousness of it all is out of hand.

officeDaze[0]

Test Case ID	Test Case	Expected Results	Actual Results
3	Press an invalid function key.	A message says "Invalid key pressed."	As Expected
4	Enter a letter other than "S" in the selection field and press enter.	A message says "Please enter an 'S' to select."	As Expected
5	Press the Esc key.	The screen exits to the main menu.	As Expected

Rob: "Vencat... Got a minute? Instead of 'As expected' in the Actual Results column, I'm going to need you to type in exactly what the results were..."

Vencat: "But the results were exactly as expected."

Rob: "I know but Brad will not sign the form if he cannot tell that the test was actually completed... we're going to need you to key in what actually happened."

Vencat: "No, actually, what actually happened was the same thing as what was expected... actually."

Rob: "Well we need you to type that."

Vencat: "I did, actually..."

Rob: "No, actually type in the actual result."

Vencat: "... ok."

Vencat highlights the expected results and pastes them over the "As Expected"s; saves the file and resends the file to Rob for approval... again.

Test Case ID	Test Case	Expected Results	Actual Results
3	Press an invalid function key.	A message says "Invalid key pressed."	A message says "Invalid key pressed."
4	Enter a letter other than "S" in the selection field and press enter.	A message says "Please enter an 'S' to select."	A message says "Please enter an 'S' to select."
5	Press the Esc key.	The screen exits to the main menu.	The screen exits to the main menu.

=============================

Rob: "Vencat... Gotta minute?"

Vencat: "No actually, I lost many minutes more than one minute last time you asked me that query..."

Rob: "It's about your test plan, Vencat... it looks like you just copied the Expected Results column and just pasted it into the Actual Results column."

Vencat: "Yes?"

Rob: "... well we need you to type in exactly what happened in the Actual Results column."

Vencat: "I typed in 'As Expected'... this is as occurred... you did not approve..."

Rob: "You want to do this right, right?"

Vencat: "Right?"

Rob: "Alright! Thanks, Vencat." walks back to his office.

Vencat: "No, actually..."

=============================

Test Case ID	Test Case	Expected Results	Actual Results
3	Press an invalid function key.	A message says "Invalid key pressed."	As Expected, A message says "Invalid key pressed."
4	Enter a letter other than "S" in the selection field and press enter.	A message says "Please enter an 'S' to select."	As Expected, A message says "Please enter an 'S' to select."
5	Press the Esc key.	The screen exits to the main menu.	As Expected, the screen exits to the main menu.

Coming soon to officeDaze:

• "Opportunity Sessions with Brad" or what Brad wants to talk to you about


• "Signatures, Signatures... Signatures" or forging ahead.


• "Dave, Software Release Nazi" or MAAAAA! NO, SEE! MAAAAA!.


• "The Turnover meeting" or Monday Morning Yawn-Fest.


• "Overseas Expansion" or Aboot less L's and more U's, eh?... and


• "Coding Tips From Above" or Leesin to me... thees iis whajou going to do...

One Tough Pussy

Clawless Cat Chases Off Bear - from Fox News. I like my headline better.

=============================================

I missed my doctor's appointment today because I got lost in Charlotte. The Carolinas Medical center and Presbyterian Hospital can't possibly be more than a mile or two apart... but you can't get to one from the other. Anyway, I finally got there 45 minutes late and had to reschedule... so I went to Grayson.

The bowl was scary for me, I admit. The water seepage problem didn't help my confidense much but I perservered. I skated a couple hours and then decided to call it quits while I could still leave under my own power. Then I skated the McPark and had the best time skating in a while.

Almost did a crailslide. Almost did front layback tailslides; a la Hosoi. Got my lipslides on lock; frontside rocks on lock; almost 5-O-fakied. I skated until I was soaked and had worn a hole in my pushing-foot big toe... until it was too dark to see. Saw some big stuff (for the McPark) go down - HUGE ollie shuvit tailgrab over the box; HUGE kickflip over the box; back smith back reverts (not to fakie, reverts)... and a front flip off the mini-ramp platform.

Why Portland Rules

From Thrasher - Gonz, Drehobl, Childress, Busenitz... others. That buttery concrete under the bridge is the reason.

Cheezy Stuff and The History Channel

It's like peanut butter and jelly. I can't get enough conspiracy theory -- and what better snack for watching the DaVinci Code Channel than cheese. Any cheese, I don't give a damn! It doesn't matter to me, but the old stand-by is still Beef Taco Hot Pockets! Easy-Mac is another new and easy flavor to savour while I watch GW, the wife and daughter point at a triangle on a map and worship Virgo. If history is any indicator of the future, before long it will be nothing but list shows for the center square where the has-beens and never-weres crack about how they loved 1776. This is, of course, what happened to VH1.

I don't know if I just turned 26 (a few years ago, I mean) or finally gave up on "Music" TV or both happened at the same time, but I started watching VH1 - it had.... MUSIC and documentaries about music - about The Doors, The Mamas & The Papas, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix and Woodstock (History) and stuff that mattered, like Nirvana and... and then they ruined it all with a bunch ass-sucking list shows. They started out ok.. top 100 Songs; ok, good; top 100 Albums; still with you; top 100 Outragious Moments starts going down the slippery slope fast and before you know it, you're watching "I LOVE 1986 - Commercials II - Hosted by Peter Brady"... WTF?!?!

MTV... "Moronic" TV? See "My Sweet Sixteen" and you'll know why fanatical extremists want to fly planes into our buildings. They probably play that and "Yo Mama" 24-7 at those training camps in Afghanistan. They probably dream of taking out a whole sky scraper full of brats named Marissa and their daddies that give them two new cars before they've even passed the test to get their friggin driver's liscense. This is our chief export and I don't blame our trading partners for hating us.

================================================

I've been skating maybe a little more than my orthopedic surgeon would like. I can't help it. I'm pretty much hopelessly addicted to skateboarding. I've been getting somewhat back to form. I'm doing all my grinds, getting back front tailslides, and gutting out some front-rocks. Lipslides are scary because I find my self needing to run out of them too often. This is not a good thing when you can't run. I have found that my style has changed... for good or bad, I'm not sure yet... but my shadow looks cool laying on the ground when I'm about to roll away from a frontside 5-0. Backside 5-0s and/or salad grinds feel better; like I'm locked in; like I imagine a good backside Smith grind would feel. But I'm riding with a fear I've never remembered having before. That I'm not indestructable. I'm 2 and 1/2 months out of my surgery and I still have flashbacks of hearing that loud snap and of my leg pointing the wrong way at about mid-thigh. At the same time, I'm walking perfectly normal and have a hard time remembering how incredibly hard those first 2 or three steps were using a walker. Puke and agony with my bare ass flapping out the back of a hospital gown. I don't wanna go through that shit again. So I skate with a ghost in a one on one jam format. He's too close to the deck and I have to bail... an axle stall. He looses his board and I have to take evasive action. I hear "BOARD IN!" and there's nothing there. It's (turn your volume down!!!) fuct up when your minds playing tricks on you.

Speaking of jams, watch the Protec Combi Bowl Jam from Thrasher.

I-D-Ten-T

A new way to exfoliate that dry skin on your paws is to:

1) Acquire a murky, cheesy-water filled sink.
2) Uh-oh... It's clogged. Get some heavy-duty professional strength Liquid Plumber!
3) Pour 1/5 of bottle into the clogged sink... Nothing?
4) Let is sit for 30 minutes, like the instructions told you to.
5) Don't end a sentence with a preposition.
6) Still nothing? Pour half the bottle in... And wait another half an hour.
7) Nothing? Maybe the sink stopper is functioning properly; reach down into the foaming chemicals and pull it out.
8) Success! No clogged drain and you've burnt a couple layers of skin off!

A Larry David Moment

I feel like I just uttered the c-word at a poker game.

S'been A While

I haven't updated this thing in a while. I'm recovering after suffering from a broken femur due to freak skateboarding 'mishap'. I was hauling ass through the bowl at Grayson when I heard "BOARD!!!". Someone's board got away from them and into the bowl. It was in my path and I had no time to react (correctly)... I bailed; jumped off and jammed my right leg straight into the tranny of the 10 1/2. My leg snapped into and... I still shutter when I think about it. To make a long story short, I was in the hospital for four days, out of work at my parents house for four weeks. I have a rod bolted into my femur that will assure that I'm searched at the airport for the rest of my life. The good news is, I'm walking again... it ain't pretty, but it's walking. I'm supposed to recover fully within 3-4 more weeks and I can't wait to roll again. Rise with the Fallen!

Can't Spare A Square

Geez...

Word Of The Day

lack-ri-ty, n - an uncheerful lack of willingness. "He answered the pager with lackrity."

Smell Saddam's Finger!

Crammed up his ass by night, by day Saddam's finger becomes a chemical weapon.


Go on... "smell it!"

The best part is the looks on his co-defendants faces... They've smelt that finger before. AP photos.

B & E

Ohhhh shux.....

Ok. So coming back from lunch today, I got pretty stoked when I noticed the North Booger Haller public pool was being drained. I said something along the lines of "that thing's gonna get skated tonight!" And then back to work I went and forgot all about it until driving back by on the way home.

I got my W2 today, so I started trying to do my taxes, but I was missing a couple stock purchase confirmations I'd need to fill out the capital gains schedule D form. I looked everywhere, 'to no avail'. "Maybe they're at the office."

So as I'm about to walk out the door, I remember the pool and grab my board. It's about 10pm as I'm heading from Booger Haller to North Booger Haller to see about those tax papers. I get to the cross roads where, there in the darkness, an empty pool sits waiting to be ridden. I make my decision and turn right.

This pool is right next to the North Booger Haller McPark. I park in front of the 'Park Closes At Dark' sign, get out and head around to the back of the pool house. Sure 'nuff, she's empty... unfortunately, it goes from what looks like a 3' shallow end to maybe a 5' deep end and it is completely square and useless to me. What a let down!

Just as I'm about to walk away, the place suddenly sounds like there's incoming scud missles in Jerusalem. "What the?!?!?" I trot back to the truck and just as I back out I see a cop car slam into a u-turn. He bee-lines to me at high speed, lights and siren blazing and blaring. In a second they're out with guns and flashlights drawn and I'm about to shit my pants.

I got my hands up off the top of the steering wheel, cause I ain't down for getting shot over this. He demands the window down and ID. I comply. The flash light is burning my retina, but at least he's put his gun away. The other cop's around back looking at my plates. "Kill the motor! What were you doing back there?!?"

I told him I was just looking at the pool.

"JUST LOOKING AT THE POOL?!?!?!"

"Yeah, I wanted to skate it... I saw it being emptied today... and..."

"WHERE'D YOU GO?"

I point "right back there..." The other cop shines his light in my back window; "Well, he does have a skateboard..."

"Did you jump the fence?" Three more cop cars pull up surrounding.

"No sir, when I saw it was square and no good for me I was leaving when the alarm went off".

They go huddle up to figure out what to do. "Says he was just going to skate the pool..." the first cop mutters. I can't help but laugh at myself now in this fusterCluck of a situation and one of the cops that just arrived seems to notice. This is the guy that gives cops a bad name. The one with a chip on both shoulders. He's staring me down now. "Haven't I had to talk to you before?"

"No sir."

"Yeah I have, I've had trouble with you before."

"No sir."

"I didn't catch you jumping the fence to the skatepark last week?"

"No." I drop the sir, now. This dude doesn't deserve respect. He's an asshole with a Napolean complex. Small man. Big mouth.

"Well I've seen you before. I've had to talk to you before... Have I pulled you over?"

"No, but I had a wreck last year, maybe it was then." He glares, says he doesn't think so and is sure that he's had trouble from me before. The first cop comes back, while two of the others go to finally shutoff the alarm.

"You know I can take you in for breaking and entering based on your statement?"

"Yes, sir... I'm sorry, man. I had no idea this would be such a big deal... my bad..."

He flashes his light in my back window again and notices my laptop bag this time. "You work at XXXXXX?" - "Yes, sir." - "I thought I recognized that bag, my wife has one; works in IT". - "That's where I work..." I know I'm going to get away now, when the asshole-cop pokes his snout back in. Now he remembers... He's sure now that he's kicked me out of "West Park" and confiscated my board...

"No. I've never seen you in my life... and..." Cooler cop steps back in, while the pig stares me down some more - he'd cuff me and slam me around on the hood of his car if it were up to him. Cool cop tells me he's going to let me go, "cause this would look bad on you at XXXXXX"... but he bans me from the park - the skatepark, the pool, the picnic area, the basketball courts... Pig's pissed he didn't get to billy-club me and assures me that he better not have any reason to ever see me again in North Booger Haller. Says he'd "a booked" me.

They get in their cars and leave. I leave.

The End

Guilty Pleasures

As I've found out, the internet is not anonymous, but nevertheless I'm going to man-up and admit some guilty pleasures right about now. Of course, if anyone brings any of the following up to me in person, I will flatly deny any and all of it and claim that somebody obviously must have hact my blog. That said:

1) Milli Vanilli. Especially Girl You Know It's True... I know.

2) You Give Love A Bad Name... reminds me of 1988... or 7. Reminds me of Wednesday nights making out for 2 hours straight on the church bus then going home with blue-ball. Them wuz the days.

3) Watching anything with Misty Mundae in it. With classics like Lord Of The G-String and Playmate Of The Apes... Sad, sad.

4) Collecting decks that I won't ever skate. I used to swear I'd never do that. "What good is a board you're not going skate?" I used to think. Some time after 30, though, you get the urge to surround your self with crap that reminds you of the time way back when you thought 30 was OLD. I.E. I just ordered a Stereo Chris Miller deck that's going to collect dust on my wall. It's supposed to be signed and numbered (1 of 300). Chris Miller, a legend, is still one of my favorite skaters. His Schmitt Stix Dog was one of the first skateboards I ever had (following Gator and Cab).

5) Admit it... you know the words to Ice, Ice, Baby. Werd to you mammy!

6) Blogging. Frankly, I think writing a blog is a sad undertaking, but it's free and therapy is not.

7) Watching dumbass list shows on VH1... you know, the ones with all the has-beens and never-weres commenting on I Love The 80s and Most Heavy Metal Moments. I hate to admit it, but I could sit there eating Beef Taco Hotpockets and watch that crap all day long.

8) Early grabs... when no one's looking, I'll grab a rail while still rolling up the transition and yank one over the coping on a 3' mini ramp! Then I look around to make sure no one saw my shame.

9) Watching MTV. I @#$%^& HATE MTV but somehow I can't help watching those Real World/Road Rules "kids" (they're all pushing 40) act like they are 12 years old.

10) Listening to Hank Williams, not "ain't you ready fer sum footbawl?", I'd never admit that. III neither, I'm talking about Sr. I make sure I'm covering the screen of my iPod when them sad, sappy sh!ts is on.

... Yeah

When my alarm clock went off at 5am this morning, last night's idea didn't seem so great anymore, so I reset my clock for another 10 minutes to see how it played then... couldn't get back to sleep. So I got up, pact a gang of Gatorade, put the dog out back with food and water, got my board, a throw-away camera I bought last night, some Mapquest directions and headed out into the fog.

The sun started coming up between Gastonia and Gaffney. "What am I doing?" Effit. I wanted to go see my old hood and check out the Skate Park Of Athens and this would be my last chance for a while. The weather was turning out to be perfect and I was man on a mission.


man on a mission

For once Mapquest's directions were pretty good and didn't send me looping thru a scenic route. Straight to SPOA at almost the exact estimated travel time. How'd they know I'd get lost in the dark and fog on Business 321 before I got out of Norf Cack - then go 90 mph the rest of the way? I got there at about 9:30.

SPOA is friggin' sweet and I'm now a true believer and fan of Grindline. There's infinite lines and just a lot of stuff packed into a pretty small area. The coping is steel, cement and bullnose brick and it all grinds nice. Tight trannies everywhere especially in the snake run that culminates in a 4' vert bowl - tight like gnat booty. There's bigger vert bowls and some oververt. Some mellow bumps flow either into the over-vert capsule thing and snake run or into the combi bowl. The combi has a vert round wall with brick bullnose, surrounded by some 6-7' ungulations then down into what I'd guess is a 10' - 12' square bowl. Smooth. I skated it for about an hour with some ATLiens before heading on to ATLboro.


Goooooooooooo!

Atlanta's just plain run out of room. Buildings are just getting stact on top of each other now. In my old hood, what used to by my yard had four shiny and fake stone-faced condo's freshly planted. My old house was still there, but unrecognizable; it's been heavily remodeled with vinyl and columns. So had the rest of the houses in the hood. They've all had a sorta of clone face lift that... just doesn't look right. Sad. You can't go home again. But you can still go to Olympic Flame so I got my cheese burgers and skarft.

By 1:30 I was heading back to SPOA. I got there at about 3, but it was then crowded with litte kids with their little kid blinders on. I got maybe two uninterupted runs out of about ten attempts before I had had enough. The place is sick, though and I'd die to have a Grindline park planted in Booger Haller (- perhaps where the unused and useless BMX track sits? Or under the bridge at the trailhead of the greenway?) 5 Stars!

I got back at about 8pm - exhausted with the urge to travel subdued.

300 Miles For Cheeseburgers?

Got the urge to get some Olympic Flame cheeseburgers. Can't tell how much I really miss that place. It's still there, I'm not. Me and my friends used to skate a little bump out side of the "Fun Factory" warehouse, just down the street from our neighborhood. We would do berts, early grab, boneless and revert the bump, then dig in the dumpster for stuff the Fun Factory threw out; switch-blade combs, hand-buzzers, whoopie cushions, rubber chickens... the kinda crap you buy at Spencers. Then we hit up Olympic Flame, run by an old Greek guy named George. Food was awesome and we'd get a kick out of his daughter at the register's high pitched screetch CHEESEBURGER! The milk shakes ruled.

Well I Never

I've never been so happy to be puking in my life. I'm not sure what hit me still, but soon after lunch and soon after partaking of some 'exotic candy', I was unable to function. As I hunted and pecked on the key board staring dead at the each letter as I would try to type, a different letter would result on the screen. Words swirled and there was a six inch round black spot blotting my vision just to northeast of my nose. I could not look at my monitor as a whole, but had to focus in on small groupings of words. Buttons moved around on the screen and the mouse pointer had a mind of its own. Every thing seemed to echo like a copy of a copy of a copy. I felt like I my vision was through paper towel rollers. Then came the head ache. A migrane, I guess. I remember feeling this bad when I had my first concussion, but there's been no head trauma today that I can recall... It had to be the 'exotic candy'. My vision started to improve as my head hurt worse and it was getting unbearable, so I went home early. I went straight to the tile temple, to the porcelain throne, knelt down and let it all go. It was glorius! I hurled chili and dark chocolate Hershey Kisses and, I think most importantly, that one bite of 'exotic candy'. My head was still banging. I took some liquid crack (Nyquil) and I slept. And slept. And then some.

O-Girl' s At It Again

She's selling Lexus's (Lexi?) now. Not on overstock.com, but I heard that one can buy a Crossfire on there, now... if one were so inclined. I'm amused by these commercials where $50,000 cars show up under the Christmas Tree with a big red bow, but the one I really hate is the Seiko commercial where I'm told that it's my "...watch that tells most about who..." I am. Really? Where's Esther at? Shouldn't she be singing her song? I've been well-trained to know that I love and need material possessions... I know I must have a 42" HD plasma flat-screen post-haste and I know that every kiss begins with Kay, but damn! I mean, a phuken watch defines me? Who am I if I don't have a watch? It must have blue tooth, play mp3's and order me a pizza. No, I can't imagine that commercial moving one more extra unit of tickTock. It wouldn't surprise me if it helped someone to decide against purchasing one. "And I had boner to buy one, too! Till I saw that stupid-ass commercial." I'll wait for the O-girl to hawk 'em.

Hot For Teacher

Oh, Ms. Lafave... where were teachers like you when I was 14? No, I had Mrs. Gottleib... her voice was like Aunt Patti's and she closely resembled Jabba the Hut.

Criminal Master Minds?

Neither of these guys is any Lex Luthor...


I mean, look at 'em... they don't look smart enough to get themselves out of a wet, perforated, paper bag! What kind of retarded ass-clowns are guarding these facilities?

============================================

Oohhh!

Goofy Wins!

From skateboarding.com

Donkey Kong Is Deep.

Does this game remind you of your job?
Is there a 600lb gorilla throwing obstacles in the way of getting the job done?
Are you Mario?
Or the girl?
Does she know what she wants?
Is the gorilla the one you're trying to help?
What consulting firm does he work for?
Or is he a member of management?
Shouldn't he be throwing rolls of red tape?
Why is the bonus box empty?
What's up with the broken ladders?
Do they represent your career path?
Or you shop's methodolgy?
Do you just need access?
Or a document signed?
Once you get to the top, won't the gorilla just run off with the girl and change his requirements?
Why does he get two nice, big ladders and you get a bunch little broken ones?
Does he expect you to run up those ladders seven days a week?
Is the girl your life, your free-time or happiness?

Or maybe Donkey Kong is just a habitual cock-blocker...

Wisht I'd Went

Shircle Shity Showdown II picture from eastcoastsurf.com by netPoser (sans permission)

Louisville!

- Open 24/7/365
- Free
- Only helmet required

I was once invited to interview for an IT job at Papa John's... Dang!

======================================================

Being sick sucks. I don't recommend it. My head feels like a hurricaine and yet I have a hard time thinking of much more right now than how I wish I were skating a bowl or how I wish I could be building my own bowl.

More Of The O

I love goooold!

It's All About The BOWL

I love that horny looking chick on the overstock.com commercial. She looks all hot and bothered and ready to go at it with some over-stocked "toys" just as soon as someone yells "Cut!" ... But that's not what I wanna talk about right now.

Last night I had conceded to myself that skating the new park in Charlotte this weekend was just not meant to be. The rain was pouring and weather.com said it would be today too. But then I woke up this morning with the sun pimp-slapping me across my face. I was stoked; checked weather.com again, still said it was going to be raining in the Queen City. I looked out side again... How?

An hour later I hit the pouring down rain on I-77. "If it's still raining by the time I get to Statesville, I'll turn around".

... Pouring even heavier in Statesville! @#$%!!! Well it was a clear blue sky 40 miles back, maybe the same can be hypothesized about 40 miles ahead.

Inside Charlotte city limits it was just barely drizzling. The park had puddles, but there was hope; squeegies, brooms and a leaf blower were out. Then a dude comes out and stuffs it all back in the storage closet and leaves. I leave.

By then, it wasn't raining at all. Just as I get back on 77, the sun pops out. I was mad. Mad at God and the weather channel and anybody who said "we sure do need this rain."! Not today, we don't. But something told be to turn around.

Back at the park, the dude is back and he's squeegying, sweeping and blowing. I went to Home Depot to kill some time. A half hour later, the park is open. It still had a puddle or two, but it wasn't crowded yet.

So I got some me-time with the bowl. I LOVE THE BOWL. It's ALL ABOUT THE BOWL! I figured out some good lines, got some tile and figured out (somewhat) how to carve front-side. Then this hottie showed up. She was gonna skate! THE BOWL. This is my kinda woman (sans pregnancy - the jump). She looked to be in her mid 20s and she was with a bunch of dudes, but I couldn't tell if she was with any of them. I'm sure she was. She was charging the bowl.

So I've gotta show off now and drop in on the deep bowl. Just when my showing off is in fool (yeah, I know) swing, my quads start spazzing out and somebody a ton better than me shows up. Hopefully I'll get to skate with her again next time. God bless the skate-ladies.

Anyhow. It turned out to be a great day. Gotta give a shout to God; Good lookin' out, G! It turned out to be great weather, a hot skater-chick and I ain't hurt.

In The Land of China...

...they're trying to get some people all hurt and shit... DAMN!

No Lifeguard On Duty

Neil Heddings clip from Thrasher Magazine.

Chatham County Showdown

May have to make a surprise visit to Frank and Estelle the weekend of October 22... the 2nd Annual Chatham County Showdown is going down that weekend; time to get all-hurt-and-shit.

I'm going to get all hurt and shit this Saturday when the new cement park in Charlotte FINALLY opens (the "Extreme Grand Opening"), hopefully. Hopefully it will actually really open this time. Hopefully it won't be too crowded. I can't imagine the bowl actually being very crowded... From what I hear, the deep end has claimed quite a few broken bones already... gonna need some better swellbow pads.

These trips will actually be possible since it turns out I did not burn up my transmission like I thought I had. A burnt coil. $435 ain't nearly as bad as the worst I had prepared myself for, a new tranny or a rebuilt engine.

United Skates of Emerica

Watch

Ack!

====================================================

It Wasn't Me.

"It sounds weird, but I've had a lot of injuries in my life, and every time I get an injury and I'm down it makes me realize how much I like to ride my skateboard. I honestly think that those injuries have pushed me, because that down time has made me realize that I really do have nothing but skateboarding, you know? That feeling that I get from riding my skateboard, that's all I want out of my life. I'll skate as long as my body holds up... I'm thirty-one now, man. I'm old as shit and hurt as fuck, but I still love to slam on my skateboard."

-Omar Hassan from Oct 05' theSkateboardMAG

...could never have said it better, myself.

====================================================

One of my favorite things is to get a new setup in the mail, slap the Black Magic onto the deck, file the edges off clean, pop the bearings in the wheels, the wheels on the trucks, trucks on the deck and go to the park and break it in. There's no better feeling under my feet than a new setup, before the wax gets in the grip tape, before the pressure cracks, before the grooves wear off the wheels, when everything is tight except the trucks. Got them as loose as they'll and as loose as I've ever had them. It's a nice quiet whirl, snap->pop->slide->rock of a front lipslide on a virgin blank that was pristine a second ago, but now you are rolling away from the yellow paint you left on the coping. Same with the nose and the tail and it will never be that way again until the next setup comes in the mail.

Truth in Advertising

Sometimes I go to match.com and do searches with the express intent of looking for girls that I already know; that I went to high school or college with. I finally found one. To be clear, I'm not making fun of her. There was a time when I had a huge crush on her in college and she wouldn't give me the time of day. A year later, she had a huge crush on me, and I wouldn't give her the time of day because I was after another girl who farted and pretended like it didn't happen while we played Scrabble in her dorm room... that's another story. I digress. Anyway, I'm not making fun of her; she's smart, hot, funny and makes a ton of money... I'm making fun of my self here; I'm dumb, getting uglier by the day, losing my sense of humor and have a dead-end job that I hate.

Anyhow, I wanted to send her a "wink", so I clicked on the "free" wink button, and damn if they don't want you fill out a friggin' profile. I think they actually expect me to pay money??? FUCK! Honesty or Truth in advertising???

Short, ugly balding dude seeking hot-ass sugar-mama

I am a: 30 year old man boy
Located in: Booger Haller, NC
Looking for: 23-33 year old girl who's as fuct up as I am
within 50 miles of Booger Haller, NC

Relationships: Committed once, but modern medication does wonders.
My Ethnicity: Cracka-ass Cracka!
Body Type: athletic
Height: 5'8" when I got my big-boy boots on.
Sense of Humor: I have my good days.
Sign: Slow kid at play

About me and who I'd like to date: I'm a head case who can be pretty ornery a lot of the time. I'm antisocial and generally avoid commitments and responsibilities. I'm looking for a girl that can over look my flaws and doesn't mind me droning on endlessly about skateboarding or the episode of South Park I saw last night. I like small tits and a big ass (like Kelly Clarkson). Nose rings, belly button rings and porno-tats (aka tramp stamps) give me wood.

Appearance:
Height: 5'7"
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brown (and (mostly) grey (what's left of it (I wear a lot of hats (I should shave my head))))
Body type: Athletic
Body art: I got a lot of scars
Best feature: One of my ear lobes is attached and the other one isn't

Interests:
for fun: I like to lift weights, play racquetball, skateboard, hike, watch NASCAR, and making fun of democrats.

Favorite Hot-spots: In Booger Haller???

Last Read: Thrasher Magazine, The Godfather, How To Talk To A Liberal (If you must)

Sense of humor: I have my good days.

Sports and Exercise: Lifting weights, racquetball, skateboarding

Common Interests: Movies/videos, Exercise, hiking, camping, sports, being a goofy dork

Life style:
Exercise habits: Regularly
Daily diet: Cows, chickens, potatoes and tomatoes
Smoke: Hell no!
Drinker: Nope, I'm a straight-edge bore
Job: I HATE it!
Income: S'ok
My place: Live alone with pets
Have kids: None that I know of
Want kids: Yeah, but not in Michael Jackson way.
How many: > 1. It's fuct up being an only child.
Pets: I have a dog and a cat

Background/Values:
Ethnicity: Some of my best friends are black.
Faith: You gotta have it. I'm non-denominational Christian
Education: After five years I managed to squeak out a BSBA from Appalachian State University.
Languages: I speak 'Merican.
Politics: Conservative

About my date:
Hair: I like the carpet to match the curtains, unless there's no carpet, or maybe just an area rug
Eyes: Two of them that point the same general direction... I'm partial to blue, green or hazel.
Height: <= 5'8"
Body type: About average/Athletic
Language: 'Merican. Southern accents give me wood; not required
Ethnicity: Cracka-ass Cracka
Faith: Christian... at least a follower of the Golden Rule
Education: Smart chicks give me wood.
Job: Sugar-mama; I'm ready and willing to be a stay at home dad and I'll take your last name if it sounds cooler than mine. Does that make me a feminist? No strap-ons, though!
Income: Same as above.
Smoke: Hell no!
Drink: Purple!
Relationships: Just me.
Have kids: Just ours.
Want kids: Yeah.
Turn ons: Intelligence, southern accents, assertiveness, goofyness, glasses(?), nose rings, belly button rings, candles and thunderstorms and shit like that.
Turn offs: Hairy pits and isms.
Perfect Date: We do some sloppy cold-sore swapping after an evening of laughing our asses off at a Dave Chapelle concert.


There's my honest profile. I should quit being a pussy and just give Abby a call.

Your Mandatory Support Is Greatly Encouraged.

... this is the verbiage of a sign in China posted before Danny Way's jump of the Great Wall of China:

A Work Stoppage Has Been Authorized For July 9, 2005

Danny Way, friend of the Chinese people, will perform a feat of great courage and adventure by jumping our great wall... on a skateboard. Your mandatory support of this historic event is greatly encouraged.

*All workers will be expected into work 2 hours early on July 9, 2005

-Minister of Extreme Sports
-Director / Ju Yu Yong Gate

More of The Gonz

Video Days

DLXSF

Fleezers

Had a rant about lines at the gas pump, but these rides don't need no petro.

Damn...

I hate my job.

Tell you all what's what.

Tony!

* Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro *

I'm too old to be knocking on your door, asking if I can skate your ramp... INVITE ME OVER! Been trying to get Frank and Estelle to buy the house next door. I hear it's reduced.

* Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro * skate * Pittsboro *

Another Shot of "Testing"

backside air

======================================================

Ramble

Well obviously Madonna didn't read my blog or The Charlotte Observer yesterday. What was she thinking? Had she studied the safety tips carefully she may have avoided breaking several bones while after riding her material horse at her material country home outside the material world of London. For example, when losing her balance, she should have crouched on the horse. She should have tried to roll instead of falling with her arms. She should not have landed hands first, but rather on her hot 47 year old slutty ass rear or side. I'm sure that she's known for a very long time to relax when she goes down. Sean Penn probably taught her that. I'm wondering if she even bothered to do a safety check of all moving parts. Strike a pose!

I skated for all of 15 minutes this evening. Sometimes that's all you need. It was cool out because of the storm that was just to the south... a pretty kick-ass storm somewhere between Booger Hallar and Lenoir or Taylorsville. It put on one hell of a light show. Then you look 90 degrees to the right towards Boone and see the sun setting over the Blue Ridge Mountains. Anyhow, I just cruised the park by myself. Been trying to manual roll-in for ever now and just can't seem to hold the wheelie all the way in. Did a lot of pivot-fakies and back cab pivots... and lip slides.

Got the new Chapelle DVD "For What It's Worth" from Wally-world. Newest of my most prized posessions, including Chapelle's "Killing Them Softly", Eddy Murphy "Raw", Pryor's "Live On Sunset Strip" and "Live In Concert", Chris Rock's "Bring The Pain", "Bigger And Blacker" and "Never Scared" and Bill Cosby's "Bill Cosby Himself".
Eddy Murphy's "Delirious" needs to be released cause I gots to have it.

Ever get a canker sore? I have the canker sore from Hell. It's just on the inside on the right (my right) bottom lip. NO, IT'S NOT HERPES! Like 70% of Americans (seems like I've read that statistic somewhere, but maybe I made it up), I get those too. But this is a canker sore and it hurts like a moFo... No, strike that! It hurts like a mother fucker! I think I'd rather lose a toe in a horrific lawn mower accident or get sacked board-sliding a 20 stair, sliding split-twinned across the hand rail's rusty, jagged, skate-proofed kink than go through much more of this. I ain't kidding, I just might be willing to part with a pinky finger if it would make this thing go away. I can't eat, drink or talk and I catch myself drooling all over. It's messed up... TMI, huh?

Caught!

I found this at work today.

Amazing what you find on a shared network. A few days ago I was attacked by the poparazzi. I covered my face and said "No, No pictures!" They stood and waited, but finally gave up and moved on to another unsuspecting cube dweller. Disarmed and at ease again, I thought they were gone so I went back to my toil... when I heard foot steps; FLASH->CLICK "NO!!!!"

So I spent a sizable portion of today hunting for this poached picture of me. I haven't found it yet, but when I do, they will get their comeuppance. There's going to be a reckoning.

TEN GAMES ELEVEN...

...I mean X Games XI; the important parts (Skateboard vert, street and big-air, obviously), at least, aired over the past III days on ESPN* and ABC. It was pretty decent coverage, much better than OLN's coverage of the Gra51ty Ga1000es, which sucked ass. Tony Hawk, Chris Miller and Sal Masekela do a great job by simply having a clue... heck, "The Birdman" and Miller could have possibly been on the podium had they been competitors. P.L.G won vert. I've ragged on him in a previous blog entry for being boring, but I take it back. Shaun White killed it for 2nd and Sandro Dias took 3rd. COMMAND RUNS BY ALL! Burnquist was great too (won best trick with the front side "Gnar-jar"!!!). What struck me about the Gold, Silver and Bronze runs, that I loved to see, was that among the spinning and flippy tech stuff, all three did one or all of the following:

1) front side tailslide
2) front side lipslide
3) front side slide n roll

I think almost every entrant did a front tail or lip slide. Old, old, old... CLASSIC maneuvers; not "tricks".

Danny Way, of course, won the event he invented, the Big Air. P-Rod (the comedian's kid) won men's street. Elissa Steamer won women's street and Cara-Beth Burnside (37 years old) won Women's vert.

*ESPN - WTF?

Have you seen the professional eating competitions??? Maybe I dreamed it but I think I've also seen spelling bees and scrabble tournaments. What the ...?

MOOSE!

Cool Cat. Cool site. Cool sights.

The picture keeps moving later in sequence, so no cat? ... click next a time or two...

==============================================

Welcome Back KOTR - Revisited.

This is some good stuff... It's the 2005 Thrasher Magazine King Of The Road "Beast Creeps East" goal list. The best stuff is at the bottom, like:

* Piggy-back kickflip
* Make-out with somebody working at a fast food restaurant
* The Burt Reynolds Challenge...

But WTF is a "Dog-pisser"? It's air done with the back foot removed like this one done by Chuck Powell on NegativeIon.com.

Welcome Back KOTR!

Thrasher's King Of The Road 2005 kicks off soon from Portland, San Francisco, LA and San Diego. The rendevous spot this year is THE skatepark in Louisville, KY on August 15... Thinking about going. Last year's KOTR issue of Thrasher was probably the most entertaining ever. Here's a look at the DVD's trailer:

KOTR 2004

Skatepark Update

Grayson Park as of Saturday, July 30


Street course


Another view of the street course.

N'August 1 Pas

Possible correction to below; heard Oct 1, but now hearing that that was wrong. Two weeks from today... at the latest, Sept 1.

Apparently the good people of the CharMeckRecDept have decided it's going to be another two months before the new skatepark opens. The riding surface has been done that long, since May. I went to see for my self this morning. New additions since the last time I was there are an 8' fense, sides walks, a staircase and some landscaping. There look to be about 10-15 park benches laying around waiting to be installed and several large aluminum structures around the park that I can only guess are going to serve as canapies to go over bleachers. Some of the landscaping includes landscaping block that is dangerously close to (flush with) the two opposing banks on either side of the pyramid/funbox thing-a-majig. No sign of any new/extra parking. CharMeckRecDept also plans to pimp the park out to the highest bidders with various ranges of sponsor signages sizes and prices from $2,400 to $30,000. So what's the point of the bleachers outside the park if you can't see what's going on inside because of a bunch of billboards?

History... That's big.

Yeah.

======================================================

I have half a J-Lo ass (That's big!), now. Ow! Storms make you do stupid things because, usually in late July, in Booger Hallar, it's hot; it's... the night was hot.. uh, moist... the night was sultry. But today was unseasonable cool. I've become somewhat of a storm chaser, or rendevous-er (pronounced "ron-day-vewer"), waiting for the sweet spot, twenty minutes before a storm rolls in. My grandma would say "it's coming up a cloud". Well that's good skating weather, Me-maw! Another good time to skate is at dusk. When it's dusk on an unseaonably cool evening in July and it's coming up a cloud... that's a good time to skate. So I did. I rolled across the pyramid, over the hip, 5-0ed the mini and SCREETCH, BAM!, BOUNCE, Bounce, bounce... I bounced three times on my right ass cheek. The screetch was my wheels loosing traction on the concrete flat bottom; the bam was my board shooting out and slamming into the side of the ramp and the bounce, I've already splained. I also hit my right palm and swelbow. I just layed there for a few moments, unable to feel my legs at first. I got up slowly, struggling to walk at first. One of the Mexican dudes asked me if I was alright. "I think so." I walked it off. Then I pushed around a little. Before long, the pain was gone and I was hauling ass again as the storm moved in. I always skate better just after a good slam... and this was a good one. Did some front rocks (not one footed, my friend), tailsides, tailslide reverts, lipslides, alley-oop 50-50 fakies, alley-oop hurricaines until the lightning starts streaking across the sky. Everyone was gone by then. Just me and the funnel clouds.

I'm home now and the pain is setting back in. It's going to be hard to walk tomorrow. I'm certain that my ass will be blue and yellow by morning. I'm afraid to fart. I may need to borrow the donut my mom used to sit on when broke her coccyx after slipping on a sweet-gumball.

Vote For El Vortex!

Watch! Vote!

Trailer Park Nights, The Movie - Trailer

Tonya - with Jonathan in the backa his Iroc-Z "Ah luv u, baby!"

Jonathan - "Ain't nuthin' gonna come tween you an me! Not never!They kiss.


Head lights and loud on-coming noises, CRASH!!


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: IN A WORLD WHERE HOMES CAN BE TOWED AWAY, AND PARKED SOMEWHERE ELSE, THEIR LOVE WOULDN'T BUDGE...

Sheriff car lights swirl, illuminating the trailers in blue and white strobes... Officer Swain's voice over: "Looks like we got a fugitive..."

Officer Bacon: "DANG!"

Swirling helicoptor shot over the battered Iroc-Z...


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: ...UNTIL A KILLER CAME ALONG...

Consective shots of Tanya, Stephanie, Marcus and Blue each fade to black.

Marcus, hands cuffed behind his back, is slammed into the side of his F-150 by Officer Swain: "Yer goin' down fer what you done you sorry summa bitch!"

Marcus: "I ain't done nuthin'"

Officer Swain slams Marcus to the ground and starts kicking - fade to black...


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: ...WHO WOULDN'T STOP...

Aerosmith ballad plays in the background; Tanya smiles down at Jonathan: "Dang, Tonya, I thought you was dead!" Tanya giggles; scene fades to black with the sound of duct tape tearing...


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: ...UNTIL VENGEANCE WAS THEIRS.

Stephanie: "Jimmie, you git backear by nine... ye hear???"

Lil Jimmie speeds off in his go-cart, his dog Blue chases behind...

Stephanie's mom: "You shootna never let him have that thang, Stef-knee..."

Lil' Jimmie speeds off into the woods... Stephanie's mom's voiceover: That thang's gonna gittem kilt!"


Go-cart lays flipped over in the woods, wheels rolling slowly: "MA!! Oh, it' huurrts!!!"


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: THIS SUMMER... FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS...

Tim and Jonathan fist-fight as Nadine and Tonya look-on...

Tonya: "Kick iz ass, JonThan!"

Nadine: "Shet up, you stupid-ass BITCH!" scene fades to black...


Deep-voiced Trailer-narrator-guy: in TRAILER PARK NIGHTS

THIS FILM HAS NOT YET BEEN RATED.

The Costanza's

Early morning, George's dream of doubling up on Kelly Clarkson and that $40 a day chick on the Food Channel dissipate as he hears the yelling coming from the hallway...

Frank: ESTELLE! DID YOU PACK MY RAZOR???

Estelle: WHAT?

Frank: I CAN'T FIND MY RAZOR! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SHAVE IF I CAN'T FIND MY RAZOR?!?!?

Estelle: WHAT?

George uses a pillow per ear to block the noise pollution so that he can get back to Kelly and Rachael Ray... elder Constanzas get louder...

Frank: MY RAZOR!

Estelle: THEY'RE IN THE OVER-NIGHT BAG.

Frank: WHAT?

Estelle: THE OVER-NIGHT BAG!!!

Frank: I DON'T SEE NO RAZORS!

Estelle: WELL THEY'RE IN THERE!

Frank: WHAT?

George: From his bed: She said "they're in the overnight bag!

Estelle: WHAT?

Frank: WHAT?

George: SHE SAID THE RAZORS ARE IN THE OVER NIGHT BAG! Rolls over, presses pillows even harder.

Frank: THERE'S NO RAZORS IN HERE!

Estelle grabs the bag, reaches in and pulls out a pink Lady Schick...

Estelle: WELL WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS?

Frank: I can't use that razor. Does Georgie have any razors? Georgie!

Estelle: Georgie!

George: WHAT?

George's mother busts in thru the bedroom door...

Estelle: Georgie, do you have any razors your father can use?

George: WHAT?

Estelle: RAZ...

George: ... I'm kidding. Second shelf in my bathroom. They're in a little bag.

Estelle goes into George's bathroom and starts rifling thru the cabinet...

*CRASH*, *CLANG*, *ROLL*, *SPILL*... like on Batman.

George: Ma... on the second shelf in a bag.

Estelle: I don't see them Georgie!

George: They're Gillettes! They're in a bag!

A tighty-whitie clad Frank strolls in, towel draped over his shoulder...

Frank: Georgie! I've gotta use your showa... the one in there doesn't work.

George: WHAT?

Frank: The showa-head won't turn on, Georgie... I can't take baths, Georgie! I've gotta have a showa!

Estelle: FRANK!

Frank: WHAT, WOMAN?

Estelle: I FOUND A RAZOR!

George: SERENITY NOW!!!

Freaky

This is eFfed up right here!

Thriller

There is some good-ass skating going on in the Cacklackas as evidenced by this trailer for Thrills from post22.com.

Cold Turkey

I'm feenin'. Suffering from the effects (or is it affects?) of withdrawal. Not by choice. Between rain, work and tragic B.S., I have not managed to set a goofy foot on bolts and push in over a week. Four deep in a funeral procession last Sunday, I drove painfully slowly by a back yard mini ramp session**; in full swing. Yesterday, as I headed out to the McPark, the first of too many drops fell. The outlook for the weekend is looking bleak. I have two crumby 2 1/2' tall, 8'wide quarter pipes in my garage; they may have to make due. I ain't paying $10 to skate 915. I need a bigger yard, a Bobcat, a gunite machine, concrete, rebar and some know-how.


Videos links from Solstik.com.


**My God! Where was this mini-ramp when I lived in that piece of crap town??? a hip, bowled corners, tombstones and pool coping; covered in skatelite! ... somebody needs to invite me over. There's a house for sale next door that I've been trying to talk my parents into, at least, looking at; reduced!


Twenty five days...

Here's Your Sign

I'm not really a fan of Bill Engvall's "Here's your sign" bit, but something hit funny during a Blue Collar Comedy Tour commercial break. My dad held out his empty glass towards my mom who was busy reading. She looked up and asked him if he wanted more Coke. He said "No, I'm just doing calisthenics! Here's your sign..." Without missing a beat, she flipped him the bird and said "there's your sign!"


NO, no, no!!! Never happened! I don't even remember what my mom asked him when he said "here's your sign", but she never, in a million years, flipped the bird to my dad or anybody else... But I started laughing uncontrollably at the thought of what could've been. I let them in on the joke and we all had a much needed laugh.



....................../´¯/)
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.................../..../
............./´¯/'...'/´¯¯`·¸
........../'/.../..../......./¨¯\
........('(...´...´.... ¯~/'...')
.........\.................'...../
..........''...\.......... _.·´
............\..............(
..............\.............\...

Death In The Family

One of my uncles has ended his own life. It happened last night. I don't know how or why. I will go home to attend the visitation tomorrow night and the burial service on Sunday. What do you say to your Granny, your cousins and his ex-wife when their son/father/ex-husband has committed suicide? As a nephew, I am expected to act as a pallbearer; I think cremation would have been the better choice.

As an avid reader might know, if they caught "Sob Story" before I clicked it off to draft-purgatory, I do not answer my phone. So when it rang very late on a Friday night, I let it ring until the answering machine picked up; expecting a hang-up or a wrong number... or someone I didn't want to talk to. But it was my dad; "PICK UP THE PHONE!" I did.

I knew something was wrong and I was scared it was about my mom or granny. He told me my uncle was dead.

"What???"
"He killed himself."

He sounded (understandably) more angry than saddened. I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I don't know what the bond is like and I really can only guess what it is like to lose one. I guess I am lucky to be able to say that I've never had a friend kill their self; but if one did, I suspect I would be pretty pissed off that they couldn't talk to me or somebody about their problems.

I should start picking up my phone when it rings.

FUCK, SHIT, PISS!!!!

Golly-Gee-Whilickers! I think I saw Tourettes Guy playing racquetball at the Y tonight. Remember... It's s'posed to be fun. I saw my would-be girl in the weight-room, smiled, said "Hi" and nothing more... FUCK, SHIT, PISS!!! I think I saw her tongue kiss another girl from behind a window... or maybe eyes seeing things; I have been up since four this morning.

I'm stoked that I got to skate yesterday. The weather's been pretty unruly lately, today included. I had reverted to an older deck because I shattered the nose of the one I was riding on the corner of a McLedge. Woodward/Huna Designs should look into installing some board-saving padding into the sharp corners of their equipment. Anyhow, it turned out to be a blessing. The older deck (exact same shape) for some reason has a better feel to it. Could be the wood grain, who knows?

So about three years ago a good friend of mine was pregnant and s'periencing morning sickness; all hours of the day, daily. I was home for Christmas and the subject came up some how or another. My mom replied "with you?" to her only begotten son when he asked her if she had had morning sickness when she was pregnant... Eh?

Some twenty years earlier, this same loving son got out of bed, concerned with the well-being of his dear mother. He walked the short walk down the hall and he came to a door... and he looked inside... "Mom?... are you all right?" he called out into the dark room of moaning, grunting and squeaking... SHE'S FINE, BOY!... shut the door and go back to bed!", my dad shouted. Git R Done! They gave me a book a couple days later. Pussies!

My Mom and Dad shout like the Costanzas (Frank and Estelle) which, unfortunately, makes me "George". Here's my theory. They've got a lot of cats in the house; like seven or eight... which means they've got a lot of cat dander floating around. So they got an air purifier that hums 24/7/365; all day, and day. So the tv is up loud too. With the humming and whirring and the tv maxed out, they hardly hear a word each other say. They sound like Lil' John... "WHAT?" "Can you get me a glass of milk?" "What?", "Milk!", "WHAT??", "MILK!!"... "OK!" So they have become conditioned to it, saying "what" like they are saying "10-4".

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Sob Story

I don't really have any funny stories or social commentary today. Nothing about skateboarding, skateparks, scrapes or scars. I'm numb. I felt like I sleep-walked though the day at work. It started out exciting enough... the little red light was lit up.

Most of you who spend your days in a 8x5 cubicle probably also have a Meridian phone; the one with the triangular light and all the buttons you've never learned how to use. We just know that the light tells us that we've got one or more messages. It makes me nervous when I see it lit up.

At home, I don't answer the phone. I let the machine pick up. Like a lot of people, I use it to screen calls. If it's someone I want to talk to I'll pick up. If it's a telemarketer... DELETE. Star sixty nine when they don't leave a message and then it's usually a mad scramble to anywho.com to use the reverse lookup.

However, at work, I almost compulsively answer the phone on the first ring... "This is Billy?", and it's usually a 1/2 alarm fire or somebody wanting to recount last night's episode of South Park or Chapelle's Show; Low on the "oh-shit-o-meter". I've found that the biggest fubars or situations I'd just rather not deal with have always been left for me to listen to on my voice mail.

Isn't it funny how you call it "voice mail" at work and answering machine at home? ...No?

Anyhow, so I came back to work this morning after a day off. Yesterday I observed the anniversary of my birth by sleeping late, mowing the yard, getting an oil change and buying a Lynyrd Skynyrd album at Wal*mart. Of course the red triangle was lit up. DANG!

A familiar voice. A sound for sore ears. She still has that cool, hot-ass southern accent. So why did it make me cringe?

Truth be told, I blew it. I met her my freshman year of college in the main lobby of our dorm. We all should've been studying but we were playing spades. Well, I was. She and her friend were watching us. I remember thinking she was cute, but I thought she was drunk for some reason and that turned me off, being the straight-edge bore that I still am. She wasn't (drunk). Days later she asked me if I wanted to go somewhere with her and her friends, I don't remember where, but I said I had "errands to run" and she laughed at me.

We got to be good friends, spending most of our free time and sometimes more expensive time together. Movies, skiing, sledding, camping, hiking, walking, talking, listening, laughing, studying, whatever. I used to draw these crazy Cats in The Hats for her, except with different hats; chef hat, football helmet, viking horns... you get the picture. We spent many early mornings walking around campus just talking about whatever. She was like Jenny and I was the retarded guy. We wuz like pees and carrots... Nothing made me happier than making her laugh. She had this kinda fuct up laugh that was a cross between an asmatic fit and an orgasm. It was awesome!

She wanted to date. I didn't. I was in lust with a girl that lived on her floor who wasn't giving me the time of day. Soon I was annoyed to find that she had started dating one of my friends, but it didn't last long. Then some other dude started hanging around her; she wouldn't give him the time of day... until on one of those early morning walks I told her she should give him a chance. They're married now.

I didn't think they'd ever last. Not in a million years. Sometime during the next three years I realized I had fuct up, big-time. They were lasting. But when there was trouble in paradise, I got to hear about it. It gave me hope, but the trouble always blew over. (Queue Purple Rain here...)

We all graduated and her boyfriend went off a thousand miles away to grad school. We hung out when we could but things weren't right anymore. There were subjects we couldn't... I couldn't talk about. When she talked about her boyfriend, I'd clam up. Visibly annoyed. Not a good poker face. She noticed and over time it pissed her off. She called me on it and we kinda had it out. It was some One Life To Live-type drama that spilled over from a visit to the phone, to email and then we didn't talk for months, hell maybe over a year, until 9/11 happened.

She called and we apologised. Talked for hours. And this went on for a few months until she told me she was getting married. I held it togther, telling her I'd be at the wedding that I knew good and well there was no way in hell I was going to go to. I think I cried like a two-year-old after we hung up. The invite came and I think I still have it somewhere unopened. She called a few times right before and a couple times after, but I haven't talked to her since. This is what got me letting my answering machine take my calls.

What an asshole, right? I know. Guilt and regret can be a mo-fo. I hadn't heard from her in about three years until today on my voice mail...

Boo-Effing-Hoo.

The Gonz

Watch!

"I hit my head and nothing's been the since the same."

I'm also pretty sure I saw Estel Costanza in there, too.
========================================================

AAAHHHHHH!!!! How do you translate a primordial scream of frustration into words on a blog? I'm blowing it! I feel like one of the Pharcyde dudes in the Passin' Me By song:

Now there she goes again, the dopest Ethiopian
And now the world around me be gets movin in slow motion
when-ever she happens to walk by - why does the apple of my eye
overlook and disregard my feelings no matter how much I try?
Wait, no, i did not really pursue my little princess with persistance;
And I was so low-key that she was unaware of my existance
From a distance I desired, secretly admired her;
Wired her a letter to get her, and it went:
My dear, my dear, my dear, you do not know me but I know you very well
Now let me tell you about the feelings I have for you
When I try, or make some sort of attempt, I symp
Damn I wish I wasn't such a wimp!
'Cause then I would let you know that I love you so
And if I was your man then I would be true
The only lying I would do is in the bed with you
Then I signed sincerely the one who loves you dearly, PS love me tender
The letter came back three days later: Return to Sender
Damn!

Maybe she'll be back tomorrow.

========================================================

Looks like the torrential downpours may pause long enough for me to skate this evening. Hopefully the breeze will blow towards the chicken crap covered fields.

Shicken Chit & Shtuff

Ohhh yeah! It's that time of year here in Booger Haller, North Cackalacka when we thank the good Lord for the evening thunder showers that will hopefully knock the chicken crap out of the air. I wait. My left foot is on the tail. Right hand holds the nose. Left holds the metal rail. Lightning is all around. The humidity rises as does the freshly sprayed liquid poultry poo from the nearby corn fields. It's oppressive. 89 degrees. 99% humidity and you can see the rain pouring less than a mile away in all directions. It's my turn. I drop in; manual the box; 50-50 fakie the 1/4; 1/2 cab pivot the copingly challenged, shitty spine, back pivot tail and back down and across. Push, push; f/s 5-0, building up speed, pumping over the pyramid hip up over another 1/4 to the so-called mini-ramp's (two 20' wide 1/4s facing each other) platform and roll in to b/s alley-oop 50-50, down and up over the hip to 50-50 xfer and back down the quarter. The sweat is in my eyes now, down my cheek and into my mouth; Why does my sweat taste like chicken brothe? Nevermind. My run is done when I bail out on a back blunt disaster that doesn't go right. I think about a head band made out of fem-nap mat'l... why not? Picture me rolling with three maxi-pads strapped to my head on a heavy flow day... Maybe not. I need to find a retired toothe-brush to give my grip-tape a good scrubbing. It is stained with the salt of dried sweat drippings, masonite dust and airbourne Tyson-2. I'm not smokin' nuthin'; there just ain't much on tv.

What's going on? A friend of mine, the inspiration behind Rolling Kristy, brought a NINE POUND, TWO OUNCE baby boy into the world a week ago. Congrats Painter-peeps!

It's been a good week at work, so far. One of my bosses is on vacation. His boss is too. Another one's leaving to babysit. I've got a beeper that doesn't go off and I'm getting stuff done. And it's a pay-week.

"Apparently", accoording to ThrasherMagazine.com's Junk Drawer... Compton-ass Terry got shot in Long Beach. Probably by someone actually from Compton. Maybe that bullet proof vest wasn't a joke after-all. I'm glad Thrasher went to more of a blog format instead of an www.magazine. NECKFACE is probably stoked on it, too. More?

I'm a Wreck

At Stateline Skatepark yesterday, I had a freak slam manualing across a fun box platform. While trying re-adjust my front foot, it slid off the nose of my board and down I went onto my hip, knee and shoulder. I felt ajar. My neck has been stiff ever since. I slept thru 10 this morning barely able to move my neck. So then I went skating again today because I am an idiot.

At the River's Edge park, there was a BMX competition yesterday and earlier today. They (the BMXers) left dust from the track all over the skatepark ramps. On a backside alley oop 50-50 to fakie, I hit some of this dust and went down hard onto my swellbow, hip and shoulders. There's nothing quite like a free fall from a few feet up to a hot contrete floor. To add to the fun, the hipper was onto my keys. My swellbow looks like it is sporting wood and I have a nice little strawberry burn on my shoulder. My neck feels much better now.

Crapnicopia

Some stuff off ThrasherMagazine.com:

Before there was Jackass, there was Simon Woodstock.
Watch some Pro-tec Bowl contest footy.

==================================================

I keep hearing that Grayson park will not open until July and maybe not even until September because, (Drum-roll)............................. there is not enough parking!?!?!? What? Seems like an issue like that might've been addressed early on.

I May Not Hear The End of This One, So...

... Ok, I whacked my opponant up-side the head playing racquetball earlier this evening... I was playing the ball off of the back glass when my racquet met with much more resistance than usual. Not a "boing", but a "THUD"... I had walloped 'em pretty good. He's ok. Luckily, he just had a small cut and we resumed the match... after the bleeding stopped.

===================================================

Maybe I'm a little bit old fashioned, but there are certain jokes you don't want to hear coming out of your dad's mouth... and in front of your mom. I felt sorry for him... most of us have been in his shoes. You start to tell a joke and you get half way through it before you realize that it's the kind of joke that's not really right for your audience. So you try to change the wording around... to clean it up. Soon the joke is mangled. So here is the joke as it was meant to be told:

A man goes up to the box-office with his rooster and tries to buy a ticket for the matinee, but the guy at the window won't sell him a ticket, "No sir, we can't let you into the theater with that chicken."

So the man goes off in the alley and stuffs the rooster down his pants, comes back, buys a ticket and goes into the theater.

He sits down next to two old ladies and as the lights go down for the previews he lets the rooster out.

The old lady closest to him sees it and is appalled; "Ethel! The man next to me has his cock out in the theater!"

Ethel looks over and says; "now you and I ain't spring chickens... we've been around a while and have seen a cock or two in our time."

"Yeah, but this one's eating my pop-corn!"

Right about the time in the joke where the old lady sees the rooster, my dad realized he wasn't about to say "cock" in front of my mom; and replaces the offending noun with "penis"... I laughed my flipping donkey off!

An offensive lineman:

Jon Alston was one of USC's premier cock blockers.

Hoo-rawww!

Got my back-side pivot-to-tail reverts and b/s 360 pivot-to-tail reverts back, dammit! My ankles feel as stable as they have in a couple years. Now to get my b/s pivot-to-tail shuvit and b/s 360 pivot-to-tail shuvit-ins back... then the coup de grace, 360 pivot-to-tail bigspin in. I've gotta remember these are 4' McPark ramps... I get down to Charlotte on a 6' metal ramp and suddenly I'm afraid to roll in. It's one of those easy things that are pretty sketchy the first time. I need to be rolling in off 6' before the concrete park opens, which looks to be the middle of June when I will be on-call. EF!

Work sucks. What can you do but just watch it all flush down the commode? The bowl will be left splattered, cracked and fowl. You'll press down on the lever and get nothing but an empty clanging sound. There won't be a clothes pin strong enough to keep your snout holes shut tight enough to escape the stench. You've gotta wonder why! How could this have happened? Greed, I 'spose. I hope when it comes full circle I will not have been thrown clear or too dizzy to get back up. I hope I can say "because I told you so!"

I imagine switching golf for skateboarding... "18 bowls at the country club, old boy, drop-in time is at 2:15... the big money deal? Oh we'll talk about that after I see your front-side airs!". You give a company a contract because their CEO can flip-in/flip-out SsBsTs the ledge out front of the clubhouse or has disaster reverts on lock on the 9th bowl. You bail on tricks you have wired because your boss can't do them and your review is coming up soon. You have a caddy (who's likely a better skater than you) cleaning your bearings, switching out your 54mm wheels for 63's. "Give me my 8.25!", you say handing him your 7.75. On the way home you scream "Golf-punks!" at a gang of golfers putting around in the street. "Why do they waste their time?", your boss mutters. "Hoodlums...", you reply, remembering your days as a golf-rat, when you got your clubs confiscated by the rentacops; when you had a good swing and had dreams of being sponsored by Titlist; before you had sold out.

Not sure how I got off on those tangents(???) I saw my girl at the Y who, for some reason, I am physically unable to talk to. The mouth opens, the words swirl around my brain, but all that comes out is some kinda eFFed-up, whispery wheeze. "Hi" and I quickly exit stage right, head down, arms at my side like Napoleon Dynamite.

Ten Things

1) I'm tired of hearing about 'the finger'.

2) Check your internal monologue filter if you catch your self saying "Damn Dad, your little sister is hot!".

3) Who ever said "if you love something, let it go" was a fucking idiot.

4) Karen, I'm sorry.

5) Two guys discussed a "pink-haired freak"... they were at a flea-market... they sported mullets.

6) People in Tennessee can't drive.

7) The park's almost done!

8) Hwy 16 is not a good route from Charlotte to Booger Haller.

9) I really do hate my job.

10) Winning the lottery is probably not the answer.

Charlotte Park

The park is almost done. Completely poured except for the decks. It looked like the pool coping was being laid and the tile set. There is really not much left except the decks and maybe buffing and sealing... a fense, probably. Hopefully not a place to pay building; hopefully it is free. How it could take much more than another week is beyond me.

Grayson Skatepark

I wish I didn't know about this place yet, but now I'm pretty much obsessed. So here's some pix:


This one is a shot of a couple of the ledges on the street/flow course; at the right fore-front is the back of this wall/spine thing that looks like it will be fun. In the background, top right-ish, it looks look a pretty big quarter pipe or wallride up a ledge.


The bowl. This one speaks for it's self.


Looking down into the deep end from the 6 1/2' bowl.


Another shot of the street course. At the left fore-front is the coping of the "1/4 bowl". To the right is a ledge. The bank ramp in between heads for a funbox/ledge (I think there will be a rail in the middle.) In the distance you can see the opposing banks and 1/4 pipes; one of them looks pretty big; 8 foot-ish?


Nice, curvy hips! 10' deep end to the left, shallow 5 1/2' to the right from the deck of the 6 1/2'.


Another shot at the hips from the 6 1/2' bowl.


Wollie-spine-bank thingy. This thing looks like a ton of fun. Some wollie-ing, some spine trick stuff, board slide to disaster xfer down the bank. Sweepers, bumpy layback tailslides, f/s rocks... I've got ideas for this thing. Ouch!

We Have (Some) 'Crete

Some, very little, concrete has been poured at Charlotte's soon-to-be new cement skatepark. The forms for the street course's ledges have been poured (yawn). More exciting to me and my ilk of oldskooler, over 30 types is that there is rebarb in the bowls. 'Crete pouring (or blowing, probably) is imminent. I took pictures, but the entire bowl is under a blue tarp; not much of an image. As windy as it was, the tarp blew against the rebarb and you could see that it has all been laid out. Also new to the site is lots of orange barriers and no trespassing signs.

So then I went to McDonalds, got robbed (kind of) due to my honesty (long story**) and headed over to Methodist Home Skatepark, just a couple miles away on the other side of 74. You have to wear a helmet and have your elbows and knees covered (some had cut up socks as elbow bads), but it was free, not very crowded and a fun park surfaced in steel on the ramps, concrete and whatever tennis courts are made out of. Some kid asked if I could board-slide the rail for his video so I obliged. If I had any complaints they would be circumstances beyond the Charlotte- Mecklenburg Parks and Recreation's control, like wind and oak tree pollen.

**Not-So-Long-Story

I went thru McDonald's Drive Thru. The guy in the van in front of me was being a dick, screaming his complicated order (he must've planned to feed 15 finicky people) over and over. So then I order my Chicken McNuggets Super Value Meal, paid, got my food and pulled away towards the exit - but the bag felt too heavy. I looked and sure enough there was my order plus a couple of Big Macs. I wheeled it around and took the extra McFood back to the counter, walked back out the door with my order; it was then that I was accosted by three dudes that seemed to materialize out of the bushes.

"Ay Yo Bra? you got some money?"

The leader claimed he was out of gas and his family was in the hospital and he needed to get there, and could he get a $5 or a $10 or whatever else was in my wallet. What do you do? You're taken a little by surprise. There's no real threat conveyed, but you're also outnumbered 3-1 eighty miles from home. At least they didn't ask to borrow your car... so you give em a $5.

"Hey why don't you give the rest of that money I saw in your wallet?"

I already felt like a punk. "Naw, I can't. I need that money to get home", I lied. "I-ight, then", and they disappeared back into the bushes.

What a pud I am; I should've just eaten that asshole's Bic Macs and let him loan his $5 or more when he returned for the rest of his order.

The Irony Of Rubberband Therapy

SNAP! AAAHHHH, @#$%&*!!! screamed our hero, having rendered useless a another rubberband. This was the seventh one today. Trying self therapy to control his anger, he had taken to wrapping rubberbands around his wrist and fingers to remind himself to stay calm during the trials and tribulations he faced daily. As three different managers asked for the status of the commitments they made. As his hard drive crashed. As he wondered who the conclave would pick as the next director of... whatever.

The therapy had worked... at first, until while twiddling the rubberband nervously during a meeting, the strap flexed beyond its tensity threshold and popped him sharply across the face. What a surprise! Between counting the wasted seconds of his life and paying attention for keywords that might indicate an incoming question, he began to believe he was going to make it, but now he had dropped his pacifier on the floor; lost his Nicorette; could not suck on his thumb; Mom was driving away, the tail lights getting smaller; left alone without his blankie... he would have to face Bob's question without his crutch. "What's the status of the flangie dinger out-forcing action item recto-problacation, widgy-didgy?" It sounded miles away; like the ornery bee you're vaguely aware of; like Charlie Brown's mom reading the phone book in pig-latin, droning on like lawn mowers off in the distance...

Then the phone rang. Saved by the bell!

Rubberband 2 and 3 lasted an hour each. Rubberband four popped within a half hour. He began looking for stronger bands with greater rebound, but these only hurt worse when they gave.

As he hung up the phone, and deleted the loading table emails, and finally filled out his time sheet, and hung up the most newest, up-to-date call list, he noticed he would have the support pager on his friggin' birthday... SNAP!

Trailer: Beer Helmet

Watch Thrasher Magazine's Beer Helmet trailer. Do it NOW!

We Have (some) Coping

A lot of coping was installed at Grayson park this past week with just a 10' access section at the shallow end and the entire vert bowl left without coping. The coping is all 2" black steel, but it looks like the vert (deep end) will have pool coping. The 2" black steel is also setup in the street area.


a shot of the vert bowl. You see that it is being prepared for pool coping (I think)


another shot of the vert bowl


a shot of hip that transitions from 4' to 5' or 6'


shot of the hips


shot of the shallow (4') end


another shot of the shallow bowl


a shot from the shallow end to the deep end

Oh Shit!

A new study shows that people who worry are six times more likely to get Parkinson's disease.

True

Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist.

-George Carlin


==================================================
I used to skate with this guy from time to time at i-level, Boone and Banner Elk - Bengi Galloway.

'C' Is For Cutting Back

The Questionaire

We are asked why we have the perception that we are not happy. What's wrong with the system? What about quality? Procedures to communicate?

And we answer:

Because no one's listening.
Because it doesn't matter what we think.
Because you are not up-front with us.
Because of sourcing.
Because of cutting costs.
Because we've no carrots.
Because the system doesn't work.
Because every thing's a secret.
Because the template doesn't fit.
Because we've no options.
Because you let it fester.
Because we don't have time.
Because we don't believe it's confidential or anonymous.
Because we are taken for granted.
Because 40 ain't good enough.
Because of poor planning.
Because 3.5% ain't good enough.
Because you don't know what we do.
Because our skills are wasted.
Because we're being sold out.
Because you can't say no.
Because of undue uncertainty.
Because you've lost touch.
Because if you have to ask...
Because you ought to know.
Because of your benefits.
Because ours are gone.
Because of tight budgets.
Because pouring syrup on shit doesn't make it pancakes.

I used to have a good attitude. I fear that it has been irreparably damaged.

===================================================

I have a bad habit of re-living my acts of retardation. I dwell on the idiotic things I've said or done weeks, months, even years ago. For example:

Last year when my grandmother passed away we decided to have a graveside memorial for her after church services on Sunday. This was not a normal Sunday, it was also Father's Day Sunday. My mom, my dad and myself sat through the service. My uncle and his family sat across the aisle. Towards the end of the service, the preacher asked all of the fathers in the room to stand. My dad stood with all of the other fathers, including my uncle and his son. Then the preacher asked all of the sons and daughters to come foward to accept a gift to give to their fathers. My dad laughed and said "... go on ..." I stood still, "NO!". "...Go on up there!", he prodded, snickering. I looked over and saw my cousin heading for the aisle, as young children ran forward... so I started walking down the aisle. By the time I get to the front, I notice that my cousin has sat back down, that I'm taller than the rest of the "children" by about 2-3 feet, that I've got them all beat by about 20-25 years... AND THE ENTIRE FRIGGIN' CONGREGATION is pointing and laughing at me. My face is beet-red now and I turn and sprint back to our pew, where my dad is laughing uncontrollably and won't let me in. "Where's my gift, boy?" he laughs as I push him out of the way and slump down onto the bench. My mom, who I enherited my social awkwardness from and still has her mother's burial to look forward to, laughs sympathetically with me and looks out through the stained glass window towards my grandmother's grave-sight, surely praying, "Lord, please help my poor idiot-son get through the next hour without knocking over the casket!"

Hindsight Is m2o

In retrospect maybe it wasn't such a great idea to throw a temper-tantrum the day before my annual review... My bad, Cokémon.

Broken 4Runner Haikus

black ice on highway,

I slide then ride out the roll,

broken 4runner

violent* flipping truck,

after hitting sheet of ice,

God bless the airbag

it stopped and I walk,

away from the esuvee,

stoked to be alive

*who really says vi-o-lent? vi-lent!

UN BROKEN

I haven't written anything here in over a week, simply because I've been uninspired lately... until now.

I'm in the middle of reading an artical in the April 05 issue of Skateboarder magazine, Vol. 14, No. 8, entitled UN BROKEN. I feel ashamed of my pissing and moaning over my Achilles Tendonitis and I want to make up for it. When I'm finshed typing this, and after I bid on Danny Way's Flying Toro deck, I'm gonna go skate.

John Cardiel's been one of my favorite skaters for a while now; a sort of "gnar-dog", all-terrain skater that I group with Chet Childress, Chris Senn, Jason Adams, Wade Speyer, Tony Truillo, ... and to some extent Bam Margera. About a year ago on tour in Australia, "Cards" suffered a spinal injury that left him paralized. He was stuck in a hospital bed in Oz for 5 months, told by his doctors he would never walk again. He is proving them all wrong. The following are a few excerpts (without permission, of course) from UN BROKEN:

What kind of prognosis were the doctors giving you for recovery? Did they say you'd never walk again?
Yeah, that's what they told me. That's what they told my family, too. They were just like, "Homeboy's down; he'll never walk again." My dad and mom were just trying to break it down, like, "You might never walk again." They were just trying to let me know. I was like, "F**k that! There's no way I won't walk again! That's just not possible!"

...

Now your'e walking again, right?
Yeah, now I'm walking.

...

How do you keep such a positive attitude?
I think it's just faith. Just knowing that you're gonna pull it. It's like skating. If someone says, "You're never gonna make that trick," and you're like, "I'm gonna make it," you keep trying until you make it.

Have you stood on a skateboard yet?
Yeah, I've cruised around. I can bust nose wheelies and little manuals and stuff. I can't ollie or nothing, but I can tic-tac around and do nose wheelies. I mean, I'm not doing tuck knee g-turns or nothing, but I can cruise and do little nose wheelies and shit.

Yeah, man.
I tried to get on a mini-ramp the other day. I took a scrub, but I can kind of pump a little bit.

But after all that, even slamming must kind of feel good.
It feels so good, dude. It feels good to take a slam. A little masonite burn, a little scar, a little blood. You're like, "God! I'm alive!" Yeah, it felt hella good.

...

I assume you're doing a lot of rehab.
Yeah, I do it basically every day. Danny Way hooked me up with a doctor in San Diego.


"...Falling Down & Getting Back Up" - A quote from an ad for Cardiel's board sponsor.

Getting Old Sucks Ass Haiku

like slip bolt pliers,

Achilles Tendonitis,

getting old sucks ass

I have a new injury to add to my growing roster... Achilles Tendonitis. My 30th year has been so much fun! Maybe by this time next year I can be using a cane or a walker!

Strange Dreams

Last night I dreamed that I was eating grape flavored oranges; clementines, actually. They had orange colored peels but were purple on the inside. A girl that I see at the Y was eating them with me and then we started running. I hate running but I like her, so I tried to keep up. She eventually left me as she moved on to the cycling stage (triathlon, I guess?) I hate bicycles... I woke up tired.

The night before, I dreamed that I went to a water park. A lot of people from work were there. It cost $7 to get in. I was getting my money out of my wallet when the guy and the gate became very irritated with me: "HAVE YOUR ENTRY FEE READY WHEN YOU GET TO THE GATE! GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE!" He reminded me of Coach Buzzcut. I got into the park on my next attempt.

Once inside, everyone was racing each other down the slides. I was frustrated that everyone was beating me down and my times kept getting worse. One person was doing worse than me. She was trying to slide down standing up. The park closed and I stayed and practiced. While at the back end of the park, I noticed that there was no fence. I could've saved $7 and not gotten yelled at.

Today I Saw a Dog With a Mullet.

Trailer Park Nights

Season 4, Webisode 5:

(Last time on Trailer Park Nights: After hearin' the pleas fer help, Blue fled the yard of's new owner's Mike and Wendy to rescue lil Jimmy. As tax time nears, will Mike and Wendy the write off the $150 they paid for Blue or go look for their new dawg. Tonya's still missing; Jonathan's none the wiser. The Law was questionin' Stephanie's momma and Marcus about the wherabouts of Stephanie. When asked about lil Jimmy, Stephanie's momma passed out. Stephanie was on the run after burnin' Nadene's trailer to the ground. How will Nadene react? Will lil Jimmy be saved? Where's Stephanie? Where's Tonya? Will Tanya get away with what she done? All this and more on this episode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS)

<Theme song plays, characters pose...>

Officer Swayne: Bacon! Call EMS... she's past-out! (while both Bacon and Swayne aren't lookin', Marcus makes a run for it)

Marcus: Kiss my rebel ass, pigs!

Swayne: DAMMIT!

Officer Bacon: ... yeah, we need an EMS unit and back up. We got a 390D and HBD onna run... suspected 920F...

(Marcus long gone into the woods...)

STATION: Rookie, can you comeback in English?

Bacon: 10-4, request EMS and backup... We got a possible drunk and unconscious, a drunk on the run and a suspected missing child. Over.

STATION: 10-4. Is this at the arson scene? ... at the trailer park?

Bacon: 'Firmative.


Scene 2 (Mike and Wendy running after Blue...)

Mike: Blue! Bad dog! Get back here!

Wendy: (winded) Forget about him, Mike... we're better off without that retard-dog! (Mike keeps running, Wendy slows to a jog as they enter the woods where they last saw Blue.)

Scene 3 (Meanwhile, Blue is pissin' all over lil Jimmy...)

Lil Jimmy: Dangit, Blue! Stoppit! You friggin' retard-dawg!!! (Mike runs up to the edge of wrecked mine shaft entrance, seeing Blue and lil Jimmy...)

Mike: Blue! Jimmy! Are you all right? (He runs down to where lil Jimmy lies broken and wet. Blue looks aloof, but relieved)

Lil Jimmy: Help me! This stupid-ass re-tard dawg jes pistallover me.

Mike: What happened... Jimmy, right? (He pulls out his cell phone...) Lay still... I'm a doctor...

Lil Jimmy: I was ridin' my go-cart lass night, and, and,... I ain't sposed to be ridin' back'ere, but, um... well alla-sudden...

Dr. Mike: You've been laying here since last night!?!?

Lil Jimmy: (crying now) Yeah... and I was screamin' fer help... and this retard-dawg jes peed all over me! And if I could git up, I'd kick the crap out ovem. (Wendy comes walking up...)

Dr. Mike: (To Wendy...) Go get my bag and a blanket! (To Lil Jimmy...) Son, that 'retard' dog may have saved you from hypothermia... (he calls 911 on his cell phone...)

Commercial

Scene 4 (Jonathan just gits loose from the duct tape that bound em when Tanya comes out of the bathroom door...)

Jonathan: Tonya? What the hell, baby?

Tanya: You have fun lass night, Johnny?

Jonathan: Johnny? Lass night? I'on't member nothing that happened lass night! (he wrings his wrists, still red and sticky from the duct tape...) What the hell's gotten into you? (Listens) You hear somethin'?

(Tanya laughs a weird unfamiliar laugh... Jonathan looks confused; scared.)


Scene 5 (in the crawl space, under the Tonya's trailer; she's bound and gagged with duct tape...)

Tonya: Mmmpphhh, mmmpph, ooom-hmmmm! Ffmmmmph!



Scene 6 (Stephanie's been on the road fer hours...)

Stephanie: (To her self, crying...) What've I done. I'm a end up in jail! Lil Jimmy's gonna grow up with out a momma! That bitch Nadene'll prolly jes git a bran-new trailer wither insurance money and she's gonna steal Tim! (crying more, gettin' mad...) Shoulda waited till she's asleep inner trailer an burner ass up!

(this kinda manic self-pity/anger monologue goes on fer miles...)

Scene 7

Nadene: That BITCH! (as she and Tim pull up to her still smoldering trailer)

Tim: I tole you! What'd I tell ya? She's friggin' crazy! We gotta fine lil Jimmy if she ain't already kid-napptem!

Nadene: I'M GOIN' TO KILL THAT BITCH!!! (Tim notices the sheriff car a few lots down...)

Tim: Nadene... quiet down, they's po-leese over thar. Stop talkin' bout killin' my baby's momma in front of the po-leese. (To the Law...) OFF-SIR! (He walks over to the Bacon and Swayne) C'mon, Nadene!


Bacon: (To Swayne, who is still trying to revive Stephanie's momma...) Sarge! Ms. Adams is here! (To Nadene...) Ms. Adams, we're gonna needs to ask you some questions about your trailer home...

Nadene: Yeah! I wanna file a complaint!

Swayne: (Walks away from Stephanie's momma, who lays unconscious but resting comfortable, Nods acknowledgement to Tim) Tim.

Tim: (to Swayne) Jake.

Swayne: Ms. Adams, we have sev-ral reports that Stephanie Barnes was seen storming out after a confrontation with you and Tim at Frosty's lass night. We were questionin' Ms. Barnes' momma and her step-deady when she past-out an he runned off.

Commercial


Scene 8 (an ambulance, a lawyer and a local newspaper reporter show up together at the scene of the mine shaft)

Dr. Mike: Easy, son. Help is here. (The EMS crew race down to Lil Jimmy, beaten to jimmy's side by the lawyer. The photographer/reporter/editer of the Record snaps shots of the scene)

Lawyer: Son. We're going to get you compensation for your injuries. The land owner, the mine company, Briggs & Stratton... they've got deep pockets, son...

Ems: Excuse me! (They push the lawyer aside to tend to Lil Jimmy) Lay still. Tell us what hurts...

Lil Jimmy: Ma Laygg an my neck...

Lawyer: I've got a neck brace right here... (Blue walks over to the lawyer and lifts his leg...)


Scene 9 (Tanya and Jonathan walk out to his Iroq Z28)

Jonathan: You drive, Tonya... I still ain't right from lass night.

Tanya: (Excited) OK! Gimmie yer keys!

Jonathan: What? Where's yers? You ain't lost that key I gave you???

Tanya: Uh... no, I... uh jes... hole-on (looks through Tonya's purse) Oh... here they are. (They git in...)

Tanya: Uhmmmm... (it's a 5-speed...)


Final Scene:

Swayne: Thas all the questions we've got fer right now, mame. We appreciate yer help.

Nadene: (Calmed down by now...) Thank you, off-sirs.

Bacon: (Lookin' deep into Nadene's eyes...) Do you have a place to stay tonight? (Tim interupts...)

Tim: Yeah. She's got a place to stay, (Cou-PIG!-ghs)

Bacon: What was that?

Tim: Nuthin'... I's jes saying she's got a place to stay. (Tanya and Jonathan pull up in his Iroc Z28... Jonathan gets out... angrily)

Jonathan: (To Tim...)What the hell're you doing with my sister, you sum'a'bitch!


(Next time on Trailer Park Nights: Will punches be thrown right in front of the Law? Didn't Jonathan notice his sister Nadene was with Tim the night before at Frosty's or was he too drunk? Is Blue really gonna urinate on the lawyer? Will Dr. Mike find out that Lil Jimmy's Grand mother doesn't really need an operation? Will Stephanie have to toss salad in jail? Will Stephanie's momma be revived in time to see the race tonight? Will Marcus git away? Where's Stephanie? Can Tonya escape? How will Tanya explain Jonathan's burned out clutch in his Iroc Z28... and what she done? All this and more on the next webisode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS!)

Down the Yadkin Haiku

sold down the Yadkin,

cubes smell of ass and urine,

wait to be outsourced

The Support Center Technician

Inpired by too few words that don't say enough.

The Documentor

Inspired by lots of words that say nothing.

Cracked Knee Haiku

oh my busted knee,

painful swelling full of pus,

makes a creaky noise

Paying The Price of Stupidity

I was off from work Friday, taking my last available vacation day of fiscal 2004. Vacation days like these aren't really planned and as such usually turn out feeling more like a sick day; a not-really-sick sick day. I felt like I was playing hookie. So until about the time I would usually get off work, I just kinda tooled around the house, watching my stocks go down, finally watching a dvd I'd borrowed last week, letting the dog in and out and cleaning the cat's litter box.

At 5:30, I headed to The Y... HOLY SHIT! The hottest girl I've ever seen in my life was there! Face, body, all... TIDDOW! (or BOO-YAH!, if you like) She was kinda muscular, but not too much like those scary, leathery she-men you see on ESPN. She was on the squat rack and I on the bench press. She moaned on each rep squatting what looked to be about 225lbs. "DANG!", I thought, as I struggled with 185. I wasn't the only one. Everyone in there was watching this girl work out; man, woman and child; in aw. And the thought within each was so loud that an audible "dang!" actually came out over the weight room like a stage whisper.

For the next hour and 1/2, I worked out as hard as I had in years! Too much and too many leg presses, too much and too many pull-downs, pull-ups, dips, butterflies and crunches... too much of everything while I tried to think of something say to this girl (something better than "How you doin'?)... and then she was gone! It was about 6:45 and somebody was banging on the window wanting to play racquet ball... so I did.

I went on to play racquet ball until the Y closed at 9pm. As I wobbled out to the car, broken and battered, I was hurting, but I was nowhere near the pain I would be feeling the next morning. I woke up feeling like I had been unmercifully beaten by that hot girl's husband or boyfriend or dad or somebody who must've seen me looking at his girl. Hell, it could've been her. I felt pummeled; pulverized! I cannot sit, stand or walk. My only comfort is Icy-hot.

It's two days later and I am still paying the price of stupidity.

Trailer Park Nights

Season 4, Webisode 4:

(Last time on Trailer Park Nights: Where's Tonya? She was no where to be seen as her finance Jonathan ander long, loss twin sister Tanya were seen together partying at Frosty's. Mean while, lil Jimmy lay broken and bleeding fer hours after crashin' thru the old abandoned mine shaft. Stephanie lefter trailer after her aner momma had cross words about her baby's deady Tim aner step-deady Marcus. What will she do when she fines out about Tim an Nadene's drunken grab-assin' at the bar? Shouldn't Nadene get to the hospital?... Who paid Tanya's ransom? Find all this out and more on the next webisode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS)

<Theme song plays, characters pose...>

(At Frosty's Bar, the reglers are in full swing. Jonathan and Tanya are sloppy drunk an all over each other. Sixer seven PBRs seem to've done wonders fer Nadene's ankle as she's on the dance floor grab-assin' with Tim... Stephanie walks in the door...)

Stephanie: TIM!!! WHAT'N HELLER YOU DOIN' WITH THAT WHORE?!?!?

(In mid-grind, doggy-style position, Tim blurrily looks up at his baby's mamma, surprised...)

Tim: Steph-knee! Uh, uh... It ain't whut it looks like! We was lookin fer lil Jimmy's dog... and, uh... yeah, Nadene broker layg an I's gonna taker to the hospital... we jes stopteer to, uh... dang... (to Nadene, still grindin') Git offa me, dangit!

Stephanie: Layg broken, huh? Sh'ont look liker layg's broke the way that ho's gotter ass all over you! You summa-bitch!...

(Stephanie storms outta the bar... on a mishun.)

Scene 2

(Lil Jimmy becomes aware of his predicament. He's stuck unner's go-cart down in the abandoned mine shaft he'd been ferbidden to go near. He kin see the broken timbers he crashed thru abov'em from the moon light comin' in. He trys and pushes on the go-cart to no avail...)

Jimmy: MOMMA!, MOMMA!, DEADY! (crying)... BLUUUUEEE! (there ain't no answer 'cept fer the sound of crickets.)

Scene 3

Marcus: You kin ferget aboutit! I ain't taken you out looken fer Steph-knee.

Stephanie's Momma: Fine! Jes gimmie yer keys an I'll go by my self. I ain't lettin'er run oft an doin' sumfin stupid with that jackass Tim!

Marcus: I tole ye, sh'ain't going nowheres with Tim. He's at the.. (Stephanie's momma grab's Marcus' keys an runs out the doors. He's to drunk too stopper.) ...Where'na hell you goin?

(Stephanie's momma drives off into the night. Marcus stumbles out the door to the front porch an sees Stephanie's momma's runnin' lights shrink in the distance. He tries to run afterer an falls down the stairs. He passes out in a heap at the landing.)

Commercial - This webisode of TRAILER PARK NIGHTS is brought to you by Nyquil - liquid crack in a tasty cherry flavor!

Scene 4

(On the road, Stephanie's momma passes Stephanie going the other way, but doesn't see her. Stephanie flips her off. She has a tank fulla kerocene an some matches she jes pictup from the Come N Go up the street.)

Scene 5 (Nex Mornin', Jonathan wakes up in his bed to the sound of a shower.)

Jonathan (to self): Oh my head... what the hell happened? (aloud) TONYA? What the hell happened lass night?... Why'm I all duct taped up?

Tanya (from the shower): I be out in a minute, Johnny!

Jonathan (to self): Johnny??... (aloud) Tonya?... Baby, why'm I all duct taped up?

(shower continues with no answer.)

Scene 6

(The law pulls up into Marcus and Stephanie's momma's driveway. They get out and approach Marcus, who's still passed out at the bottom of the steps.)

Officer Swayne (to Marcus): Mr. Triplette?, MR. TRIPLETTE! MARCUS TRIPLETTE! (to the rookie officer) Bacon! Call EMS!

Marcus: (Grunts) Naomi (Stephanie's momma's name?), git backere wit my truck 'for I smack you agin... (passes out again).

Officer Swayne: Never mind, rookie. I thank he's comin' round. (nudges Marcus with a boot, kicks Marcus in the gut) Git up!

Marcus: (Grunts again, opens his eyes and sees Officers Swayne and Bacon) Dang!

Officer Swayne: Mr. Triplette, we got some queshuns an we thank you you got some answers...

Marcus: Kiss my rebel ass, pig!

(Officer Bacon turns his head away as Swayne starts kickin'.)

Marcus: (caughin') I-ight, i-ight... I'll answer! I'll answer... ast me, ast me!!

Officer Swayne: Whatta you know bout that smolderin' trailer over there?

Marcus: I ain't start no far! I been here all night! You kin ast Naomi! Aster! She'll tell ya!

Officer Bacon: Sir, we're looking for Mrs. Trip-- (Swayne cuts him off...)

Officer Swayne: Shet the hell up, rookie! (to Marcus) We got an APB out onyer dawterNlaw. We spect she burnt down Miss Dautry's trailer over there.

Marcus: Prolly did... she prolly did... Is Nadene i-ight?

Commercial

Scene 7

Tim: Dang, Nadene... what happened lass night... that cain't happen again... If Steph-knee foun-out she'd prolly burn yer trailer down...

Nadene: (laffin') What'd you mean 'if she foun-out'? She caught us lass night, 'member?

Tim: Dang!

Nadene: Don't werry Tim, she'ain't stupid.

Tim: She is stupid, too! She's a dang ... (Nadene cuts him off...)

Nadene: She'ain't gonna do nothin' like that an leave lil' Jimmy to have his momma in jail. 'Sides... I'd beater ass!

Tim: Dang!!! Lil Jimmy! We still ain't found his dawg!

Scene 8

(Lil Jimmy's still stuck in the abandoned mine shaft, but has managed to drag'em self out from unner's go-cart. He's got some pretty bad lacerashuns. He's hert and inna lotta pain.)

Lil Jimmy: MOMMA! MOMMA! (crying) MOMMA, BLUE! (split screen; off in the distance, Blue's new owner's tryin' to teachem how to sit and lay down... the trainin' ain't goin' well...)

Blue's new owner: I SAID SIT!... SIT! (Blue looks aloof, his new owner screams to her husband:) Honey, this dog you've brought home is retarded!

(Blue hears Lil Jimmy's crys for help and takes off, bounds over the fence and heads in the direction of Lil Jimmy's voice.)

Blue's new owner: Mike, that retarded dog you bought just ran off!!!

Blue's other new owner (Mike): Well Wendy, I only paid $150 for him... It was the least I could do... the kid was selling his dog to raise money for his grandmother's operation! Poor kid! (split screen goes away...)

Scene 9

(Stephanie's momma's been out all night lookin' fer Stephanie. She slows onner way back to her trailer as she passes what's left of Nadene's smoldering trailer...)

Stephanie's momma: I thank she's been back here lately (she says to her self. Pulling on into her driveway she see's the law questionin' her husband...) Dangit, Marcus! (she says to her self before she gets out to see what he's done...)

Officer Swayne: Howdy Mrs. Tripplette... we's jes askin Mr. Triplette some questions...

Stephanies' momma: He ain't done nuthin' wrong... I deserved it... he warned me and I jes kept running my mouth... (Swayne and Bacon look at each other; Marcus interupts...)

Marcus: Yer doin' it again, Naomi! Shet yer hole!

Officer Swayne: Mame, we was asking him if he knew anything about that burnt down trailer over yonder...

Stephanie's momma: ...Oh...

Officer Bacon: Mrs. Triplette, do you know the where-abouts of your daughter?

Stephanie's momma: Well, uh, she...

Officer Swayne: Yer Gran-son, James???

Stephanie's momma: Lil' Jimmy!?!?! (She faints.)

Final scene: (Lil Jimmy's dawg Blue is bounding through the woods closing in on the calls of Lil Jimmy. He get's to the opening of the abandoned mine and sees Jimmy. He barks twiced. Lil Jimmy looks up and screams in joy.)

Lil Jimmy: BLUE! Go get help boy! Good dawg! (Blue goes down in the hole and walks up to Lil Jimmy, panting and waggin' his tail...)

Lil Jimmy: Good dawg... (shivering) go get help boy.

(Blue lifts his leg...)

<Theme song plays, credits roll...>

(Next time on Trailer Park Nights: What happened to Tonya? Is Blue really gonna urinate on Lil Jimmy? Will he go get help? Why didn't Mike just give Lil Jimmy the $150 and let him keep his dog? Will Jonathan figure out that Tanya SWF'd her sister? Who paid the ransom? When will he and Tim fight? Over what? Will the law let Marcus get away in the midst of the confusion caused by the far and Stephanie's momma passin' out? When's the last time Stephanie's even thought about her baby's deady's son? Where'd she go? Will Nadene beater ass fer what she done? All this and more on the next webisode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS!)

Useless Wooden Toy Haiku

disaster reverts,

i try them from time to time,

i fall down go boom


Watch fellow North Carolinian and useless wooden toy enthusiast Chet Childress fall down go boom before riding away clean from a backside pivot to disaster revert...

Related Linx:

• Sinofact.com


• Thrasher Magazine


• NikeSB

Mexican't Anymore

Mexican for lunch,
Mexican for dinner,
it's just starting;

Twenty Five at Chile Verde',
Eighteen at El Valle',
can't stop farting;

A taco, burrito,
beans and rice,
This is the combo that I ate twice;

Now that I'm home,
I'm paying the price,
Pepto-Bismol will not suffice.

It's A Celebration!

The Chapelle's Show second season will be out on dvd on February 8th, according to Maxim Magazine's February issue!!!


Click the picture above to see Dave Chapelle as Rick James on Comedy Central's Chapelle's Show.

TcHell-Man

"Well, there are all manner of lesser imps and demons, Pete, but the great Satan hisself is red and scaly with a bifurcated tail, and he carries a hay fork."
-Ulysses Everett McGill, O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Hangman:


"Damn! We're in a tight spot!"
- Ulysses Everett McGill, O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Prince Can Ball!

All of Chapelle's sketches rule, but this is (maybe) my favorite:


Click the picture above to see Dave Chapelle as Prince on Comedy Central's Chapelle's Show.

Other clips of interest (Rated eF for lots of eFfing eF words):

• "Pray For Me - Jason Jessee", dude needs prayer (don't we all?)

Trailer Park Nights

Season 4, Webisode 3:

(Last time on Trailer Park Nights:
Nadine and Tim's hunt fer lil Jimmy's dawg took them further from the park then they'd ever been as pashuns run high, unbeknownst to Tim's baby's mamma Stephanie who's been preshurin' Tim fer nuptuals. Meanwhile, lil' Jimmy's confided in Tonya that he sole his dawg so's he could get him a new engine fer's go-cart. Will Tonya tell on em or's she too preoccupied with lernin' of her long lost identical twin sister who'd been held fer ransom? Will Stephanie find out about Nadine? Will Tim fall prey to Nadine's forwardness? Or will Tonya's sister Tanya makeout with Tonya's boyfriend Jonathan in his Iroc Z28? Who paid the ransom? Find all this out and more in this webisode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS)

<Theme song plays, characters pose...>

Tim: Dang that dang dog! Where you reckon he went to?

Nadine: I spect te'll come a runnin' come some supper time... (Nadine rolls her ankle and falls to the ground. )

Nadine: Dammit!

Tim: You all right Nadine (tryin' not to laff)?

Nadine: No you summa-bitch (cryin')... I think I broke my ankle!

Tim: Dang, Nadine... I sarry... I ain't mean to laff achta. Lemme hep y'up.

Nadine: Yer gonna hafta carry me, Tim (cryin' even more).

(Tim pixer up and their eyes meet as Beautiful by HIM begins to play in the background; they commence to tongue-kissin'.)

Fade to scene 2.

Stephanie: I'm jus gonna fake a coma and when he sees he could lose me, he'll wont me morn-ever.

Stephanie's momma: Steph-knee, I tole you that boy's a no-count, good fer nuthin' loser an you ain't listen to me. You ain't listen to me then, an you ain't listnin' to me now. Yer deady's dang near kilt that boy, an cause of him the law's been out here twiced lookin' fer em fer what he done.

Stephanie: That wernt Tim's fault. You jus don't understand; Marcus jus hates Tim cause I wouldn't go out with em and went with Tim instead.

Stephanie's momma: You stop callin' yer step-deady Marcus! He's payin yer way through beauty school an you'll givem the dang r'spec he deserves!

Stephanie: (Cryin') He AIN't my deady! Anybody that's ask me out and then marries my momma is son of a ....

(Stephanie's momma slaps Stephanie)

Scene 3
Tonya: You gotta tell yer deady wut you've done, Jimmy!

Jimmy: I c'ain't! Deady'll whoop my ass if he finds out I sole that dawg; sides, that dawg was a retard an this go-cart is aw-some now with this new engine. C'mon Tonya... lemme take you fer a ride.

Tonya: I... I c'ain't... I'm fixin' to go with Jonathan over to the bus station to pick up Tanya; my long loss sister. I'm so nervice an excited!

Jimmy: Fine then. You jus better not tell nobody bout how I sole Blue or where I got this new go-cart engine! (He spins his tires in the gravel and rides off angrily.)

Commercial

Scene 4

(Tim and Nadine're still kissin' till they hear a motor of in the woods.)

Tim: What'n far was-at!?!?

Nadine: Prolly jus some dumb kid on a mini-bike messin' round the ole abadoned mines.

Tim: This is wrong, Nadine. We c'aint be doin' this. I made a mistake taken you out here wimmie...

Nadine: Yer Right Tim... Less go fine ol Blue... Oh Tim!!!

Tim: Oh Nadine! (They kiss some more.)

Scene 5

(Stephanie's runnin out the front door of the trailer, bags pact, carryin' on so the whole park can hear.)

Stephanie: I'm leavin' and I ain't never comin' back!

Stephanie's momma: Good! S'bout time you got outta here and outta me an Marcus' pocket book! You run to that idiot Tim! Y'all deserve one another (screaming/crying) you spoilt lil bitch!

Scene 6

(Jonathan and Tonya pull up to the Greyhound station in his Iroc Z28. Def Leopard is blairin' out of the speakers making the loose, bubbly DIY window tint rattle and vibrate. They see Tonya's long, loss twin sister...)

Jonathan: Dang! You reckon that's her?

(Tonya jumps out the car an runs toer long, loss sister.)

Tonya: Tanya?!?!

Tanya: Tonya?!?!

(They hug. With Tonya's back to him, Jonathan checks out Tanya's goods. Mist surrounds...)

(Tonya, Jonathan and Tanya are in the hot tub. Tonya pours PBR down Jonathan's throat while Tanya stands up in the hot tub and reaches for the tiny string that holds her bikini top on...)

Jonathan: AWESOME!...(mist dissipates, Jonathan comes back to to reality as he hears Tonya callin' his name.)

Tonya: Jonathan... Jonathan... JONATHAN!!...

Jonathan: Uh, wha?...

Tonya: Tanya, this is my fiancee, Jonathan... Jonathan, this is Tanya.

(Tanya stares longingly at Jonathan's Iroc Z28 as Jonathan checks out the revelation of Tanya's v-neck.)

Commercial

Scene 7

(Lil Jimmy is speeding along in his go cart out near where the old mine is. He's been ferbidden to go there... He weaves in an out from betwixt rocks and trees before crashin' into one of the abandoned mine shafts.)

Scene 8

(Marcus comes home smelling of Night Train and Aqua net.)

Stephanie's mama: Dammit Marcus! Where you been? I've been worried sick. Steph-knee left... we had some cross words an I'm afeared sh'ain't never coming back.

Marcus: What'd she say?

Stephanie's mama: That sh'ain't never coming back! (crying)We gotta go getter for she runs oft an marries Tim!

Marcus: (Laughs)Tim ain't going to marry'er... I jus saw him at the Frosty's with Nadine from lot #9.

Scene 9 at the Frosty's

(Nadine has'er ace-bandaged leg propped up in Tim's lap at the booth crost from the bar. They are getting drunker.)

Nadine: What about Lil Jimmy's dawg?

Tim: Ferget that dang dawg! I'ont care bout no dang dawg... that dawg can kiss my rebel-ass! YEE-HA!!!

(Other drunken rednecks join in:)

YEE-HAAAAWWW!!!!

(The doors swing open and Jonathan and Tanya walk in. Everybody thinks it's Tonya.)

Final scene

(deep in the mine shaft, Lil Jimmy lies motionless under the weight of his go-cart... the wheels still rollin', blood dripping from a knot on his forehead. He's still breathing.)

<theme song plays, credits roll...>

(Next time on Trailer Park Nights: What happened to Tonya? Will Lil Jimmy be found? With the help of his ole dawg Blue? Stephanie finds out about Nadine and sets fire to her trailer. Tim and Jonathan fight. Who paid the ransom? Why is Stephanie's momma in the hospital? Will the law catch Marcus fer what he done? All this and more on the next webisode of... TRAILER PARK NIGHTS!)

The Worst Haiku Ever

I write this haiku,
by just counting to seven,
it was too easy

Rolling Kristy; Again!

Adam Sandler's Horoscope

This one always gives me a chuckle. It's been attributed to Adam Sandler. I don't know if he really wrote it, but here goes (you might wanna skip this one if you can't deal with a little bit of profanity):

Adam Sandler's Horoscope


Aquarius (Jan 23 - Feb 22)
You have an inventive mind and are inclined to be progressive. You lie a great deal. You make the same mistakes repeatedly because you are stupid. Everyone thinks you are a fucking jerk. Top

Pisces (Feb 23 - Mar 22)
You are a pioneer type and think most people are dickheads. You are quick to reprimand, impatient and full of advice. You do nothing but piss-off everyone you come in contact with. You are a prick. Top

Aries (Mar 23 - April 22)
You have a wild imagination and often think you are being followed by the FBI or CIA. You have minor influence on your friends and people resent you for flaunting your power. You lack confidence and are a general dipshit. Top

Taurus (April 23 - May 22)
You are practical and persistent. You have a dogged determination and work like hell. Most people think you are stubborn and bullheaded. You are nothing but a goddamned communist. Top

Gemini (May 23- June 22)
You are a quick and intelligent thinker. People like you because you are bisexual. You are inclined to expect too much for too little. This means you are a cheap bastard. Geminis are notorious for thriving on incest. Top

Cancer (June 23 - July 22)
You are sympathetic and understanding to other people's problems, which makes you a sucker. You are always putting things off. That is why you will always be on welfare and won't be worth a shit. Everyone in prison is a Cancer. Top

Leo (July 23 -Aug 22)
You consider yourself a born leader. Others think you are an idiot. Most leos are bullies. You are vain and cannot tolerate criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving motherfuckers and enjoy masturbation more than sex. Top

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sept 22)
You are the logical type and hate disorder. Your shit-picking attitude is sickening to your friends and co-workers. You are cold and unemotional and often fall asleep while fucking. Virgos make good bus drivers and pimps. Top

Libra (Sept 23 - Oct 22)
You are the artistic type and have a difficult time dealing with reality. If you are a male you are probably queer. Chances for employment and monetary gain are nill. Most Libra women are whores. All Libras die of venereal disease. Top

Scorpio (Oct 23 - Nov 22)
You are the worst of the lot. You are shrewd in business and cannot be trusted. You shall achieve the pinnacle of success because of your total lack of ethics. You are the perfect son-of-a-bitch. Most Scorpios are murdered. Top

Sagittarius (Nov 23 - Dec 22)
You are optimistic and enthusiastic. You have a reckless tendency to rely on your luck since you have no talent. The majority of Sagittarians are drunks. You are a worthless piece of shit. Top

Capricorn (Dec 23 - Jan 22)
You are conservative and afraid of taking risks. You are basically chicken shit. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance. You should kill yourself. Top

PETA - People Engaged in the Torching of Ants

PETA - People Eating Tasty Animals

The Prototype

I thought I did some stupid things in college. I had no idea what I was in for in my professional life. In a perfect world, my job as an IT professional would be to take manual business processes, analyze how those business processes can be automated and then automate them... In the real world, business users dream up half-balked, hair-brained schemes and request that it be automated yesterday. I will refer to business users from here on out as "they" or "those jackasses"...

A year into my new career, I was still naive, gaining confidence and just finishing rollout of my first project. It had gone out successfully and I was stoked to start something new; until I heard what it was.

They had a "prototype". At first I was happy to hear this until I found out what the process was and what exactly it was that they called a "prototype".

Their idea was to:

1. take high cost, slow moving items out of the retail locations.


2. put these back into distribution centers.


3. use floor models with signage to make customers aware that, while we didn't have the model in stock, it was available from the warehouse and could be there in in couple of days.


4. allow systematic availability checks, reservations, confirmations and order fulfillment.

All in all, this was not too bad of an idea, except that those jackasses had already rolled out the signage and what they called phase 1 by which a prototype 'system' was in place. They accomplished 1-3 above.

For #4, when a customer wanted to order an item:

1. the salesman would call a jackass at the corporate headquarters.


2. the jackass would put the salesman on hold and find out the availability by calling and asking someone at the distribution center.


3. if the item was available, the jackass would tell the salesman to call back when the order had been tendered.


4. the salesman would call the jackass back, letting him know that the order was tendered.


5. the jackass would drive to the distribution center to pickup the item and take it back to the corporate head quarters.


6. the jackass would then UPS the item to the store.


7. finally, the store would receive the item and call the customer for pickup.

I imagined what would have happened if early development of the space program worked this way... JFK announces putting a man on the moon by the end of the decade. Just to get something going, NASA begins feverishly working on the prototype... They'll need a capsule and one BIG-ASS ladder...

And voila: The Prototype!


These guys had The Right Stuff to get From the Earth to the Moon.

PETA - People Enjoy Tormenting Arachnids

I do, anyway...