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Gypsies that live in the suburbs of Sofia love to put their own personal paintjobs on their vehicles



2010 enrolled at UMelbourne School of Design 2009-2010 enrolled at Ontario College of Art & Design 2006-2009 living with gypsies in the Balkans, Palestine and the foothills of Fort James 2002-2006 B.Sc Geography - McGill Universty, Montreal, Qc 1998-2002 High School Diploma - De La Salle College Toronto, Ont 1991-1995 Time spent as the new kid in a bunch of schools around Frankfurt 1988-1991 Showed my dink to a bunch of girls in kindergarden in Zagreb


English spoken as fluent as the torrents that pour over Niagara falls German spoken as fluent as the river Rhein as it swells into the Danube Croatian spoken as fluent as the torrent of toiletwater flows into the Sava French spoken as basic as the Quebecoise speak it at 3 am with mouthfulls of Poutine Spanish spoken as smooth as a Mexican squeezing out a darkie

Dan Pollak Dorocic 932 King St. W Toronto, Ontario M4W 2V9 Tel: 647 339 3134 26/04/1984



Making stopmotion, films, photos, illustrations, art with:

China Japan Indonesia Australia Thailand Egypt Israel palestine Turkey Serbia Bosnia Croatia Czech Germany Denmark Sweden Norway

Adobe Photoshop Adobe Illustrator Adobe Premier Adobe Indesign Dreamweaver GIS (Desktop) ArcGIS GISviewer GISeditor GISanalyst Spatial Database Managment Systems Idrisi SPSS Powerpoint Final Cut Pro

Finland Spain France Italy United Kingdom Switzerland Austria Bulgaria USA Panama Costa rica Barbados Grenada St.Kitts BVI Cuba


Was Jesus just a nice guy, concerned with our souls burning in dammnation, or is he really a homo perv who likes to watch me pee? It all depends on where you live.

Parachute soldiers are just an awesome metaphor for life because you expect so much of them when you throw them up in the air, but then they just get tangled in their threads and plummet to the ground.

Since I am the only employee employeed by powers unknown to plagirize my own issue of Vice in order to get work and slave for free and get ordered around to bring coffee and burritos to sarcastic monkeys renders this paragrah pretty much obsolete.

Hot sauce from Barbados is hands down the most important contributor of the month, because without those long searingly painful fire shits, I never would have come up with the idea to waste days on end making a stupid fake Vice Issue to no end.


I dont care who you are or what the general social trends are but smoking and war are going to be cool forever.

Sometimes throwing up gang signs has the opposite effect, it doesn’t make me not wanna fuck with you, it makes me want to fuck you.

Even when you are 100 years old and have been living in a warzone for the past 60 years getting bombed and shot at by the IDF, a puff of the old tobacco pipe makes you the coolest kid on the block.

Is that the same cigarette from the first photo?

When you go to a party you need to rememeber to keep your poker face together. If you like a girl next to you, you have to keep a straight face and give away nothing.

t z c h

check out :


Wearing your house and car keys with a flashlight and a swiss army knife around your neck while being obsessed with drinking plasticbottled water is worse than solely surviving off burgers.

Cyclops puppies are extremely frightening looking from the wrong side, they don’t smoke, they probably prefer sleeping over fighting, and they need to grow up into rabid killers a little quicker.

On the other hand, being nature-loving, hichikking smug and smelly hippie only gives you the illusion that you are not part of the problem. Planting trees is only going to solve the pine-beetles’ starvation problem.

Puerto Rican Hairdressers in New York need to start distinguishing between their ass and tits.

It does, however, work like a great pantyremover charm, so why not exploit it to the fullest extent? Bigfoot Sweater.

It’s sad when the best part of the party was when you finally get to the washroom after an hour of waiting in line. Why didn’t you just go wizz outside?

Karton Sity

A haven for gypsies and meddlers


Me, and my faithful companion Tobias Fischer are no stingy travelers as most of our friends assume. No, not by any means do we skimp on adventure. Here is an account of not the usual lush and lavish landscape of exotic distant lands but a more ragged encounter . We undertook a trip of overbearing scope as we decided to hitchhike (stick out your thumb) and Couchsurf ( around the diverse peninsula of the Balkans last autumn. As you might imagine, we encountered numerous freaks and partook in some grand adventures. We started this Balkan Odyssey in Zagreb, Croatia and worked our way eastward into Bosnia. After dozens of kilometers of dragging our feet, a few weird conversations with truckers, an encounter with a busload of Japanese tourists and spending a frigid night homeless on the streets of a chilly Mostar, we had made it to Sarajevo, the heart of the Ottoman Turk influence left in the Balkans, and a real gem. We immediately fell in love with the Bosnian Kafa (basically turkish coffee), delicious Burek and Cevapcici (local eats), the architecture (dotted with bullet holes), aesthetics and smells akin to Istanbul. After a few attempted pickpocketings, we most importantly became infatuated with the local pests: the gypsies (more P.C. - the Roma).

In fact we decided unconsciously that we would become a sort of Marsh and Cope - a Watson and Crick (passiveaggressive scientists) of the Roma world- thus the gypsies became our subjects. We ventured deeper into the Balkan abyss and into Serbia (being a Croat, mind darkening upon the mere pronunciation of the name), where we found in the capital of Beograd, the largest concentration of gypsies, delicious street meat, cool youngsters and crumbling buildings (some literally rubble from some US bombings). All our new friends sent us to:

Karton Sity, the shantytown, resembling a Brazilian favela, was downtown for gypsy Beograd and was found in the outskirts of the regular-taxpaying-citizen Beograd. We chose to explore this place, a nefarious yet alluring location of enchantment. Located in the Novi Beograd area, this suburb of Beograd proper was known for its cheap student housing and a recent influx of Chinese immigrants. Tram #9 from the railway station across the Sava takes you straight there. Cutting through a rural-looking unpaved little ‘alley’, it brought us to the Gazella Bridge. Under the underbelly of this main artery of traffic in and out of the city (which if you travel to Beograd by train or car, you will surely pass) was an area littered with the homes of as many as a thousand gypsies, although the number we got was unofficial as it was an illegal settlement. The Roma gypsies didn’t enter the system nor did they care about how many of them were there (nor can they count). Recently it has been reported that 986 people in 176 families lived in this shantytown. The Beograd neighborhood scheduled as the landing site of a new fenced ‘ghetto’ for the expelled gypsies complained about taking them in, stating that such a ghetto in the area would depreciate their property. After a lot of racial slandering and name-calling, in May of 2009, the Roma families were given a 45-day notice of their eviction out of their homes near city center.

The dismantling of the shantytown eventually relocated these Roma families into temporary homes fashioned from shipping Containers scattered around the 5 municipalities of Beograd, or returned to their towns of origin if known. The main concern for the city of Beograd was that Karton Sity was located on prime real estate right on the waterfront of the Sava River. It took the city 4 years to finally go through with the “relocation” of the poor Roma. The Roma that do remain in the Beograd area are offered some social assistance, under the condition that their children attend school.

When we finally did start snooping around the settlement, we attracted the attention of some kids playing in the garbage. They waved at us. We had our in! We happily scurried over the street to befriend them, our expensive camera on hand. As we sat down on the ground they laughed that we were sitting in garbage. Their keen senses of distinguishing between “garbage” and “landscape” were definitely much more honed than ours. We talked about such broad topics as hygiene, lice shampoo, drug abuse, infant mortality (most were orphans who lost many siblings to disease), world geography and crime. Vera (12), the eldest, was the leader, and practically spoon-fed us everything we wanted to hear. Social ladders were very well developed, as all the children parented each other -with slaps across the back of the head.

The little children charmed us but we were also aghast at the rift that existed between us. They, not attending school, had no perceptions of the world outside. They knew very little of Europe and labeled us as Germans, not to mention they could not even conceive of where Canada was located. Most amazing was how mature they appeared for little children. On the other hand, they were floored by our old age (24 and 25), and even more shocked that we had 50-something year old parents, the children having very little adult influence. Having to deal with the harsh realities of their environment, made them grow up much quicker. Vera was very familiar and even ashamed of the prostitutes hanging around the slum.

By the end of our encounter, we were so thrilled with the little gypsy children, and they with us, that we made plans to come back and visit again the next day. It was an amazing insight into the very real and harsh lifestyle of the Roma community in Beograd, and really made us appreciate our cushy upbringing and life at home.

The Roma laugh at the norms of society, they laugh at schooling, paying taxes, social customs, government laws, and the system in general. I guess that’s why the locals really don’t appreciate them and label the Roma as pest. When in reality the real pests are the western, overprotected, overimburse, overpriveliged 16 year old hipster teens.

All photographs by Toby Pikelin

Hussaini is wearing a cloth (Cario Apparel)and a camel (Abdullah’s)

VICE FASHION I don’t know about Middle Eastern traffic enforcement, their economic system and their religion problem, but they got their fashion right.

Hussain’s Camel is wearing a saddle and rug by Ashraf VICE FASHION


Mahnmout is wearing an AK-47 (Sovier Forces) and military slacks ( Hamas)


These Hasids are wearing Pants and Shirts by Hramha


PLEASE DONT SUSCRIBE these are all fake Issues of Dan Vice, so don’t suscribe because this is way too much work and I’m not making any more, but look at the possibilities:

sucks balls. I got these shorts from my uncle’s closet.

VICE Dan  

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