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mi punjab on the cover being a schoonin’ mutt... as usual • photo: treeb This page is a collage of pics from Treeb, Stinky Tom, and Serb took the one in the upper right.

“let’s start a magazine

to hell with literature we want something red blooded

lousy with pure reeking with stark and fearlessly obscene

but really clean get what I mean let’s not spoil it let’s make it serious

something authentic and delirious you know something genuine like a mark in a toilet

graced with guts and gutted with grace”

squeeze your nuts and open your face ---- E.E. Cummings [page


after two weeks of knowing little robo i dedided i should do some investigating. through closer evalution i found out it is true that he is a robot. not only that, but he has a string on his back that when you pull it he either says, “oi skin up then son,” or “i like marmit on anything, me.”

here’s a few things I would like to call out. Small things, big things, most of all; everything I have grown to hate. I hate music snobs.You know the guys who sit around and tries to name every band they think might make them look cooler for knowing. They’ll look at you all snide with their fake long haired side burns and spiked up dyed black hair in the back telling you how (and this is my favorite one) “I don’t know, man... I like their old stuff better.” I can just picture some prick in ‘70 preaching to his friends how Zepplin’s going down hill and John Bonham lost touch with their bluesey background beats. Well don’t go throwing that guff to your friends kid. Zeplin IV coming out next year. While I’m at it, I also hate fork biters, exclamation marks, The Family Circus, puns and the saying “Now your cooking with gas.” Don’t even get me started on drunk political debates. Just because you lay your hand to the sound of Tom Brokaw’s voice doesn’t mean you have the right to recite the sentence that got you off to everytime you smell a beer. Oh and before I’m done - I hate every French person I have met so far, people that hate too many things, and because of that I now hate irony.

Now your cooking with gas.

With all the things to hate it makes me just want to grab everybody one by one and tell them to wake up. But wait just one second... maybe that’s the problem. Maybe waking up is the exact opposite of what we should do to become happy. Sleeping sounds like a pitiful and somewhat sad way to go through life but just think, if you sleep 7 hrs a night, by the time your 40 you already spent 102,200 hrs. That’s just about 45,134 days. Hell, that’s pretty close to a third of your lifetime. I personally think it’s much more pitiful and very sad to spend a third of your lifetime blowing it. <continued>

poon and goons enjoying the afternoon • photo: treeb





It’s very sad to spend a third of your life blowing it. did you ever notice that donald duck never wears pants but then when he gets out of the shower he puts the towel around his waist? picturing things naked is a good time. mark tomasic superman • photo: treeb

Out there, right now, there are tons of people not blowing it. Some people meditate all day just so they can achieve a more powerful experience while sleeping. The brain is with out a doubt the most powerful thing you can ever control. But how do you control what is going on when your dreaming? Why am I not riding the best trails every night while laying comfy in my bed? Why isn’t that girl with those making out with me and feeding me grapes at the beach? I’m sure many of you have been in a dream, and like the snap of a finger, you realize that you are dreaming. That is what they call a lucid dream. When you have the power to do what you want, ride what you want, make out with who or what you want to make out with... you then have the power of dream controlling. I can only talk about my personal experiences and experiments with this and talk a bit about few others that I have read about. But each person is different. The first thing I have to do is realize that I am dreaming. Try this: as soon as you wake up in the morning look at your wrist watch. Remember what time it is and try to look at your watch at the same minute on the hour, every hour till you go to bed. For myself and everyone I’ve heard about, it is impossible to read a watch or understand numbers while sleeping. So once you train your brain to look at your watch all day you will eventually do it in your sleep. And while sleeping you notice the clock is backwards and mixed up you will realize what’s going on. There are a bunch of different ways to know your sleeping. That is just one that works best for myself. Knowing that your sleeping is the first and biggest step. After that, take your time, try and be observant and go slow. When I first got into this, I would wake up the second I knew I was dreaming and it drove me nuts. Just relax and let <continued>

crazy side biker from a crazy kid. after a crazy eye session? • photo: treeb

go, eventually you can teach yourself to become the master of your universe. He-Man will bow down at the steps of Castle GreySkull for you. There is a lot of controversy on whether or not you can actually control your dreams or just experience it and direct it certain ways. But most everyone agrees that it is up to the individual how far you can take it.

He-Man will bow down at the steps of Castle GreySkull. The best thing you can do is keep a journal for yourself and write in it the second you wake up. This will get you to think about what happened and give you time to figure out ways to control it the next time it comes around. Party with the Stones, high five Michael J. Fox when he is doing back flips on the roof of his car in Teen-Wolf, fly around your town shitting on pigeons, whatever you want to do, figure out a way to do it. If your anything like me you have been told your whole life you can be anything and do anything. But then one day you look in the mirror and realize you can’t add, sing, dance or make girls laugh. Well there is hope my friends. Last night I did calculus while winning American Idol for tap dancing on that two-faced Kelly Clarkson. <the end>

chris dial otherwise know as chris doyle’s psuedo-twin • photo: treeb



a stranger came up to me and whispered something in my ear. the stranger told the tails of many a time tazzy lee put him in a head lock, stared in his eye, smiled an evil smile and then gave him the worst ass kicking he ever received. i paused for a moment and then asked the stranger his name. son, he said, my name is not important, you can know me as every thing tazzy lee sees.

In a hobby that most of us got into by jumping a cinder block and a couple of two by fours; not a lot has changed. From FBM Ghetto Comps to kids in some alley building a wall ride out of whatever was in the dumpster next to it. Water logged wood and tetanus dwelling metal always make for a funny and good time. Some places have taken it a little further and made entire parks out of every left over piece of anything within a ten mile radius. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s almost funny when you take a look at places in California and you see kids riding all these little concrete parks with the lights. They get shut down for two days if it rains so no <continued>

one will get hurt. I just laugh and think of all the rodents running around Northampton, Pennsylvania making wooden obstacles you wouldn’t let any person over one hundred pounds do a jumping jack on. I’m not even saying this to try to make it seem like a bad thing. I personally love it. Those ramps that I am talking about have so much personality to them. From all the sketchy people that go there to the sketchier transitions. Ramps that were once a curved wall rides that became a spine that is now a vert quarter. It becomes a completely different kind of riding when you are struggling to go up and down the quarter without your elbows buckling into your stomach, then when you are trying to learn some kind of crazy body maneuver six feet over the top. I used to work at this concrete plant with all these older crazy guys. I’ll never forget the time the one driver asked me to drive the welding truck to this work sight. The welding truck had no floor and you could see the road while you drove. Every time it rained you would come out soaked. The doors where rusted through and there were only one or two gears the thing would even go into. So any time you had to go in reverse you had to get out and push. Anyway, this guy asked me to drive the truck across town, alone. It was my first [page





chase isn’t high. chase is low. a pict ure says a thousand words, and all i got were two lies • opposite - mor gan mattia • photos: treeb

time ever touching the thing. I told him he had to be nuts because I was going to die. He looked me right in the eye and told me, “Listen, any pussy can drive a truck that works, you get this thing under your belt and everything else will be easy.” That is kind of how I see riding make-shift old ramps. You learn to stall a five foot tall ramp made out of shopping carts and pressure treated cardboard and I can guarantee you can do what ever you want on a five foot tall ramp at an actual skate park. That doesn’t even get into the difference in scenes between a yard ramp and a skate park. You can probably imagine the difference in the type of person who pays ten bucks to be at a park and the type of person who goes to some ramps because it’s the most inconspicuous place to do anything they want. You might be surprised to see what you can get away with in the shadows of a pile of wood. Meanwhile, being surrounded by a bunch of kids that look like criminals when they help an old lady cross the street. So in conclusion to a rather pointless story; go out and build something stupid out of wood. Then change it the next day and make sure to rip all the nails half way out and leave them next to another ramp. Paying to go to a skate park every day is stupid. Landing on nails and falling through rotten wood is fun. Break yo’ self. <the end>

opposite - eddy krashniak showing the plundgers • right to left then top to bottom - joe saksa, joe saksa, chris stauffer, dan ruhe, ramps, chris stauffer, dave maloney, brian barnhardt, eddie krashniak, doors • photos: treeb, brian barnhardt and someone who took a picture of brian barnhardt assuming brian barnhardt isn’t incredibly fast



The idea is as simple as it gets. Videos are cool. Magazines are cool. This is what happens when you combine the two things. Like if you were to put a bottle of Crow in a room along a case of Lions. But instead of it being your room it is actually your stomach. It’s gonna’ hit you son. I tried picking songs I thought fit with the guys in the picture next to them. Except the picture of Jay Crossin. Jay is kick ass, maybe even too kick ass for a song. Myself, and I am sure many of you reading this, always wanted to know the words to that damn R.E.M. song. One more dumb way to show some good riding. - enjoy • photos: treeb



ell, I set my monkey on the log And ordered him to do the Dog He wagged his tail and shook his head And he went and did the Cat instead He’s a weird monkey, very funky.

I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist And my wig-hat was falling in my face But they wouldn’t let me on the tennis court. I gotta woman, she’s so mean She sticks my boots in the washing machine Sticks me with buckshot when I’m nude Puts bubble gum in my food She’s funny, wants my money, calls me “honey.” Now I gotta friend who spends his life Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife Dreams of strangling me with a scarf When my name comes up he pretends to barf. I’ve got a million friends! Now they asked me to read a poem At the sorority sister’s home I got knocked down and my head was swimmin’ I wound up with the Dean of Women Yippee! I’m a poet, and I know it. Hope I don’t blow it. I’m gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange So I look like a walking mountain range And I’m gonna ride into Omaha on a horse Out to the country club and the golf course. Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds. Now you’re probably wondering by now Just what this song is all about What’s probably got you baffled more Is what this thing here is for. It’s nothing It’s something I learned over in England. -- Bob Dylan


twenty one]


The Battle Of Evermore

ueen of Light took her bow, And then she turned to go, The T he Prince of Peace embraced the gloom, And walked the night alone. Oh, dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light. The dark Lord rides in force tonight, And time will tell us all. Oh, throw down your plow and hoe, Rest not to lock your homes. Side by side we wait the might of the darkest of them all. I hear the horses’ thunder down in the valley below, I’m waiting for the angels of Avalon, waiting for the eastern glow. The apples of the valley hold, The seeds of happiness, The ground is rich from tender care, Repay, do not forget, no, no. Dance in the dark of night, sing to the morning light. The apples turn to brown and black, The tyrant’s face is red. Oh the war is common cry, Pick up you swords and fly. The sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know. Oh, well, the night is long the beads of time pass slow, Tired eyes on the sunrise, waiting for the eastern glow. The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath, The drums will shake the castle wall, the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on. Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before. No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold. Oh dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light. The magic runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back. Bring it back. At last the sun is shining, The clouds of blue roll by, With flames from the dragon of darkness, the sunlight blinds his eyes -- Page/ & Plant


Country Trash

got a crib full of corn, and a turnin’ plow But the grounds to wet for the hopper now. Got a cultivator and a double tree A leather line for the hull and gee Let the thunder roll and the lighting flash I’m doing alright for Country Trash

I’m saving up dimes for a rainy day I got about a dollar laid away The winds from the south and the fishings good Got a pot belly stove a quart of wood Mama turns the left-overs into hash I’m doing alright for Country Trash I got a machina and a hunting dog A cap I ordered from the catalog A good tall tree that shades the yard A good fat sow for the winters lard Let the thunder roll and the lighting flash I’m doing alright for Country Trash Well there’s not much new ground left to plow And the crops need fertilizer now My hands don’t earn me too much gold For security when I grow old But we’ll all be equal under the grass And God’s got a heaven for Country Trash And God’s got a heaven for Country Trash I’ll be doing alright for Country Trash -- Johnny Cash


twenty four]

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It


hat’s great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn world serves its own needs, don’t misserve your own needs. Feed it up a knock, speed, grunt no, strength no. Ladder structure clatter with fear of height, down height. Wire in a fire, represent the seven games in a government for hire and a combat site. Left her, wasn’t coming in a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck. Team by team reporters baffled, trump, tethered crop. Look at that low plane! Fine then. Uh oh, overflow, population, common group, but it’ll do. Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed. Tell me with the rapture and the reverent in the right - right. You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. Six o’clock - TV hour. Don’t get caught in foreign tower. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn. Lock him in uniform and book burning, blood letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate. Light a candle, light a motive. Step down, step down. Watch a heel crush, crush. Uh oh, this means no fear - cavalier. Renegade and steer clear! A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mountains sit in a line. Leonard Bernstein. Leonid Breshnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You symbiotic, patriotic, slam, but neck, right? Right. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine...fine... (It’s time I had some time alone) -- Michael Stipe’s <the end>

Where did you come up with the idea to start a T-shirt company? Well it’s never been done before so we thought we should be the first. (laughter) Actually, we just make a bunch of shit. We started out spray painting Tshirts and just tagging stuff. It just turned into something that made us happy to make. Stickers, posters, box car race themes, whatever. The idea of another BMX company is kind of played out at this point. Why another one?

foster brings team fit back up one point with this bubba scrub • photo: treeb

The way I see it we’ve been making Axelrad stuff for years for just friends and people that like what they saw and were into shredding. Basically it just gives us something to do. If you like it, it just makes us want to do more things which is better than doing nothing.

two pics of robbo smokin â&#x20AC;˘ photos: jill evans


twenty nine]

with the right pair of eyes, jai bone’s magic carpet actually looks like a bike sometimes • pho dave king tries to readjust the weight of his head and accidently gets into a tabe • photo: keck kicks so much ass that when he did this i actually heard the leaves laughing • pho

oto: barhhardt : barhhardt oto: treeb

Is there anything that you guys are doing different than other BMX companies out there? First of all I don’t really see us as a BMX company. There are a couple of us that contribute to Axelrad that I see as the best friends in the world. Not all of us ride BMX, or have alot of things in common on the surface. Axelrad is just a bunch of things that kind of symbolize a better way of thinking in life. Shred the shit out of whatever. Artwork is expressive so you can’t go wrong and so is BMX. You can’t drink too much or laugh too loud. There is a million people that are dying right this second that wish they could go back and give it hell. That was an emotional speach. Do you want to say anything else before you start crying? No that is pretty much the lock and stock of it. Hope you enjoy the first issue of Dust even though we couldn’t get it together to get it on paper. Get some Axelrad shit and live it if you want. Thanks.


thirty three]

Good Afternoon and welcome to BMX News Watch 16. Here to Report the news is Edgar. We will start today’s segment with a rare sighting on the other side of the lake. Early this morning, off the coast of Mooshie-Mooshy a few eye-witness dock workers reported a giant gorilla-like creature attacking their small village. Those of you who are familiar, know this gorilla looks identical to Jeremy “Magilla” Reiss. So we went to his home in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania to ask some questions. When confronted with questions about these acusations Magilla denied everything, but then continued to say that, quote “if you don’t leave me alone I will grow and destroy more small villages.” I guess we will never really know if it was him or not.

In unrealated news, local legend, Derek Girard had a contest with Nutter to see who could live the longest off eating nothing but dough. Three weeks into the contest Nutter just giggled and Derek started sweating dough through his pores. I met with the two competitors for a Thanksgiving dinner late November. Derek said he would never try anything that foolish again and Nutter ignored me and politely asked for me to “pass the dough.”

All of us here at BMX News Watch 16 want to send out a special congratulations to Chase and his hand for giving birth to a healthy 9 lb. 6 oz. baby boy. When we finally met up with Chase to see how everything was going as a new dad he said it was a real eye opener. He also mumbled under his breath that the kid better learn to “puff puff pass or else he gonna open his neck.” All of us here just want to say good luck and best wishes to Chase and his new family.

Now we turn the news over to Edgar II to cover the latest in science breakthrough. Due to bleeding heart sissy huggers; cloning has become a very contriversial issue in the U.S.A. But our neighbors to the north had no moral quaums to cover the issue. August 5, 2006. The first recorded event of complete and total human cloning. When strapped for cash due to a minor porn addiction a young David King offered his body up to science. He will forever be remebered as the first person to ever get successfully cloned, 21 times. When reporters asked the scientist why they did such a morally unethical procedure, they said it was for the good of science to explore every possibility. They were then asked why they feel they can play God. The scientists scoffed and giggled out their response. “Do you really think God had anything to do with the original Dave King?”

Well folks, this brings us to the close to yet another ther night with BMX News W Watch 16. Edgar signing off, and always ys remember America: News comes and news goes but Edgar never dies.

Dust Journal  

BMX Journal with an emphasis on good times