find the secret message on this page for your chance to win! 4 i’m just sayin’s all
18 fishin’ in the dark
32 cream your pants
5 these dudes think they’re hot shit
38 free stuff feels more cozy
16 fuck you, man!
28 tats for tots
40 mayhew gets wasted
37 tales from the crapper
26 socal sewage
25 doug diggler gets down
10 livin’ on a prayer
Eric Fletcher pleases the all seeing eye with this switch flip offering.
Skunk Skateboard Magazine Spring 2006 Volume 2, Issue 1 Jack Boyd Editor Former Field Reporter for the Dow Jones Industrial Crumhole
Nikki Townsend Managing Editor Supplier of Blueberries for potential Alzheimer Victims
Luke Hunt Art Director Ain’t takin’ “No” for an answer
Sam McGuire Staff Photographer
Contributing Writers Joe Penn Todd Bratrud Seth McCallum Kyle Bunker
Contributing Illustrator Evil Pat ©2006 Skunk Skateboard Magazine™ Contact us at PO Box 16604 Duluth, MN 55816 www.skunk-mag.com
Staple Gun Publishing™
Jack Hegerle Staff Illustrator
Dan Jackson, frontside ollie, inside a game of asteroids.
Like staying on a printing schedule kind of shit. You would think that putting a new issue out every three months would be a walk in the park. It’s non-stop hustle and although I don’t approve of hustlers, there are no complaints.
man, the months fly by when you got shit to do.
The response from our last issue has been rad. It’s good to see all the hard work that Luke, Sam and Nikki put in get recognized and complimented. I’m sure that they’re all psyched knowing that their celebrity is growing with each offering, as well as the options for groupies, gang bangs and wild nights full of decadence and evil doings. As you’ll see, we’re trying to infiltrate a few new programs within the culture (sorry, I know that word blows). In this issue we are proud to introduce you to the Dudes w/o Dads movement that is sure to sweep our crumbling nation. You would be surprised if you knew how many of your idols, former idols, work mates and fellow stunt boarders share your abandonment issues. At SKUNK we are all firm believers in contributing good to the world, so this is our magazine’s first of many contributions to skateboarding, you and your mother. Jack Boyd
You know its Midwest when you see pines instead of palms, Ben Ragsdale rooftop nollie heelflip.
Even Chuck Norris was hyped on Nick Rileyâ€™s tre flip.
The owner of this sculpture chose to tuck it away in the corner of a parking lot. Mike Guy appreciates the arts with a backside heelflip
jackson roman frontside 270 onto the foot of an AT-AT.
Donny Brasco dropped his briefcase on these steps seconds before Donny Bandy did this frontside 5.0
sam mcguire Anthony Hart frontside nollies a nuttable bar.
hell on wheels interview with shitbird, director of the new jason jessee documentary, pray for me
I got pretty excited when I first came to learn that there was a new documentary being shot on the life and times of Jason Jessee. I don’t even know that much about the guy besides that he reminds me of one of my “cool” uncles. You know, the ones that get you drunk for the first time, give you cigarettes when your 13 and tell you about shit that you probably shouldn’t know about yet. And of course beat your ass and spit in your mouth when they catch wind that you called your mom a bitch. Remember, that’s their sister. So, on the “uncle” basis alone, I’ve always had an admiration for him aside from the frontside airs, motorcycle gang affiliations and the one-liners he’s known for dropping in random situations. With the documentaries still being a fairly new commodity in skateboarding, I was curious to find out who was going to be responsible for this particular undertaking. Whoever it was I felt confident that they were headed up crap creek, paddle-less, without even knowing it yet. I may not know much about Jason but I do know that he’s rather intimidating and can put some things in your head that would probably drive a sane person dead. So with an honest fear for the lackey (and their family and friends), I awaited a response from whoever was on the receiving end of the e-mail I had sent to the film’s official website. I didn’t have to wait too long before I was met with a response by a man who simply referred to himself as Shitbird. Aside from ruining his life (and as I suspected his family and friends) with the filming of this documentary, he’s also a company owner, team manager and a damn mean looking skateboarder. I got the impression from our e-mail correspondence that he has that lunatic air to him and was probably the only person on this planet that was capable of pulling off this project. You know the old “takes one to know one theory”? Whatever your take on the film, Shitbird or Jason Jessee I think it’s safe to say that Dave Rogerson (his real name mind you) has just kicked in the door and and taken a shit next to the keg. Pray for us all… Jack Boyd
How did you deciding to film this documentary come about? Well, when you don’t do drugs...you fuck up in other ways....these str8edge dudes tell you how good it is to not have all the baggage of drugs/alcohol, to have control of your thoughts and actions...FUCK! Those bastards don’t bother to clue you in that you will be alone with your madness. SHIT! So, I am a sick fucker, and this is the result...I am dragging you all with me to the land of mental issues. Is “Pray for Me” your first film? Yep...I had it in my mind for years and a neighbor at my tattoo shop heard me babbling about it, and introduced Nemi and I, and he liked what he heard, never knowing what a hell ride he was in for. We have been ace-boon world traveling compadres ever since. This is just the beginning. We have other docs we can do, and screenplays ready to rock if we get the nod and money to do so from a studio. All I know is Nemi and I are like Peanut Butter and Jelly. Just hand in glove...where one is weak, the other is strong, our teamwork is unparallel. He’s a hero, and we are just getting started....he’s really skunk10
a genius. I am honored to work with him, and to deliver a strong film. I really hope you all enjoy it. For fools that don’t know any better why Jason Jessee? I am a skateboard historian in my spare time and it’s basically Torger Johnson, Jay Adams, DP, and Jason....those are the gnarlers through the ages. I love Salba, Grosso, Shogo, and a ton of others throughout skating, plenty of heads who didn’t get their due...Dan Wilkes-types. Great riders with no love... but, there are only a HANDFUL of just genuinely SCARY skateboarders. Jason is among the MOST scary...just fulfilling the bionic death-ride dream. He died so we could ride. How did you guys first meet? We were phone lovers...and then the stalking got to be too much...so, he decided to be my friend. Being friends with Jason also entails being enemies with Jason. So, there’s romance...hatred, resentment, and tearful reconciliations. Full spectrum.
Was there a lot of legality bullshit to deal with like copyright issues or just the usual red tape that comes along with such a project? Oh yeah, a lot of shit but even more blessings. Countless folks have opened their archives...Herb Fletcher, the Jessee family, the Dukes Car Club, Vince Everly. A lot of heroic figures. I am addicted to photography, and the photographers who have contributed are just staggering.... Grant Brittan, Ted Terrebone, Jay Watson, Jonathan Hay, Stecyk, Dan Sturt, Steve Keenan, Jim Cassimus, Jon Yunker, and many more. Right now, we are just going with it and trying to get all the musical clearances. There are a few dozen to work with and I am just crossing my fingers and being honest. As far as copyrights actually being a problem.... we’ll see. Though I am the producer, I don’t really do lawyers. I am just honest and keep my word and it generally serves me well. I am a positive person, and always highlight the positive and try to de-acknowledge the negative and I think that shows in the film. People like Ian Mackay are really being cool and helpful, and others are responding, so I hope that’s a reflection that I am trying to promote everyone’s work and not be a rip-off, or selfish in anyway. I’ve been hearing from people that have caught the sneak preview that this is probably the best skateboard-related documentary that’s ever been done. Has the response been that good so far?
You had mentioned to me before that your not aiming to make the film a skate focused thing because you feel that the industry has nothing to offer as well as feeling like there isn’t a place for you and the film within it anyway. Care to explain where your coming from? Okay...the only thing worse than skateboarders is the skateboard industry. FUCK THE SKATEBOARD INDUSTRY They do NOT care about you or anyone else. Fuck them. I say this as a skater and as a person who creates product for skaters. Why the fuck did I have to even fuck my life up making wheels?’ Because no one cared that we were riding on chalk bearing-condoms, or spending big bucks on eBay to score fifteen year old Speed Wheels. So, I had to make some fucking wheels and taint my life with slanging skate product. EVERYTHING except the actual riding of skateboards is totally BUNK. RIGHT NOW, if you are thinking of making some boards, shirts, whatever, HAVE FUN because you are about to ruin everything you love about skating. So, as much distain as I have for the industry I see why they have to do what they do and in understanding it, I too am infected and horrible. Like when some fuckheads move in the house next-door and you just made your massive mortgage payment. Being all ‘equal’ and ‘tolerant’ sounds great when you are a renter and have nothing to lose. Become part of the established community and you will be NIMBY quicker than fuck. I talk a lot of shit but truth be know, I have sympathy for a lot of these poor fuckers who have been in the industry too long and they don’t care about me and they can’t do shit for my film. And that’s nice because it’s a FILM, not a skate video and Jason is way more than a skateboarder. So, it’s fine that no one cares because I don’t either.
That’s fucking killer...I have ruined my life and the lives of my partner, Steve Nemsick, and my wife, the Duchess, dragging them into my sickness. I roll the fucking dice EVERYDAY. This is a huge crap shoot and to have everyone fired-up on it with photo’s supplied by shitbird just the rough cut we showed is really gratifying. It’s a humbling experience to ruin your life and make something emotional, and beautiful. Like George Jones or a true hero...but, You’re more well known for your skateboard company, it’s a LOT of film craft, and the visual genius of Nemi and my Shitbird. What was the motivation behind starting that? knowledge of skating and my networking abilities, all riding Pretty much a lack of gear. No midsize deep concave decks, on Jason’s personality. It’s really ALL Jason. The good, the no fast wheels in the 60mm plus size so, fuck it. I just opened bad, the insane...his life, his family, his triumph, his tragedy. up Pandora’s box. You can still see us at shitbird.net, but He’s been waiting and documenting his whole life for the actually I have changed the wheels over to SPEEDLAB WHEELS movie version. Truly he has and here we are doing a kick and they will be at speedlabwheels.com this year. We picked ass job. We are all three really happy and stoked with it. up Holly Lyons and Lexi Barkley, as I have wanted a strong Like I say...it’s the first FILM to be done so it’s much more women’s team from the gate and now we have the two best involved and visually lush. I honestly feel really bad for everywomen skaters anchoring SPEEDLAB, and we are going full one else who has made a skate-related movie...it’s not fair. speed into ‘06 and beyond. I am a TEAM with Nemi and we are just unstoppable.
Any legal threats from another wheel manufacturer regarding your wheel company Shitfire? Actually, no. It was just me fucking around and wanting some wheels and doing it in jest and DAMN it took-off. To Fausto and Deluxe’s credit, they didn’t say shit and I don’t know if they were pissed or not, but I never heard anything about it. That is why I decided to change it to SPEEDLAB. They were sports and I had my fun and it’s just time to move-on, as we have become our own entity and not just a fluke or a joke. So, if anyone from Deluxe is reading this...”Thanks, Fausto for not pissing on my fun”. How did Shitbird come to be Shitbird? What was your scenery like growing up as a kid? I grew up in the Mojave Desert in SoCal. I got my first clay wheeled deck at six. I rode three clay wheeled decks before I graduated to urethane. We rode the streets and when they started building parks my Pops took my older brother RJ and I down to LA to ride ‘em. We were naturals and took to that shit really quickly. My brother was a really good rider in the older parks. Then me being small and nuts, I kinda took off when the newer parks came on and had pools. I just went for it. I wasn’t put-off by the older rippers like he was. I was so much younger but they were cool to me and would help me get bowls wired and I felt like a star for the day. I would live off of that for months, until the next trip down then I would just go nuts with all of the tricks I had dreamed about while reading Skateboarder and living my daily shitty life. Skate parks were to me like being a dishwasher by day and rock star by night. My daily life sucked and the kids at school had no clue the fucking nerd with the cowlick was a fucking ripper…that when I hit the park with my Z-Flex, it was ON and people would stop skating to watch me give it everything I had. Then it was back to school and all the lame shit. No one skated but my brother and I so no one had any idea what was up. I lived for that one day. That’s what I hold in my heart, is the passion for rolling on the wood. The rest of it is painful...the industry and the bullshit people. I make my wheels because they are the best and I love to go fast. I am not a gnarler by any stretch but, I still LOVE to skate and that’s why I do SPEEDLAB wheels...to HAUL ASS. I should be doing wood again next year, I just had to take a break on something while doing this film and the wood was just tedious at the time. But, the wheels are doing really well and my team is sick: Knox, Inouye, Lyons, Barckley, Kubo and the Godoy’s among others.
dry ‘documentary’ side. This fucker is JUICY and fucking gnarly, like Jason and you can’t quit watching it. Is there anything you see that’s happening in this day and age that you deem worthy of making it into the skateboarding’s history? What do you think of the shit Danny Way is doing? Oh, most definitely. I think it’s obvious that the technical/gnar factor is WAY up. People of my era are not in tune with it and I think to an extent, dismiss it out of a lack of understanding. There are a whole crop of gnarlers due to all of the new ‘crete being poured around the world. Young kids who skate it all and just destroy. Girls coming up strong; I have been wanting that development to open up for years and now they are here, KILLING IT. It’s cool women are badass and I am glad to see them step-up and have fun skating. Danny Way is an alien. What he does is so beyond just skating. There are people like that once in a lifetime...Jordans, Hoffmans, just titans. Any skateboarders out there today that you feel are worth a damn? So many new up and coming rippers, just sick. My cousin, Chris Wiggins is sick....Holly Lyons, Lexi Barckley, Jonny Manak and all of the ones who never quit. Olson, Kubo, Inouye, DP, Salba all the heroes. TNT is just beyond words...he is the latest jewel in the crown. You had Jayboy, DP, Jessee and now, TNT. Then there are the gnarlers...Hewitt, Bailey, Naverette, the post-Jason big guns that are just beyond burly. Manly skating. Do you have list of dates and locations where you’ll be showing the film? We are screening in Malmo, Sweden on April 15th and Frankfurt, Germany April 22nd. We will have some private screenings with limited tickets to the public in LA soon and we are looking into some private screenings in other cities including NYC. IF you want to fly us out and you have a theater, LET’S TALK. We are only doing private screenings this summer/fall, as we are entering into international film festivals and they are very concerned with it having been screened in other venues. Look for it in the internationals and we hope to have a deal with a major studio by early next year sometime. No hurry, as we are looking for the right deal that will allow us to have a supreme home package with extra discs for all the crazy shit that didn’t make it into the final cut and links to everyone who helped us along the way.
Are there any documentaries or filmmakers outside of the skate industry whose work or films are worth mentioning?
You got a list of people that you would like to thank? Usually, we don’t do these but in this case I figured that you have a lot of people backing you...
I tend to dig shitty ones. The ones that are made about fucking nut jobs; “Dancing Outlaw”, classic shit like that. Les Blank makes some good ones. They are off the wall and not high on the quality scale technically, but are fun to watch because of the subject matter. You can check him at lesblank.com. On the pro-tip, Scorsese’s “No Direction Home” Bob Dylan piece was pretty hot. Michael Moore? C’mon. In our production we were more concerned with the overall quality and watchability. You are going to watch this fucker again and again and love the one-liners, repeating ‘em to your friends. It’s really a cultural piece and it will rub-off on everyone who watches it. So, we approached it from a ‘movie’ stance rather than the typical,
I would like to thank Nemi, my partner for just kicking ass, my wife Evelyn for all her support during really hard times, Jason for fighting with us for a year and a half then realizing we were true, his family, all we interviewed…so many went above and beyond and are great friends of mine personally. Motoyan and everyone in Japan, they are the greatest. Sean Dana our graphics genius, Big World for the theme song, Mark at SLAP, CW mag and everyone like yourself here at SKUNK who have given us the ink to tell the story. I most humbly thank you. So many greats stepped up to the plate and just gave us gold, we cannot thank y’all enough!
the gospel according to shitbird: pray vs. the others Stacy Peralta’s “Dogtown and the Z Boys” Overall, it’s pretty fucking good. I know most of the subjects and I have heard all the gossip throughout the making until today. So, I had my thoughts on Stacy and the film... rather cynical and critical. Now that I have made my film and we are in the final stages FUCK, Stacy did a good job. It’s really hard to pull all of the elements together to A, tell a story B, entertain C, be able to sell it and have it reach the public and D, stand the test of time. Tough to do...so, Stacy has a lot of respect in my corner. Everyone wants to second guess you as a director and producer....”Why didn’t you talk more about meeee?!!” It’s just lame. I had Jason’s wife all up my ass to keep her out of this film, just battling my partner and me every step of the way. Real combative the whole time. Well, she’s at a screener and she fucking cries! “Bwwwwwaaaaaaahhhh!! It’s like I NEVER EXISTED... Whaaaaaaaaaaa!!!” I am standing there just laughing. I mean what the fuck can you do? Someone is always gonna have a bitch and if they didn’t you’d be making an episode of Sesame Street, right?
Helen Stickler’s “Stoked: The Rise and Fall of Gator” From a filmmaker’s perspective it’s just too linear and we don’t really get to know Gator. We hear about him but don’t get to know about his nature and where he came from. I know it’s tough to do in a little over an hour, but I found it hard to watch. The interviews weren’t set up well, were lit badly or not at all and she wasn’t a skater, so it showed in the interviews that she had a limited knowledge of the subject. She busted her ass and brought it in though and that says a lot. You can take your happy ass down to Best Buy today and get a copy and that speaks volumes. She got her inspiration and worked her ass off to follow through and make it happen, so props to Stickler on that level. I am guessing she’s a little bummed on us about now as she was aiming to do the Jason Jessee story herself. In fact it kinda got ugly with Jason and I at one point, as she was approaching him as we were starting production...and he actually was considering going with her. I practically pulled my .45 on him...I just let him know... ”Motherfucker, we are DOING THIS.” That’s how crazy production can be and that’s why I have respect for Helen. It’s a motherfucker to work with all of these divergent personalities and make a cohesive piece...just a bitch. The thing that annoyed me the most about her piece was the look of it and the interviews was something we addressed in depth. We are asking you to sit in a dark room and stare at a wall for over an hour, so we made it count…the lighting, the blocking, the variety of appearances of each interviewee to establish their identity immediately. We did this all over the world and made each one unique and visually lush. Researching each person over a period of many years in my own time allowed me to get gold in the interviews. It was such a painful edit as there are so many just sick stories and hilarious shit that will be on the extras disc. But even there we are constricted...we have HUNDREDS of hours of killer footage and interviews. Just disgustingly good shit.
John Lucero’s “Who Cares?: The Duane Peters Story” The interviews were lacking. I mean, where’s the humor? DP’s story is MAYHEM and there are a million fucking funny tales. Lohrman is the best and that’s all they got? More back story, more Barcklay, more funny shit. The dude is a one man laugh riot and you have this kinda dry skate video treatment? Don’t get me wrong, getting all of that footage was hot and cool to see, but that’s IT? Back to the drawing board, fellas. Lucero is super cool though and was real helpful in the making of our piece. Letting us interview Hosoi there at Black Label and just being super cool overall. He’s been through a LOT the past few years and for him to still get all this shit done is just Herculean. Making this tale, we heard some of the funniest DP shit ever and it was really distracting at times because you want to hear all of it. ‘Pray for Me’ is more of an overall look at California culture and some of the major players in the scene rather than just a skate video take on Jason. You get waltzed through a lot of worlds and it’s a fucking heavy trip. The people in our film are just crushers in their field. Sure, we have some of the familiar faces...Olson, Hosoi, DP....but, we get into the low-rider world, we get into the hotrod scene, tattooing, guns, religion, biker lifestyle and it’s all Jason. skunk13
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dudes without dads by nikki townsend, illustration by evil pat
In the fall of 1994 I got the call up from my dad saying we needed to get together and have a talk. This was annoying in any number of ways because A) I had never had a “talk” with my dad: like more and more kids in the latter part of the twentieth century, I grew up in a household of anger, disconnectedness and Nintendo babysitting. And B) At this point I’d been living on my own for a couple of years with about as much contact to my family as a freed slave has to a Georgia plantation owner. So at fifteen, with the bulk of my time spent either listening to The Misfits, trying to get my hands on a bottle of Smirnoff by flirting with 22-year-old mullet-heads or consuming mass quantities of psychedelic drugs, I had no interest in blowing the $1.20 to catch the bus across town for a chat with my dad. But sensing the profound moment in my life this might be (or more likely because I was high as shit), I gave in and met him at my Grandma’s the following Monday. Hey, free food at least. So, in the time it took to smoke a Marlboro Red, I learned that this dude was not my dad and I was, in fact, a bastard child. Given the fact that the guy was a total dick to me my entire childhood, it was kind of a relief. However, it also meant that I had no dad and 15 years of my life was a big, fat fucking lie. Kind of like those dudes who lead double lives and then one day their wife finds out he’s got a whole other family in Des Moines. What a shocker. But I’m not the only product of a slutty teenage mom, loud & disturbing divorce or a childhood façade ripped from the script of a Tuesday afternoon soap opera. Our editor, Jack, doesn’t have a dad either. And he even had to spend his elementary school afternoons going to “it’s not your fault your folks split up” classes. If it’s not my fault, then how come I can’t just go play!?! Well, here at Skunk, we want you to play. And we also don’t give a fuck if it was your fault. We’re just stoked that we don’t have dads and we’re still getting shit done. Plus, we figure there’s got to be a ton of other dudes navigating the waters in the same boat as us. In fact, we’re going to start listing those folks right here, in the pages of Skunk Skateboard Magazine. Best of all, we’re giving you the chance to be counted right along with them! Starting this month, we’re bringing you the Dudes Without Dads™ Club. Now you can be proud that you’re dadless, just like us! So, if you fall into any of the following sucky categories, send us your name and address and we’ll send you a membership to the Skunk Magazine Dudes Without Dads™ Club.
Never met your dad cause your mom got knocked up at a keg party. Dad went out for milk (or malt liquor) and never came back. Dad was a total dick, so you had to get out before poking out your own eye with a letter opener. Dad left to live with his family in Des Moines. Dad died in a mysterious accident involving electrical or farm equipment. Or got taken out claiming turf in a gang war. Your moms are lesbians and you are the product of artificial insemination from your local sperm bank. Dad realized he was living in the body of a woman and finally had the gender alteration surgery last year. Or just plain old: Dad left mom and casually slipped out of the picture, now everybody’s pissed cause buying shit with food stamps is fucking embarrassing.
To join the club, e-mail your information to firstname.lastname@example.org and look for your name in the next issue of Skunk.
Jack Boyd Nikki Townsend Ed Templeton Josh Holton Andy Paulsen
Editor/Shop Co-Owner Managing Editor Professional Skater/Company Owner/Artist Skateboarder/Cabin Owner Skateboarder/Real Estate Agent
1983 1979 1981 1974 1978
san franfishco treat nikki talks with jeremy fish
You’ve see his artwork. You may not realize it because it kinda creeps up on you like high tide. One minute you’re lying hungover in the sand and then all of a sudden you’re covered in water and maybe a little puke. Plus, your kicks are halfway to Okinawa. This dude probably won’t snag your new sneaks, but he and a small army of Silly Pink Bunnies may surely be taking over the world. In fact, while working on this interview, I had a few dreams (or nightmares?) involving overwhelming troops of goofy fish and colorful, skull-faced rabbits. His artwork might slowly invade your subconscious, but it makes you feel kinda good. And, as you’re about to find out, Jeremy Fish is a pretty feel good sort of guy.
What are you doing right now? I am nervously awaiting going to get a tattoo. I haven’t been tattooed in almost 7 years, and I am afraid I forgot how to sit quietly.
Who were some of your art/skateboarding influences growing up? Dr. Suess, Walt Disney, Hannah Barbara, VCJ, Mel Bend, Andy Howell, Pushead, and Jim Phillips.
What tattoo were you getting? Do you have others?
Who influences you now?
I have lots. My friend Grime here in San Francisco does them. He is the best.
Dr. Suess, Mat Obrien, Tiffany Bozic, Mike Giant, Will Barras, Jeff Soto, Mars one, Alphonse Mucha, and probably some others too.
How much skating are you actually doing these days? Just a little, I am kind of a mess. I celebrated 20 years of skating this year by breaking my ankle really badly on the same leg I had my ACL replaced just a few years ago. two surgeries, tons of physical therapy, and nine months later I am pushing around again. Last night actually I had a weird nightmare I couldn’t do a frontside slash grind on a 4ft quarterpipe. It sucked, I woke up sweaty. How did you end up designing skateboards? Sheer luck. I went to school for screenprinting mostly. I got a job from my friend Dustin at a printshop managing the printing of decks, t-shirts and stickers when I finished school. I freelanced a little here and there for the companies we printed for (Think, Thrasher, Slap, and Juxtapoz) and that led to a full time gig with think. I am grateful to think, Printime and Highspeed for all the experience and direction I got from those jobs. Without them I would probably be another dude with an art degree packing groceries. How was the transition from Think to Unbelievers? Why did Unbeliever’s come about? It was a good transition. I quit think because I was getting burned out. There were some creative differences, and I needed to leave. I loved that company and the people I worked for, but it wasn’t working anymore so I left. I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do. Scott Bourne got a chance to start something, we put our heads together and the unbelievers was born. skunk18
Top three board graphics of all time? 1) Neil blender “Coffee Break” 2) mark Gonzales “Gene Simmons Fishcar” 3) Todd Bratrud “Congratulations, Its a Man” You’ve done some designs for Upper Playground and now Nike’s busting out with a shoe you designed. How did that work out and how stoked are you? Stoked. The dudes at Nike have treated me really well. I am exited about my shoe. It took almost two years to get it just right. It comes out in may think. As far as upperplayground, I have worked with them for almost 5 years. I am the guy they get to do t-shirts and other random crap to sell to the stoners, skaters, and creeps. That’s my audience I guess. I really am behind the dudes at upper playground; they have helped me a lot. What’s your involvement with fecalface? Just a fan I guess. John Trippe is my homie, and has been for a long while. He has helped me a lot over the years by plugging my various projects on the fecal. Mostly we are bros and we beer out together. John is really good at beer and the internet. We recently started a small company called umbrella. Myself, John, Matt Irving, Bob K, and Rick Marr started this online store to sell our art related stuff (tees, books, prints, toys, etc.). Check into it if you care... www.umbrellamarket.com
Umbrellamarket is rad. I had checked it out before. What’s with the lack of women’s shirts? I need some of those. Sorry about that. I think the world has way too many tee shirts. You’ve designed everything from skateboards and baby jumpers to hotel rooms and toys. Will we be seeing the Jeremy Fish diaper genie or office cubicle soon? What are you working on now? I am doing some furniture with a great furniture designer named Francisco here in San Francisco. I am also making a storybook/ record collaboration with Aesop Rock. It tells the struggle of the creative process when it’s a fulltime job he rules. Trying to do some animation projects. And trying to draw and paint a lot for my shows this year.
What, if any, shows do you have coming up? Is your stuff showing anywhere currently? Not really. I am taking a break right now. I like to produce a lot in the winter and show a lot in the summer. Right now I am taking the longest break I have had from shows in a while. I will be at Space 1026 in Philly for a solo show in May. Your work has pretty clean lines, is that a reflection of your personality? Are you an organized guy or a mess? I am an organized mess mostly. I think I would be more organized if I lived in a bigger spot. My shack is tiny and there is too much crap in here. Organized confusion.
Did growing up in New York have a big affect on the creature you turned into? Yep. I have a lot of love for the Northeast. I like to try and be there every fall for at least a few weeks. It was cool to grow up in that part of the US, at a time when skating was still a pretty small community. It was a small scene with a lot of really talented people. This year I have officially lived in SF longer then where I grew up in NY, but the upstate NY is always where I am from. What’s there to love about SF? Everything and nothing it just depends. If you have ever been here then you understand how inspiring of a city it really is. It’s the wild west, the Barbary coast. Pirates, gold diggers, hippies, and homos all wrapped up in the most physically breathtaking major city in the United States and maybe in
the world (as far as I have looked anyway). Come and check it out. There are inspiring mysteries and short stories in every alley, strip club, and creepy old bar. This place reeks of a seedy historic past. I heard you’re getting a place with Uncle Freddy (Street Corner Sales Rep Extraordinaire)? That’s sounds like it could be fun. Are you guys good friends? I just got off the phone with him and he was saying how he got jumped and mugged yesterday. Is that common in SF? That’s scary, man. Yep. Uncle Fred is one of the ultimate homies. A true pillar in the gang. He rules. Yeah, SF isn’t all gays and hippies. We have thugs and poor people like any major city. Unfortunately Uncle Fred lives in a real shit neighborhood and he had some bad luck.
So, you wanna let me in on SPBs? Where did that come from? Are you hyped that it’s pretty much it’s own army now? That’s top secret. I’m sorry. I read an interview where you said you farted really loud in a café in Milan or something. What do you eat? Everything. I love to eat, and I am good at it. Italian is my favorite. My mom’s side is italian and those people know food. I will blow my last dime on a big meal. Fish? Nice one.
Is that cannibalism? No that’s Albert fish, no relation (I don’t think.) Do you have a woman? No. I have a couple I guess, but none of them like me much. You ever shaved a part of your body that you probably shouldn’t be shaving? No. Any interested Jeremy Fish factoids or anecdotes to share with our readers? Skin up.
dollars for dougie by jack boyd Skateboarding has quite the cast of characters these days. Our industry is overflowing with TV celebrities, jocks, winos, punk rockers, murderers, hessians and kooks. Whatever kind of thrasher you’re looking for we got it right here at SkateMart. It’s hard to say which category Doug Brown falls into. Most of you have probably never heard of him before. I hadn’t until the moment he came a-bursting into the shop and starting signing posters and handing out Ollie Pop to some of the lurker, homeless children who seek refuge in the store from time to time. At first they seemed confused (pro skateboarders don’t just stop by everyday you know) as their usual day only consists of stuffing their faces with sugary treats, gulping down soda pop and watching videos, rather than getting their little lard asses out into the sunshine where it could do them some good. Anyways, for all purposes I had every reason not to like Douglas. After reading through the journal link on his website I was convinced that he was nothing more than a self promoting braggart that was somehow scamming a living off of skateboarding. So how is that I have found myself among Doug Brown’s biggest fans? It’s a long story and I have neither the space nor the patience to get into it. What I can say is that reading his words have brought far more joy and entertainment into my life than hearing the tales and experiences of some boy wonder on the rise. I can’t take anyone or their advice seriously unless I know that they have the pubic hair to back it up. And I know for a fact Doug has pubes. He has his own signature stick of deodorant for god’s sake. For a good time check out www.dougbrownskate.com and judge for yourself.
i found your dad at del taco written by your mom
Though we surely appear pretty shit-for-brained, we are smart enough to know that half the time we send our magazine out to potential advertisers it just gets passed on to some lark in the marketing department who probably doesn’t even skate, But I bet he sure likes spending the paycheck it provides. Anyway, we figured a sure-fire tactic for getting the mag into the proper hands would be showing up at the semi-annual industry madhouse known as ASR. Apparently that stands for Action Sports Retailers; how could you go wrong? It just sounds radical. But besides all the businessy-business-holding-the mag-togetherblah-blah, Nikki and I were also pretty stoked to escape the God forsaken iceberg known as the Midwest and since we thought some other folks might enjoy a little warmth we decided that, like every road trip, we should have a crew. So our ‘crew’ ended up being us and our two pals Steve (Seitz) and Tony (Martin) whom we made promises of weed and drunk girls to and, of course, failed to supply either. I’m not gonna waste time on minute details like the plane ride or skating this or that spot. We had a job to do Goddammit… and this trip was costing us time and money we didn’t have. In fact, the whole thing was sponsored by Best Buy, Inc., courtesy of one of Nikki’s weekly paychecks. Nikki doesn’t give a crap about money- if it’s hers, yours or supposed to be reserved for the babysitter, she’ll spend it on whatever. So here’s a rundown of where all that time and money got blown.
the show This was the first skate show I had been to. I went to a snowboarding trade show once where my friend titty-fucked a hooker in the bed next to me, but aside from that it sucked. This one promised to be at least slightly more inviting cause I actually know who’s who and what’s going on in the skateboarding Super Kingdom. We had a game plan worked out before the plane even touched down. Since I moonlight in the retail business, I know firsthand the annoyance of being coldly approached by impersonable salesmen dreaming of making their big break. With this in mind, we decided to turn the tables and slip in under the guise of shop buyers. We nodded and smiled over new deck graphics and footwear colorways then, upon stuffing the (soon to be disposed of) catalog in to my skunk26
backpack, pulled out the old “Oh, yeahhere’s a little side project we do... outside our busy shop schedule of course.” Perfect. It’s safe to say that it went off without a hitch and our scheme improved with every appointment. Between these sometimes awkward meetings, we blew time checking out the D.S.A.F.C. (Don’t Stand A Fucking Chance) booths. You’d crap you’re Andrew Reynolds Vintage Wash Wide Rib Boot Cut Corduroys if you saw all the people who acquire booths to try to hack off their lame shit. In a way you feel sorry cause you know they probably blew their kids’ college fund or re-mortgaged their house for a chance to get rich quick in the fast paced world of action sports. But that doesn’t keep you from laughing at some dude who spent twenty minutes trying to assemble a pyramid of plastic skateboards only to flick them off in frustration upon realization of defect.
make loud requests for blow jobs and wet pussy. That lasted for about ten minutes until he made such a request to the wrong guy’s girlfriend. I figured it was time to bail when blood started splashing and drunky was yelling “Well, it didn’t even hurt…” Each individual has their own reaction to alcohol. Unlike Lonely Lanky outside, I can proudly say that I don’t become belligerent or violent. I’m more of a talkative, praising drunk and while this is the type most would prefer to deal with, ‘most’ apparently doesn’t include any of the fools we ran into that night. I started off on John Lucero who quickly pawned me off on his filmer Patrick Nagy who happened to be on his way out the door, but luckily Peter Romondetta came around with Ernie Torres who, from the looks of the picture, seemed ready to lend me my own socking in the mouth.
night songs As far as nightlife is concerned, Del Taco and a beer buzz turned out to be the persistent them for most of the trip. It was only on our final night in San Diego that I managed to make a fool of myself, making others feel equally as foolish and uncomfortable in the process. We had decided to take in the premier of Thrasher’s new King of the Road video. However, we must have just missed happy hour and quickly got tired of paying $5 a beer for the ambience of drinking in a hip bar in the trendy Gaslamp District. So, in true Skunk fashion, we caroused the streets until we happened upon a seedier, cheaper establishment with our newfound friend, Putrid. You’ll be seeing more of that sick fuck at a later date. With the swift increase of alcohol consumption, I began to stumble into the majority of my buzz and become more aware of my unfamiliar surroundings and the vast array of characters it held. Because, in California, you can’t even enjoy the sensation of smoking a cigarette in a dive bar, we were forced into outdoor smoke breaks where we were ransacked by some lanky drunkard. Well, according to that dude, announcing that you’re a skateboarder apparently allows you a pass to be an obnoxious asshole and
the fuck outta dodge... The next morning I woke up to Nikki busting into the room yelling, “Steve! What the fuck happened to the car? It’s fucking fucked!” In my still-drunk daze, I began to clearly envision the moment at Budget Rental Car when I declined the $9-a-day insurance. Great, I thought, a hangover and a totaled car. What really happened is that Tony somehow ended up on a different flight than the rest of us and when Steve was taking him to the airport they hit a giant sea of steaming hot sewage. Tony had just lit a cigarette, too, so since his window was down he got splashed right in the face. Better that Tony suffer permanent damage than the Ford Focus that was costing us (Nikki) $40 a day. The thing is, people in California take their clean cars pretty seriously so everywhere we went folks were gawkin’ and talkin’. Even a bum lifted his head from his dumpster-side bed and began yelling out directions to a nearby car wash. A vagrant. I guess we’re just used to Minnesota were everyone’s car is filthy. You know, from all that 4x4’in we be doing on our cousin’s land every weekend and shit. For the most part the show was what we had expected. You see a lot of people that you see in magazines and get offers to a bunch of parties with free beer. It’s their way of getting you drunk and tricking you into buying more stuff. It works. And you get to hear a lot of shit talking. Did our plan work? Well, as of this writing, we picked up a couple more advertisers, but only one who we’ve actually seen a check from. So as you’re flipping through this pile, if you see any ads with half naked women, remember to support the companies that support your favorite shit rag.
After this series of conversations my brain began to sense the shut-down mechanisms kicking in so I decided to finish things off with fellow Minnesota native Clint Peterson with whom I have no idea what was said, but I do recall a look of disappointment and annoyance. Sorry, Clint.
My grandma, Loretta, has passed a great deal of wisdom onto me. Some of her advice I’ve taken, some has been scoffed at and pissed upon. Red is, however, a good woman- old, tough, drives a Harley, forgot to put tuna in the tuna casserole once. On her left arm are the initials of her cokehead, felon boyfriend from 30 years ago. She’s always said, “If you think you gotta’ get a tattoo, get your family name or you kid’s name. Those are the only things you’ll give a shit about the rest of your life, which is how long that tattoo’ll be staring you in the face every morning.” She also regularly noted that skateboarders are stupid because they’re risking severe bodily injury, possible paralysis and permanent retardation. Good ol’ Red. Like I said, I didn’t heed all of her advice. I started skating 15 years ago and can still feed myself and wipe my own ass. And, I’ve got a body full of tattoos that I personally feel look kinda sexy. In that hard woman kinda way. In fact, skateboarders and tattoos are two of my favorite things and usually there is little that I find more attractive than the combination of both. However, Sam, our photographer has got a fucking eyesore that even at a truck stop off I-95, wouldn’t be considered attractive. And he figured he couldn’t be the only skater with gnarly, regrettable ink permanently stamped into their skin. So maybe Red was right in some ways: here are some fools who apparently agreed with neither of her passages of wisdom and quite possibly could be suffering from permanent retardation. Nikki Townsend
Seth Mccallum If you have tattoo story that starts with, ”My homie had a tattoo gun...”, chances are it’s junky and faded. Yes, this is how my story begins for numerous inked scars from my teen years. My friend Jeff had a tackle box filled with different color inks, a quiver of homemade needles, and a small electric tat gun. On one particular weekend when he left it at my house, I thought it would be sick to give myself a fresh new tattoo. I don’t know why I wanted a clown. I don’t really like them, and the art I chose to use was a psycho clown that had a cocaine straw hanging out of its nose (I left that out of mine). But away I went, dragging the needle against the outline I drew on my stomach. Once I got that finished, I decided to add some color and got carried away. I stood up to check it in the mirror, and gazed at it for the first time thinking, “Oh fuck, what did I just do! This thing is fucking horrible...and permanent!!!” Fast forward a couple years to the rise of our Fobia sk8 crew. The cow skull became one of our main logos for the shop, and just happened to fit rather well as a cover up over the psycho clown thanks to local tattoo master Garret Meyer. The clown still lurks below, disguised and mysterious, waiting to prank and snort crank with all ya’ll stiffly stiffersons..........
Darren Navarette Ummm… I once won a tattoo at this contest for who could do the highest air to fakie. Grosso’s idea; he said high air contests are nothing unless you go to fakie! We were drinking in the parking lot and I promised Grosso- drunk or not- if it’s to fakie, I’ll win! Anyway, I went 8.1feet to fakie completely shit-faced rolled up the windows all the way down then my front wheels hit the coping...bonk! Still made it 8.1 to fakie -straight out of Minnesota (at that time). I didn’t win: Tony Hawk, 8.2 dammit! I just went straight up and down....should of done some sort of cross bone... Oh, well 8.1. So first prize was a tattoo from the Godoy brothers and Tony didn’t want a tattoo, he was trying to get one removed (his tattooed wedding band!) Cool. So I got the prize- some crazy burning shit... they didn’t let me decide what I wanted, they just gave me what they thought was cool...IT IS! skunk28
Sam McGuire When I was seventeen, I saw this CCS sticker that had the sequence of a guy doing a kickflip and for some reason it popped into my head that it would make a great tattoo wrapping around my whole leg. A few days later my friend traced the sticker on me and that’s when we realized the sequence would fall far short from wrapping around my whole leg, so for some reason we decided just to repeat the landing frame four times. Then I came up with another genius addition; I decided to put two bands around the sequence with old English writing. One band would say, “family forever” after a favorite song of mine at the time, and the other would say “love life.” Fast forward a few months and I’m already regretting my decision. My friend is down to just black out the bands so you can’t see the words and after about 3 hours of intense pain it now looks like I have a giant tube sock on. Two huge bands, perfectly where a tube sock would go. Awesome. So, about a year ago I saw an ad for laser removal and decided I would investigate; a few months later and I was in the doctors office waiting to get lasered. Each zap would zap every layer of skin off, you could see muscle and all sorts of crazy tissue. After about one and a half inches on the top band he stops and says, “Alright, that’s enough for today.” So now I’m out $300 bucks, my tube sock now has a gap in it and the sequence is still there. To this day if I just rub the skin where it was lasered, it will just peel off and start bleeding. At least the kickflip isn’t mobbed. I’ve always wondered what skateboarder they modeled it off of. To all you kids, think before you ink.
Kyle Bunker The run down on the tat goes like this: it was 2004, and I was in a community college business class, and the teacher told us we would be watching a movie that day. He put it in, and it was a special episode of 20/20 that was taped off TV. It was one where the whole episode was a report by John Stossel about starting your own business and the red tape that goes along with it. The main point of the report he was trying to make was that the more the government tries to get involved with personal affairs like running a business, the harder it is for the business to be successful. When the tape first started, I remember being kinda excited because I used to like his “give me a break” segments he would do at the end of each episode of 20/20 when I was a kid. As the tape played on, I was thinking to myself, “This guy rocks; I should get his face tattooed on my arm.” Once I was out of class, I made a few phone calls to see what key people thought of the idea. Namely, I wanted to make sure the girlfriend would still make out with me if I got it. And with the strong disapproval form all parties, I got it anyway. That’s pretty much it.
Todd Bratrud Alright then, I got a million bad tattoos… at least I’m sure they look bad from an outsiders point of view. For the most part I could care less what a tattoo looks like; I get ‘em for reasons, each one, no matter how lame it looks. I mean, I have a tattoo of a mug of root beer, Snoopy as a puppy, the little mermaid and the list goes on and on. This “Crippled” one, though, has a few meanings; I will try to explain them without sounding like too much of a dork. For starters one of my best friend’s little brother was sick his whole life, stuck in bed till he was in his twenties when he died. I only met him once but I knew of him forever, I got the word crippled for him. He was crippled and you knew it to see him. We are all crippled, physically, mentally or both. I figured I should get the tattoo on one of many appropriate spots. I like the idea that we are all crippled, you just may never see it cause it’s mental or emotional or in a minor physical way. I’m crippled in a bunch of physical ways that are easier to spot; not to mention mentally, I’m crippled in more ways than most. The finger is one that you wouldn’t notice unless I called it out. So yeah. I chopped my finger off back in the day, freak accident style. I’ve been through a lot in my day, so this was no big deal, but what I'm left with is a middle finger that no longer works. Crippled, we all are. skunk29
words luke hunt photography sam mcguire
Stairs and a bank make a nice corner to piss in. This would have been a 8/10 street piss. Instead hereâ€™s Nate Heilbergerâ€™s nose grind pop in.
Spencer Pratti knocked out this nollie heelflip back lip before anybody had the chance to piss on the stairs.
We had all these epic ideas for this article. My favorite consisted of judging each obstacle at the skatepark using a scale we invented ourselves. The scale would play on the fact that the park’s obstacles are constructed to ride/look like real street spots. With this in mind we would use outdoor activities such as taking a street piss, jogging, hollering at a hooker, rollerblading, drinking a bagged beer, catching a bus,
skipping school, uni-cycling, making out... you catch my drift. We had all these big plans to take the gear with us to the park and shoot dumb photos of us trying this shit in the park. Jackson was going to scoot around in the rollerblades and of course I was down for anything involving beer. As it turns out we didn’t get one single dumb photo due to the fact that everyone was shredding so fuckin’ hard.
9/10 steep as shit Bagged Beer Bank. Luke Hunt 5.0 fakie’s his way to a 40oz.
Unicycling spot, it would have scored 7/10 for its beautiful inclines and declines. Mike Munzenriders nollie inward heelflip is better.
From the minute we got there everyone skated till they couldn’t skate any longer. Even Sam was seen tooling around when not behind the lens. The park has so much to offer-the layout allows for sessioning of individual objects, much like the way we skate when out in the streets. This removes much of the long, straight, back and forth lines so many parks seem to have these days. I found myself pushing a lot and I liked that.
Marble, self poured cement, simulated brick banks, pool coping, a buttery floor and no Hummer parked out front make this a must skate destination in the Midwest. If you’re looking to build a skatepark because little Timmy and his friends don’t like lacrosse anymore, use this as a shining example. Skaters making things to skate get it right. Plus there’s a strip club just around the corner.
During the drive home Ryan Hansen spent an hour trying to get 2 college girls to show their tits. This nollie cab flip came a lot easier.
10/10 make out spot, the ledge hides your bodies while you go for second base Milwaukee Mike nollie shuvit nose grind all the way.
Joey Jordan over-crooked this rail moments before Brian knobbed the rail and kicked him out.
Jon Rockafellow ain'tâ€™ scared of the Bagged Beer Bank. Fontside ollie over the area where I would choose to pass out
as how he was the only reason she was here. This gave me plenty of time to consider what was happening to me. What were the almost thirty-some people there going say to everyone else the next day? What if the cops had already been called? How do I explain this to my girlfriend? Is photographic evidence of this really the smartest idea? Fuck it I thought. Maybe we can still end this in a high speed chase.
catholic school girls are hot. oh yeah. by joe penn This happened Halloween of ’99 I think… My roommate decides he’s going to throw a party. Fine, whatever…I invite a few people too. My cousins- Nate and Anna- show up about 8 p.m. or so. I’ve always liked hanging out with my cousins so I say hi and asked who they had brought with them. The one kid I knew, T.J. I think his name was. He was a pothead and pretty laid back so I wasn’t worried about him. It was the girl at his side I was concerned with. She was some Barbie doll cheerleader type who looked about sixteen. Now my cousins were 18 or 19 or so, so it’s not like I’m some anti-underage Nazi or something, I was just uneasy about strangers. “It’s cool”, Anna said, “If she gets out of line I’ll take care of it”. “Alright”, I say, “I just wanted to know who she was”. So I showed them in and left it to Anna’s pledge of supervision. Not an hour later I’m in the living room talking to friends and in stumbles the cheerleader chick blind drunk and stupid. Apparently she’d had two shots of vodka and a beer. “I haven’t eaten today!” she lied, laughing so hard she fell over taking out a lamp as she fell into a heap on the carpet. The whole room laughed. We’ve all seen her kind before. As she lay there in the middle of the floor with her eyes closed, a thin stalactite of drool dripping from her bottom lip as she slurred slutty insinuations directed at no one in particular, cousin Nate asks if we should get rid of her. I told him to just let her sleep it off or something. I didn’t want to kick her out in the cold when she couldn’t even pronounce her own name. Instead, we dragged her into my room, tucked her in and gave her a puke bucket. “YOU USE THIS!” I said, making sure she saw the bucket. We returned to the party and figured she would be ok to sleep it off. About an hour or so later I went in to change the bucket. We had heard her retching earlier. As I walked in, I was hit by a smell like burning guano. “Jesus,” I thought “it fucking reeks in here”. I figured it was just the puke bucket, which by some miracle she had actually used. I changed it out and went back out to the living room. This conversation followed: Nate - “She okay?” Me - “Yeah, she actually didn’t puke on my stuff.” Anna - “Good, I’d have kicked her prep school ass, I don’t care who her dad is… “ Me -“What do you mean? Who’s her dad?” Anna - “Some cop with the Anoka County Sheriff… “ Me - “What?!?”
Now she had to go for sure. I had put my own head on a chopping block and I needed her gone before the axe came down. I got up and made for my room. Drunk or not she was leaving NOW. Anna followed, recognizing that it was time for chick to go. When we opened the door the scent of death wafted out and Anna said, “Oh my god, what is THAT?” I said that I didn’t know; I changed the bucket. In the half light coming in from the door I could see the bucket was still empty. Anna clicked on the light so we could see where the smell was coming from. As I scanned the room my eyes fell on something crumpled up in the corner. She had taken her clothes off and was naked, wrapped up like a burrito in my sheets. Oh great, I thought, so this is how I wind up in prison. With a Sheriffs 16 year old daughter drunk, naked and in my bed… and I’d always hoped for something involving a high speed car chase. I told Anna that I could not have this, she’s gotta go before someone sees her. We took turns shaking the giant burrito thing by what we assumed to be a shoulder shouting “Wake up and put your clothes on, you gotta leave!” When we got no response, save an annoying grumble or two, I got fed up. “Alright, I said, peeling the sheet off her head. She rolled over and looked at whoever it was stripping her of her cocoon and shouted, “WHAT!?!” My brain froze. I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head as I jumped back, pulling my hands up to my armpits like someone dodging a hammer aimed for their fingers. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She was completely covered; head to toe, in her own shit. It was up and down her arms and legs, mashed about her torso in big clumps like a patchwork quilt. The crap was caked in her hair and eyebrows. She even had shit in her ears and smeared on her upper lip like some kind of Hitler-esque poop stache. Apparently she was wearing a thong and shit must have been coming out like a Play-Doh® Fun Factory™, doubling her filth. By now a crowd was starting to form outside the bedroom door and hushed whispers turned into loud declarations of “No Way, move over dude! I gotta see this!” Still gaping at the shit girl I said, “Jesus, Anna, what do we do?” Regaining her composure Anna calmly said, “First things first, we need a camera.” It was decided that T.J. would go to the gas station a few blocks away and get a disposable camera. With his own money of course, seeing
T.J. finally came moping in with the camera and the next half hour was spent deftly avoiding her thrashing, poop coated hands, as she swatted at us whenever we would pull off her covers to get a clear picture. Of course everyone needed to get the thumbs-up-stupidgrin-while-leaning-over-her shot. I myself indulged in a photo of dropping the ass of my pants and leaning over her backwards as though it was me who had shit all over her. Eyes to the ceiling, wearing an “oopsy” face. You know the shot. Eventually, we ran out of film and all the commotion had shit girl finally trying to get up. She was oblivious to her nudity, much less her own poo, and she kept trying to fall into someone’s arms whenever they would get close. The crowd of onlookers would part like the Red Sea followed by a collective “WHOA!” The kids would scatter and she’d hit the floor. I could have given a fuck about her, I just didn’t want her spreading her nasty crap around and getting it all over the walls, so with a little assistance she got wrapped back up and brought to the shower by a couple of the girls. I went back to my room to see what it had become. You could almost sense its presence before you were in the room. There, in the middle of the bed somehow surviving the “choco-tango”, was a steaming pile of turd to make a horse envious. It more closely resembled a Stetson hat than anything a human being could make. You Saint Bernard owners out there know what I’m talking about. Anyway, when she finally did come out, obviously way more sober, everyone avoided eye contact. We tried, in vain, to hold in the giggles and stay perfectly still. Except, of course, for my roommates best friend. “Hey, go look in that room…you see that? That’s YOUR shit! You did that!” Everyone laughed so hard the walls shook. She slowly turned from us to her pile to us and back to her pile, her eyes getting bigger every time. We were watching her coming to the realization of what she had done. Her bottom lip started to quiver and she burst out in tears. It was fantastic. She cried throughout the whole time she was cleaning up her own shit. I went in to supervise and she sobbed promises of replacing my things. “Fuck yeah you will!” I said. “I’m gonna have to burn that mattress…” By now it was late and I’d had more than enough. I went and passed out on my roommate’s floor not caring what happened in the rest of the house. As it turns out, she stayed until morning. TJ for some reason still humped her. I guess he figured at least she had it all out. I slept on the couch for two weeks and she never did pay me for any of my stuff. Weeks later when I told Anna about this she took matters into her own hands making hundreds of printouts of the choicest pictures and handing them out at shit girl’s private Catholic school. With a bit of luck she’ll be scarred for life.
put this on your easter wish list Hubba Wheels When you’re getting closer to passing the 1/3 mark in your life, mini ramp sessions become more and more appealing. These days we have a regular friday night ritual that consists of beer, smokes, Motorhead (or similar) and a beast of a bowl in a 1 1/2 car garage. You fellow “oldies” out there may experience a similar deal any night of the week. Many a memorable session has gone down with some great friends. This particular session involved a brand spankin’ new set of Hubba Wheels (54mm). Now the good folk over at Hubba* have formulated these gems in a way that your first couple of sessions on them produce some weird and wonderful sounds, at least until those little lines wear off. So when you’re sick and tired of seeing Rat Face do his 50th tail revert of the night, chuck him a set of these Hubbas** and let the sound orgasm begin. In no time at all you will all be screaming and smacking your boards on the coping, like a group of school boys stamping on snails and drinking puddle water. Luke *Also responsible for putting naked women back in skateboarding. **Handing Rat Face and others a Pabst works pretty well too.
DVS As a woman, it’s always nice to get another pair of shoes. The odds of our average reader being a very little Asian woman are probably about as likely as you being a Down-Syndrome, illiterate, albino Jew. But I am. Small. And since I’m commonly mistaken for a 15-year-old chinagirl, I regularly wear high heels or platform shoes of some sort. I will, however, be the first to admit that the only reason to wear this type of footwear is for added height and femininity. Contrary to what the average dumb bitch will tell you, and unlike these lovely Daewon 9s, ain’t nobody wearing a platform slingback for comfort or enhanced athletic prowess. In fact, about the only physical activities I can partake in while wearing a four-inch heel are standing and fucking. No running, no jumping, no pole-vaulting and definitely not skateboarding. Nikki
Consolidated The other night I dreamt that I was interviewing (former) Consolidated rider Seth McCallum and for some reason we were in a prison. Emeric was there, too, just hanging out and looking real happy like maybe he’s high. We’re in a high security facility rockin’ the orange jumpsuits and he’s all stoked. Well, within minutes (Consolidated owner) Birdo shows up and he’s hollering and pointing at my foot which is when I realize that I’m chillin’ barefoot around fucking Alcatraz. This is the least of my worries though, because- unbeknownst to me- there’s a swoosh tattooed on my left foot and Birdo starts going dippy, screaming that there’s a conspiracy and we’re a cult and then he pulls out a hunting knife and stabs me in the foot, taking out my pinkie toe in the process. So Birdo somehow sneaks in a knife, but I’m doing 5-10 with a limp, no chance of parole… all for wearing the swoosh on my feet. Nikki
Nixon Watch Remember Rat Face from the Hubba review? Well, the other day he was telling me this story about his Nixon “Ticket” watch and how much play he’s been getting because of it. So he goes out to the bar just like any night, but this particular night donning his sparkling chrome and glass timepiece. No sooner than the first cold bottle hit his lips does he feel a hand on his thigh and looks up to see a right stunna staring at his watch. This chick was so hot for RF he couldn’t believe his luck. He pulled the routine he learned back in ‘88, buying the chick shots and claiming sponsored skaterdom. The girl fell hook, line and sinker and in no time at all RF had has pants round his ankles receiving a good old polish in the alleyway behind the parking lot. Now the weird part is the chick made him put the watch round the base of his cock. RF said it felt a little weird at first but after a while he got used to it. He also added, “It was rad because I could see how long she’d been going and how much drinking time I had left at the bar.” He had only one complaint about the endeavor: “The watch don’t work no more, shit’s full of bodily fluids.” This however, does not slow his game- “I still rock it though, chicks love it. Just be sure to wear that joint with a short sleeve, so them bar sluts can see it.” Luke
Ogio Koston The only thing that could have made getting this bag even better would be if it had contained a big chunk of bailed weed with some beers to take off the edge. I got a paranoid problem with the pot. I’m not a regular grass smoker but the last time this girl acquaintance of mine came over, we got super high and started watching the Signs DVD I had purchased at the pawn shop a few days before. I got stoned to the point where I was thinking that if I stood up my legs would surely give out. Then I started thinking about how much it would trip us out if I just started projectile vomiting. Then I started thinking that maybe I had to puke for real so I jumped out of my chair and retreated up the stairs to my bedroom (my legs worked after all) without saying a word to anyone. I passed out immediately and she got stuck with my roommate and another friend who were drunk and slobbing down on tacos. I should probably give her the bag for such an act of ditchery, but then again she would most likely just end up forgetting it somewhere like a true pothead. Jack
Dave was supposed to send us a flick for this page. Shit never came through, so I drank a bottle of wine and google imaged him.
drinking with dave mayhew First drunk experience? It took place in San Diego when I was 19. Girls, guys and a whole bunch of 22oz’s; it was a great first experience.
We lasted about an hour before Ray got us kicked out. Then it was off to Pacific Beach. People passed out and that was about it. Well, that’s the short version.
Your preferred poison? Beer is now preferred so that I can keep track of how much I have drank. Also, wine with the ladies.
Enjoi wasted or Maple sober ? Man, I would have to go with Enjoi drunk. They know how to have a good time, plus they kill it on the board. “BAG OF SUCK”!
D3 sales...you buying or every drunkard for themselves? Well if I bought for everybody then I would be just another drunkard with no cash! That doesn’t make me cheap, just smart.
Worst experience involving bodily fluids? That would be in Lyon, France on a tour. I don’t know what happened but I woke up in a hotel bathroom, puke all over and me lying on the floor. Don’t drink kids.
What kind of “drunk” are you? I am a really mellow drunk, just chill and talk or maybe dance.
Shotgun Old Style with Aaron Snyder or Pabst beer bong with Tyrone Olson? Shotguns with Aaron and Tyrone, they are both good friends.
Favorite drinking partner & most memorable night with them? Well that would have to be my buddy Ray Gauthier. As far as memorable nights that would have to be his 21st birthday in San Diego. We were out with Jason Carney and Ed Dominick. First stop was the strip club! skunk40
Favorite drunk Josh Kasper moment? Where to begin...how about Josh drunk in downtown Washington, DC running around talking to himself in 3rd person, singing “Come on bring the noise” at the top of his lungs?
Magnusson drunk or Magnusson sober? Uh, no Magnusson at all please! You spot an underage Alumni customer at the bar...get ‘em busted or buy them a drink? Well, if they got in and I can keep an eye on them then I guess they get a drink. 6 pack of beer or 1 bottle of wine? Wine One more for the road or call it a night? Most of the time its good night Condom in your pocket or stop at the store? They are at home base Dirk Diggler or pass the fuck out? What is this a porn mag? Depends on the situation. Hair of the dog or stay in bed? California king size bed for the single playa!