simone de beauvoir interview review

i doubt anyone else is trying to watch 40 minute b & w interviews of Simone De Beauvoir but as i’m on a sort of book hiatus til it gets warm/dry enough to skate to the library or someone loans me something interesting i’ve been watching videos of people i used to read.
if you do watch it, some things may seem trite in regards to women being capable of works of art or vocation that a man could perform. granted, they hardly ever do but i think most of us can agree they have the same ‘possibility’ as Simone put it.
i’ve always dug on the idea of collaborating w/ a girlfriend on zines or whatever but it never works out. i’m agnostic towards it but most girls i meet don’t seem to do too much. then again, that could be due to my white trashness, something i never realized when i was younger, idealistic-er and more demanding.
back then i don’t think they had birth control or abortion so it kinda was some recent dark ages.
i always had a curiosity about her as Sartre’s less prolific [but super supportive] lifetime girlfriend. they had an open relationship which i don’t think i’m openminded enough for but more power to anyone who wants to do that. so, you wouldn’t be mad if i try to bang your girl, right?
i read some philistine cunt say that in the end Simone was Sartre’s fool for that but i’m sure it was a lot easier for her to have sidebar relationships, being a woman and all. i read some women’s psychology a while back that said marriage was rooted in ‘anal retentiveness, ownership and patriarchy’ so maybe Simone won in the deal? who knows?
i like her disappointment in American intellectuals [for their jingoism] and women ‘i expected liberation but it was mostly in their styles of dress’. or how instead of wanting independence they were ‘husband shopping’. pretty funny and true today to some extent.
i spose it could be easy to hate her and Sartre, coming from riches and advocating violent revolutions but i can’t. partially cause they’re French, partially cause they seem so sincere and also, Jean-Paul was a POW in WW2. i like in his novels the socialist in the jail would redistribute everyone’s cigarettes so they had an even amount. there’s a difference between deepthinking bourgie radicals and american bottled water drinking complainers.
this was before the age of tv, nonetheless the internet so they could deal w/ privation. i’m not sure what a good class equivalent would be but well off was harder back then. Simone could’ve been Paris Hilton based on birth but i think the French are better than that.
not through any good experience, just based off Camus, Genet and such. i mean, their burglars are great authors [who Sartre got off a 3 strikes life sentence].
it’s kind of interesting how the problems she talked about are still relevant [not a resource shortage but a distribution problem] and apparently the Cold War was sort of a real thing. i feel like it was a pro wrestling style propaganda, same way i feel about the war on terror nowadays.
i realize people die but i feel like there’s no real threat and it’s just something to concern people w/. but Simone didn’t like american capitalism or the USSR’s harsh totalitarianism. i think they wanted a special ‘French socialism’ which i think every country deserves. damn you Hitler for giving national socialism a bad name! every country should look out for it’s own. maybe the fact that we don’t is why so many of us don’t identify strongly as americans. i mean, most of my friends are americans but so are most of the people i don’t like. i don’t feel too much kinship w/ anyone except who i skate w/ and whoever has given me a dollar on the offramp or picked me up hitching.
i can relate to her rooting for the VC when the French [and later US] invaded. it is my belief that the home team is always the ‘good guy’ in war. the invaders play ‘the heel’. i’ve got friends who’ve joined different military branches and i hope they’re safe but i hope the people getting attacked are safe too.
in this book i’m halfassed reading it goes ‘in France you are French, regardless if you work. in America you are judged based on your occupation.’ so maybe as someone who has successfully avoided work and has a different value system i just don’t feel so much a part of stuff.
kinda surreal how those ‘cheese eating surrender monkeys’ were still a colonial power then. do they still own 3rd world colonies? if Haiti came outta my dick i’d leave that ghetto bastard too.
i’ve regrettably drunk broad swaths through my brain so the only memories i have of her actual book or 2 i read [as an ancillary of my Sartre kick] had the protagonist all bummed that her open relationship boyfriend was out carousing w/ his mistress. this one line has stuck w/ me for like a decade ‘i found myself experiencing a sensation for the first time. that of being oppressed by another person’s happiness.’
even if i took it out of context, i’ve kept it mind, using my happiness to oppress others whenever possible.

Wormtown’s 2013 25 defining skate moments [5-1]

ok, so after many a sleepless night [thanks, cocaine] i’ve whittled my nails to the quick and this list down to the tertiary, penultimate, ultimate and whatever fancy word for 4 and 5 most important skate happenings of da ye-ah.
5/ the Worm has it’s own LOVE PARK/EMB/Pulaski Park. finally, a skate plaza! the spot under the red footbridge by 146 has been around and skated for 5 or so years but between someone sawing off the rail that cockblocked the 4 stair flatbar and someone else waxing all the ledges it has gone major leagues and not just a place to 180 into the handicap ramp or ollie the 5 into the highway and wallride a jersey barrier. actually, only once i named the place Aubrey Plaza and bestowed some much needed class on the place did it rise to prominence as Wormtown’s premier skate spot. here’s my sister Marina carving near my favorite tailslide ledge.

and here’s another line my friend lynn filmed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEMLLdmGxr8

traffic is a major issue as this is just vernon st i kickflip into. had that been 146 i woulda got married for sure!
4/ the old courthouse is vacant. and a bust…..? over the yrs we’ve learned most of our ledge tricks at that weathered granite ledge at 2 Main st. occasionally the bailiffs would kick us out but mostly we threaded the needles of dour people who make their living practicing law, bottomfeeding cunts comparing notes on how much time they’ve gotten doled out, occasional protestors, soon to be inmates/probates and that one deaf bum who liked to sit on the last block and shake a cup. the sight of Shay’s rebellion when debt imprisoned farmers were liberated and judges hung is now a vacant, save for the round the clock security who have made the place unskateable for more than a half hour. the ground has atrophied over the yrs and the ledges have rounded but it’d still be nice to skate there occasionally for old tyme’s sake. alas.
this ain’t the ledge we all grinded but it is my homey ‘the nek’

3/ the green curb gets painted yellow. we still refer to it as the green curb. there’s a courthouse grind @:39 and a green curb grind @ :53.

always refer to it as ‘green curb’ lest you sound like an asshole. same goes for ‘the Centrum’ at the bottom of the hill.
2/ my pal’s board fell into a parking garage basement and after going in after it we stumbled into another world. a subterranean world full of stackable wood, philly cheesesteaks [the grind not the grinder] and an insulated world locked away from the used syringes littering the sidewalks outside. i don’t know if it translates but this place has made me a happy man this winter.

1/ Nek’s wife forgives me after 4 yrs of being mad. i did some bad stuff in my drinking days and as a result me and Nek couldn’t really hang out unless we happened to both be at Holmes Field or something but she was the bigger person and invited me to Nek’s birthday [happy 35 yo] and balance has been restored to Worcester skateboarding. thanks Rose!
so there you have it. if you didn’t read it here then it was inconsequential or happened outside city limits. technically the only Worcester skaters [people who skate are 30 or older and receive mail here] are Richie, Mike Leslie, Lance Latham, Marc Lapierre, the Nek and myself. other people may have done some stunts here but they’re still tourists.

Wormtown’s 2013 25 defining skate moments [10-6]

either we’re getting down to the meat, the krux of the story or i’m struggling for ideas to fill this list.
10/ i get arrested, not for enjoying a succulent chinese meal but for firecrackering a 3 stair at st stephens. i firecrackered the 5 at lincoln in 07 but didn’t like how it was filmed so i was intent on relearning it on something smaller then heading to lincoln. officer riggieri and an old warrant got in the way. fortunately i got OR’d the next morning after being in lockup w/ my brother [separate charge] for a night. losing that warrant was like a lifetime supply of xanax cause now i could jump off roofs w/ an orange beanie on like i didn’t have a care in the world. and who knows, maybe i don’t. actually, i was doing that obvious skate stuff the whole time but it’s nice not to face arrest for getting your name read. i feel above the law like Big Ern McCracken!
9/ the ‘neat socks’ trend hits worcester. or maybe it just hit me. so ever since the movie KIDS i’ve been rolling up my pants in warm weather. while down south i contracted a gang of louse from a gang from Laos. asides some caustic chemicals and nit comb, my sister Jess bought me new blue dickeys and socks but they were too long to tuck into my shoes so i rocked em ‘baseball player’ style. this got me obsessed w/ ‘mallard socks’ of which i’ve yet to get a pair but i do make it a point to shoplift a pair or 2 of argyles whenever opportunity allows. Nek treated me to Christmas socks and my footage is improving exponentially.
[sidebar: girls who shoplift are wicked attractive]

8/ rob belanger, once the backbone of Wormtown skating continues to break promises to come skating. dude usedta be balls enough to work an 8 hour shift then enter my squat w/ a medium regular in the dead of winter, talkin about ‘ya wanna skate’? it’s not like he got into drugs or anything rad like that, another casualty of frisbee golf. tsk tsk.
7/ the Centrum gets a facelift, now further resembles Mickey Rourke. firstly, if you call it the ‘DCU’ you’re a looser. secondly, i haven’t liked the Centrum since it was just the one doublesided ledge but it was tolerable til security mercifully kicked you out. the new version came skatestopped outta the package. no me puerta.
the optimist in me won’t stop there but will refer to the ‘new street’ across the road where part of the mall usedta be. it also was built w/ skatestopped ledges and some god awful sidewalks but also a row of jersey barriers, a temporary polejam [you know polejams don’t last, they’re just too beautiful for this world] and some of the smoothest blacktop this side of california.
6/ i went back to the roof where i broke my thumb and if not claimed vengeance, at least regained my self esteem. i may never play Bubble Bobble or Double Dragon again but at least i succeeded in what i set out to do. abstract vacant don’t give a damn. you never ‘win’ skateboarding, you just lose less when you don’t get hurt. i can guarantee that roof isn’t any worse off for me getting lucky on the rideaway, meanwhile my thumb is fucked for life. maybe next yr i’ll throw a harder trick off it but this was an homage to Anthony Pappalardo [the skater not the writer].

so there ya have it for now, contingent on what kinda stunts Nek and i get into tomorrow, i may just be able to put this retrospective to bed cause like Sartre said ‘it’s always now’.
cheerio!

Wormtown’s 2013 25 defining skate moments [15-11]

i along w/ others like my friend Lynn have long held the belief that the only good corporation is Dunkin Donuts. Dunkie’s has long held sway on my vagrant, far from Massachusetts heart and i’ve always supported their corporate coffee hegemony both here and in Florida. why, i was digging some of their donuts out of the dumpster and had just bought a medium regular when the police arrived and before you could say ‘donut interruptus’ i was in cuffs.
had i actually robbed the place i prolly wouldn’t have returned an hour later for Dunkies but my affinity is pretty strong.
apropos of the above and back to the countdown
15/ $1 coffees at Cumby’s has undermined all i held sacred in my nostalgia. my eldest younger sister and i have both worked for Dunkies but being out of work, in a recession no less, i’ve got no time for bourgie brand loyalty. $1 coffees go hard in the paint and are the start of every session w/ Nek. they know that ‘regular’ means cream and sugar and after being away from that arcane Masshole knowledge for far too long, i’m not going w/out. coinciding w/ ‘recession price coffee’ is everyone buying cigarette tubes, loose tobacco and manufacturing DIY filtered cigarettes [a step up from the rollies that street kids smoke]. as such we smoke twice as many but they’re half as cheap w/ the new taxes. [$9 a pack my asshole!] for a time i was sending $50 for a carton to a friend in a more tobacco friendly state but it’s just easier to fall into the new local tradition and not place so much value on my ‘tailor-mades’.
14/ Nek’s drug addled brother leaves Maine and gets hungry to skate. as someone who’s always been around skating he’s learned a few tricks via osmosis but always taken it for granted. w/ his newfound sobriety he’s hungry for skating, much in the same way as when i got clean once and rob remarked ‘you’re skating like a crackhead’ meaning i was trying to land everything. it’s a hunger, making up for lost time, replacing an old yearning w/ a more positive one. ya prolly can’t tell it from this clip but homie is gonna improve a ton this yr if he keeps on the program.

13/ nek had this video part he considered ‘almost done’. it’s either a summer old, 2 or 3 summers old depending on his memory of what he did last summer. [i know what he did last summer] at any rate, he didn’t do any handrails w/ me, he didn’t jump down dangerous flights of stairs but he did enough that he was happy w/ in order to publish it. here ya go!

12/ i consider switch 3 flips to be the holy grail of flatground. they’re not the hardest but i love the symmetry of 3 flips and being able to do them the other 3 stances it would be the feather in my fedora if fedora’s weren’t gaylord. so it would be the feather in my bonnet. nek can do them on banks and i’ve landed on some but never rode one away straight. but one day Nek was getting close at Holmes Field to nollie bigspin flips and i asked to try and got lucky. here’s one at the start of this line.

11/ king richard is dead, long live king richard! the young boy we usedta refer to as Kid Fresh has grown into a man. a man who’s let his skateboarding fall into decline in order to frisbee golf alongside the other burnout ex-skaters of the Worm. we’ve been blessed w/ his presence a few times this winter and every time he does tricks we can’t do faster than we can do the easy tricks we can do. i don’t personally enjoy being shown up every time i skate but like they say about chess, you won’t improve unless you play against better people. they say behind every homeless man is a foul woman [actually i say that but i hold that truth to be self evident] so hopefully richie continues down the path of skateboard destruction and not self destruction [that’s what i consider frisbee golf, a slow death].

2 in one night, i’m holding back the big happenings for the top 10. if you’re wondering ‘why aren’t there any other skaters besides you, Nek and a few other pals, in my solipsistic world, we are the only skaters. us and the pros i mean. besides us worcester is dead, worcester is dead, worcester is dead, worcester is dead!

Wormtown’s 2013 25 defining skate moments [20-16]

so the nek, his brother scott and i just finished a session at our own private parking garage that’s locked from the outside, accessible via rolling under a foot high rail and shimmy shimmy yah shimmy yah shimmy yaying down a cold metal pole. invite only!
after said session replete w/ DIY pyramid i took some benzos cause my nerves were shot!
forgive me if i sound redundant or retarded, it’s the pills writing. so back to the list.
20/ i broke my thumb. inspired by Pop’s attempt to mount a comeback from potentially similar, sinister lows as mine own, i spied a roof gap reminiscent of his on RECORD$ but wheelbit, broke my thumb, made the declaration ‘no roof gap for old men’ whilst washing blood from my hand enroute to receiving percosets. [not nearly enough percosets]
alas, due to bad blood betwixt my brother in law and i, the footage of said break and my lighthearted reaction aren’t available. instead i have some footage of me adapting to my new handicap [although this also is lacking since he made private some of my artsier crippled moments [the johnny depp for instance].

19/ mike leslie moves to providence. asides being one of my best friends and partner in exploring ethnic restaurants around the city, his departure creates a vacuum for a 30something to fall into as nature abhors a vacuum and who are we to piss off nature? we’re all creatures of love and light so we recruited the Biz out of a decade long skateboard hibernation. apparently it was beauty rest cause he’s looking better than ever.


welcome back Biz!
18/ we receive the 86 pennant from our favorite garage up the hill from the Centrum right around the same time security tries to get tough w/ us at the former Galleria [cum Fashion Outlets mall]. his vituperative nature in cockblocking our attempts at skateboard fun have rendered it my new illegal dumping ground. not as satisfying as a caught heelflip but fuck him!
17/ it took several variations of kickflip sex changes but between Nek and myself, we were able to beat Richie in a game of SKATE. i’ve actually taken out richie, nate keegan, rob and brian jarosz but conveniently nobody remembers that. if Nek and i were to utilize cunning we could prolly beat anyone by working together but ours is a nation of rugged individualists.
16/ the former homeless gentleman’s camp that my sister’s friend Neal brought books and blankets to on our way to the Bijou to watch ‘Born into This:the Bukowski documentary’ has been invaded by aliens who anally probed all the Holden skaters who lurk under there trying to pass themselves off as ‘urban’ and returned them to their warm beds none the wiser. as payment for the experiments these aliens left in their stead, some of the steepest most god awful skate obstacles since the time they made all those giant pyramids in Egypt sans a flat top. compared to those these ones are at least skateable though i fail to see the joy in them. i guess it’s novel for the fact that aliens built them though you’ll never hear it from the local [suburban] skaters who panhandle donations under the auspices of buying more ramps. 100% of the kickdowns they receive go to Narragansett beer and Native American Spirit cigarettes. occasionally the aliens touch down again and build more shitty ramps. contingent on who you ask this DIY skate park may be referred to as ‘WORMCIDE’, Warcide, or ‘the bridge’.


we’ve got a mini blizzard happening now so hopefully i’ll get out for some tales of ordinary radness like Buk and continue this list tomorrow. i need stimuli and context clues to keep up w/ this countdown.

Wormtown’s 2013 25 defining skate moments [25-21]

so, i’ve been reading Quartersnacks for what, 6 yrs? in that time i’ve wanted a ‘snackman’ shirt wicked bad but more relevant to here and now, i’ve always admired and looked forward to their ‘yrs end countdown top 25 skate events that defined nyc’ or whatever the frick it’s called.
i’d like to now start on my own list, sadder, less rappy, indie-rock-er, self absorbed-er and Wormtown-centric but kinda based offa theirs.
hope yuz enjoy!
25/ i get released from jail in florida for an armed robbery i did not commit [it was the one armed man!] no shit, i got charged w/ robbing a gas station that i’d been trying to hitch out of/receiving tips from customers and had genuine rapport w/ some of the workers. i’m a silver linings type wigger so i capitalized on my family’s newfound concern [i’d been homeless and exiled for 4 and a half yrs prior] to get a bus ticket home and pick up my skateboard. as you can see, my skills were diminished from pop tarts, ramen and slow walks around the dayroom + reading leisurely in bed X a month. i was a total fat piece of shit like Mac, eating a dozen donuts a day. look at this footage, i couldn’t ride off a 4 ft curb, my muscles just imploded.

24/ getting the homie hookup. Mike Leslie broke me off w/ a replacement Tasty deck to ride after the one Scully flowed me in Baton Rouge so i could afford to jump down the occasional 6, usually just as a victory lap for winning a game of SKATE at East Park. Mr Lesbo flowed me another deck or 2 and helped facilitate my joyous summer.
23/ this song came to inform my summer. if you see footage of me ‘pokerfacing’ it’s because of this hateful homage. nek knew it too and said his daughter liked the normal version but he’d try to steer her towards the westboro baptist cover. only when she’s much older will she concede how cool her dad was.

22/ Dirtnek builds a box. like Quartersnacks got 12th and A or whatever, we’ve got a field hockey court at Holmes Field [locals only, must have valid 01604 ID to skate. sorry, i’m not sorry] w/ perfect ground and sometimes indians playing cricket w/ their progeny, occasional rollerskating hockey jerks but mostly just us. asides putting Nek and myself ahead of the other 30somethings in flatground, his box helped us relearn all our old tricks and get stuff consistent again. his box wasn’t wide enough to manual [someone could but i wasn’t gonna] and more resembled a bench. he learned fs crook 270 out before a split in the wood gave way and he built another box. the new one is wider and better in every way w/ the exception of transport. it’s a heavy bitch especially when waterlogged.
21/ Nek’s flatbar. when i returned from Florida i was so awkward we skated it on it’s lowest setting, doublesided curb status. it accompanied us to Pigeon Parlor to act as ‘contest rail’ and was a mainstay at Holmes Field. recently Nek learned fs board bigspin out and i’ve relearned back lips and moved on to halfcab feebles. Biz after taking a decade hiatus 5-0s the whole thing and Rob, after proclaiming it to be ‘tiny’ fell off a 5050 and bonked his head, glasses flew askew.
thou shalt not speak ill of skate obstacles [or they’ll hand you your ass]. i’ll be back tomorrow or whenever i get the inkling to continue this labour of love. listen to Frente!

morrissey is sick of your negative memes

leave it to Morrissey to write songs championing the unemployed. or if not championing the unemployed, he’s going to bat on their behalf by dropping a turd on the philistines who think they’re better than because they’ve got a piece of shit job. this song makes me wanna go back in time, fuck up my life again and be a teenage dad.
‘and leave me alone w/ methadone and my modest home.’
alas, i’m a deadbeat dad not a kid but still. like the song’s protagonist i’m prolly happier than you.
i never really fucked w/ Morrissey’s solo stuff so much. Smiths go hard in the paint but asides ‘every day is like sunday’ it’s all new to me. musically it’s not as good but dude kills it lyrically either way.
i’m not one of those kooks who wants to run onstage and give him a hug and rip a piece of his shirt but prolly that’s one of the few celebrities who’d be interesting to meet. what did you think, i wanna meet Jaws and compliment him on spyhopping down stairs? skating is the greatest and most dangerous game but the perpetrators are perpetually boring, commensurate w/ their skill level. i know every time i learn a trick on a waxed ledge my personality wanes a bit.
i’d like to tell Morrissey how ‘a rush, a push and the land is ours’ makes me feel like maybe national socialism is a good idea for England. or Ireland? or am i misconstruing that song completely?
i don’t know but whatever you say, Morrissey. i too tried to join the real world instead of a scam but before i began, i was bored before i even began. [i fucked it up but that’s how i hear it]
fuck, i wanna start shoplifting again. i’ve been doing so good doing nothing but skating all the time w/ dirtnek. and being asexual which coincides w/ doing nothing but skating all the time w/ dirtnek. i’m ready to relapse into all my bad habits.
Morrissey, you’re my trigger.
good habits too. i’m reminded that i usedta be a vegatarian and i’m half a cunt for falling off w/ that.
sorry Moz.
did i ever tell you how for like a year my ‘sorrow’s native son’
‘would not rise for anyone?’
yeah, i thought i had that ‘condition’ but turns out i was just fuckered up on goofballs and didn’t like my girlfriend. did you know that about me, Morrissey?
i don’t think i’m one of those people but i kinda get it. gnarly soccer hooligans who don’t express themselves too well except w/ violence, they’ve got an outlet in Smiths/Morrissey. or maybe they’re just queer for him but i don’t think so. if this dude were a Catholic priest everyone would go to Mass every Sunday. i don’t mean in the hopes of getting diddled but prolly that too.
i think everything is a piece of shit and celebrities especially cause anytime people agree on something they’re wrong but Moz is legit in my book. i usually only reserve that for anyone who’s done something nice to me in real life which i guess he has in an abstract way. thanks guy!
[ps if anyone has his autobiography can i borrow it? worcester public library is being a margaret thatcher cunt about it]

serendipity LAMF!

i wrote something a long time ago how i thought [minor] car crashes were rad cause they’re a spontaneous reminder to embrace life and they bring people together. for literal too, as this DPW guy Murph told us repeatedly to ‘watch out, you’re gonna get married!’ stuck on the Pike w/ 3 tires. i’ve prolly also mentioned something about how neat it is catching a wrong train and making an unexpected visit to Canada or where ever. if you never heard me say it, guess i just mentioned it. wicked situationist, yo!
so now i’ll add to that list nek’s board falling through the cracks at the ‘blue garage’ and ending in the unreachable basement. we’ve always thought about going down there but there doesn’t seem to be an exit/way back up. you can crawl under the rail/fence path his board followed and drop 10 ft but who knows, we may be stuck in there like mac and charlie in that swimming pool. unlike those jokers, we are not white trash!

we were unfulfilled w/ our little plot of dry land anyways and adventure was afoot so i jimmyrigged my way down a pole and opened a door so’s Nek and Richie could access the new basement via Pleasant st.
our spot is located behind ‘the glass building’ and in the basement were a ton of spare windows cause birds must all the time be flying into panes. or maybe anti-corporate, anti-bank types shoot them out w/ pellet guns?
fuck do i know, i’m not so much a part of things as i admire and ride my board on whatever people place there. we took some wood that houses glass and made de facto manny pads. they were bouncy and weird and whatever Nek and i bailed Richie was able to land switch.
no good motherfucker!
as the cold November rain gives way to cold December snow and our garage parameters are further narrowed by cunt security guards who threaten ‘i’m a real cop, i’ll call for backup’ this new find is a blessing.
plans always fall through but the unpredictable happenings are what make life awesome. cause trust me, my plans weren’t that cool. no seriously, my plan is like getting 2 coffees at Cumby’s and putting some TableTalk pies on my foodcard. by large margin my mistakes way outweigh my plans.
so here’s one of the spagtacular maneuvers on a plow we stumbled upon. thanks serendipity.

[sorry, nek doesn’t want me to spoil anyone’s appetites for our edits by leaking good footage but i did land it.]

my wetbrain girlfriend

everyone knows Portland is wicked liberal. i liked it although i was all the time rolling my eyes, surreptitiously. Portland wanted you to succeed even if your goal was blocking the doors of a grocery store w/ an obscene sign soliciting tips for your vice. it was totally shtoops but i ran w/ it.

my first year or 2 on the road i would switch my sign every day to prove to myself i wasn’t besotted. like, not for permanant. i’d write some inside joke about ‘this priapism won’t go away’ or whatever so the gravity of my isolation wouldn’t get me down. i’d adopted a Fred Meyers on 39th and Hawthorne that i’d drink in front of all day. it was pretty dope, i had regulars, hot indie girls would buy me sushi and i’d just all the time be sipping on something.

Portland, nanny town that she is, had a drunk tank that wasn’t jail. it’s called the Hooper. if you got found sleeping drunk you would be abducted and taken there. unpleasant but preferable to jail and the attendant cycle of missed court dates and jail that accompany a trip to jail. jail jail jail!

so i drank myself shtooops off a sign that read ‘WILL DO CUNNILINGUS FOR FOOD’. some drunk blond street girl had seen it and said something rude. after hours in the Hooper filling up on chicken soup and water i was released. i seen the blond girl from the morning and she asked ‘aren’t you that guy w/ the ‘will eat pussy for food’ sign?

‘no, it said ‘will do cunnilingus for food’.

‘what’s cunnilingus?’ she asked.

‘it means eat pussy’ i explained didactically.

‘what are you doing now?’

‘i’ve got some change, gonna get a Joose.’

‘i’m coming w/ ya!’

and we were off, on the great NW tour. we sat outside a Plaid Pantry and some guys asked us to create a diversion to aid a beer run. most stores in Portland employ a ‘no chase’ policy meaning if you make it out the store, ‘my ghouls 1, 2, 3!’

my new girlfriend ‘Kristen’ flashed her tits and the gentleman got away w/ 2 30 packs of Budweiser but absconded before hooking us up. i could’ve been mad but i like how everyone in Portland is up to mischief and sort of in cahoots.

we sat outside, panhandling shitty beer after shitty beer. eventually we made it back to the porch of a vacant i slept on.

‘this place is cursed’ she tells me, dragging me to the backyard.

we made fuck on the grass and i went to bed pretty pleased w/ myself.

the next morning we woke up still drunk and finished off our leftover Hurricanes. it became a ritual, she’d take a sip and puke, i’d laugh, she’d tell me ‘don’t laugh at me’ and i’d reply ‘i’m not, i’m laughing cause i’m next.’

then i’d take a sip and puke and start the cycle again.

i was all the time shitbagged but was pretty stoked to have a co-spanger i could throw my dick in. in daylight she had a perpetual scowl that initially had thrown me off but i got used to. fuck it, she was blond and had awesome tits!

she told me that she usedta be Germ’s girlfriend and he’d commandeered her car and done some other foul shit ergo the ‘usedta be’. i’d met Germ at Burnside yrs before. he could start on that wicked high wall by where the Mexicans w/ the new kits usedta sell black tar and drop in on his ass, buttboard down all that vert and little hump that comes out and somehow ride away on his back to the front of the park like a wigger on a waterslide. don’t know if he did any other tricks but i was amazed by that.

Kristen started proving to be total shitshow. i’d walk out of Safeway w/ a 30 pack and 3 beers in, she’s yelling at a yuppie in the park for taking a tennis ball away from his dog. ‘that’s animal abuse you fuckin yuppie! i’m gonna take your dog!’

all the time she was blatantly stealing hot sauce out of a bar or something equi-retarded. i learned to find the humor in it for the most part and we’d go back to our backyard and i’d eat her homeless pussy. it wasn’t gross or anything but it sure is fun to type. in some cultures homeless pussy is a delicacy.

overcome by a heatwave we hitched out to Lincoln City at some point. were we together a wk? a month? i have no idea. but it was a lot cooler there temperature-wise and the panhandling was ok. the shoplifting though, it was to die for!

i’d leave our tent on the beach and hustle up her whiskey, our cigarettes and boost my beer then bring it back to her. w/ a rotisserie chicken or some brie. whatever i filled my cart w/ that day.

whiskey-bent and retarded, she turned on me one day. got me in a fight w/ a guy and a girl that i didn’t want any part of. once i’d extricated my hair from the broad’s fingers i left the beach and ended up at Lincoln City skatepark for a wk w/ a deck, wheels and no trucks.

i was pretty shitshow, myself.

made acquaintances w/ the girlfriend of the Burnside guy who got stabbed in the eye and she brought me back to Portland. i’d acquired trucks and had a little late night carve w/ some folks then got back on my blackout program.

ran back into Kristen a wk or a month later while i was drinking w/ my pal Jason. who am i to tell her she can’t drink my stolen beer w/ us? we had another buddy ‘Lonnie’ who i’d dubbed ‘god’s gift to homeless culture’. when it was his turn to boost beer he asked my advice ‘should i bring the bb gun?’

‘NO Lonnie! do not bring your gun in the store!’

dude was on one but it made for incessant comedy. Jason convinced Kristen that he needed a sad sack blowjob. those aren’t the words he used but dude was all the time kicked out by his baby mama, supposedly DTing and his eyes tearing up. he and i did play a great game of SKATE on Baldo’s board once so he wasn’t a total pile but his attitude was defeatist. i told Kristen she owed me an ‘i’m sorry for being a cunt’ blowjob and Lonnie couldn’t think of a good reason why he was owed one.

i felt like it was time to leave Portland and was intent on going w/ Lonnie’s crazy ass but Jason was more coherent so i agreed to go w/ him. he couldn’t pull his weight though so i bombed Hawthorne towards the Steel Bridge while he powerwalked behind talkin about ‘let’s get a beer and discuss this’.

unfortunately i caught a wrong train to Hermiston and not south to California. a few wks later i ran back into Jason. never did see Kristen again but some day i will return to Portland in order to collect my ‘sorry for being a cunt’ blowjob.

why you should make home movies

i was just wondering who filmed all those home movies of Daniel Johnston. granted he’s a talented sonofbitch but damned if there isn’t an inordinate amount of loose footage of the man, pre-fame.
i get nostalgic for all the places i’ve lived and look up youtube skate videos made there. i stayed in Cleveland off and on from 02-04 after admiring it’s downtown on many a lonesome greyhound trip. i won’t say it wasn’t as good as it looked, i wasn’t as good. you know how sometimes your heart is bigger than your stomach? yeah, it was like that.
Kristian Svitak has been a name i’ve known forever [he turned pro in the late 90s] but i’m hyped on his home movie w/ an emotional Minor Threat song [if you know the lyrics].
even though most people don’t do anything very interesting i halfass wish more people would post home movies. what’s good is subjective anyways. my ma thinks Daniel Johnston is ‘the emperor’s new clothes’ but i think he’s the dopeshow.
does everyone need to film every dinner they cook like they’re Rachel Ray? maybe not. but half my favorite thing about skating w/ Dirtnek every day is drinking coffee and smoking on the ride to the spot, exchanging [self described] witty banter over college radio. prolly there’s a million gems lost cause we don’t have someone taping our car rides.
my ex’s parents were neat but i really don’t have any emotional attachment to anyone i met in cleveland. i’ve got a son there i’ve never met but that’s a different story.
when i think back on Cleveland, i reminisce about Tower City, skating down Superior, drinking on the traintracks, swimming in Lake Erie, the illegal art of Coupe, Anoy and Ridl and getting Amish country eggs from Westside Market. or little diners like Shay’s and dives like Mitzy’s.
kind of odd to not have one friend in a place but still hold a strong attachment.
spickin of no friends there, i don’t have a spec of footage either. i really wish i was watching my home videos of Tower City and the flatbar outside of Daffy Dan’s.
alas.
in 200 yrs nobody is going to know you existed unless ya leave something. chances are it’ll be a piece of shit but Stryper’s great great grandkids will at least know they come from a long line of kooks.
me and Nek drove by a loading dock in back of Ralph’s/Lucky’s Cafe tonight that i’d kickflip manualed [once in 02 when the cleveland bird kicked me out for a wk and once] recently. it’s all a dug up pile of dirt now. glad i landed it this summer, albeit sketchily.
pretty soon all our memories are gonna be bulldozed if ya don’t document em. and everything you love will die! just kidding.
i had a different girlfriend w/ a home movie of herself doing backflips and other weird stuff w/ camera effects set to ‘White Wedding’ by Billy Idol. as kooky as that sounds it’s basically what skate videos are and definitely one of the neater things i’ve seen. it’s ok to be self absorbed if you’re artsy about it.