Thursday, January 29, 2009

work...question mark

woke thursday feelin like a million bucks in the lap of luxury that is evan, chris, herm and one other maniacs house. seriously, first awoken at 7 am to a dude in full army gear. he was slamming protein shakes and firing off blank rounds from his 45 in the kitchen at a picture of bin laden. i tried to close my eyes again but the fear tears were not having it. a good hour goes by before i manage to drift off again only for deja vu to startle me back up. next man is dressed like tommy lee jones in under siege, and not the good parts with the stripper and the cake but the scary parts where he is going to use the submarine to destroy life on earth. that was herm and it was about 8 now. fuck. stupid story short, i got up early and showered and finished my half drank sparks from the night before. skated flat ground in the back yard, chain smoked and waited for the ultimate psychopath jt to run 81 miles and chrevan (as i call them) to wake up. finally the four horsemen were up and about and ready for coffee and a drive to the convention center for GaySR. we dragged evan along simply because he is amazing and forgot to care about anything for the last 5 years. dropped him around 9 to do whatever it is that he needed to do by himself at 9 am in downtown san diego and the 3 of us went into the darkness...

this is the ride that jt rented. best. thing. ever. travolta in get shorty had nothing on him. we stickered it up real nice and fuckin rocked it the whole time. hey chris, whatcha doin back there?

once inside the convention center we went our separate ways and i found the mini ramp. but they wouldnt let anyone skate it. sweet set up, that is so ACTION of you sports retailers. lame.

found some babes doing some surf brudda thing or whatever. who knows? lord knows they had no clue why they were there. probably went home with kelly slater the night before and this was one of the conditions of being able to pet his head or some shit.

this was a save titties booth or something similar. being the philanthropist that i am i stopped by to talk about the cause and make up some stories about myself. i think i was the king of england or santa clause at this point.

met the dudes again to discuss world politics and the russian novelists of the 14th century.

took a lunch break from slaving away and met up with lacey on her break and found evan. he had cured the common cold while roaming the city. look how proud he is. handsome to boot.

i am not quite sure how to explain this fellow. his name was julius or romulous or beavis, couldnt tell you. anywho, he was insane. he made all sorts of fucked up claims about all sorts of fucked up junk. i think he was related to mufasa from the lion king, or maybe it was peter pan. either way he was a total kick in the pants good time and drunk as charlie sheen is at the exact moment nobody reads this.

chris is a rep for our buddy matt mattoons wax company so they showed up too. go buy it, it is called Matunas. not to mention if you cannot support someone named matt mattoon then you are a traitor and a comi, end of story.

then like any good adventure i met a local rapper/singer/songwriter/G. this fellow hails from seattle but relocated to diego. his name is culpepper, his album is entitled "town business vol. 1" and his phone number is 206-612-7900 or 206-612-1093. seriously, hit him up!
he cruised up to hustle his record and came with a pretty dope flow. i was impressed but i wanted something on the fly so i asked him to spit 16 about san diego. while i cannot remember what he said exactly i know that he started with three consecutive lines ending in "san diego", "jose canseco" and "muy bueno". i pooped a little in my pants and bought 10 copies.

nyce 1 is repping sf in the sd. niiiiice one!

"no you're beautiful", "no you are"...slap!

if you are keeping count this is bartender number 2 of the trip that wanted me dead. sooo unamused by my rants. peep my lurky friend, so sick.

i know fred, i love it too. can we go home now?

think we worked some more then made it back to laceys downtown. i have NO idea what is going on here. we were playing some board game, it was super sweet.

i sent this to vh1, they said they were done casting this season of "i am the next supermodel" but that they would file it away for next time. i will keep you all posted on that one.

we match. george, remember when i bought that shirt in montana for 33 cents in 2001? ya, i resist change.

ummm? i got nothing here. except i swear i am more handsome than that. promise.

hold still and i promise i wont burn your whole fuckin head off. lights out conor, evan take me home please? thank you. good night world. stay tuned for my birthday where i was even uglier!

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

short sleeve shirt over long sleeve

day one of my excursion consisted of driving there in the Thrasher van. end of that story. second day was the first trade show skate dude fest held at block box in carlsbad. home to zero, fallen, slave, mystery and probably some other shit. all pretty legit workings but the best thing they have is an insane skatepark in their warehouse where the chief lets delinquent underachievers seeking to overachieve lay their heads at night. we got up butt ass early to go set up the booth and start mingling. all around good day but this post is going to end up being dedicated to one girl who at least managed to keep me entertained throughout the affair. more to follow.
we did our jobs, glad handed like good little boys and made a few sales to boot. then i got out of that place and headed to a suburb of san diego cleverly titled pacific beach, being that it is a...shit you get where this is going.

the street corner booth was next door and my main men were holding it down.

other heads were there but the sf crew was straight ballin down in the middle.

my partner in crime, the one and only uncle burly. so cool. loves cigs and being negative.

we were right across from this place so we could witness the shredding while chatting up socal bros.

phelps was there. the man, the myth, the maniac. these were shop dudes i was talking to and they had Thrasher tattoos so they asked for a photo with him, they got more than they bargained for.
so not only did the corner booth have fred, moose, nick, nick and tony. they had a kissing booth with the all new Hubba girl:

whatever her name was would kiss you on the cheek for a buck. which is weak as hell but hey she was one of about 3 chicks in a crowd of a couple thousand dudes...dressed like what can you do?

moose was feelin in

st corner nick was layin out the funds.

antwaun dixon got real into it.

theotis and manny loved it from afar so manny decided some decisive action was in store...

close up.

marisa del santo got hers.

jt sat right there the whole time. i wonder what his view was?

he was prob looking at this kid. couple of perverts.

even the americanized santa was in on the fun. if you can call it that.

figured why not, right?

the orchestrator of the whole shebang. the big boss himself.

and fred was in love. end of story. good bye Hubba chick, whoever you were.

my good good pal was there. senor brooks, blog wars 09. its on muthafucker! no @ or * or $ needed on HFTU!
headed inside for the best trick contest extravaganza. found the homie:

straight hustlin.

chris cole did everything on everything. my camera sucked inside that dump so i quit early.

mad fools.
bounced outta carlsbad and hit the town with the old crew.

met up with this maniac, mister clever and the kyle potter. had some photos but would not upload. anyway, you know them. i love them. made it too a couple bars but these pictures of this bartender are the last i have. she was not friendly to me. i was drunk so i dont blame her one bit.

so peace out for now, more to come.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

same outfits

day after the bday party for larkin st gals and day before the day before lil weezy it was...a saturday? what. something. anyway, the house was in pretty decent shape considering the debauchery that went down the night before but nonetheless needed some sprucing up. the girls were more than happy to come help but in the meantime i still had mr. evan to dilly dally with. we woke up next to each other in my bed, which is a twin, in the same outfits as night before and decided then and there we should move this fest to the living room. no homo.
there is little to no point in this post except i had these pictures and need to get them up here so i can move on to other bullshit only a couple people on the planet care to see. so here are some photos from team clean up day, 2008. oh what a year. side note, anyone familiar with that frankie valli song "oh what a night"..."late december back in 63, what a very special time for me, as i remember WHAT A NIGHT!" i love that song. first skatenerd out there to tell me who used that song for a part wins a kiss. i am looking at you george.

aint no other way to start the day than champagne and unopened oj. god, that jersey is so sick.

told you same outfits. baby dog got a little make up treatment from someone who knows how to do it. he went to cosmetology school once. true story, look at him go.

dope wardrobe, better eyes.

the cleaners. r.i.p black sparks. you shall be missed.

amy joined in the bubbly fun.

as did the silverfootes.

matty and the clev showing some HFTU hug styley

these babes really wanted that disco ball back. i think they got it back? i know it was fucked though.

mid mornin nap status until...

the maniac awoke the other maniac.

some dancing began after the sweepin.

chip prefers the nazi death march "dance".

ali and ross borden zorden showed up for a couple of the hottest beers in sf '08.

just too photogenic to pass up.

polk pad living room is too fun to not smile like an etard at lovefest.

see what i mean?

shit be contagious son!

kenna showed up post sun down. then promptly left. fear i tell you.

a little corner love for these two. fuckin perverts.

while her sister makes out kelly miles makes an impact and kicks out the jams. she rules.

little boob job for the ultimate sf fan.

nighttime has falleth, house is clean-er than before now.

why wouldnt i take a picture of myself for no apparent reason? oh ya, i look gooood. well, ok...or decent at least.

now that is goood.

finally got out of the pad and went to hyphy. why? cause chris was here of course. then some random ass brawl broke out and i ran home alone. only to lose my phone, in my own room. yep, that happened.

more dudes in my bed. i am like the complete opposite of brad pitt. hella dude magnet. HFTU out.