What’s Tantrum Sex?

In my advanced and grumpy age I tend to avoid looking at most other skateboarding sites because all they really tend to do is bum me out. I think it’s the whole “skateboarding is VERY serious business” way some people go about it all. There are a few that I really enjoy though, Platinum Seagulls of course being one, and the MKE site being another, but they really haven’t been updating that thing very much. Sometimes I get on a Crailtap kick, but I can also go for months without looking at it at all.

Recently, a new site has been added to my short list of approved non bumming me out skateboarding related web zones: Skate Illinois. The ultimate beacons of LOLing there are of course the HAKAS series of video clips. The best being 10 and 11. I’d rather watch these things 1,000 times before I have to watch some stupid little kid’s newest HD efforts to be an over dramatic slow motion panning shot Ty Evans. Can those cameras film faster than real time too? Dudes should think about using that and stop wasting everyone’s time. Uh, sorry, visit Skate Illinois, it’s cool (and usually updated several times a day).

I have a final bunch of photos from SD.

Saturday morning was our final chance to skate. Stumbling upon this jet ski behind a business was a great discovery to us as huge fans of skating the stupidest things possible. I wonder if Russ is the first person to ever back smith a personal water craft?

The Phantom Blader shed his outer carapace and taking a cue from hermit crabs of the world, Troy took it for a spin.

This was the final time the Sienna was loaded up like this. A sad moment.

After skating, we started the journey to Los Angeles.


This was the first of many peeing stops. There were some fishing poles just chilling behind the urinal bushes.

A high point of the drive, and perhaps my sad, pathetic little life. I think I got more excited for the exit sign for Crenshaw BLVD than any other “point of interest” I’ve ever visited on a trip. Maybe the first time I saw Love Park when I was a little guy was just as good, but this was almost as exciting. In fact, I was so moved that I was unable to take an acceptable photo of the landmark. I’m sorry Arabian Prince, Ren, and Yella.

We arrived at Faythe’s show, and mingled a bit. I was so troll’d on CLs that I unabashedly killed all the cheese left on the appetizer platter. That of course prompted Russ to make some jokes about Wisconsin and cheese. Isn’t California the cheese capitol now? That’s some bullshit.

The place where the show was had a fantastic view of Downtown LA and a pool and hot tub on the roof. Definitely a bit too classy for us trolls. Especially the condition we were in. Joe called the hot tub a “heated bath”. It was great.

After Faythe’s show, it was time to go to Heather and Sarah’s cousin’s show. This was supposed to be a photo of HK liquor, but I was pretty much incapable of working a camera at this point.

The pizza place across the street from the show had run out of slices and was charging the single slice price for a whole mini pizza. A great bit of luck. Joe was so stoked that he got two.

“The Smolik” was the pose of choice for so many photos that night.

Heather took this photo of the rowdy backseat section of the Sienna.

Chinatown Wu.

Troy has a knack for bonding with stray cats. This China town buddy was no exception.

Troy was angrily ejected from Hop Louie for playing with fire. I thought it might get serious for a second, but Troy happily sauntered out of there and rode one of those kiddie car ride things like they have at grocery stores.

Soon after it was time to drive South again. Rusty was out of commission, so Russ had to man the wheel. We didn’t really know where we were going, but somehow we made it out just fine. Gotta give Russ a big high five on not falling asleep during the drive and successfully navigating us home. When we pulled up at the house it was discovered that Troy had fallen asleep in David’s lap. A touching moment.

It was time to sleep and I tried to sleep on the couch, but Troy’s inexplicably loud snoring kept me wide awake. I took my pillow under the pool table in the next room, but I could still hear him. Drastic measures were needed, and I tried to sleep in the garage next to David’s motorcycle. That sucked, so I just went outside and watched the sun come up. Stemper later told me “Stemper doesn’t snore, but Troy does.”

In the morning everyone was so zorched that no one woke up to take me to the airport. Like big boys, using the power of the internet, Russ and I figured out how to get there. Since I needed to leave way before him and he had the time, we hopped in the Sienna and he drove me to the airport.

Fin.