...More Than Galen and Miles

A Shop for All Seasons and Forever

2012-01-02T14:27:00.000-08:00

Memories of Autumn

2001-2011

There is a tendency to consider things older than ourselves permanent into our future since we have no memory of a time without them. Autumn was in New York City before I was and it had soldiered on for so long that I only imagined that it would continue to do that. Now the shop is closed. I will be thankful if this writing of Autumn’s death proves premature or temporary. Its rebirth is the SnackMan’s number one prediction for 2012 and my fervent hope too, right up there with last year’s prediction of Slicky Boy switch Nosegrinding a handrail. I feel the coming of both may arrive jointly, or once Slicky Boy’s rap money allows him to buy out the whole block of 9th St, reinstate Autumn with the bowl on site and start the Tompkins Deli back again too with a nightclub downstairs that will create its own Barmuda Triangle with Blind Barber and Lit. A resurrection of Autumn would be similar to the creation of Nobel Prizes once the living Mr. Nobel was declared dead in the press, that is a chance to live again more vigorously than ever before in the celebration of ideals, effort and truth, for all of which Autumn was a beacon despite its lack of extensive storefront signage. It existed in location and aesthetic right between Supreme and KCDC. The development of the gentleman skater genre owes much to Autumn. One time this kid asked the Philosopher how to get to Autumn and Philosopher told him to stick around the TF till 7:30 then help carry the box back to the shop.

The first time I visited Autumn in 2004 I saw a shuttered storefront in daylight and thought it had gone out of business. In my life as a skater in search of skateshops I have come across a vacant location more than once. In this case I came from Indiana and had the address of the old 2nd St location. Then I read a sign that directed me to Autumn’s second and for now, last location that would anchor my location for much of my time in New York.

My first visit did not result in a purchase. Snackman is right, there was no complimentary massage at Autumn. I don’t remember who sat behind the counter in silence. I was free to browse as I wished. I wanted to buy a Tino Is My Homeboy shirt but had not met Tino at the time, only seen him in videos. I wondered if that made me his homeboy and once I was in the shop my conscience wouldn’t let me buy the shirt even though I was certain we would get along once we met. I was younger then and didn’t realize that at a store in a city where no one knew me no one would know who I knew. But then I figured everyone who knew would know. I didn’t think how Autumn would appreciate the money because Autumn was a shop that needed money to run. I picked up an issue of Vice for free. Anyway, I would be back and spend money there, though the Tino shirts had sold out by the time I met him.

In skate shops it is acceptable behavior to sit all day reading a magazine. This is also a discreet way to monitor the comings and goings in the shop. There was the friendly repartee with the UPS man and the shop gave him a pair of shoes he had asked about. I saw Clyde Singleton out front and had to call my friends in Indiana to tell them. Patrick O’Dell was there sometimes and I saw Spanky. I had read Patrick O’Dell and T. Barrow’s writing about Autumn in the magazines, how O’Dell had mail delivered there and Ted conducted Gentlemen’s meetings in the back. Epiclylaterd was my laptop homepage before Quartersnacks emerged from the death of 5050skateboarding. Since I was too young for the Fish at the time, Autumn was my best chance to see the people who do things that are cool in New York on their daily grind.

The mid point of this millenium’s first decade was in the heydey of the allover print t-shirt, and I purchased a rainbow shirt with diagonal striped colorful print and the black shirt with white stars all over it, the same one FlatBar Dave had. Owner Dave Mims’ wife Kristen was working that day, before I knew her as Dave the owner’s wife and I felt like this beautiful woman was giving me a homie deal because I wasn’t charged tax, but then I was unaware of tax free shopping since I was new to the city.

I was sitting at the shop one evening, reading a magazine, when people were going to the Autumn Bowl and asked me if I wanted to come. We drove in Dave’s car with Alex Porta and Oscar. I couldn’t believe I’d been asked to tag along when I was quiet. Once in Greenpoint we made my first walk down the alleyway type thing and walked on planks set down over standing water, then were in. Some other dudes were already there and the session was too heavy for me so I dropped in and took a couple cruises through but ended up sessioning the mini ramp in the other room with Oscar. The last time I skated the bowl I did my first grind in the deep end. I guess the fact that the Autumn Bowl closed was proof that Autumn didn’t have the funds to maintain a Brooklyn outpost that was not a store, rather an amazing, beautiful handwrought space that existed only for stoke, but Autumn did the best things as much as it was able and we all benefited from all of them.

My parents came to visit my first fall and we saw Dave walking through Tompkins Square and he stopped and introduced himself and my parents were happy to see that I was friends with quality people. It was easy to find quality people at Autumn. Paulgar sat behind the counter cool as can be with pomade in his hair drinking iced coffee on a summer day when the shop was hot with no airconditioning, one fan running and the door propped open with the tail of a snapped deck. Grandpa would price things in his mind and always was generous. It was said that the whole city was on Autumn flow. I cannot wait much longer for Jilleen and Brengar to collaborate on the Autumn video that has still not come out. There was the Zero style Grandpa pro model wearing his beanie that hung at the tresh hold to the back. Charles Chatov and Brett Land worked there some and called me the Prophet when I would come in there dazed from contemplating skate theory and needing an outlet. Brett Land’s Doghouse made of skateboards was in the storefront for a while. The front window was also a first home to the world’s finest example of contemporary portraiture, Gigliotti’s study of Brengar with the popsicle. One time last year I called the store and asked if Dharam was there. I knew he wouldn’t be, but wanted to keep his name on people’s lips and heard laughter over the line when Dave announced my question to whoever else was in the store.

My first board purchase from the shop was a dipped white 5Boro Virgin Mary board and I learned switch crooked grinds on the black flat box at Tompkins right after I set it up. I bought my first Zip Zinger there then Jake Hanly and I kicked it in south Tompkins and watched The Virgins play. Many times I used the shop tools to assemble the hand me down boards that Roctakon offered. There was the board that had all of the photographs of girls blowing bubble gum and they were the girls I wanted to meet in New York.

One time at the Fish Ted Barrow told me if I went up and talked to this girl she would kiss me. I walked up to her and told her I liked her dress. She said “Really?” I told her yeah, that the pattern was remarkable. Soon enough we had gone outside and were kissing. When I came back in to grab my board to leave, Ted focused my board in front of me. He then apologized and said he owed me a board. Three years later he told me to stop by the shop and there was a Workshop cruiser board covered in Aesthetics and Autumn stickers waiting for me.

At the end of my first schoolyear in New York, before I left for Indiana for the summer, Jeremy Corley, he of the 100 dollar haircut and small dog, said I could take a Slayer shirt on the house. I wore the black shirt often that summer and have used it as a pillowcase. There was the burning Church t-shirt in orange that I gave to a friend, The bela Lugosi is dead t-shirt an ex-girlfriend took off me one night to have sex with me again anyway. The No-Beach t-shirt that I have managed to keep free of stains. The Morrissey in Supreme font t-shirts in black on black and white on white. The white Autumn hoody with the green circle logo on back I like to wear with the Orange Helmut Lang jeans I picked up from the 12 and A flea market when that was still running. Autumn sold the Palace t-shirts that help attract models. I gave my all over print horror movie tshirt to this girl in Brooklyn maybe named Zoe after we made out one night at a party. There was the Fuck The Police t-shirt with Sting’s band on the front. Autumn had better vintage pieces at more reasonable prices than anywhere in the East Village, the only skateshop in the universe where you could find Yves Saint Laurent and Brooks Brothers collars. I bought my first Five Brothers flannel that I am wearing in my current facebook profile picture from Autumn. On a number of occasions I grabbed an extra layer before heading somewhere. One time I bought a longsleeved black metal band t-shirt and we were debating how much Dave should charge me. Someone pointed out that it would sell for 100 at Search and Destroy. Having seen Miles’s purchases there I believed that. Dave ended up giving it to me for 25. On the front it had skeletons in electric chairs sitting down to the Last Supper. On the back it featured a baby’s head in a vice with the words “I was Born Alive. Isn’t that punishment enough?”

Much of the time Autumn didn’t have stickers, but when they did they were great and generously distributed. They may not have had many shoes, but the shoes they did have were straight from Dave Caddo’s packages. The Chief in the frame watched you while you tried on clothes. Andy Kessler’s last shoes found a home at the highest point in the shop. There were few things better to do than moving the bench out front in pleasant weather and watching the girls walk past while assembling a board. No matter how inconsistent Autumn’s soft goods selection could have been, they always had boards and all the hardware that you needed to stay skating which is the most basic and important definition of a skate shop.

Danny Weiss and I were in there with Miles on his 18th Birthday when Grandpa searched up a Deluxe catalogue and Miles took the Anti-Hero Eagle, added an American flag to its talons and we headed down to St. Marks for Miles's first tattoo.

I was in New York most recently in November. I wanted to maximize my time in the city so took the first flight in. No one was really stirring when I made it to the East Village with my bags before noon. I waited at Autumn until Dave rolled up to open the shop. He let me leave my bags there until I figured out where I would be sleeping.

Before the shop closed for good, the shop closed at 7:30. There were the times in the summer when the box or ledge would have to go inside when there was still prime shredding going on in late daylight at TF. In the winter, the box would be returned when it was dark before 5 and we hung around the shop because it was too early to go home and too cold to be outside. The TV didn’t always work, but you could crowd around the counter in back and watch whatever the employee wanted to see on youtube. I remember Slicky Boy unsuccessfully trying to get Martin to play an A$AP song but he obliged to look up another beat on the condition that Slicky Boy freestyle over it. There was the bathroom with toilet paper roll on the truck where the wheel would go that was a preferred stop to the Tompkins park facilities. Autumn gladly provided a venue for me to distribute my short stories. Roctakon tre flipped inside the shop and taildropped out of it. I have never been into the shop that Waka Flocka blessed on 11th St because I always went to Autumn instead. This winter I’ve been wearing the yellow Charlie brown hat and my favorite black Autumn pants ever that I have in sizes from 28 to 36 and keep wearing long after I have had to have all the top buttons replaced. Autumn was the place Jake Johnson returned to after his days spent wandering, where Lurker Lou saw him that morning as he finished painting the front of Autumn’s pull down screen.

My first winter in New York, after darkness shut down the TF, I was in a pizza shop up Avenue A one night with Ryan Chin. Mike Wright stopped in with a pair of IPath Cats with Shearling inside and said that we were eating where ABC skate shop used to be. I had seen the video with Matt Rzeszutko’s part in it, but I had no idea where the shop had been. We thanked Mike for the knowledge.

The last time I went to Autumn was on my last night of my most recent time in New York. I went over after the TF got dark with an hour to spare before meeting Liz to talk about Miles. Switch Back Ted had just set up a board and wanted me to confirm that one of the handsome dancing characters on the fresh Mike Carroll graphic looked like him. The Snow Man and the 12th St Assassin stopped in then left to play Uno. Jilleen came in and offered me a beer straight off. She was with Julian whose band the Morning Benders made Torey Pudwill’s song in the Transworld video. We set about kicking it, talked about when we listened to music on Discmans and only the good ones had shock control, and I filmed them doing slappies on the box in the shop. I bought Jerry Hsu’s Decapitated Bart Simpson tshirt that Ted told me was a slim fit that I wouldn't like. I had overheard him say this to someone else a few days earlier and knew this to be the case, but was buying the shirt for a friend and told him so. Martin was at the counter reading a pocket edition of a populist novel set in developing California. I gave him a crisp 20 in exchange for the shirt. Liz’s haircut took longer than expected so I walked down to the beer store and returned Jilleen and Julian’s beer favor as we continued to lurk. When Liz was finished I left the store with the t-shirt that I would end up using as a scarf that chilly night. I said goodbye to everyone there, but did not known I was saying goodbye to the shop. I had no idea that less than 2 months later as we celebrated Autumn's 10th Anniversary the shop was set to close.

I imagined returning to New York in the spring and finding Autumn just as I left it that last night. Now I will return to a different New York. I am sure this closing will effect TF and world culture to some great extent. At least product can outlast the stores that produce them and I will treasure my Autumn product now more than ever. As Grandpa said in that interview, everybody is on the Autumn team. As 2012 begins we have lost a beloved sponsor that I was proud to support. For now Autumn can exist in products, words, video, our hearts and minds and Lurker Lou’s Autumn paint job still riding on the pulldown grate that marks where this skateshop Autumn once lived.

That's that wave

2011-12-04T19:37:00.000-08:00

do you hate me in the light? Did you get a fright when you looked across from where you lay?

2011-10-06T20:44:00.001-07:00

IPHUN –

A video made by the roommate of the shop employee at Infinity in Saint Louis who sold me the video and identified a spot I drew’s location in Kansas City.

Joe Koplowitz, a Saint Louis native, has said that the best plots involve losers turned winners. At the 11:50 mark of iphun there is an unexpected micronarrative, when, in the course of a bluntstall attempt on a bank to wall, the back wheels fail to lock above the wall. The skater loses contact with his board. Initially he looks destined to fall to his head, then appears he may recover only to land credit card, or avoid that and twist an ankle, then shoot out and smack his head. Instead, his feet somehow land on the board and he rolls away, tic tacking to fakie. This flirtation with disaster brings to mind Lincoln Uyeda’s faux-loss of control ender in 7 Year Glitch. The footage is a reminder of the occasional miraculousness that skateboarding begets, the singular event that stands out in one’s mind among a lifetime of 10% success at backside tailslides.

The video begins with scrolling words in the Star Wars manner, that tell how little of a shit the creator gives about our opinions. The words scroll by very fast, at once a speed literacy test and disregard of text. Theattemptatreadingwithoutapausebuttonisfurthercomplicatedbyadesiretolistentotheclassysongofinvitationintothisvideomade “fer der hermez by der hermez.”

One of the homies is named Chill Von Penguin, there will be blood, and the dudes skate a concrete plaza spot with block sets and ledges. Someone rolls smokes while driving, another gives a quality attempt at a front-shove it, unhappy authority figureheads spew their language to unappreciative ears, and remarkably, a boy performs a beer can renegade to lit cigarette swallow that inspires devotion from those present. Hardware store parking lots at night can be a reliable spot.

There is a even mixture of street skating, an extensive DIY spot under a freeway that probably has a daily scene, and park skating of both the concrete and prefabricated genres, mostly done by boys, though an older longhair shines with a nollie back heel on a natural bank. The soundtrack is an unremarkable punk rock for a while, though one can imagine how fans memorize the mantras yelled over fast chords. Someone made the six hour drive to stick an ollie down the biggest stair set at Dyrdek’s Kettering Plaza.

The editing includes some still party shots, then a sequence ends with freestyle rapping from a white boy wearing a bicycle helmet and elbow pads. One of the present commentators claims his performance to be a million dollar freestyle that we receive at discount rate. Along with consistent skating, iphun has provided a trio of unique thrills and shone some light on the relationships formed between young males brought together by the magnet of skateboarding.

We see a boy growing stomach hair, more raps from the helmet boy while his brothers contribute beatboxing and OJ da Juiceman ad-libs. One boy with long jean shorts and tattoos does a good line through a concrete park that ends with a blunt shove transfer over a spine. A boy in a bedroom inhales redi-whips then tries his hand at freestyling. A skater wearing flip-flops tre flips in a garage, some do boardsports at a backyard pool party with pizza delivery in the middle while Juvenile raps then the vomit spews to feel better after it happens with the offensive substance expelled.

The boy in the Hawaiian shirt leads a competent session at an abandoned toilet that may have shit inside it. Interactions with the detached bathroom piece bring to mind Duchamps urinal and methods of appropriation. Someone does a varial heel the hard way over a hip. One narrative test depicts the patient, frustrated, persistent process of landing a crooked grind on the table level of a picnic bench along with the friendship and shit talking that occurs in the process. A taquito party is proposed, then we know success is destined with the opening chords of Morrissey’s song from Roctakon’s t-shirt in his gold dunk days and Josh Orr’s You are the Quarry double feature part in The Other Side of Things, “Irish Blood, English Heart.”

We watch a birthday session at a roller rink with white walls and floor that bring to mind the gallery space. A skater wears the outfit black half cabs, olive pants and navy shirt. The video ends on a strong note some big tricks, homie tats, skating on spots with no concrete and girls shotgunning beers. Infinity shop may be one of the few skateshops in existence without a Nike account and the lack of swoosh trickles down to the skate footage. The video presentation of a large healthy scene with no one having a part or anything reminds me of the Hollywood video with the long name in the checkered case. There’s a half pipe snake run that the Axe Throwers may come to session next summer. Our boys session a fullpipe and clean a bong. The after credits song by the Felice Brothers features the haunting line “He seems to know something I don’t know about my lover’s whereabouts.” There are plenty of Bonus Features if you’re in the mood to get your money’s worth.

For further interaction call Infinity at 314 843 1989. They’ve been around since 1999 so can probably figure out how to take your 5 dollars over the phone. Alternately, you can be the first person to send me 10 dollars and I’ll send you my copy with a signed copy of this review.

My shades are dark, can't see no art

2011-08-17T12:41:00.000-07:00

This is an unpublished introduction to my review of R. Zarka's skateboarding chronology that appeared on Quartersnacks

http://quartersnacks.com/2011/08/book-review-on-a-day-with-no-waves-a-chronicle-of-skateboarding-by-raphael-zarka/#comment-23398

The Snackman was supposed to have been here forty minutes ago, but there are worse places to wait for a meeting than the rooftop of the Standard Hotel. The magic of that second vodka gimlet coursed through my veins while Anabel Dexter-Jones walked past laughing at something Lou Doillon told her. As the sun set over New Jersey, I BBMed with the Two Foot Gangster about unemployment benefits and listened to an advance copy of the Slicky Boy and Mr. Gorgeous mixtape.

On my next drink of the gimlet I could hear the straw slurping the bottom, a sound that would bring any attentive waitress over momentarily. I hoped the Snackman was still coming, since I had spent nearly all of my money at Sin City last night and looked forward to charging these drinks on the Quartersnacks black card. I felt a vibration on the table and my phone showed the Snackman had texted. He would arrive in ten minutes. I looked up to see my attentive waitress asking if she might serve me another of the same.

“Yes, please.”

Once Snackman arrived, he placed an order for a Henny black.

“You mean the Mr. Moya special,” our waitress confirmed.

“Yes, please.” He turned his attention to me. “Sorry I’m late. I had to meet with Lomez up at the polo grounds and he was behind schedule because the homie Chlorine was late coming through with the Lemonheads.” I assured him that I had not minded the delay and asked about the business that brought us here this evening.

“Right,” he said, as he took his first sip of Henny, set the glass back down and opened his drawstring backpack to produce a book that he set on the table before me. The paperback edition bore a black cover and read On a Day With No Waves. A Chronicle of Skateboarding 1779-2009 by Raphaël Zarka. “Have you heard about this thing?”
I hadn’t.

“Scott Bourne gave it to me in Barcelona last week. He said that ever since Slap stopped doing his Black Box column, Quartersnacks has been skateboarding’s most literate institution so he thought we might enjoy it at least, give it a review at most. It’s financed in part by Carhartt Europe, presumably in lieu of opening their shop behind Supreme. Would you be interested in reading this and doing a write-up?”

“You know I am, daddy.”

“Good looks, G-Man. I knew I could count on you. I would do it myself, but between keeping up with Travis Porter singles for the Rap Desk and preparing that Comme des Garcons line with Rei, I doubt I’d find the time.”

I assured the Snackman his faith in me was well founded and he said cool. I was grateful my camouflage pants had cargo pockets as I stowed the book there for safekeeping. Reading and writing the review would only take time. Making sure the book made it home with me was the difficult part. We clinked our glasses and set about enjoying the evening. Traphouse Conner would start spinning in the Boom Boom Room at 10, and Doug Park, Boss Bauer and Roctakon joined our table as the hour approached. Bauer caught Dree Hemingway’s eye and she came over to ask after Marquez. We told her that he was hot on the trail of Ayman al-Zawahiri so she suggested we drink to Marquez’s patriotism and back tail 270s reverts.

The drinks, girls and Brick Squad songs soon began to run together, then the last thing I remember is Snackman walking through the pool with a topless girl on his shoulders while Mooney’s surrounded by two blondes giving him a beard of foam and calling him the Santa Claus of Spring Street. I woke up in the morning, fully dressed, alone in my bed with my laptop opened to my last girlfriend’s facebook photos and the book still in my cargo pocket. I scraped under the sofa for enough change to go out for a bagel, came back from the deli and sat down to work.

nollie flips and jump shots promo #2

2011-06-08T22:29:00.000-07:00

Nollie Flips & Jump Shots 2nd Promo from galensnacks on Vimeo.

a pond of two tales

2011-04-09T13:20:00.001-07:00

saw some small creatures during yardwork

coming soon: 38th Street News
sup bros
time to head to putnam county

Travis started off the session

hobie heated up and kept reeling them in
we went to a second pond that was less windy. here is where i caught my fish.
i feel compelled to walk around the perimeter of bodies of water whenever possible.
this trek proved difficult
especially with a fishing pole

but i perservered
turns out that it was the fishing hook rather than the thorns that snagged me
nice
jamie was our host at this second pond
the bounty

the white river is within its banks
went for a spin on party mike's Tomos. note the blue jean pocket, for sparkplugs and whatever else.

wear a long jacket as long as my jacket

2011-04-04T12:14:00.000-07:00

RIP to the J-Mart aka The Olde Towne Mart

these fragments i have shored against my ruins

2011-03-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

this is cash that i spent in japan. it must have gone toward drinks and shoes. please continue to keep sending good vibes and red cross donations japan's way
bird on patrol

mr dans is good. they are open 24 hours, have a variety of burger toppings and sprinkle seasoning salt on their fries. also, you can wash your car while on the block.

white girls love st. patrick's day. my middle name is patrick so the holiday is worthwhile for me. it is the day of the year when my birthday festivities finally draw to a close.

i took the photo since the pup was loving the day, yat's is also present, so props to them.

this is at Indianapolis Museum of Art. It's part of this vast depiction of hell and is most likely the best piece of art in the museum. it's good to know that people were thinking about hell in creative ways a long time ago.
this lady, laurel fletcher, was married to booth tarkington for a minute.
this cost 50 cents and will look good enough to eat, so is nearly a quartersnack.

the misspelling is fitting

this maserati doesn't run right now, but maybe this isn't the last you will see of the machine.
once i told jessica latus about the pinball machine, she knew the truck stop of which i spoke

late night session at hutch's ramp. timing action shots on a digital camera takes effort.
so do front feebles.

passed times, pastimes

2011-03-06T17:06:00.000-08:00

How has the past year or two been? Here is some evidence of my past season's life when I had a camera with me.

Thanks to the graciousness of Roctakon and the DJ Kango and Arisa wedding party, I found myself in Tokyo for a week.
My first night view of Tokyo from the Hotel Cerulean. It was such a dope hotel. The showers were glass enclosed party spaces and there was a really good french pastry shop downstairs.
Here is me at Club Harlem with the homie and excellent tour guide Hiro Numata. From airport arrival to airport departure, Hiro knew of the best parties, best places to drink beer, best places for birdwatching, best ways to hail cabs, best places to look at old clothes, etc, etc.
Here is the lovely betrothed couple, DJ Kango and Arisa.
here we are at Feria. This is where the european model girls go, or something. DJ Mateo was spinning hard.

once I started partying at this table was around the last of my memories.
hiro described this establishment as "snobby." It did not serve the drink Le Baron that helps make its Parisian counterpart so memorable. Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to see a photo of Le Baron Andre while in a foreign land.

When we first walked into Club Harlem, Salute by Dipset was playing and we knew we had found a home away from home.

Roctakon and DJ Alamaki. We found this restaurant on our own and ate there twice. It is the Japanese Lovely Day, more or less.

Here is Roctakon and the groom himself, DJ Kango at the wedding reception.

Roctakon and I skated around without much grand success at spot finding, besides this gem. We imagined it being like someone coming to the East Village and looking for spots. Perhaps we were just in the wrong areas. Luckily, we would have a guide on our last night.
Pryce put us in touch with the homie Yo Sawada. He came and picked us up from the hotel. I was going to sit shotgun so I stood in front of the door waiting for him to open it. He was standing beside me and I wondered what was going on. Then I remembered that what is shotgun in America is the driver's seat in Japan. So I walked to the other side. He took us to good spots and we had a thrilling night of skating around. We generally took video instead of photos. stay stacking, etc.
Props to Huf for doing a nose wheelie at this spot. The ground was rough, the run up was from where I took the photo and the tiles are slippery.
in search of refreshments, we found a convenience store. Yo left his board outside and went in. We figured we should too, since this is not a practice I would practice most places.
I wanted to visit this spot after seeing the Cliche dudes rip it in Bon Appetit. Yo led us there.

It is a pleasure to see photos of Ryan Hickey on the walls in a foreign land.
I'm not sure how many of these are left in the world.

stop into Great Burger in Harujuku if you want to see this sign and eat an excellent burger. We did twice.
thanks to burton money? the Sovereign Sect has a Tokyo outpost. It was a treat to see Alex Davis's face on a poster in a foreign land.
one person in this photo was not born on January 30th
yes, Jerum's birthday is not January 30th
Harlem Jazz and Gospel Getaway
There was a Andy Warhol exhibit at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. He made this for a set of Tiffany's christmas cards.

For christmas my parents gifted me a value world gift card. What a great, long lasting treat. There is usually at least one good collared shirt to be found. I used to get all of my Five Brothers flannels from these stores but have not seen as many around in the past two years.
If you go to the highest point in Indianapolis, you will find yourself atop a hill in Crown Hill Cemetery at the tomb of James Whitcomb Riley, the great Hoosier poet. Then you can bomb the hill back down. It is a steep curvy bomb and probably the most thrilling thing you can do in Indianapolis.
i saw this spot from an interstate off ramp. the run up is very difficult to navigate and i would be impressed if anyone was able to skate it.
Around Christmastime, those Indy Beautes present had a meeting with General Tso. Pat Binkley came down from Chicago with his girlfriend who took the photograph, Chris Francis of quite frankly fame flew in from San Diego, Mike Hobie bought a new dodge truck, and Ryan Weddle's house is the broad ripple headquarters
I prefer skating in contact lenses, but the ex games offers optical products as well
the big kid enters my domain

this skeleton was on the back patio one morning. I saw some feathers elsewhere so hypothesize that this is from a bird.
Galen, Ryan Weddle and Pat Hill drove to Columbus, Ohio for the premiere of the latest IGLU crew masterwork, Whassamatta You? With each copy of the video came a homemade scratchoff ticket made from acrylic paint and dishwashing liquid. took more video than photos.
ginger was there. we watched The Ginger Video twice with great pleasure
sweet dreams homies

back like cooked crack vol 3

2010-01-31T17:46:00.000-08:00

what happened to your queer party friends?

2008-11-26T09:00:00.000-08:00

ten days of perfect tunes

2008-11-21T16:18:00.001-08:00

who could blame her if she's sleeping?

2008-08-02T16:06:00.000-07:00

eastbound-n-down

2008-07-20T10:12:00.001-07:00

love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket

2008-07-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

if kurupt gave a fuck about a bitch, i'd always be broke / i'd never have no motherfuckin endo to smoke

2008-06-28T14:31:00.001-07:00

i want to interlude in the nude

2008-06-27T17:47:00.001-07:00

a necklace made of pharaohs' bones

2008-06-24T23:16:00.000-07:00

nosy people get it too

2008-06-20T23:33:00.000-07:00

Franklin flooded. Tyler took photos.

when i come to y'all hood y'all watch my back / and when you come to inglewood i'ma front you a sack

2008-06-14T08:01:00.000-07:00

2008-06-07T12:52:00.001-07:00

building the dream with elevators in it

2008-06-06T13:52:00.000-07:00

"all your money will be wasted on beer and cabs"

snitch mobile!
probably not going to montreal
cracka

~first night on handicam~

-next day

fuck yeah!
pj ladd spot

-we want to find a place with a shower
what you find in a motel room that costs 30/hr
what you find in a motel room that costs 30/hr
fun!
about to eat the worst meal of our lives in the most depressing restaurant i've visited
kfc sells out. it stands for something unAmerican
finally. we can read a stop sign.

these three shots in thimble form are about the equivalent of one at the fish

the bar had a miniramp! and accepted our $$$$s

HOW TO OWN CANADA

-Hey, do you take real money? (flash Benjamin)
-Non.
-Oh, so you want this play money? (drop random unAmerican bills on counter)
-Oui.
-I can't wait to vote for McCain in the election.

blame canada

apparently this plastic biodegrades

good food for a change
what up babe
asap
duty flee
this is showing how cigarettes make your dick limp
psst
they record both your motions and speech on video!!!!

the customs dudes were dicks. they didn't believe we were american. in canada they let us watch while they searched the car. in america they didn't let us watch and when we got back we noticed marks all along the passenger side of the car that we hadn't seen before. the dude who was questioning us hated me because i was laughing the whole time. he asked me what was funny and i didn't respond. he asked me if i wore my tshirt in front of my parents. i told him i hadn't seen my parents since i'd been given it. he gave me my shit back and then i put it in my flannel pocket. then he asked me what was in my pocket. i told him it was the things he just examined and then dared him to call me out on it. he let me go.
god bless america
both her cheeks and breasts protrude
fuck yeah, back to the land of cheap gas. 84 dollar canadian fillups are doint.
yeah!
yes!

~then to beatrice~

she said she love my necklace, started relaxin' / now that's what the fuck i call a chain reaction

2008-06-03T09:08:00.000-07:00

god's son across the belly

2008-06-03T08:43:00.001-07:00

but what's on his back? this, apparently. can't wait! thanks kf.

in morethangalenandmiles news, more than galen and miles (kosta) will be leaving the safe and familiar confines of the motherland to visit the enemy state of montreal. multiple forms of govt ID are necessary to cross the border both ways but don't worry that's taken care of. i'll be bringing my digicam which means there might be a photo update soon! there will also be a handicam and a real videocamera in the mix, so both of those kinda explain themselves. we'll be back thursday (maybe).

2008-05-27T13:16:00.000-07:00

Transmutation
by Catherine Cho

He woke with his hand curled in her hair

She'd been baking all morning
He could smell it
on her skin.
Pineapple cream and
cookie shaped hearts.

He took her hand
Tongue tracing over
her fingers -
catching the grains
of sugar stained skin.
Wishing
eyes closed
As if he could hold her
there
sugar on his tongue

But he could feel it
disappearing already.
dissolved.

--
Is it selfish
of me to only want parts of you
divided up
a butcher’s market –
your hands –
the way your fingers curl
and your body shakes
yes those things I can say
for those I have fallen
the intake
and the gasp
as you fight
and I remain.

maybe now we don't fit together but / you've got your arms around no one but strangers

2008-05-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

the actual video is awesome, but universal sucks and disabled embedding on it. oh well. go to http://youtube.com/watch?v=Q0hlqHHgSX0 and love it.

we could be looking for the same thing

2008-05-21T09:44:00.000-07:00

later laf!

trips to paris i civilize every savage / gimme one shot i turn trife life to lavish

2008-05-16T12:58:00.000-07:00

jill has a blog. http://heavydiscussion.blogspot.com/
photos next time actually
this is from it.

Monday, May 12, 2008

FUCK THE SFPD!!!

Hogtied, arm breaking, whatever. I fucking hate the SFPD, for all the progressiveness SF tries to front, this city is still a police state. Cops don't get into trouble for shit and at this rate they probably never will! The Office of Citizen Complaints is garbage, they don't do shit! And I will testify to that. They don't tell you anything about the officer/s you file against, whether they have 1, 3, or 20 complaints against them. There are no hearings, no follow ups nothing, but apparently once in a very long while you will get a mystery check for $235,000 because you are a petite pre school teacher being attacked by a fucking gorilla who probably wears sunglasses at night.Police groups are only making it harder to pass bills that would allow officer misconduct records to be made public.

and yes, this is actually the fucking guy

S.F.

settles excessive force suit for $235,000
Seth Rosenfeld, Chronicle Staff Writer
Sunday, May 11, 2008

Kelly Medora, a petite preschool teacher who weighed about 118 pounds, went out with a friend in North Beach one Saturday night in 2005 for some fun.

Instead, San Francisco police officer Christopher Damonte, who weighed about 250 pounds, arrested her for jaywalking, twisted her arm behind her back and broke it with an audible crack.

Although Damonte and the city denied wrongdoing, the city recently mailed Medora a check for $235,000, the largest amount ever to settle a lawsuit claiming San Francisco police used excessive force not involving a weapon.

The Office of Citizen Complaints, meanwhile, has found that Damonte used excessive force in the incident and that another officer failed to investigate Medora's complaint. Damonte faces a disciplinary hearing at the Police Commission and potential punishment including dismissal. Damonte, 41, a six-year veteran of the department, has been the subject of other misconduct complaints, according to city sources. He was admonished in 2003 for inappropriately threatening to arrest a woman without authority, and he is among more than 18 officers disciplined for their role in the controversial 2005 Bayview Police Station videos, which Mayor Gavin Newsom denounced as racist, sexist and homophobic.

Damonte declined to comment. Matt Dorsey, spokesman for City Attorney Dennis Herrera, said the officers in the Medora case did nothing wrong, and the city settled only to avoid a potentially more costly jury verdict.

Eileen Burke, Medora's lawyer, said the case showed police failed to properly investigate misconduct claims. In a 2006 series, The Chronicle reported that the Police Department had a history of failing to control officers who repeatedly resorted to force. Chief Heather Fong said at the time that she was developing better ways to identify problem officers. "We've made a lot of progress," said Sgt. Neville Gittens, department spokesman.

The North Beach arm-breaking incident highlights the kind of police misconduct records that have become secret under a recent state Supreme Court ruling known as the Copley case. Gittens cited the ruling in saying the department would have no comment on the Medora incident. Details of the incident became public because Medora filed a lawsuit in federal court accusing Damonte of intentionally using excessive force. In defending the suit, the city was required to make public some evidence.

According to court records, the evening of Jan. 23, 2005, began serenely for Medora, 27, a teacher at the Helen Diller Family Preschool. After dinner in her Russian Hill apartment, she and a friend walked down to a club on Broadway, where each had two single-shot vodka and soda drinks, according to testimony.
They left at about midnight and walked west on Broadway, which was crowded with revelers. Her friend stepped from the sidewalk between two parked cars to hail a cab. Medora stepped off the curb behind her. There was no oncoming traffic.

Seconds later, Damonte approached. From this point on, the officers' and teacher's accounts diverge.

Robert Bonta, the deputy city attorney representing the police, said in court records that Medora and her friend had endangered themselves and others by walking into Broadway. He said Damonte and another officer asked them to get out of the street and said they would be cited.
Medora walked away. When Damonte caught up to her, he said, she refused to give him her driver's license. When police detained her, she allegedly screamed, struggled and struck an officer. The city later said she was drunk, but the officers didn't cite her for that.

According to Medora's account, Damonte seemed "irate" and "angry" from the start.

"I was fearful just of his demeanor," she testified. "He was definitely very threatening with the questions he was asking and his body language and his facial expression, the tone of voice he was using.

"
Damonte grabbed her friend's arm, held it up by her face and demanded she tell him her age, Medora said. Damonte said he would cite her, but didn't say why. Medora saw the name "R. Fitzpatrick" on Damonte's jacket - he had borrowed it from another officer - and asked if that was his name. This seemed to set him off, she said. He said yes and demanded why she wanted to know.

"I don't believe you're treating my friend appropriately," she replied, court records show. "You haven't told us what we're being cited for. Please let go of her arm.

"

Medora said Damonte started to scream at her. Fearful, she said she turned and walked up to another officer and complained about Damonte. By her account, Damonte then demanded Medora's driver's license. Medora said she'd give him her license if he told her what she did.Instead, Damonte said "detain her," by this account, and he and two other officers surrounded her. She said she did not resist them, but merely clutched her purse. Then Damonte grabbed her right arm.

"It all happened very quick," she testified. "Like he physically took my arm and twisted it up back by my neck to a point where I was completely immobilized. And I said 'ow, ow.' And he pulled even harder, and he snapped it.

"

There was an audible "pop," according to a police report.
The city's lawyer said in court papers that Damonte used an approved method of holding her arm, but she struggled. Then "in an effort to escape," she squatted down and "broke her own arm.
Lawsuit's claims Medora cried out in pain. Police called an ambulance and cited her for jaywalking.

At Kaiser Hospital, she was treated for a spiral fracture to her right humerus. Medical records state she was not intoxicated. Medora said she phoned police from Kaiser to file a misconduct complaint, but no one responded.
Instead, an officer delivered a new citation for resisting, delaying and assaulting an officer. The charges were later dismissed.
In her suit, Medora said Damonte had used excessive force, and that another officer, then-Sgt. Timothy Oberzeir, failed to investigate the incident. Oberzeir did not respond to a call seeking comment.

After U.S. Magistrate Judge Elizabeth Laporte ruled there was enough evidence for the case to go to trial, the city settled.Laporte ruled that a jury could find that Damonte "intended to cause her extreme pain and distress by breaking her arm." There was even a question of whether the officers had cause to arrest Medora for jaywalking, the judge ruled.

Police Commission staff refused The Chronicle's request for a copy of any disciplinary charges pending against Damonte. Such records used to be public, but in an August 2006 decision urged by police groups, the state Supreme Court ruled them confidential personnel files. Assemblyman Mark Leno, D-San Francisco, introduced a bill last year to make police misconduct findings public, but the measure failed after police officers' groups lobbied against it.

As a result, while Californians can readily learn about sustained disciplinary actions concerning doctors, lawyers and judges, similar information about police officers is secret, said Terry Francke, a First Amendment lawyer with Californians Aware, a nonprofit group that advocates open government.Meanwhile, Damonte has filed a $1 million lawsuit against the city, saying Fong unfairly disciplined him for his part in the Bayview police videos. His suit is similar to a pending case brought by 18 other officers disciplined in the video case. The city denies the claims.

E-mail Seth Rosenfeld at srosenfeld@sfchronicle.com

illegal life trigger trife till we old and grey

2008-05-15T06:42:00.000-07:00

JARED CAMPBELL WINS!
JACK GREER SECOND!
AMALIA CHILD AND PETE CAVANAUGH GET THIRD and FOURTH!
&C.

THNX 2 U ALL

I WAS gonna quit the blog but i decided to keep doing it, so maybe an update soon? fotos. it's summertime in new york i hear.

i stand in front the judge about to lie plus i'm high too

2008-05-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

i just got a last entry for the contest. still vote on the previous comment box

"my girlfriend asked me 'what's up' just now. i said i wanted to break up with her because i didn't want the responsibility. it's new york. and it's summer"

tanning beds explode with rich women inside

2008-05-11T11:02:00.000-07:00

in perhaps a show of boredom with $ the first annual morethangalenandmiles writing contest $, i only got three entries for the second round. i don't really know of a particular voting method, so let's say that whoever gets the most votes in the comment box by 8 in the evening on wednesday is the champion. not that i can stop you, but only voting once seems the most honest. good luck, thanks.

1) Hello Jack, I say. He’s not really listening. No, he’s not really listening. Jack, instead, is playing with shadows and walking down the sidewalk playing with shadows and not listening.
Jack, be careful with your bounty. There will be a man and this man will want to take what it is that you value and he will give you danger in a felt tight sack. I tell him this, but he only walks down past playing with shadows.
Jack is whistling now and doing tricks like yo-yo gimmicks and ups and downs and cheap feats and children’s treats. Jack is not prepared for what is about to happen.
It is three in the afternoon and the market is alive. The market is a rotting fox carcass through a fast-motion lens; there are too many people. Jack is a little scared, but he thinks of his mother and he thinks of the food he has not eaten in too long, how long? he cannot count. Twenty dollars, Jack. That is what your mother told you.
A man buried in poverty comes up to Jack. The man, thinks Jack, smells like a step dad. Not inherently evil, but not inherently good. I tell Jack not to trust this man, but I am not audible. I am a brisk of wind, a finger dragged across the back of the neck and replaced by the scratch of the hand. Jack does not have a need for me. There is a desperation in the eye of poverty like the seal of a virgin. An oil spill honesty, the man presents Jack with a touching story book-ended by bullshit.
The man pets Jack’s cow and circles around the beast like a Westminster judge. The cow is not a blue ribbon; the cow does not make milk. The man thinks with a silly face. He thinks by making a face that says: I know this game better than you, son. The cow does not look American. Her ribs ride through like she has no air in her lungs and her body has already been raped of its meat. Jack, I say, make your way out. This man is a coyote and has ill intentions. Feed your friend with your neighbors plot, and she will give you what you need. Jack still doesn’t hear me.

2) For Whitney

When I met God today, I was surprised to find out that she’s a woman. But that didn’t stop me from asking her to dinner. She invited me back to her place where she offered me her body. We began on the divan.

Later we moved to God’s bathroom. She has a large mirror on the wall above her vanity. I liked it. I could watch myself fuck God from behind. She began to thrust powerfully back into me. I stumbled backward into her towel rack, a thin metal horizontal bar. It snapped in the center, and the two halves clattered to the floor.

Without looking she knew what had happened, but regardless, she asked me: “What did you do?”

“It wasn’t me. It was your power ass.”

It didn’t take long to find out God’s forgiveness is not eternal.

3) It was the worst day ever; the kind of day when the L train says "FUCK YOU hipsters stay where you belong and I'll just shuttle you from Union to Bedford and you can fester in the East Village until your one pair of pants is worn to threads and your B.O. makes the dogs crawl away in disgust and don't even try moving further into Brooklyn you can't handle it."
That kind of day, when a guy on the street takes up the whole sidewalk because he's attached a plastic bag to an umbrella and is using it to smear dog shit all over the pavement for no reason. When you're writing an awful paper about falconry in The Taming of the Shrew and it's your last paper ever for undergrad and you've printed it and are walking to hand it in when you realize you've left out the bibliography and it's two minutes to deadline so you have to say fuck it. When the 86-year-old receptionist at the publishing company you work for asks you to plug the cord of his computer mouse into the hard drive, which requires kneeling on the floor and bending over until you're under the desk with your legs in a short skirt and heels poking out for his special view. When one friend asks you to come along to the awkward birthday and stay as late as she needs because her ass hole friend is freezing her out and she needs you to act as her buffer but your roommate calls because she's locked out and needs you to come home as soon as possible. When another friend borrowed your earrings last week and forgot to tell you she lost one but when you ask if you can have them back she says, "I feel sooo bad. I'll replace them," and you have to try not to sound bitchy and pathetic when you say, "Yeah, they were my mom's from the 80s so don't worry about it I don't think you'll find them. I'll try to make this one into a necklace."
When your vendor makes your coffee wrong, and everyone's half an hour later than they say they'll be for things they invited you to, and no amount of beers manages to get you drunk enough. That kind of day.
So when you get to 8^th Ave to rush home and let your roommate in and it's 11:59PM on one of those weekends when the L goes wonky like a motherfucker and the guards tell you to "take a ticket and catch the M14 to Union" and you say fuck the M14 so you walk and beat the bus, but when you hit the platform a train is pulling out and the next one won't come for 32 minutes and then it comes and you make it to Bedford and wait 25 more minutes and finally snag one of those fold-out seats that you're supposed to give up for handicapped people, who you never see on the train anyway, you're bound to think, "This is going to be the day that a handicapped person needs my seat," but you close your eyes and lean back and it feels amazing. But as the train pulls out and you open your eyes just for a second because even after this fucking day you're all wired, you can't be surprised when a blind man is hovering over you and you have to add not giving up your seat to a handicapped person to the list of things that makes it the shittiest day ever.

2008-05-09T08:57:00.000-07:00

i don't go to my blog much anymore because i'm too busy looking at
ventonbitches.blogspot.com

it ain't no fun unless we all get some

2008-05-07T23:59:00.000-07:00

2008-05-04T01:44:00.001-07:00

ride it like a bullet

2008-04-30T09:23:00.001-07:00

just when you thought it was safe to go outside

2008-04-29T07:34:00.000-07:00

the first round winners are: 2, 3, 6, 7, 10, 12, 13, 16. that means that (in no corresponding order) Jared Campbell, Amalia Child, Dean Levin, Jack Greer, Max Palmer, Jake Fournier, Helen Manning, and Pete Cavanaugh will be competing in round 2.

next round starts monday!

do we need a miracle or The Miracles?

2008-04-28T16:16:00.000-07:00

odd in, awed in

2008-04-27T22:53:00.000-07:00

crazy, scream

2008-04-22T16:43:00.000-07:00

all my friends are dead

2008-04-18T15:52:00.000-07:00

money is a kind of poetry

2008-04-16T09:22:00.001-07:00

a crack up at the race riots

2008-04-14T08:53:00.000-07:00

letterman thinks you need 200 mill to make a movie. korine gives you a novel in a word.

every night we smash a mercedes-benz

2008-04-13T09:24:00.001-07:00

do you believe in mgm endings?

2008-04-11T08:37:00.000-07:00

clay ripping!

king of the world as far as i know

nothing matters when we're dancing
what up babe

armageddon has been in effect, grab a late pass

2008-04-11T00:58:00.000-07:00

15) I thrust my shining sword into his loin,

This man crumpled, stepping over him

I see a girl, she levitates my groin.

The chaos she was causing made me grim.

With duels and death surrounding us we fought

With icy grip she grasped my throbbing heart.

My heart in hand it was what she had sought
after. She killed her suitors as an art.

And yet I will not let that be my fate.

I see us kissing under the oak tree

With leaves a swirl, this is the perfect date.

She finds herself to be in love with me.

At last I place her gently on my bed,

And as I bend to kiss—“off with his head!”

16) So me and Ginger roll up to the back of Danger Zone
and park next to Perry’s truck. Him and Gary are in
the front seat with poodletits, just fuckin yelling.
We show up to the truck and poddletits leaves the
truck immediately. Perry is yelling “I had the girl,
in the truck, with the reggae, it was perfect”, and
apperntly gary had shown up then us and we fuckin
ruined it. Gary is chugging a half empty bag of wine
that he stole from the lame fratboy neighbors. Then
we were all in the back of the truck and Perry was
really pissed about us ruining his chance with
poodletits, and he blamed all of us but mostly me and
ginger even though we barley had anything to do with
it. First he tries to rough us up, but then him and
Gary resort to pissing off the side of the truck, so
Perry then tries to put his dick on me to get revenge
and I am forced to jump ship. I don’t if this was the
same night, it could have been the other night that
Larry the snitch showed up with a stolen bag of wine;
anyways then we started stacking shit on Gary when he
passed out, and he woke up cuddling a piece of wood,
and spilled a full beer that he had been balancing all
night. We convinced that he wanted to cuddle the
piece of wood. Then I walked outside and my car was
gone. Fuck.

send us your coordinates i'll send a saint bernard

2008-04-05T10:20:00.000-07:00

13) You see these mountains. Green and green and green into the sky. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? That’s why I love driving Route 6. You see everything ripple with the wind, like an ocean of swaying fingers—sometimes, I want to drift away on it until I’m soaked through with the yellow and green of the leaves.

You know. But I’m rambling again.

I remember when I was a younger girl growing up in Warren. I knew two things: the mountains and the refinery. My father was an oilman, you see. Well, almost. He worked on the machinery. At night he’d come home covered in the grime of the day—oil splotches like treetops against his face in all different shades of black and gray. He looked like a mountain face in winter. Anyway, he’s the one who taught me how to drive a stick, and that’s why I keep this blue pick-up. When I was small, he’d sit me right between his legs and rest his chin gently on the top of my head. Feel his stubble? Feel his chin? And he’d put my hands on the wheel under his, and, as I took control, he let them hover so that he could give me over to the road.

God, I miss him. Clear days like these, these are the days he’d take me out and show me the country. Clear days like these—God, if only I could sit down between the legs of a split mountain: He’d put his hands over mine, and I’d drive the wind.

14) "The Milburnian"

This vessel sails to far off lands,
A breathing machine crossing sea and sands.
A thousand blinking eyes, glistening teeth
Create an air of unyielding command.

Emerging, in birth, from the deep,
A crude apparatus of misbelief;
Though it cruises intimidatingly
On living flesh it opts not to reap.

I decided, out of curiosity,
To board the beast on open sea.
Between fin and flag I stood starboard,
Knowledge of its function I aimed to achieve.

The Milburnian moved on its own accord;
No fault was found in its nautical course.
T'was long ago fashioned as mode of transport
And, used as such, was wonderfully adored.

so many, i had not thought death had undone so many

2008-04-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

11) Working to deaden the spirit of the fire’s wild arms
we shine flashlights directly at it
so it produces only heat
but we’re already hot
so we move back and let it do nothing for us.

12) I have a crush on a girl in my class. She's from brooklyn and looks like it too, with a little bit of pearl jam and nirvana. She has two braids that go from her head to her waist and I've only seen her wear one pair of jeans cuffed at the bottom with a pair of converse type shoes that appear to be an ambiguous company. She paints feet and I know she has a wedge toe pinky because I saw the painting of it. It's like a pyramid and it scoops itself under the second toe. The first time I spoke to her I told her that she had a wedge toe because I didn't know what else to attempt to bring up. It made her blush. Since then, our conversations have ranged from k9 tooth infections to why everyone else in the world sucks. She hasn't blushed again though. Last night, a group of us went to her apartment for a party that she and her two roomates were throwing. It was 90s themed as though that was an excuse to play the music they definitely listen to on a daily basis. Her roomates are concerned about things being broken, stolen, or haphazardly dealt with to an extent that it ruins the image they're going for. I always end up falling for girls with cats. Must be some insecurity complex on their part. I've been smoking a lot of weed recently. She smokes weed and drinks balantine beer. I've consciously bought balantine beer when there's a chance for a potential run-in. This is stupid.

there's a lot to be done while your head is still young

2008-04-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

9) Joey came sprinting around third faster than he thought his little legs could ever move and slid in to home just as the ball got there. He knew he’d beat it. “Yerrrr out!” “Motherfucker!” yelled Joey. He meant to say it under his breath, but it came out louder and he didn’t give a shit anyways he said to himself. The ump grabbed his arm and escorted him over to his team’s dugout to inform his coach he would be thrown out if the kid said anything like that again. Joey’s fury of being called out still lingered, but he was already thinking about how he was going to get it from his dad now, who he knew was watching him like an eagle right then and heard everything.

The ride home was bad. Joey’s dad lectured him with anger in his voice the whole way. Kept saying things along the lines of keeping his temper under control and channeling it into baseball itself. Then going on to repeat as he had so many times before, that he had what it took and could make it into college or the big leagues if he worked hard. Joey’s twelve year old mind wasn’t experienced enough to challenge this statement with questions like, “what if I don’t want to work that hard at it?” Baseball was all Joey had played; all he knew.

When they got home Joey heard his dad telling his mom what had happened. He knew she’d be bummed, but not mad, like his dad. Joey heard his dad’s footsteps coming up the stairs later that night. He came into his room without knocking and informed Joey that he wasn’t allowed to play video games. “Who gives a shit?” Joey thought, since he really didn’t care about his Playstation he’d gotten two years ago. Then he told Joey he couldn’t go outside unless it was to swing the bat, throw the ball around with his dad, or go to practice. That one fucking blew.

Two days later, Joey was sitting inside after getting home from school. Looking out his opened window, he saw his neighbor riding a skateboard in his driveway, and even though he looked awkward as hell, it intrigued him. “Fuck it,” he said as he put on his shoes and went outside to ask his neighbor if he could try. His neighbor had just gotten the board that day, and said it was really neat, letting Joey have a try. Whoooshh! Joey ate shit, and scraped his elbow and landed on his hip. Later on in life, he would learn these sorts of things are called hippers and swellbows. They both picked up riding it sort of quickly, or at least they thought, since they had no comparison. In just a half hour, they were both riding down his neighbors slanted driveway, not going that fast, but feeling like they were sticking their heads out their parents car while driving. Riding it gave them the giggles, made them smile harder than ever, and Joey realized it shortened his breath, but not due to exercise. It was a excitement. It was freedom. He had no idea how strong that feeling would evolve into, but he couldn’t get enough. He knew his dad would be home soon, so after saying “one more,” about ten times, he reluctantly ran back inside his house. The next day at school, his excitement never ceased, continuing to run through his veins, as he daydreamed about riding the skateboard down the driveway when he got home. The rest of Joey’s life began then.

10) War of Follies

He trimmed a layer of stubble over his dark, angular jaw to look like a 5 o’clock shadow all the time. He kissed gently, so the sharp ends of the hair didn’t rub at my lips, but if we were at it for too long, I emerged with a pink tinge around my mouth like a wino slut. Still, I knew what I was getting into on that front. When he kissed elsewhere, the stubble had a more hostile impact. I had a different angular patch of hair to discipline, a camp of follicular soldiers in basic training. I usually waxed, but now…the danger of chafing was too vast.

His troops moved south in the open air. Mine were entrenched but vulnerable, quivering in the dark, awaiting the enemy’s nightly advances.

He fought orally, expertly.

He penetrated early and without faltering, deploying both the customary weapons and rhetorical strategy.

What, ho! I thought he came from the country of non-violent resistance! But indeed, this battle zone was only erogenous; the pain was hard to distinguish from the pleasure. My troops blushed at defeat and it took days to recover. I dealt one defensive blow, near the end, when I let the hair grow out overnight.

“What, are you fighting back now?” he whispered with a sarcastic growl, the sneering victor’s privilege.

“I couldn’t help it,” he wrote one night in December. It was the first of many times I heard him repeat the phrase.

“I couldn’t help it. It called my name with a sweet voice comparable to that of the sirens.” he continued, “Once it lured me into its lair, it paralyzed me with its beauty and when my defenses were down, it struck me with the fury of a thousand men. I should have known that I too would feel the sting of the thorns if I ventured to feel the soft touch of the rose….”

He was a compulsive cheater who recycled his favorite lines on his favorite girls. It should have been a preemptive warning to me when the most original speech he ever delivered was inspired by a thunderous queef, the vaginal battle cry of a siren scorned.

let's turn our backs on all the movie stars

2008-04-02T08:40:00.000-07:00

7) im free just got out of the pen, it was too sick, niggas snuck drugs into jail and then there was a sick like weird party going on in our pen, fools were smoking mad blunts. hits of dope people were in there telling the sickest like stories from being caught up in the island for 27 years and drug dealers who got caught up with just so many drugs on em from crack to herion and i almost baught a thizz from this sick latino kings fool. it was too dirty and soo hot i had to sleep on the floor but i tried to stay up the whole time. all we could eat was Cheese and bread sometimes you would get a mustard packet but i never got any mustard. 48 hours in that place bums were in there like sleeping next to ucien and were barking at him. i smell soo bad ima take a shower just got released i have community service and an osd for 6 months. only drink is milk fools were taking shits where you could see them and there dick and it would smell so bad there is a lot moresick stories but the most touching one was the fool who was in the island for 27 years was talking to me for like 2 hours and he said "ima miss you when you get out" and i said it back ima miss you to man. he was the homie always trying to pass the blunt to me first.
i appreciate life so much more

8) LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

petits pois

2008-04-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

adam michel is replacing ted barrow in the contest. sorry ted fans. adam is from kentucky

if you ain't smokey it ain't yo muthafuckin message

2008-04-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

5) Squirrel Lady

Some days I wanna be that squirrel lady. Don't you ever want to be that squirrel lady? The one in the park who brings the squirrels food every day and talks and clicks at them while they eat it. The one who stays until all the food she got is gone and then goes home to bring back more. That lady.

Sure, she looks a little weird. A little frazzled. She's the squirrel lady, for god's sake, and who knows what happened to make this the organizing principle of her life. But she loves it. Can't you tell? She loves to have a function, a purpose, a name--Squirrel Lady. How many of us have such a unique label?

And why shouldn't she love it? She's worn-looking, frazzled like I said, unraveling a little at the edges; but she has someplace to go every day, a structure, a purpose. She has a connection with living beings--knows which squirrels are male, female, old, young, pregnant, which ones like nuts and which like grapes. How one squirrel peels the grapes before she eats them, like I used to do when I was a kid. Don't we all want to believe we understand nature, we commune with nature, we speak to nature and nature speaks to us like no one else? And she has creatures that see her walking up and are so excited they come running. Granted it's because she has something tangible to offer, but how many people come running at you every day just because you have something tangible to offer? Let alone if you have something intangible; forget about it. Maybe Squirrel Lady understands something we don't.

Some days I really want to be Squirrel Lady. Mostly those days when I'm sure everyone understands something I don't.

6) Remember, you were stranded on that tiny island. All around you was the vast ocean and you couldn’t for the life of you recall how you got there. No, you didn’t have anything to eat. Nothing in your pockets, No crates of fruit washed ashore, and no wild beasts to hunt down. Not even a coconut. But all that didn’t matter, because (you remember now?) you didn’t have any fresh water. So you dug a hole and pissed in it and covered it with your Perry Ellis jacket. You sat under the partial shade of the island’s three palm trees while your piss condensed into water.

You started to think about the time when you watched all the ants going in and out of the cracks on the sidewalk. You sucked on a butterscotch candy for a minute and then sat it on the ground. You went inside to watch TV and then came back out to find the candy swarming with ants. You thought what if I was an ant, and then you spit on them. You kicked the candy away. Then you wondered if any of the ants got on your shoe, so you looked. There was one ant crawling on it, so you took your shoe off. You walked away barefoot thinking about how bad it must suck to be taken away from all your family and friends and candy syrup.

A few hours later you took another piss in your hole. It stung your urethra. You had been sweating buckets under the sun. It was hot. Pretty soon you were lightheaded. Then you were delusional. You thought about the time when you were a kid jumping in the fountain in the park. When no one was looking you ducked your head under the water. A man came up suddenly and held you under even longer. You were really drowning when your Dad came up and leveled the man. As you came up gasping, you were dizzy and your head was pounding. It was hot and it was cold. You saw your assailant lying on his back. It was a white man in a black suit with gray hair. You saw blood pouring from his nose over his crusty lips. Then you puked.
Isn’t that how it happened? Don’t you remember? You can’t be sure anymore. Could be it happened like that. But now there’s the sun over your head and water all around you and none to drink. You wanted off the sandy patch of shit. You were about to die and you wanted off.

That’s when I came sailing by. Aboard the U.S.S. Commerce I came gloriously in my captain’s hat. Looking trim and refreshed, I offered you a smile and a wave. I seemed angelic cruising way up high above the waves.

But then I did what I had set out to do. I gave you the finger and a “die motherfucker” and I left you to your little piece of parched paradise.

I was sailing out of sight. In fact, I was long gone. And remember that one word you managed to utter.

You said: “Thanks.”

when the death of your civilization precedes you

2008-03-31T08:14:00.000-07:00

3) Slouching towards Mecca

The foreign man stood in front of the terminal waiting for his plane to touch down. A flight attendant with brown hair pulled back tight against her head walked up to him. She was an employee for Delta and kept ten pairs of adhesive wings in her left pocket at all times. The wings created a slight bulge on her hip. She did not like this.

"May I help you find something, sir?" she asked the man. She was nervous because the man was standing instead of sitting and more importantly because he was brown.

"No, I am just waiting. Thank you," he returned. This did nothing to settle the nerves of the flight attendant. She thought horrible things: gum stick arson, pant leg shotgun.

"Okay." The flight attendant was clearly shaken. The foreign man felt sick. He looked at his watch and left the terminal. He walked down a wide hallway toward a magazine stand to get a bottle of water and a packet of gum. From the ceiling of the hallway hung flags of almost every country he could think of. The biggest one was one that had been centered at the end of the hallway back by his terminal. It was the flag for the United States of America. As he went down the hall, he saw adults staring at him. Some just kept their eyes wide; others let their mouths purse up and turn away quickly.

The foreign man walked back to the terminal and stood in his original spot. He uncapped the bottle of water and took it all in one long, satisfying gulp. He set the bottle down and upon raising himself back upright spied a couple watching his movements. He felt like an animal at a zoo. He felt like the new kid in school. He still felt sick.

A voice over the intercom rang thru the terminal telling the passengers that the flight to Boston would be delayed two hours. The voice apologized. The foreign man looked around and decided he could not wait for the plane.

One hour later, things were different. Things were different, and the foreign man did not feel sick.

4) “Dude, I have a blog. You have to see it. It’s really sick.”

“What kind of stuff do you post on there?”

“Just like….all types a random shit.”

“Oh, uh…”

“Oh shit, and I’m doing this writing contest too. Its gonna be really sick. Everyone pays like 5 bucks to enter it and then the winner gets like, however much money there is after everyone enters. Dude, you should be in it.”

“Fuck. I’m down. Here’s 5 bucks, I’m gonna grab another beer.”

“Will you grab me a shot of SoCo?”

“No.”

the money will roll right in

2008-03-30T13:07:00.001-07:00

The $ first annual morethangalenandmiles writing contest $ begins today. I'll be posting two numbered entries each day until the first round is done. all the contestants + me get to vote afterwards and then the next round starts.

Round 1, Fight

1) Why Bad Things Happen To Good People

Life's not fair. A sentiment most people believe in. Why did my grandpa die of cancer? Why did my friend get hurt in a car wreck? Why was that girl just messing with me? Why does my school/job suck?

Life's not fair. That's what we think.

What is fair anyways? The dictionary says it is "free from bias".

In a perfect world good things would always happen to good people and bad things would always happen to bad people. Sounds right, right? Unfortunately that would be about the most unfair and selfish thing that you could wish for.

Why do you hold doors open for strangers? Why do you write your mom a birthday card? Why do you complement a friend? You aren't guaranteed anything tangible for doing so. Who's to say that stranger doesn't make a sarcastic remark, your mom doesn't appreciate the card, your friend doesn't make fun of you. You do it anyways, not for yourself but for the betterment of someone else.

But what if we lived in that perfect world. That stranger, your mom, and your friend aren't rude to you. They avoid something bad happening to them and you are rewarded for doing good. Sounds good right? But this is where things get muddy.

Have you ever seen a trained dog? Like the one's you see at county fairs or half time shows of sporting events. They can do just about anything from catching frisbees to backflips. What happens after every trick? They get a dog treat. How is that much different from the perfect world mentioned above? Do good, receive good. Do bad, receive bad.

If that was the case how could we ever trust anyone's motivations, including ourselves. If good was always rewarded and bad always punished what would we be left with? A world full of selfishness and artifice? A world full of dogs looking for treats?

Maybe that stranger didn't deserve your politeness, maybe your mom was a bad parent, maybe your friend wasn't really your friend, but you still did it anyway with no conditions or bias. You did it because sometimes good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people.

You did it because life is fair.

2) The shitty apartment in the L.A. sun—the cracked linoleum, the dust, the scum spreading from corners out to the walls, to the air, unchecked, all blaring in Technicolor—was crueler than squalor in shade. But, he had never lived in squalor before L.A., and he was hardly living now. Down 60 pounds from his usual 170 (he was always slight in his family’s chunky, meat-head lineup), he struggled to breathe in the rancid air and a small part of him, an iota of misplaced rationality, was glad—relieved, even—that he had blocked out the searing light weeks before, just before he stopped going out, stopped delivering flowers, stopped altogether.

But, he wasn’t, when he twisted the white plastic tube dangling by the one dirty window and reduced the sun to slits, keeping out the sun. He was armoring himself against prying eyes and against the little black lines in their scopes—but the private investigator his mother had hired was still on the east coast, and the voodoo doctor in Nicaragua, his old blue jacket in hand, had impaled Oklahoma with a pushpin. There was no one else.

The sunshine crept in when they opened the door and snipped the rusting chain. It crawled back to illuminate the mess, the papers, the rat droppings, it crept in to jeer at its vanquisher. But, for so long he had been gone.

everybody's trying to make us another cool decade of fakers

2008-03-29T07:30:00.001-07:00

democracynow.org
art star ryan chin!
beer and hot choco!
thanks miles

In no way is this portrait an expression of disrespect for Jesus Christ

2008-03-25T07:13:00.000-07:00

reason to stop global warming
luke malaney photo

So you wanna build an altar on a summer night / you wanna smoke the gel off a fentanyl patch

2008-03-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

---
!!!

do they need an extra large tanning bed for the big kid? what does it actually look like inside of one?
leftovers 4 days

i like this. i like the way this feels.

2008-03-20T18:12:00.001-07:00

what shall we do tomorrow? what shall we ever do?

2008-03-19T07:29:00.000-07:00

the field is full, sorry slowpokes. here are the 16 contenders in the 2008 first annual $ morethangalenandmiles $ writing contest. they have until wednesday the 26th to send in their first entries, so it'll get started immediately after that.

Luc Clements is the 8th grader i don't babysit.

Jake Fournier is an nyu student that marcelle found for me.

Helen Manning is another nyu student that marcelle found for me.

Lindsey Dowswell is another nyu student that marcelle found for me. i think all three of them have read in search of lost time.

Amalia Child is in my creative writing class.

Chris Francis made the classic Indiana skateboarding video The Other Side of Things.

Pete Cavanaugh is my best writing friend from Indiana.

Matt Zwiesler is my best friend.

Sam Newell only started skating a year and a half ago but is more down to rip than almost anyone.

Max Palmer is from Ohio and rides the loosest trucks I know.

Jack Greer once skated to "Gravel Pit" in his skate video part.

Todd Jordan is a pro skater!

Ted Barrow had a really good part in Lurkers 2 and is from Texas.

Jared Campbell is my best high school friend and goes to William & Mary.

Joey Calavenna is my roommate.

Dean Levin loves max fish.

krom update!

2008-03-18T06:56:00.001-07:00

so the other night they're chilling at the moontower. someone talks some girl into pissing in a cup and from there it isn't much a stretch to talk krom into drinking her piss. he takes it down like a champ, but then it makes him throw up. bummer, so there's vomit all over the kitchen floor of the moontower, and it's basically a mixture of piss and whatever else krom throws up. then someone tells krom that he should lick that up. so he gets down on his hands and knees and tongue to floor! get em! so once that's taken care of, he also eats a bunch of garlic powder and snorts a couple lines of it! yeah krom!

rise video!

2008-03-16T15:35:00.000-07:00

francis took some photos at the premiere

want more of little corey? and other shredders?http://www.flickr.com/photos/8177422@N07/sets/72157600190714550/detail/

2008-03-13T02:55:00.000-07:00

"convenience is the name of the game
self indulgence is the rule, selfish mutherfuckers.
there are no winners
we all lose
thanks for nothing"

from "money" by embrace

2008-03-11T16:58:00.001-07:00

if you like where you are
you don't need a car

if you aren't in pain
you don't need a plane

i'm wide awake it's morning

2008-03-10T14:13:00.001-07:00

local homeless crew
this is what happens when your board gets run over by a truck
this is what happens when you don't get into nyu grad school

it's simple, we don't kill

2008-03-09T15:30:00.000-07:00

get along,

2008-03-08T08:07:00.000-08:00

get along, kid charlemagne!

i got a new camera, but before i go back to posting like that, here is steely dan shredding through an epic rendition of one of their classics:

2008-03-06T08:06:00.000-08:00

there won't be blood

push fast die

2008-03-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

push-fast.com

last call

2008-03-02T22:18:00.000-08:00

okay so half of the field is filled with paid entrants for $ the first annual morethangalenandmiles short writing contest $! and the field is stacking up pretty sick!! i'll give brief contestant bios once i have everyone paid. that means that if you want to participate there is still space so long as you make plans to get the money to me immediately. i guarantee fun!

one that can slay one on cue

2008-02-28T19:45:00.001-08:00

i only know one of the dudes in this picture (find legend!) but it still is one of the best things i know and further proof that skate crews are one of the only things that matters when it comes down to it.

2008-02-27T19:29:00.000-08:00

"And this: the condemned freighter Maida towed by tugs toward a chalky wafer of sun, toward the lead-white expanse of Detroit River, black gleaming derricks, slag--the whole lurid panorama of cloacal American nature smarm debouching into Lake Erie where--when Payne was duck hunting--a turn of his oar against the bottom brought up a blue whirring nimbus of petroleum sludge and toxic, coagulant effluents the glad hand of national industry wants the kids to swim in. This was water that ran in veins. This was proud water that wouldn't mix. This was water whose currents drove the additives aloft in glossy pools and gay poison rainbows. This was water the walking upon of which scarcely made for a miracle."

from The Bushwhacked Piano by Thomas McGuane

no we're not the jet set, we're the old chevrolet set

2008-02-26T16:01:00.000-08:00

last summer's carb day. kid rock was there. so was jessy.

little corey!

2008-02-25T14:49:00.000-08:00

any major dude with half a heart surely will tell you

2008-02-23T08:51:00.001-08:00

actually, it was a bit of a disappointment.
look who stole my fry! random run in!
sport

larger than life!

figuring out what stripes and solids means
some heavy hitters were running the billiards table last night

a fight starts. this bro makes it clear he wants no photos taken

boooooo
fights are weird when you outnumber the other dudes by about five people. and when you can't figure out why the dudes are still fighting. we didn't want to mob on them and it turned out to be a lot of pfc waiting around until one of the dudes attacked one of us again and then everyone who wasn't fighting worked security until one of the other dudes started fighting with another person and so on.

sick! i think right now's about the part where that anti-photo came up from behind me and knocked my camera out of my hand. "i told you to quit taking photos with that shit." it fell to the ground and now it's broken. thanks, bro! a person's camera is probably the last thing i would ever dream of breaking in a fight, and yet for this dude, mine was the thing that pissed him off the most even though i wasn't physically involved in the fight in any way. jocks are the worst. it must suck to be so stoked on all the wrong things in life. a bit later i found an avirex letterman's jacket hanging from a street sign. fuck yeah.

god's coming, she's just taking her time, haha

2008-02-22T08:22:00.001-08:00

a line of squad cars taking up the whole block. the NYPD's current authorized uniformed strength is 37,838.
zooming in on harif from across the room!
party table! free champagne! free brie! free hummus!
t.o.n.y.
this is my friend mark. he does thecobrasnake.com

birthday girl
birthday girl
birthday girl
birthday girl

guess we won't be skating to sweet paradise
bzz

brr. i'm going back to l.a.

2008-02-21T07:18:00.001-08:00

"I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;"

from The Bridge by Hart Crane

the nascar blurred into porn

2008-02-19T07:28:00.001-08:00

i bet sports illustrated took a huge hit once espn the magazine came out. SI is still better i think. they have less hype-driven articles, even if rick reilly is falling off from what i can tell and what jared tells me. oh, and they have the swimsuit issue, too!
ck might have found the coziest nook in manhattan

reckless!
~cute~
weird
unleashing a plague of locusts!
whatever. i'lll post retarded pictures of myself. we were walking down the street and this car pulls up and i'm stoked and take a photo. then people get out of it and beebee knows them and they want me to pose by the car. so beebee takes a better photo
shots we don't need

not a still life, but a slow life then

2008-02-18T16:03:00.000-08:00

"Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

not another teen movie

2008-02-17T10:16:00.001-08:00

no, i won't. advertisors really have no respect for themselves. i would say what store it is but i don't know anyone who's tempted to shop there anyway
fuck yeah! this is how you advertise. throw up sick flannels in your window and customers will flock. trust me, it's a better idea than begging people to buy your ugly dress shoes. national wholesale liquidators has great deals.
this was on a public access channel
they had about twenty of these that they were looping for a 50 minute program!
car chases next!

willa and her three crushes
forever may she wave
i have had no reason to go here at any time in the past three years.
she was searching the ipod for black flag
all girls should dress more like this.
fuck yeah! neck tats!
he's a bro
she was the second person i saw drinking sparks from a straw last night. she was also the second person i saw who knew clay. she introduced me to a third. i don't know which of these was the most surprising

we were skating down the street and all of a sudden sam is on the sidewalk being super pissed. apparently he saw this ice and thought it was going to be frozen and wanted to skate over it. instead it broke and his board got soaked. still, a pretty epic thought.
ran in to this motley crew at 4 a.m. on the subway platform as i was boarding the manhattan bound. later!

2008-02-16T16:43:00.000-08:00

"I remember being in her father's basement workshop
when we picked up an unknown man sobbing
over the shortwave radio"

from "Classic Water" by David Berman

drawers, bores

2008-02-15T14:15:00.001-08:00

isak after a double shot of tequila- "I like to feel shots."
the whole crew
old twenty

she's the realest thing teddy knows

the indianapolis star wants me to replace gary varvel.

i can still get the sides dishes!
i was rolling up to laf and the pigs, security bros and ambulance are all in the mix. i stopped to shoot a photo and once the pig saw what i was doing he shined his light on me in an attempt to mess up the shot. nice try! then up near the doors there was the whole crew around this nyu dude who was trying to convince them that he had only had one beer. they weren't hearing it and excorted him into the ambulance

2/14

2008-02-14T19:44:00.000-08:00

i got this in the mail from my parents today! thanks, guys. I hope you all got something as nice done for you. Happy Valentines Day!

new movie coming winter 08

2008-02-13T07:20:00.000-08:00

In a world where crime is the universal language and scum are its residents, two cops, worlds apart must band together to save humanity. Jericho Lightening is a california cop, with a wreckless, but powerful style and attitude like the blue waves that crash upon the sun-soaked beach. Jericho's partner, Tokyo Manko, chooses to keep his words and ideas silent and to himself, but don't take him for a small, innocent asian detective. Oh no, Tokyo's strength may not be untamed like the malibu shore, his power is illusive, like the beauty of a black lotus in the midst of many white lotus. Together, these two unlikely partners, will clash culture, and do there best to stop a worldwide terrorist plot. At least, you'd better hope so....they're are only hope.

2008-02-12T20:38:00.000-08:00

I was driving home early sunday morning through bakersfield
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said, you know you always have the
Lord by your side

And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran
Twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you jesus, thank you lord

from "Far Away Eyes" by The Rolling Stones

Apologia pro Poemate Meo

2008-02-12T14:57:00.000-08:00

reminded me of that old slap tshirt with the birds on it that said "there is a better way to live"

i met a snowbro at blades today. he was standing in the window being really stoked on fully flared
perhaps not quite as good at punjabi, but within my daily walking pattern
a homeless dude sleeping over a heating grate in the middle of a mild snowstorm.

call for entries!!

2008-02-10T23:43:00.000-08:00

for the first annual morethangalenandmiles short writing contest!

Here is the deal: I figure that two minutes a day is a reasonable amount of time to spend looking at this blog. I decide to have a contest that is open to anyone, and what you have to do is submit the best piece of writing that takes about two minutes to read. it can be anything, from a character sketch to a gnarly story to whatever else you think is cool. i think a reasonable example of length is my gnarliest story ever, which you can find linked on the right side of this page at the bottom of the february entries.

don't be dissuaded if you don't usually write, and this is the reason why:

everyone fills out a bracket for march madness, even if you don't particularly care about basketball. then you throw five dollars into a pot and you have something to care about for the next month. maybe you win, maybe you don't. this is what you'll have a chance to do in this contest, except with your best writing instead of guessing the skills of random athletes who are in many cases younger than you.

the first sixteen people to contact me and make arrangements to send me the five dollar entry fee will be accepted. We can meet up if you're in new york, or you can mail me the money if you aren't in the city. location doesn't matter and i'll take you at your word if you send me the email, which is your agreement to pay. That gives a grand total of 80 dollars in the pot. I will take eight dollars (ten percent), which seems reasonable for the work I'll be putting in to it. That leaves 72 to be split amongst everyone else.

i will randomly pair each person off with someone, and those will be the first round of stories. I will post the pieces in these pairs, and all of the participants will vote on who should move on. There are sixteen participants and then i will have a vote. that brings the total to 17, which assures that there won't be any ties.

the people who lose in the first round won't get any money. sorry. but you had fun, just like you will when you drop 5 dollars on the tournament bracket next month. and you tested your mettle in the meantime. everyone who makes it to the second round will at least win back his admission fee. you will create a new piece for the next round, which will pair off against some else. if you make it to the next round, you get five more dollars and another chance to write something. if you make it to the finals, you submit your final entry and you get a chance to win. the winner wins 22 dollars. three runners up get 10 dollars. the other four people who made it out of the first round will get five.

don't be a wuss. email me to confirm your entry, or if you have any questions/comments. galen.dekemper@gmail.com

call for fun...

2008-02-10T16:07:00.000-08:00

call jasonwear at: 917-476-9556

oh yeah, i was puking last night. i got power faded. speaking of getting power faded no one does it better than taji.

i walked alone down the miracle mile, i met my baby by the shrine of the martyr

2008-02-10T01:06:00.000-08:00

this is like the sunday times version of my blog. i apologize or you're welcome.i walked over to the bowery whole foods and passed the new museum on my way. i think seth and i might go here soon.
i walked from whole foods to my dorm carrying all of this. i had to stop twice to set my bags down. i remembered that i had only set my bags down twice the last time i carried groceries back. i realized that it must have been this hard the last time too, and that i've maintained an equal toughness since then. i imagined that i was in a contest with jared, which is what i always end up doing when i am in a physical challenge to myself.
catherine and i went to see the anne carson reading. it was super crowded. it was super good once it started but i didn't take pictures because it was annoying when other people were doing that instead of watching. the visual momentum of the show was its best part so taking a picture would be beside the point anyway.
jake in four layers
we're going out to jack's for his birthday party. we run into dean at the corner store off the train. "getting the whole party hurt for fifteen dollars"
as a birthday present for jack, martin got a tattoo of a skeleton with a pfc crown
fred durst skated over to the party

nothing happened

this is the next night.
pfc portrait
we had some of those popper things that are like a gay-club version of dusters
this is not brengar sitting at a party by a window smoking a boge

she must have been freezing miles copped
so there for a minute american apparel was running all of those crotch shots and i kinda wondered where they could go next. apparently this girl's ass is the answer

mike moonves is having a party at this place katy and i walked to last year and we all drank a lot of champagne.
now they have a pingpong table
and those gymnast rings
this is not joey pepper reading a newspaper at a party

dean and i were so close to meeting at max fish like we always dream of doing but then we decide that this is more cracking

the making of ... the cobrasnake! i thought he agreed that after kosta was on his site he could retire?

oh that guy? he's just sleeping

someone told me to take a photo of these because they are original warhols
morethangalenandmiles.blogspot.com
yeah! i'm leaving at like half past three and see this dude cruising up all stoked to party. i head back up for further undocumented mayhem

2008-02-08T13:52:00.000-08:00

"I played piano beautifully
in their living room in a nightmare I had."

from "Vitamins" by Jim Daniels

and fat eagles!

2008-02-07T16:39:00.000-08:00

it's not hard to tell who the american is in this picture! johnromanphoto.com

Life Won't Wait

2008-02-06T20:41:00.000-08:00

is the title of the new Rise video. It comes out in Indiana on March 7th so figure out how to get there if you can. I get to have two tricks in Matt's part! Here's a trailer in case you aren't already excited enough:

a copy of garage days and to tell me the truth

2008-02-05T14:38:00.000-08:00

i wanted to go to the vietnamese sammie place on mott and broome but it was closed for the evening. this place was next door so miles and i went in to get me some food.
i was trying to order noodles with vegetables and the women behind the counter couldn't understand me at all. we had to depend on the homework crew to translate!

they gave us all sorts of shit in the bag so we left in a hurry since we seemed to have gotten away with a steal. then at seths's i realized that one is supposed to pour the soup stuff on top of the noodles, which makes them soft and the meal delicious
seth and miles and i went to see rambo. we saw dennis on the train. we got to the theatre and saw the dude who played warren p cheswick in the old tv show Ed that I loved. he is also in strange wilderness. he was with drew barrymore, who once posed for playboy. one of the movies in the previews was called "midnight meat train."
yeah! epic credits! best line, said by mercenary soldier to christian missionary whom he is rescuing, "god didn't save your life. we did."
"do they sell salt-free?" asks miles

he looks like dylan until he smiles and becomes 'quist. check his new site: thewindthewindisblowing.com
her name is alexis and she has a blog too. check it out at reminiscetherapy.blogspot.com
homies!

a night with brengar

2008-02-03T21:13:00.000-08:00

quotes from brengar in the perhaps hour that i saw him tonight.

-i chewed up a pastry in this girl's bathroom and then spit it up all over the floor. she thought someone chundered. then i stuffed a towel in the sink and turned on the faucets.

-taji did six lines of coke.

-gigliotti loves the cali pound (proceeds to do that cali handshake with gigliotti)

-to miles-california, what were you doing in that sorry excuse for a state. what is it thinking, taking up the entire west coast. and arnold schwartzenager governs them all. why don't they split it up into two states.

-coming back from the counter at wendy's -they just gave me a free philly cheesesteak. i mean they gave me a free refill. they gave me a free refilly cheesesteak.

-brengar to me-you babysit? that's immature.
miles-brengar, your life represents immaturity.
brengar-talk to the hand

-does anyone have a boge for the lovechild?

miles is skating on the sidewalk and a pig comes across the street and calls him out. he's tapping on his billy club as he rolls over
pig to miles- how old are you?
miles to pig- twenty
pig to miles- let me see your id (seconds elapse) holy shit you are twenty.

where the air smelled like snakes we'd shoot with our pistols but empty pop bottles was all we would kill

2008-02-03T09:20:00.000-08:00

get a dope midday text from binkley. hey seth when are we going to see rambo?

not a bad spreadthe first version of that movie funny games
sachi nasatir photography
that bodega right off the bedford L stop

wow. last time i was at this place there were skateboarding ramps on the back wall and abada was here and we called katy who was in california for the weekend. someone also threw up in loxton's bookbag

the music was doint and sounded like tosh townends emerica part until dean took over and threw on the clash.

illegal smile

2008-02-02T10:26:00.000-08:00

my last two days.
he settles on this.
i ride seth's board up but it seriously has the tightest trucks i have ever experienced. i would try to carve but it was as if the board waited ten seconds before responding in the slightest. it was a cruiser so it went fast and i tic tac'd my way around corners.
yeah griff! this is at black & white.
i don't know the dude in middle but he seems really pleased with himself. simkiss is stoked in a way less calculated way.
i see little matt walking past me. he keeps telling me how twisted he is and wants to pose anonymously.
oh bummer. everyone besides ted is leaving sweetparadise when i show up. talk to these bros for a bit about how it used to be sick when ross and brendan skated with us.
i used to run two dollar meals at tasty dumpling and now i have to spend seven to avoid meat.

seth and i watched strange wilderness since it was raining.

oh, supmaggielee.blogspot.com?
jr and i walked around the west village for an hour before making it to beatrice.

2008-02-01T17:19:00.000-08:00

If you have to wonder what the best skateboarding website is, you obviously haven't been to quartersnacks yet. www.quartersnacks.com

from the newest post's comment box

Cool Hand Luke Says:
January 30th, 2008 at 12:47 pm
This nigga and his corporate handler’s are running a scam. We all know this nucka ain’t skate. Why in god’s name, if you didn’t skate, for one, and you in the rap game, or you tryin to get in the rap game, would you, a.) pick up a skateboard? b.) promote skateboarding? c.) write a song about skateboarding? d.) write a song about skateboarding? e.) Write a song about skateboarding? f.) Write a song about skateboarding when you obviously don’t skate? g.) Front like you skate when it’s painfully apparent you don’t? and h.) be still, at this point, be fronting like you do??? Whatever, I can’t even get upset about this kind of BULLSHIT anymore. It’s literally all around us at this point. This is what you call CORPORATE INVOLVEMENT IN SKATEBOARDING! Corporate takeover. This is what suits in offices on Madison Ave. see/saw as the new big thing to make money off of and they hand this toolbox from the suburbs of Chicago a skateboard and say “you know what Lupe(?), we’re gonna market you as the next incarnation of Pharell(remember that stooge?) and you gonna be the new skateboard sambo.” This kid should be ashamed of himself and his fellow compatriots at his suburban high school should stuff his ass in a locker for even looking at a skateboard. And to set the record straight, he bought that thing at the Element Store in Times Square. I’m gonna even take this time to take a swipe right now at all corporate involvement in skateboarding, whether it be Echo OWNING ZooYork(a hip-hop rhinoceros?), Nike BUYING it’s way in to the skateboard market, Adidas FOLLOWING suit, Element having A STORE IN TIMES SQUARE!!!, IPath SELLING to Timberland(you seen the new Redman video? He’s wearing IPath’s, no shit.) and even D.C. with all the toolbox’s who wear that garbage logo like its FUBU. All you nigga’s that SOLD YOUR BRANDS OUT should be tarred and feathered and paraded around Union Square! Word up, shame on all you yellow belly’d nigga’s.
Near Future Says:
January 30th, 2008 at 12:53 pm
In a nut shell, corporately entities that don’t have their origins in skateboarding and the CEO’s of these corporations that don’t skate shouldn’t own skateboard companies, period!
QuarterSnacks Says:
January 30th, 2008 at 4:04 pm
Osiris > Nike SB
Twis2ed Says:
January 30th, 2008 at 9:39 pm
umm why cant we all just skate,
put the corporate shit behind and skate just because
its what keeps us leveled, and sane.
instead of stressing on shit like this!
Near Future Says:
January 31st, 2008 at 1:32 am
In response to “Twis2ed”: umm, yeah, let’s just, like, ignore it and, like, maybe like, the corporate meglo-monsters will leave the skateboarder a little crumb of the control of their artform. Or better yet, like maybe, if we like, close our eyes, it will like, go away.
Again, I can’t stress how important it is to be an educated consumer, not only with skateboard product choices, but with everything you take into your life, to guarantee your hard earned cash doesn’t go to line the pockets of corporate scum who never skated or the greedy sell-outs who enable these corporate, opportunist pigs. Echo is not cool, neither is selling your brand to Echo or kicking off an entirely dedicated, original team to buy another team and then kick that team off to buy yet another team off Birdhouse that Birdhouse basically stole off Five-Boro. This shit has got to stop. You ever see the kooks that wear Element and Zoo shit? Straight up, I’ve seen rollerbladers in Element gear. And lets not even bring up Echo.
And it’s not going to stop if we just ignore it and “just skate”. There’s nothing wrong with being cognitive and conscious of what is going on in YOUR industry. Nike is not cool, nor is Adidas. These are non-skater owned brands that are just “in” skateboarding to make a buck. I’m sorry to inform you of this. Element sold their operation out a long time ago as did D.C. IPath is owned by Timberland for chrit’s sakes. You think Timberland bought IPath because they like skateboarding? Fuck no, they bought to make money off skateboarders.
Sorry, but your money is going to non-skating/never even picked up a skateboard C.E.O’s and their shareholders, who are probably already filthy rich and simply keep the machine properly greased and the guise propped up to make it look like these are still “core” brands and are down for skateboarders and skateboarding. They outfit and enable clowns like Dupe’ Fiasco, Pha-rrealls?, BAM, and Rob and Big. I mean seriously, will you give my eyeballs a break and get the fuck off MTV? What a fucking embarrassment to human beings, let alone skateboarders.
So Snackman(entry #9), are you comparing Nike SB(which stands for SCUMB BAGS, by the way) to Oshitris? You’re close if you are because they’re both complete crap, but there is one big fundamental difference. Osiris is at least, actually owned by a skateboarder. To my knowledge, I believe Osiris is still owned by Tony Mag of H-Street/Life Skateboards fame. Can anyone confirm this?
QuarterSnacks Says:
February 1st, 2008 at 2:32 am
Anyone who is a skateboarder who I don’t know is quite frankly an asshole in my eyes (on top of fifty to ninety percent of those who I do know), so I would prefer that my money didn’t go to them.
thehillsidestrangler Says:
February 1st, 2008 at 2:54 am
it’s all about control baby

meet rob walker

2008-02-01T02:33:00.000-08:00

this is another dude who is way down to rip and is sort of a hero to me. i am honored to know him.
by andrew hutchison http://flickr.com/photos/hutchphotos
auscherman photo credit. weddle is the one who couldn't have possibly caught himself at this point. rob is in the background.fuck yeah! imagine loving things so much that you're willing to do this for them and not even care. that's why normal people can't fathom how much skateboarders love skating.
if you have something you love, you need so little to get by, yet people lack this and so they keep building bigger, unsustainable houses in suburbs more and more distanct from the urban centers

seriously the gnarliest story ever

2008-02-01T00:03:00.001-08:00

okay. do you want to hear the gnarliest story ever? if you do keep reading if not then don't bother.

so there's this kid in indianapolis josh krom. we call him krom. he is out of his mind. he rocked a half of a mustache for over a month straight. he gets really drunk and really high more than anyone i know. he rides his bike absolutely everywhere and loves to skate. epic dude. at one point in his life he steals a guy at a bar's beer, chugs it, then smashes the beer bottle down and cuts his hands when the bottle breaks. the cops are called and he has to go to the hospital before going to jail. to tell you the kind of guy he is.

you know those computer dusters? the ones you spray between the keys. you know how if you turn them upside down they emit freezing compressed air? you can't even hold your finger to it because its so cold. well he decides to spray it on his nutsack. holy fuck. okay, so he does this, and apparently goes for it and he gets the biggest blister ever. this is all second hand from matt. but the skin is really thin and you can see the puss and whatever else under it. this is sensitive ballsac skin. completely gross. so he goes over to the moontower and i would assume they all get so high. krom shows them the sac and it's disgusting. then he decides to poke the blister!

they get a needle and sterilize it, which is a thoughtful thought for intense stoners to have and they make sure it gets done right. there is some sort of party happening right now. so he takes the needle and punctures the blister. goo starts squirting out, with force, into a shot glass. they fill up a fair amount of it. some girl remarks on how gnarly it would be if someone drank it. of course that's just what krom wants to hear. he grabs the glass, yells "i'm a viking" and pounds it! six people who saw him do it threw up! and apparently tubbs filmed it all. no fucking way!

i said newark i landed in newark

2008-01-31T16:41:00.000-08:00

from my birthday

at andrews apartment. i have four 40s leftover from when danny got really high and bring them along.
jake comes down and is suitably attired for this festive occasion
the first friend i made at nyu! first day i saw him in the cafeteria wearing a matix shirt so i sat down and we started bro'ing. i've been calling him simkiss for so long that i have trouble getting in the habit of using his more epic new nickname of 'quist. as in johnny quist.
want to laugh this hard? listen to van halen singing when it's just the vocals that he laid down. it's somewhere online. ask seth if you can't find it.

(wade's photo deleted)

first note that this is a real id and there is a percentage sign in the address for some reason. then you ask, jake has wate oates from the virgins id? word. that's pretty cool. so are the virgins myspace.com/thevirginsnyc
we were watching shotgun and the seth brau shows up. since we're watching shotgun, why aren't we shotgunning beers he asks. without waiting for an answer he goes out to the deli and returns with a sixpack of tall boys! PBR even. so we kill them on his front porch. there are only five of us, and seth mans up and downs a second one immediately after the first. epic!
oops! jake couldn't keep his shotgun down! it was probably a lowkey strategy to open up more room for once we get to the bar.
isaac is so sick. so is sean. i probably see sean on the streets between classes more than i see anyone. it's always a treat.
samo and the mickster! the only bro i've ever made from actual class at nyu is mickey.

galen and the mickster downing jaegar! thanks to everybody who bought me shots, mickey and dean and lucian and isaac and maybe other people? things are getting hazy

i think we all saw this coming
i think mickey is making the sign of his band. he is also with a bandmate in this photo. the band is called white arrows and they're really good. myspace.com/whitearrows
you'd know the gang if you were in it

i forgot a pen today so i went in to commerce and copped one. just one of the many services they provide to me.

the highest i've ever seen anyone

2008-01-30T09:28:00.000-08:00

i turned 22 at midnight last night. weiss comes down to celebrate since he will be turning 21 at the same moment. the plan is to drink some brews at my place and then go to beatrice. he also brings weed so we can get high! neither of us have much money so we walk down to the cheap chinatown bodega for 40s.the cop car is cruising and then wheels up onto the sidewalk and we wonder why they are stopping so abruptly. then one of them gets out and goes into the dunkin donuts that you can kind of make out in the back of the picture.

this guy starts talking to us and is trying to tell us a story about spiderman2. he isn't making much sense. he asks us where we are from because he says it sounds like we have accents. i tell him i'm from indiana. weiss says he hails from the upper west. "Then you're west indian" the dude says. epic!
the next imagine in my series of colt 45 pictures, complete with special guest!. $2.25 now

so at this point in the night we're chilling. we smoked a joint and then weiss asks if we should smoke some more. i get out my roomate's gnarly gravity bong thing. (none of us have seen this kid the entire year but when we were opening up this box that looked like it was supposed to have a toaster in it we find the bong and a pipe.)(www.bukket.com if you're curious. it's the one that costs 20 dollars. it fills up like an accordion.) weiss takes a hit. i'm doing mine and next thing i know he is sounding like he's about to throw up in my bathroom
he says he feels like his lungs are on fire and i tell him it's no big deal. then he gets high and starts laughing
he is trying to focus his vision on me using the doors as his aperture? this is what really sets him off and he can't speak for the next ten minutes as he laughs the entire time harder than anyone i have ever seen. i can't stop laughing either and its great until he starts telling me he feels like he is going to die. he keeps saying he's serious but i can't bring myself to believe him and i am still laughing but he continues asking me to stop because he swears he's for real.
if anyone else's shirt was unbuttoned so low i would know he was actually in trouble but with weiss i still can't be sure

all within the course of three minutes
-i think my appendix burst
-look at me
-will you feel my stomach. i swear i can feel this huge bump on it.
-i'm okay right?
-galen, seriously
-my throat's constricting
-my hand is going numb
-oh god, galen
weiss and my roommate joey surfing the web in search of info about busting an appendix or puncturing a lung, which weiss also thinks is a possiblity
i'm calling people i know that smoke weed so they can convince danny, and me too now, that it's impossible for him to die from getting high. my aim conversations are probably pretty nuts at this point too. danny insists on the distinction that he is dying from some side effect of laughing so hard but that it is still completely serious. i'm trying to decide whether to keep laughing or be worried. i'm telling him to go to sleep but he says that he's in too much pain and he wants me to stay in the room even though he's freaking me out so much that i want to leave. he is saying that he is dying and that i should call an ambulance and i'm asking him if i should really call one and then he won't commit but he won't tell me that he was going to be fine either. i'm obviously high but not initially convinced he's dying. i'm now starting to become pretty worried after twenty minutes of having danny tell me he swears he's serious. i tell him that i am getting really worried about him and that i don't want to be this worried unless it's appropriate. he sweats it is. our birthday happens around this time but we don't notice.
weiss in his death throes but still eating my hot fries. he was begging joey for bread at one point in the night.

i tell danny i'm going for a walk because i don't want to be around him and that he should go to sleep. i leave the room and then he follows me into the hallway and says he's fine, that he just needs me to walk him home. i tell him i'll either take him to the hospital or sign him out. i go sign him out and he asks me to walk him to the train. i say that if he can't trust himself to make it to the train without me, then how can i feel good about letting him onto the train once we get to it. i would put him in a cab, but we have no money. i'm asking him if he'll swear on our friendship that he'll be fine if i leave him and he finally decides we can say goodnight at broadway and canal. i go back and tell my roomate that either weiss is dead or he just put me through the gnarliest friendship test imaginable. i was so worried. i fall asleep. i wake up in the morning and see the text i asked danny to send me once he got home. then there's another, in which he apologizes but swears he wasn't putting me on either. happy birthday galen and danny!

yes i guess

2008-01-29T18:30:00.001-08:00

clowning, not fighting

no takers?
the chinese cart raised its prices :( now fried rice and lo mein are 1.25 instad of a dollar. oh well it's still not bad so long as i remember to grab a quarter before leaving my spot. it's the breaking a dollar part that's annoying.