I have a very weird fascination with New Zealand. I often sit for hours fantasizing about how beautiful my life would be if I lived there. Here I am constantly stressed out and beaten down by deadlines, lack of money, traffic, politics, war, poverty, homelessness, crime, racism, and pollution. In my city, a trip to the bank results in a confrontation with an overweight 40 something woman wearing a Jazzercise tee and tights. She yells at me because I took a tad too long using the drive up ATM. In Gareth’s homeland I imagine a Utopian society in which an elderly lady with a sweet accent offers me a slice of pie while I do the mundane tasks of everyday life

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I prefer nightmares to good dreams.The reasoning behind this is simple. You know those dreams where everything is perfect and life couldn’t be any better? Waking up is such a let down. But when your heart is pounding and the cops have you cuffed, opening your eyes and having it all go away makes life seem that much better. Except for this one reoccurring dream where all my teeth break and fall out. Fuck that one.
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Growing up in an Italian household, fully rooted in Roman Catholicism, the saying and pious reminder to, “Always Count Your Blessings,” has forever been embedded in that often stubborn, shit-filled head of mine. I have never wholeheartedly been able to “Count My Blessings” in the traditional sense–while collectively breaking-down and appreciating all of the pleasant and truly good things that have come, gone and will forever stay in my life. I am a classic example of the drifting asshole that perpetually takes everything for granted, forgetting the great things in my world and focusing on the trite unpleasantness that somehow take precedent over anything and everything else.
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Often the best shit talking sessions happen when 5 dudes are stuffed into a stinky team van. I figured we’d test this theory so I called Don Nguyen as he and the Split team were speeding across the country on their way to a demo. As you know, each issue we give one lucky fellow the opportunity to spew as much shit as they can about a few randomly chosen topics. The only rule being, they can say absolutely nothing positive about the topic what so ever.
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Mike Sinclair, fallen footwear team manager, steps up and delivers a great tail of incarceration. This time though, it wasn’t one of his team he was bailing out of jail, it was himself.
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The last time I talked to Migdol, he mentioned doing a piece on Portland, which not coincidentally, is where I live. I am a resident of the Rose City, and have some practical knowledge of the Portland skateboard community.
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I’m going to ask you few questions revolving around Focus Boardshop and your involvement applying griptape to decks there.
Okay. Right on
I imagine being in the affluent Lake Forrest community of the OC, the MILF situation would likely be top notch. I imagine it’s just like we see on the TV show Real MILFS OF the OC right?
There are seriously some hot moms here. They come in with their six year old kids wanting to get them boards and stuff.
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