It’s a strange thing when a person is singled out and ostracized for no apparent reason. Something seemingly minor can spiral out of control; negativity attaches itself to this person and hating spreads like wild fire. Pretty soon popular opinion has been created and the individual is shunned. When the name Benji Galloway comes up in a conversation it is always followed by how he’s a kook or a dork or just a contest skater.
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Memoirs Of A Team Manager
The Flip team manager, Ewan Bowman chose to forgo the typical team manager horror story and pay homage to the late great Shane Cross with a story about the good times.
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As you well 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. For this issue’s shit talk corner we’ve enlisted Karma Tsocheff. We asked Karma to light some incense, sit in the lotus position, and enter a deep transcendental meditative state. We wanted Krama to really get to know his “inner hater”. Here’s what his hate meditation session yielded.
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A Collection Of Final Words From The Condemned
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NATHAN PORTER IS TWENTY YEARS OLD AND HAILS FROM CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. SAM, THE NEW KID, RECENTLY DID AN INTERVIEW WITH HIM OVER THE PHONE, AND, LIKE MOST OF OUR AM INTERVIEWS, TO CALL THE RESULT A PILE OF SHIT WOULD BE AN INSULT TO PILES OF SHIT EVERYWHERE...

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I must have been eight when my parents decided it would be a good idea to move from a beach side paradise, to the high desert of New Mexico and build our own house, ala little house on the prairie style. After a gut wrenching ten-hour drive, we arrived in our new “home” of Mountainair New Mexico and all of my fears were confirmed. Mountainair consists of a gas station and a few rows of trailers nestled in the base of the Mansano Mountain range on the backside of Albuquerque. At the time I was a typical California surf rat. I quickly came to terms with the fact that dedicating my life to skateboarding was the only way I would remain sane in my new surroundings. The one road in and out of town had a cop that had nothing better to do than park near an old billboard sign, sit in his patrol car, and whack it and I saw this as permission to take full advantage of whatever concrete I could find.
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YOU’RE THE GUY WITH A RAINBOW ON HIS BOARD, RIGHT?
What?

YOU’RE CESAR FERNANDEZ, YOU WORK AT UNITED, RIGHT? YOU SKATE?
Yeah, that’s me.

FIRST OF ALL, WHO DO YOU SKATE FOR?
Ezekiel Clothing, Etnies flow, Team BK, Mesh Skatepark, Longwood, FL.

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There are many traits that I exhibit that I would like to say define me in life. I love alcohol. I love skateboarding. I love paying for sex. That being stated, I’ll be eulogized as an “alcoholic skateboarder with AIDS” at death. I’m okay with that. Life was what you loved, so what do you do with a lifeless corpse of a lifelong skateboarder? Here are a few ideas:

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