On a slightly more horrifying note — the world population reached 7 billion today. If your own species makes you as nervous as it makes me, this year, all Hallow’s Eve is quite scary indeed.
Today’s photo gallery may seem like an odd choice given the rather “hallowed” nature of the date, but if you were on the East Coast this weekend, you know the real strangeness had to do with nature itself. Indeed, bewildered residents of New York and New England spent most of Saturday with their heads out the window, repeating “can you believe this?” to everyone they know, as a record-breaking snow squall stretched on through the afternoon and into the evening. Waking up to a winter wonderland the day of your own Halloween party is just weird, but I guess at least now we know what it would be like to celebrate Halloween in Sweden. Do they have Halloween in Sweden, or do they just skip right to Christmas once the snow starts falling immediately after the July 4th fireworks. Or do they not have those, either? Jeez.
Figured I should get all my self-indulgent, abstract snow photography out of the way while it’s still a novelty. Not to mention… if it’s snowing like this before October’s even over, by the time February rolls around I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull myself out of bed anymore. Snow before fucking Thanksgiving is bad enough, but snow on October 29th is scary indeed. Yes, for Halloween this year, it seems the weather decided to go as itself three months from now. So… thanks for the preview of coming attractions, you cruel bitch.
Ladies and gentlemen, I think I’ve finally met my match.
Blowing smoke rings are probably the coolest thing you can do with smoke… I mean, besides inhaling it, lol amiright?
Dude’s clearly a boss. A boss of all bosses, even.
I think the general consensus within the larger skateboarding community is that, while lucrative, getting paid to wear a hat with a Monster or Mountain Dew logo on it is pretty fucking wack. You can make the argument that skaters have short careers and are entitled to make as much money as they can, just for doing what they love, for as long as possible. There’s a good deal of validity to the side of this debate that contends if some clueless corporate drink sponsor wants to hand you a huge check for skateboarding every day, you’d be a fool to turn it down. Nonetheless, you’ve got to wonder, at this point, whether P. Rod will be remembered more for his inhuman ability on a skateboard, or for looking kind of like a NASCAR driver. I mean, seriously, shit’s starting to get a little silly out there…
While I remain pretty firmly entrenched in the “energy drink sponsors are lame” camp, I’m willing to admit it may simply be due to the fact that no energy drink sponsors have come knocking on my door, holding comically oversized checks covered with zeroes. Yes, that is how I imagine most of these corporate sponsorship deals happen, by the way. Nonetheless, saying no to free Red Bull still seems like it would be considerably easier than turning down free beer…
Unfortunately, many of the shapes in Santa Cruz’s new collaborative release with Pabst Brewing Company seem a little too long to be entirely comfortable with, if you know what I mean. Still, it appears there are a few pretty worthy looking steads in the stable… that Colt 45 tall boy cruiser is particularly hilarious. Fuck, I’d sponsor somebody if they could do a decent kickflip on that thing.
The bottle opener on the bottom of the deck is a nice surprise… the price-point? Not so much. For $135 bucks I could buy like 50 40s. (Note to self: name future upstart skateboard company 50-40).
Indeed, it’s a shame that as an industry, skateboarding seems so decidedly fixed on the Termite demographic. Sure, brands like Baker, Deathwish, and Anti-Hero have done much to celebrate substance abuse with board graphics over the years, but I’m talking more about market penetration by outside industries. Bagel Bites did it, for fuck’s sake, so where the hell are all the beer sponsors?
LATE-BREAKING UPDATE: Clug sent in some photographic evidence of none other than Ryan Sheckler doing a rather proper-looking tre flip on one of the beer can cruisers. So… fuck me, right? I guess it really is all in the back foot… but god damn, this kid needs to be stopped. I need to hold on to the relative impossibility of these kinds of feats, as it’s the only way I can convince myself that continuing to skateboard isn’t just an exercise in self-harm, and then along comes Ryan Sheckler being all perfect at everything and shit.
Just release a full-on 2×4 part and shut this shit down already. Maybe pick up a Home Depot sponsorship package while you’re at it, who knows?
While I was down in Florida earlier this year, I drove past this strange little fantasyland set back in the dense vegetation and had to take a closer look. I mean, come on, when you’ve got Old Man Mangrove just chillin’ in your driveway, you’re going to get some uninvited guests.
Unfortunately the gallery was closed that day, plus it was raining, so I was only able to get a few craptacular shots from the car window. Nonetheless, this guy’s crazy wooden creations have to be seen to be believed, even if my photos hardly do the work justice.
The sculptures are by Paul Baliker, and he works in a variety of mediums. Clearly, websites are not one of them, as his own keeps making Chrome shit the bed. Nonetheless, from what I saw in the parking lot alone, the sculptures forged out of various types of driftwood, particularly those using the root systems of aquatic trees, were the most interesting. Indeed, at the risk of sounding like a 52-year-old cat lady, I found them downright whimsical. I understand if you have to take some of my cool points away for even saying that, officer. And I’ll try to never use that word again on this blog if possible, but I’m not making any promises.
Say what you will about the Occupy Wall Street protest (and I won’t, since nobody reads this blog for my personal politics), but any signs of life from our worthless, complacent generation is a welcome change, as far as I’m concerned. Sure, the true message of the protests may be distorted and diluted by know-nothing loudmouths, but even a bunch of know-nothing loudmouths yelling about corporate greed on the streets of major U.S. cities beats a bunch of know-nothing loudmouths yelling about sports in front of the flatscreen. Basically, regardless of your cause, as long as you’re protesting something other than Thursday’s primetime TV line-up, I’m going to back you.
Plus, if nothing else, we can say the “Occupy” movement allowed Love Park to be skateable, without the threat of ticketing, board-confiscation or arrest, for the first time in years, and that in itself is quite an accomplishment.
The skating sure is sick, but the kids are kind of ignorant dicks. So, thanks for representing skateboarders as a whole so accurately, guys. Granted, there are plenty of dicks camping out in any of the various Occupy protests going on across the country, as well. Overall, I think the main thing we can take away from the entire debacle is that America is full of dicks — some rich, some poor, and some skateboard.
In any case, I sure hope this faux-VHS style of post-production doesn’t get completely beaten to death before Palace even has the chance to release a full length. Oh, wait, it already has. Shit’s as worn out as my VHS copy of Mouse.
Unbeknownst to the entire Dedleg readership, this little pothole in the Internet turned two-years-old about a month ago. Between moving to a new apartment, and willfully shackling my ankle to a desk for 8 hours a day, the minor-league milestone slipped past me without fanfare. That’s right — I forgot my own baby’s birthday. So yeah, it’s true what all the other parents say, I am a bad dad… but look at it this way, kid, when you’re 17 and looking for brew on a Friday night, a bad dad is the best kind of dad to have.
Anyway, beyond missing the opportunity to properly celebrate in the first place, it also seemed like missed opportunity to not combine my illustration and photography work eventually, and so here we are… self-indulgence at its finest.
The small size seems rather pathetic and unsatisfying, so please do click here for a sumptuous larger portion.
Now let’s see if I can get another drawing done in time to celebrate a much more important occasion, effectively Dedleg’s Superbowl, or at the very least, Dedleg’s favorite holiday that you don’t get a day off for — Halloween! I’d cross my fingers, but considering I couldn’t hold a pencil very well in that case, such superstitious practices would seem even more pointless than they already are.
As a man who enjoys the finer pleasures of life, such as hitting the peace pipe, skateboarding, staring into space, and thinking, there really isn’t a whole lot not to like about this little promo clip from Think Skateboards. Sure, the editing’s a little wacky, but that’s kind of just what happens when you smoke too much of the wacky tobaccy, right? Plus, skateboarding really could stand to take itself a little less seriously… I mean, seriously, you guys.
They may have recently released their only rider I paid any attention to by letting Brian Delatorre find a new habitat at, uh, Habitat, but all the same, the “Spirt Animals” board series Think also just released is really cool.
I love the scratch-board aesthetic, and obviously anything involving smoke is usually a winner for me. Okay, that’s not entirely true. Cigarettes are one of the more expensive ways you can kill yourself, and crack is, without doubt, definitely wack. Crystal meth, PCP and heroin also can’t exactly be defined as “good ideas.” I guess salvia’s alright, but only if you feel like it’s been a while since you had a solid dose of primal fear coursing through your disembodied veins for about a thousand years. So, yeah, I guess in the end, pretty much just anything involving pot smoke is a winner for me, but it seems like Think’s got that part down anyway.
It seems like every year that goes by, I love pizza a little bit more. Especially after living in Chicago for a couple of years, a city that has a very different understanding of what pizza — even so-called “New York pizza” — is than I do, I’ve come to appreciate a fine slice of greasy carbs originating in the borough of Brooklyn all the more. What can I say? Pizza is like my family.
And indeed I have tried… after receiving my summons on Saturday night, the only viable option was to bury my anger in a grotesque, slopping pile of cheese and alcohol. It kind of worked, until I woke up on the couch the next morning smelling like toxic waste.
So yeah… methinks I’ve been hitting the zah a little too hard lately.
Off to a rather slow start this week… admittedly, I had an incredibly difficult time pulling myself from the clutches of my bed this morning. Granted, waking up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed has never been exactly my forte, but on these chilly mornings when New York City apartments aren’t yet legally mandated to turn the fucking heat on, the sluggish spirit of a hibernating wholly mammoth inhabits my soul and I long for nothing but a hot vat of bubbling tar to go make myself extinct in.
So, here are some photos from warmer days, during my long lost trip to Florida to sweat and drink macrobrews amongst the elderly. Although, ironically enough, it’s overcast and damp in most of these shots. Nonetheless, somehow 60 degrees and raining in Florida still seems inherently more pleasant than 60 degrees and raining in New York — but then again, maybe 60 degrees and raining is always kind of pleasant when you’re on a retiree-schedule and have nothing in particular to do and nowhere in particular to go. I can’t wait to be retired. Having nothing to do sounds awesome.
The first day, we climbed to the top of the St. Augustine light house. It’s really less of a tourist attraction, and more of a full-on cardio workout… or rather, a tourist attraction that tricks you into getting a full-on cardio workout. And the only thing I hate more than exercising, is getting tricked into exercising — kind of like when you eat a huge meatball sub and afterwards, you feel like you just ran a marathon with a stomach full of wet concrete. In any case, this is not an activity for the oldies. They like to stick close to the ground… for obvious reasons. <callous> You know, they don’t want to get caught away when it’s time to nestle into that comfy pine box they’ll be inhabiting for the next forever or so. </callous>
I skipped the gift shop since I had already picked up a case of vertigo during the climb. Really, it’s a lovely keepsake that will remind me of how much fun solid ground is for years to come, not to mention, it’s much more of a conversation piece than a shark tooth necklace or magnet in the shape of a palm tree, I think.
Here’s some important information if you’re a New York skateboarder and were thinking of checking out the little modular obstacles the Parks Department dropped in Thomas Greene Park earlier this year — do not go there after dark, and do not go there if you don’t have a child-sized chaperone with you. Earlier this evening, I had the misfortune of learning firsthand that the police do not look kindly upon skaters remaining confined to fenced-in, city-initiated shred zones. Oh well, back to skating in the middle of the street and damaging public property instead, I guess.
In case you can’t read it (I barely can, and I’m holding it in my hand), the offense in question is “disobey park sign.” Yes, that’s right, I have to go to court because I disobeyed a park sign. Thanks, guys! Really, you couldn’t have just given me a spanking and sent me to bed without dinner?
You seriously mean to tell me the NYPD doesn’t have anything better to do on a Saturday night in Brooklyn than cruise around looking to give people tickets for skating in skate parks after dark? Are you aware that there are, like, real crimes occurring… all the fucking time? If I had been a crazed bum curled up in a puddle of my own puke, surely they would have simply sent me on my way. But no, it’s the end of the month and somebody has to hit their quota. Somebody has to hit the treadmill too, but I digress…
From the mouth of the oversized officer herself, “Technically, you’re not allowed to be here at all if you’re not accompanying a child.” Ouch. Nothing ruins a session quite like a cop telling you it’s time to retire from Little League. Welp… enjoy the park, scooter kids.
In the words of my man, Saul Silver:
Anyway, it’s a good thing we’ve got such courageous police officers out there to protect us from ourselves and serve us summonses for utterly trivial offenses, otherwise we might be caught having - *gasp* - harmless fun!