SKATEBOARDING
IS A CRIME
is
(but it's how we socialize)
'm not about to go into full detail
about why I think he's so strange,
by Mark Gonzales
'cause it will take too long, and it really "Fattie was sitting next to his best friend
amn it, man. You know why I get so angry?"
serves no purpose. Two idiots stuck
inside a closet want to kill each other.
The both of them are pistol-owning,
finger-popping, quick-to-draw bad-
asses. Only trouble is, the area where
they are held up is too small for a prop-
er shoot-out. So the two take to words;
they attack each other verbally until
they are both tired. Then they fall
asleep simultaneously. Neither of them
are victorious. They both are sleeping,
knelt down inside the darkened closet
beside one another. In the morning, the
closet door will be opened. The first
one to wake up is for sure gonna stake
out a safe position and then begin fir-
ing on the other. It's not too hard to
guess which one will walk away with a
story to tell. Neither of them. In this
area, they give out tickets for anything.
This time I was talking to the trees, and
I was talking in tree-talk. I didn't think I
was doing anything wrong. But I
guess I was. I mean, it wasn't the
talking to the trees that was
wrong, it was the cutting them
down that was wrong. We cut
down millions of trees and
put our names on them, then
we sell them then walk around
smiling without a care in the
world. Like as if trees make a dif-
ference. Trees are ours. We
own them. We can do what we
like with them.
Bubbles, complaining as usual. "Why?" Bubbles
asked. "Cause no one will give me a chance. Man,
these guys skate around so prim and proper, like
fuckin' ballerinas. I swear to God these faggots don't
know one thing about beauty." Fattie got up from sit-
ting on his board. When he was upright, he stood at
6'5" (or 6'6", 6'7" with a board beneath him). He was
one tall motherfucker. In fact, Bubbles was sure that
Fattie's height and weight had something to do with
why he was so pissed. Bubbles and Fattie had been
localizing the H Ramp for the last few weeks and hav-
ing lots of fun, but got kicked out when Fattie busted
the extension doing an ollie to disaster from low to
high. Fattie took a slow push and skated a few feet
from where Bubbles was. It was obvious Fattie was
sad. Bubbles knew what would cheer him up. He got
on his board and skated over to where Fattie was.
Fattie looked over his shoulder at Bubbles. Bubbles
reached into his pocket. "You wanna Lifesaver,
Fattie?" Fattie smiled and popped the whole pack
into his mouth. Once the sugar kicked in, he began to
feel alright. "Hey, you wanna skate the
Gemco banks, Bubs?" "Nah, man, I
don't like the Gemco banks. It's
hard to get speed, and that lady
who lives across the street always
turns her sprinklers on to create
puddles so we can't skate." "I hate
that bitch. I heard she shot that kid
Ralph with a pellet gun." "What a
whore." The two boys stood there
tossing different skate spots back and forth to each
other, but couldn't decide on one. "I'm gonna skate
that bus bench over there," Fattie declared, as he
skated towards it. Bubbles followed. In the back of
Bubble's mind, he knew Fattie wouldn't be skating for
long. Maybe a grind, a boardslide, five tricks at the
most before the bench would be demolished. Fattie's
first trick was a nosegrind across the top. "Holy fuck,"
Bubbles was thinking, "if only I had my video camera.
If only I owned one." The landing was sweet. Fattie's
front foot was coming off the front. As he came
through, he nearly hit a lady. "Would you watch
where you're going?!" the lady screamed. Fattie
laughed and signaled Bubbles to go for a trick. What
Bubbles did was nothing special, just a frontside
stand-up grind across the lower part of the bench. He
landed, swerved, and avoided the bitch. He kept
rolling and ended up where Fattie was. "What should
I try?" Fattie asked Bubbles. "Go for something
basic," Bubbles said, "a boardslide." Fattie smiled.
"Yeah, I'll do a boardslide." As he pushed off, he
said, "Watch this." Bubbles was watching. Fattie
approached the bench with moderate speed.
Bubbles didn't know if he was gonna slide the
top or the bottom. Pop! "Damn, he's taking off
early," is what Bubbles was thinking. He took
off a good four feet before the bench. "Holy
shit, he's at least a good foot-and-a-half above
the top." Just getting that high and popping that
early took up most of his speed. "Fuck, he'll never
have enough speed to slide across the top. No way."
When he came down, we're talking with his weight
and size on impact, that flimsy backrest was history.
It broke off from the cement parts it was connected to.
Now it was half on the bench, half on cement. One of
Fattie's legs was resting over the seat. Part of the other
leg was beneath it. He looked funny there like that.
Bubbles started laughing. "Hey, you OK?" he hollered
over to him. "Yeah, I'm cool" is what Fattie's reply
was. Bubbles was positive he was, 'cause Fattie was
already up and brushing himself off. "It's a good thing
you had pants on, otherwise your legs would've gotten
scraped up," Bubbles said. "Yeah," Fattie said, "I
always skate in pants." They were just about to skate
off when they heard a whistle blow. Their heads
turned. It was that bitch that Fattie almost ran into.
She was coming right towards them. Now she had two
security guards with her from the shopping center.
Fattie dropped his board and proceeded to skate off.
Bubbles followed. "Hey, stop!" the lady said in the
stupidest voice. Bubbles wasn't about to look back,
but Fattie did. Bubbles heard her screaming to Fattie,
"Where do you think you're going? You can't just
leave that bench there like that!" Fattie hollered back,
"The fuck I can't, you whore!" After Fattie and
Bubbles escaped the lady and the two clamps, they sat
curbside on their boards in front of Chief's auto parts.
store. "Did you see that?" Bubbles asked. "No," said
Fattie. "That car. Look at that shit, man." Bubbles was
pointing at a wrecked-up jalopy. When Fattie saw
which car Bubbles was pointing at, he started to laugh.
"You'd think those people would know it's illegal to
drive around in a car with no front windshield," Fattie
said. Bubbles was still giggling. "Yeah, but I don't
think they care." The car pulled into Chief's. The two
boys were peeping out the passengers. An old guy was
driving. His every move was delayed. He had on dark
shades. He looked about 75 or 80 years old. After he
parked, he got out. His body movements were similar
to his driving, slow and very cautious. "That old fuck-
er's on medication," said Bubbles, "just look at him."
Fattie was watching and laughing. The old man
entered the automotive store. "Hey, Fattie, let's go up
close and watch through the windows and see what
he's doing." Fattie smiled with excitement. "Yeah, let's
go!" The two picked up their boards. Now in front of
the store, they spied on the old guy. "Look at him,"
said Bubbles. "Man, he's barely aware of what he's
doing." "What's he getting?" Fattie asked. Bubbles
looked. "Man, did you see him pick that up?" "What?"
Fattie asked. "Look in his left hand. He's got a can of
starter fluid." Fattie grabbed onto Bubbles, 'cause he
couldn't believe what he was seeing. "He just slipped
it into his pants from the backside! Bubs, did you see
that?" "Yeah, I saw it." Before Bubbles and Fattie
could see what would happen next, they were jerked
around by two extremely large police officers. Three
squad cars were hogging up the whole parking lot.
"Oh, shit," is what Fattie was thinking when he noticed
that one of the squad cars contained the lady he had
called a whore. "Holy fuck, Bubs, I fucked up." The
two cops holding Fattie and Bubbles weren't all that
bad. They just ushered them over to the patrol car
where the lady was. When she identified Fattie, they
let Bubbles . The cops cuffed Fattie
and put him in the backseat. "Stay
quiet," they told him. But he
wasn't. He shouted out to
Bubbles, "Go by my house and
tell my mom where I'm at!"
INCREDIBAUL
IT'S RAINIG
CASH
THE
ACHION
sit in front of the mirror all day long,
looking at myself, wondering, "Who
the fuck do you think you are?" I look
at my face and can't stand what I see.
"Why is it so important to like your-
self?" This is what I ask myself. "So
what." 200 million Americans wake up
and are trapped inside themselves.
They hate who they are, but don't do
anything about it. Maybe somewhere
along the line in life, it was alright to
hate yourself. Maybe in some old
world-some ancient civilization-not
liking yourself was OK. In my personal
opinion, I think not liking yourself is
healthy. It means that you're human if
you dislike yourself. Anybody who likes
himself in today's world is a monster.
Our breed is a vicious breed. We, as
people, are vulgar. We terrorize every-
thing; just use up whatever we want
and throw it away. Get something new;
clean it, praise it, destroy it, miss it,
find something new to take its place,
and do it all over again. Vicious, oil-
sucking losers, that's what we are.
Burning up rubber just so we can eat
out instead of cooking at home. God
help the rich people that have all the
money and no problems. I've got a
problem, 'cause I can't find an answer.
The good cash is always there when
you're broke; when you're out there,
and every person stuffing their face
with food is your enemy; when your
tummy growls and starts to eat itself.
You know that's what it does, don't
you? It's the acid on the inside of your
stomach eating you up alive.
RE ACHION
土
HEY LOOK
WATCH
AT ME
WHAT
CAN DO
I CAN
CHOP
A TREE
A MILLION
BUBBLES
INTO
PEACESS
WITH ONE
SWING
TREE
CHOPPER
1800433-2652/
ACE + RENT
LAUEFTER
SHOT MYSELF
IN
THE FACE
AND
it
DION T
GOD DON'T
HURT
MAKE UM
MUTCH
FUFFER THAN
NOT AT
ALL
A member of the 'Cobra' rebel group wearing a