Friday, May 30, 2008

from Woster Collective

HEYOL NAW!!!!! Awards:

Can I get a big HELLNAW!!! for the Pussycat Dolls?
They fake feminism, are molded by a rich man megaplex, and are the undoing of girl power. Don't you wish your girlfriend was a twat like me?

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Chongalicious!

New: The HELL NO!!! Awards

I think I will periodically say:
HELL NO!!
at things that be trifilin'.

Today's issues:
Greenwashing.

HELL NO! Shell is not doing anything to better the environment.
Dow Industries is not going to lower the atmospheric temperature.
Buying a motha fucking hybrid SUV is NOT going to save your ass from lack of oxygen in the goddam air.

2012: Bad Apocalypse

HELL NO! Let's change the status quo
with this one. I know all you cute little crusty kids and earth lovers
have been thinking that 2012 is the time when the earth will go into
shock and die. Or open it's mouth and swallow us. Turn that frown
upside down. Although it might be something out of the ordinary
doldrums of your job, life, box living, it is not something to bet on.
I have a solution. Hows about the full formation of Rad America? All
the good ideas and meaningful people getting together to reclaim our
stolen land. My genius friendLBC says, "Evil only wins when the good doesn't do anything about it." Let's have a festival (said in a lisp)! RADPALOOZA 2012! Four more years to get some real hyphy
bands and what not. When you think of 2012 you will look forward to the
great summer long party instead of electricity turning on us and robots
using us for batteries. Let's make it a goal that by 2012 we are well
into our new renaissance and the whole black/woman president thing
calmed down the nuclear weapons pointed at our heads. Or whence the country is suffering from zombies and dollar bill toilet paper, we are out on a secret island having a generator show that you needed a hot air baloon to get to so we could drop off the counter RADicals into the sharks food bowl. We need some real positivity people. Let's carebear stare a nice little nest for the RAD this upscoming apocalypse.

sidewalk rage

It's been about 8 months now since I have commuted on my 'lil pink skateboard. I have gotten the zen of the motion, the carving downhills, even practicing my kung fu stance while cruising. I feel very at home, can stop on a dime, but sure as hell can't ollie worth a damn. My friend at ArtNowSF thought I was a big ol' lesbian because of my buff arms and my skatephillic lifestyle. Many people get me confused here is gaysville. I guess it doesn't help that I call Hollis my wifey, a glorified term for BFF.This fact might make me look like I belong to different subculture than
I do. I am not aware if I am a punk ass skater chick like the textbook
case. I guess it might appear this way. But I digress. A few days ago I
was getting off work, one block away, scooting down the sidewalk on a
deserted 20th street. I pass this fellow, a girthy cholo and his "maybe had a past in meth because of the slow twitch" lady. I must have penetrated a three foot
personal bubble because he yelled at me to get in the street, that it
was illegal to skate on the sidewalk. I informed him that it's illegal
to skate in the street too. Sorry, this is much safer on a mostly
deserted sidewalk. Gruff voiced chick says,"She'll listen when she gets
a ticket, then she'll listen." As I push on I hear a thick pounding
behind me and dude is running. "I'm going to push you off and throw you
into the street you piece of trash! This shit wouldn't happen on Haight Street." Oh dear.
He gets closer and I jump the curb, dodging any oncoming traffic. He
stops. I think he just wanted to tell someone what to do. I looked back
at him from a safe distance and told him that I was sorry if he had any
problems with skaters in the past but I try to be respectful and I
watch out for old ladies too. I wish I had stopped and turned around,
maybe used some of my kung fu to deflect any punches he might throw and
make a 250 pound fool out of him. Nah. I just skated into the sunset
and worked on getting this heart from beating too fast. I don't need
physical stress from some vato with anger surrounding him. That's his deal.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Welcome back to West O!

Night I got back from the east my wife kidnapped me and took me to a slanted bar on Oakland Harbor. Home of Jack London er something.
Faces kept filing in, two by two. What a wonderful feeling. I realized the family I have here is older than the amount of time I have lived here. Such beings.
Then we went for a sleepover at Donna Wood's house. On our way there we passed, or rather they passed us, a scraper car rally. They had the matching fatty rims with the little thin tires and hella painted out and busting some jams and squealing and squirming all over the place. There were 8 scrapers and 2 minivans. It was just like in TrealTV with MacDre.
Then I found out that the police pulled a male rape suspect out of our basement while nobody was home and knocked down our fence. They didn't tell us until two days later when we called them about some wierd noises coming from the abandoned, burned out house next door.
That's when they informed us what had happened two days prior and how they had peep holes to watch our movement. Welcome back to West O!