Rickay, Don't Do Me Like Dat

So, who's gonna be the opening day starter for the Jays? We shall see, but perchance could it be? The devilish twirls of Ricky Romero shall pass unto thee? But hark, do not count his praises so. It could be to an untimely end that his talents turn to woe.

For lately has a craze emerged, quite rankled and foolishly lewd. Strapping bands of rubber upon one's protruding limbs of stew. All among the merry folk they dished out dollars quick. Powerbalance had proclaimed they were kings of the public.

They sold their wares like snake oil merchants from the old wild west of yore. "Just slip me on and then you'll see," I'll elevate your bore. The honeydew mack will uncurupt all sporting feats of strength. Irie waves of concentrate will elongate your length.

That was the promise sprung upon the spending Californians. They tried so hard to believe, it made the failin' more enormian. So Ricky, when they tell you that your rubber don't have no worth. Please don't take it so hard that you pitch 'em in the dirt.

Ploesser Pleasure

I've been a fan of Randy Ploesser since he popped up in Slap's One In a Million a few years back and promptly got snatched up by Birdhouse. Much like Element, Birdhouse is a bit of a coverage vortex, so him jumping ship to The High 5 is probably a good thing for those of us on the prowl for some more of the St. Louis native. Case in point, a banger web clip like this that could easily be a stand out video part.

I don't know much about The High 5, but I was tickled with nostalgia at them adopting the NBC Special Presentation animation for their intro. There's a half dozen well known spots in this clip that he managed to barge in a way I've never seen before. A gimmick-free creative eye is always refreshing and his bag of tricks isn't too shabby either. Thumbs up yer butt, Randy.

Go Ahead And Let That Door Hit Your Rump On The Way Out

Edwin Encarnacion was claimed off waivers by the Oakland A's today. Although this shouldn't surprise anyone, his stay in Toronto always seemed pretty tenuous, my god am I glad to see him go. I'll miss Jerry Howarth and Alan Ashby riding him for being lazier than even Alex Rios, but that's about all I'll miss. He missed the boat on getting in on those Hustle and Heart commercials (wouldn't that have been deliciously ironic?). He brought some decent power numbers to Toronto along with a somewhat hefty salary, but that came with a wretched glove and he conveniently left his OBP back in Cincinnati. Barring a Zach Stewart breakout, that trade for Scott Rolen will still haunt me. Good riddance.

Cleansing My Sinz

If you've read this blog before, you probably know I have a passion for the Lord. By Lord I mean Jesus, and by Jesus I mean Jesus Fernandez. Here's a clip from another Spanish scene video I'd never seen that's also pleasantly heavy on the Daniel Lebron action.



Like the other Jesus' sensual exploration of Mary Magdalene's naughty bits, Jesus Fernandez's fakie 5-0 to fakie nosegrinds are the only thing that bring his divinity into question. That's not a trick, that's a dutti dance.

Vaya Con Dios

Farewell dear Yankerinos. How I'll miss you so. Put your sweet sweet post-season dreams to bed for another season and lay in restless slumber as your roster grows grey.


Hose me down with ginger ale as a single tear trickles down Derek Jeter's Gilette cropped cheek. Although I'd rather have such goings-ons occur through the hand of a certain bird species, much respect to the Rangers of Texas for slaying the beast that is the New York Yankees. With only one quarter of the payroll the Yankees through around this year, Texas got 'er done with the hit and run. Cliff Lee makes me pee. Vlad Guerrero deserved the sombrero. Ron Washington endorses Cock Shan.

I must admit to conflicting feelings at the prospect of a Giants/Rangers World Series dynamo showdown. You kind of win either way. Seeing either a franchise or a city getting their first championship is exciting business.

Philadelphia needs to go though. Fond memories of past Blue Jays pitchers aside, I can't root for the Yankees of the NL. Disgusting business.

In conclusion, baseball needs more of this:


Wild locks and marijuana fines baby, that's what I wanna see.

Kickers

At the risk of becoming a youtube propagator insulator masturbator, I came across this little ol' Spike Jonze documentary about teenage Texan bullriders by way of Etnies' omega-delicious 90's throwback bizness. I thought it was pretty interesting. Maybe you will too? Maybe you're a turd who likes to spoon J-Wad and listen to Lenny Kravitz? That's between you and your god.

Spanish Fly Is Always On My Shopping List

Peep peep. Never saw this one before. Javi and Jesus share a part in this Spanish scene vid and do it up proper. Ledges, lines, pushing. "That's what I like to see!" Javi pulls off a couple of the more tolerable looking ledge to manual tricks and Jesus somehow makes a switch noseslide kickflip out look good.

Chavs? Neds? Where The Fuck Am I?

Sweet mongoloidism makes my ticker boom.

A Good Spot To Have Lunch

This is SE Hinton in 1968 after she wrote the Outsiders.




This is Bryan Herman blasting over a picnic table off flat.



What do these two things have in common? I guess you could try and make some sort of connection between an author who popped out a couple books and pretty much just chilled and a skateboarder who seems to have a similarly irie work ethic. Really though, this is about Emerica's new video Stay Gold.

I'm gonna go ahead and claim Bryan Herman's first part in the video is the greatest human achievement in the last thousand years. Yes, even greater than the invention of the printing press, more earth shattering than Isaac Newton's bangers, more stupendous than the creation of the Human Centipede. So, why am I so excited about a bunch of lines on picnic tables in a baby bottom smooth california schoolyard? Didn't picnic tables fall out of fashion after Daewon OD'd on em and his setups started to resemble something out of a lego kit?

To answer that question: fuck no. If there's anything I wanna see, it's gnarlers with flavour getting down with some gimmick free ledge skating that would've blown doors in '96. I can hear you saying, "C'mon guy, Herman's just cruising some perfect tables. I'd like to see him come to Hoboken and flex on my spots covered with syringes and human feces." Well, shit, your crusty spot might look pretty thrilling if you get the lighting just so, but really you're just doing a 50-50 that my grandma could do switch.

Now, picnic tables. There are no illusions about them. Yes, those california tables are low. They are also wide. Tricks over them is no small feat. You can't deceive the viewer with a picnic table. They are like a unit of measurement. The tables Herman is skating are the same ones that Keenan switch flipped and Kareem 360 flip smith-smeared. You know what you're dealing with. Have you ever been to a famous handrail only to find out it's knee high? Did you feel cheated that the death lens made it look 10 feet tall? The tables don't lie. They are as constant as the stars. I take some small comfort in knowing that a trick over a table off flat will always be some kind of benchmark in that trick's history.

It probably speaks volumes that some lines Herman probably filmed in a few days eclipsed anything else in the video for me, but other gems abound. Brandon Westgate crushes with a Huf Barley speed barrage, Spanky cries for the children, and it's beyond me how Reynold's knees are still functional.

Yes Way Jose

So, way back in May, I foolishly claimed that Jose Bautista couldn't possibly keep up his power at the unprecedented rate he was going. Of course we all know that was a bunch of baloney. That fool sped up and hasn't slowed down one bit.

Amid groundless speculation on possible steroid use, he passed the 40 home run mark today with mucho swagger and gusto. Giving Ivan "Chevy" Nova a little taste of "don't fuck with me" in his major league debut, a half assed bench clearer followed his first tater of the day, which he followed up on later.


As his knock knees continue to knock them out, George Bell's Jays season record of 47 doesn't seem too far fetched with over a month left to go. My humble apologies for doubting your prowess Mr. Bautista (I was right about Vernon though).

Cut The Cheese (Out of Your Diet)

As far as aging skater post-drug comebacks go, I guess Guy Mariano set the bar pretty high. These days pools of drool are piling up in anticipation for a Gino part in the next Chocolate video. However, one dude you don't hear that much about who's back from the brink is Lavar.

Peep this recent footy:



Trife filming, zero crap filter, and some weird switch noseslide vortex aside, it's obvious his ability is still there. The serious library gap bangers at the end remind me of him shutting down hubba hideout in a single day. Over the past decade you'd see the occasional burgered-out Affiliate clip pop up every once in a while that would make you cringe a little, but this shit gives me some faith for what he can put out.

So, why hasn't he been welcomed back and celebrated the same way Guy was? Was it a personality thing? Maybe he never had the same kind of familia business Girl/Choc has going on? All I know is that I like lines. The longer the better. I wanna see fools push and skate ledges, none of this clip-clip bang-bang nonsense. Gimme some room to breathe. That's what Lavar has always done with absurd consistency, and that's why I think he deserves some breaks. One can dream of some kind of McBride brother reunion at DGK, but in the meantime I hope Turf does him right.

Filthy Fathers

Raddy Daddy-ism is pervasive in the four wheeled walk of life. Whether you're being coddled by Steve Caballero's taco neck, or Old Man Olsen's rapid reality realizations of growing up fast, it's all groovy baby.

Neptune is getting dry.

Hey Heather, OMG I Double Dare You!

Girl in white: "Can you see me? You can? OMG I'm gonna do it. Here I go! OOOOMMMMMGGGGGGG I totally did it! Daddy's gonna kill me."

Sergio's Shenanigans

Of course the game is better known as "the Buckner Game". Game 6, 1986. However, that date in October also marked an occasion of unprecedented daring and flawless execution. Say what you will about sloppy suburbanites running onto the field at a home opener, but you have to admire the skill and dedication required to parachute into Shea Stadium in the middle of a World Series game. You can read about Mike Sergio's exploits here or peep the footy, son.

The Rich Stuff

The fact that there are filmers sitting on stacks of footage from the mid-90's seems almost criminal. The unused gems from Socrates' vault in the World box set were stellar, the NY Revisited vids are orgasmic, and Brad Johnson assembled a whole vid's worth of mostly unused clips from SF's heyday. I certainly hope this sparks a trend for putting out old footage, cause 90's fetishists are frothing at the mouth to get at this shit.

What do you get in Brad Johnson's vid? Pier 7 lines up the wazoo, a full Lee Smith part that I can only guess was supposed to be used in the Menace video, Lennie Kirk droppin in on hella rails, Trilogy scraps, a young Welsh grinding a sizeable handrail, and lots of clips of all the Gs that you can't get enough of. I think Lavar got more lines in a day than most people got in a career.

Download the vid here, I really think you should:

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=AQDXNZ7H