So it’s Thursday night, and I just got my card reader back. So now we have Top Shop Friday. Cool? I hope so…I hate photoshopping stuff.
Sam McGuire, Friday morning, 1:30 AM. Oh good, we got a twelve pack!
Cutty zorbing at my house. Somehow Gregg Clover ended up wearing those shades during his run on Sunday
Got to the Lair on Fridayday and instantly I was going into the secret passage because the fire marshal was hating. No current issues of the Mag under there? No sweat?
He might be just Steve now, but he’s one comeback tour away…
The reason I don’t make pictures of skating and why I ball out with letters, though I could shoot skate photos for any newspaper anywhere.
Mag on Mag crime. Mr. Bratrud was there for about half an hour before dipping to Crookston.
Dennis and I won some blurry ass money because we’re just the friggin’ best at trivia. My $35 was gone like poof! once on and then off the party bus.
Elijah Collard (with craze Koston laser eyes), Me, Nate Compher, and Jeremy Reeves. At some point in 2001 everyone except Nate lived on the same street, and basically Nates 16 year old azz lived there anyways.
Party bus art care of Josh at Wiskate. That was the closest thing we saw to the rumored strippers on that bus.
Who? Bart Jones! Art light!
Vern and Jamiel. Listen?
Dax was there, all icey!
CHOOOO AAAAASSSSSS!
Met Todd Swank in the purple snow.
Snowy Abdias.
What the fucks a Bachinsky? What the fucks a Munzenrider?
Russ and Nate looking sort of mutant.
Really? Right.
Really? Oh, hey Gareth.
So Sherman, if I don’t remember taking the picture, and you don’t remember being in the picture, it’s like I never posted the picture. Google that.
Then on Saturday things got weird…More later.
