War Of The Roses, Kung Fu & Porno...

Yet another skateboarding related update and by "skateboarding related" I mean, taking photos of all of the shit that happens at skateboarding events except the actual act of skateboarding itself, which I think you'll find is actually way better anyway.

Last weekend saw the War Of The Roses, the annual Yorkshire vs Lancashire shindig that has been running for the last 5 years. It started out as an idea Silent Will had to get a load of skaters from Yorkshire & Lancashire together in a park in each county and having a skate jam for money but unfortunately the idea caught on so other folk from the rest of the country started to make the trip too. Unfortunately for me, I do not live in either Yorkshire or Lancashire. I live at the other end of the country, the southern bit, where shandies flow freely and men aren't frowned at for wearing coats when it snows, so getting to Yorkshire and Lancashire is a right fucking ballache... 

After deliberating and waiting in vain for someone else to offer to drive me up there so I could have a quiet 3 hour catnap in the passenger seat, I picked up Cockleg, who since his last blog appearance has ventured out into the big bad world of university. While he is there wasting my hard earned tax money, he enjoys getting into fights and getting stabbed with house keys and is doing his level best to burn through his student load as quickly as he can by spending as much money as humanly possible on Stripclub Specials, Jeremy Clarkson outfits and experimental treatments to stop his legs looking like pornstar cocks in the hope that I'll stop calling him Cockleg. Poor Cockleg. 

Nantwich's premier Nicholas Cage impersonator, Grosa also made the effort, as did Brighton's preeminent hairy freestyler, Mr Darren Nolan, who gave me a Heel Toe Magic hat in a transparent attempt to bribe me into driving him up there... Fortunately, keen eyed readers will notice I fucking love hats so it worked. Bribery is awesome. Plus he kind of looks how you would think the Ultimate Warrior would look if he was only 15 and didn't bosch a load of steroids and hoover up a load of coke, so I didn't want to wind him up incase he went mental and tried to suplex me or something... In case any of you don't believe me I have photographic proof just to strengthen my claim...

Uncanny. I decided to get all the skateboarding in the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop so had a game of skate in the carpark with Ronny and Cundall. There was footage of it but Rich aka Voodoo of t'forum decided that it was far too shit gnarly so deleted it off the face of the internets. Which is probably for the best... Rest assured I was throwing down some preeeetty tidy maneuvers

Ron looked excited and Cundall just looked confused. 

This dude wandered down from Newcastle with some kneepads, writstguards and a home made tshirt to stand next to Powley and throw the horns. Powley really does love Mosher Drops, but then again, who doesn't?

This is Porno Paul. Here he is, inexplicably reading some kind of Mother & Baby Magazine. God only knows how that could ever end up in a skatepark but it definitely was and Porno was loving it. I can't work out what was more disturbing: the weird naked baby centrefold lying back on a bed of lego or how funny Porno found it... 

It was only a matter of time until it went a step too far... 

After we had finished defacing Parenting Magazines with some borderline content and improvised glory holes, Porno and I decided to play our game. It doesn't have a name although I am angling for "The PornoDickfingers Stroking Game" and the rules are very very simple. When someone walks past you, whoevers turn it is, has to stroke them (strength of contact is variable although anything that veers towards heavy petting might draw attention). Once you have successfully stroked your target, it is your opponents turn and they have to stroke the next person, regardless of who they are. This repeats until one player gives up and decides not to stroke the next person. The winner is the person that doesn't bottle it at the last minute. Think of it like Chicken but with people that don't know they're playing. Its best played in crowds. If it takes off we can have a championship. I'll keep you all posted although I should warn you that Porno does have a real aptitude for this game which coupled with a pathological desire to touch people is pretty awe inspiring to behold...

Action Shot

Sooner or later though unless you have a conveyor belt of new targets, you will run out of people to touch and sure enough, we did, so had no option but to turn back to the Premier Travel Lodge Tavern to ditch our gear and wash our balls (individually, its not a team sport) before heading out the afterparty, which is pretty much the main reason that people go to these things anyway... The only problem is, that as soon as you put a number of unattended skaters in a hotel room hundreds of miles away from home, its only a matter of time before they start bouncing off the ceiling like a kid giddy on lemonade...

Sure enough, Cockleg didn't fail to deliver, and precisely 15 seconds after unlocking the door and turning the telly on, proceeded to jump up and down on the bed at a breakneck pace and kick out like a retarded caucasian Bruce Lee in a ropey wolfshirt...

When the appeal of beating off fighting off a hoarde of imaginary angry baddies had faded, Cockleg, Grosa and The Ultimate Nolan proceeded to make an assault obstacle course in the bedroom before we all went downstairs and had burgers for our tea... 

Cockleg was stoked that he would get a chance to wear his Jeremy Clarkson costume of chinos and a sensible shirt and confused a group of young lads who mistakenly thought that he was their dad come early to pick them up... Look how sensible he looks. Grosa was too busy concentrating on squinting at the bottom of his glass on the off chance that it might refill itself to pose for this picture but he was later heard to say how sensible Matt looked and expressed his surprise that such a nice looking young man would spend £130 on Special Dances at Legs Akimbo Lapdancing in Skegness...

The Clarkson outfit soon paid off when Su Pollard took her geggs off long enough to try and woo him... 

Its not immediately clear what is happening here but the guy that looks like he is french kissing his own hand is a Silvergult, which to anyone frequenting the Sidewalk Forum should be explanation enough, who spent a good 5 minutes doing a deeply erotic and pretty sensual dance entirely on his own much to the disgust of the weird trendy birds that were already in the bar trying to ignore the 50 odd skaters that descended like a sweaty plaid covered plague... 

Some other shit happened, Smedley gave it 150% on the dancefloor as usual and did a few righteous headspins before the almost entirely white population of the skateboarding afterparty entourage forgot that we weren't born in South Central LA or Queens and started bobbing around at the very slightest hint of HippyHop... We're so urban and that... I didn't take any more photos because I was busy drinking. It was tops. 

The following morning we discovered that it had snowed a good 6 inches overnight and Powley thought that it would be the best time to unveil his pretty incredible sleeping bag suit which has spurned me into action and I am now in the process of trying to blag one for myself. If by some remote chance anyone from www.Lippiselkbag.com is reading this then get in touch. I'll promote the shit out of it for you, I promise. 

We (and by "we" I mean "I") drove to Blackpool, hung out with Big Woody who runs Rampcity and ate chilliburgers which are a pretty efficient way of purging almost every liquid from your body at the same time. 

Thats about it, I saw some other people, some other people saw me, some guys jumped around on skateboards and then everyone had to go home. I spent a long long time driving and spent the following day laying about in either the bath or in bed. It was pretty triumphant. 

More updates coming soon, I saw Delores the prodigal dove return and case out the nest so there may well be some Satellite Dove updates in the pipelines... I'll keep you posted.

The Mini Ramp Championship, Product Placement and Lizard Drinks

Welcome to another thrilling update to what could well be the best thing on the internet. In the last week I have managed to gain three, thats 3, new disciples meaning that I am now only one behind Jesus. I should have pointed out when you signed up that you are going to be expected to stop whatever you are doing when I recruit number 12 and follow me around wherever I go documenting my every move and writing your own gospel to pass on my triumphant message. I haven't worked out what my message will be yet but we've got a bit of time to kill before lucky number 12 rocks up so I'll work something out then. As a vague idea it might be why we should shoot Janet Street-Porter but I'll iron out the kinks and get back to you soon...

In other news, my intrepid French correspondent (bonjour mademoiselle) has sent me an urgent email alerting me to recent discoveries in France. Apparently as I am already being lauded as pretty much the best thing ever after my insightful and sensitive expose on all things French here the plucky people of Caen have named a bar in my honour. I can only imagine how awesome it must be to drink in it. If I had to guess though, and as I can tell you're hanging on my every word, I will, I'll guess: very. Very rad. One day we will go there disciples and a thoroughly nice time will be had by all... I promise.

Keen-eyed readers out there, or indeed anyone with a fairly good boredom threshold, 5 minutes to spare and the ability to find the last post, will know that I promised skateboarding after a noticeable absence of it on here, and never one to intentionally disappoint I thought the best place to capture it would be in Skegness, home of the UKSA Annual Miniramp Championships. 

After getting lost on the way and ending up perilously close to recreating a scene out of Deliverance, Poosink, Dan Leech: Pro Skater and I finally found our way to Skegness' stinging park X-site. Here we were presented with Billboard. I am guessing that Bill here works for Monster. Either that or he has mild to moderate mental issues and went bat shit crazy at an energy drink gift shop. Either way, I think its safe to say that he is a total gaylord. Honestly. I ask you... I make no secret of the fact that I am down for whatever free stuff comes my way but a Monster Hat, shirt, two wristbands, a bandana and a picture perfect photo-op beside two stickers? Christ even I have standards... Add to that a fashion mullet, a tribal forearm tattoo, liberal use of the word "DOOOOD" throughout the day and running away from the ramp with a Monster Banner clutched round his neck like a cape and you have a recipe for a Battylender... 

There must have been something in the water as shortly after taking a photo of Billboard, a group of ratkids emerged to stand next to the fence of the park. As weird as that is in itself I could probably have let it go without mention if they didn't then spend the next 10 minutes pulling their trousers as far up as they'd go, tucking their trouser legs into their socks which were also pulled right up then opening their flies to have a look at each other's balls... 

Inside was a different matter. These two heros were seen standing next to blog favourite Smedatron, truly repping UK Skateboarding. Im just thankful that I didn't wear my Bowling For Soup Hoody and the longest jean shorts in history as I don't quite think I could have made it work as much as these badmen... You bet they look nonchalant, I bet they spent the morning smashing supermodels and hoovering up lines of prang the size of poodles legs contemplating the world's greatest mosher drop... Gangsters...

Ever so slightly less gangster, but not much, we have Dan Leech: Pro Skater, making his blog debut. Easily in the top five flame haired skaters in the country, don't let his slightly portly appearance deceive you, Leech is able to shred pretty much anything put in front of him, used to have an agoraphobic cat and can grow a very powerful red beard which is a pretty good recommendation in my eyes. 

He also owns what could be the rankest thing I have ever seen in a bottle. I have no idea where this came from, it has Chinese writing on it but I'm pretty sure that he's never been to China so God only knows. It is some obscure alcoholic concoction with two dead lizards floating around in it and it doesnt bear thinking about how dog rough it would taste. Apparently All Terrain Trev has stated that he'll eat one of the lizards for £20. I will keep you posted as I hear more, I dont know if I really want that sort of thing lowering the tone of my otherwise stellar blog...

Leech took time out of his busy schedule of looking a bit portly to take a stinging photo of me doing my best trick. I then went outside to the plaza and performed a crowdpleasing street demo with the Sidewalk Forum's TomDay. Minds were blown...

Some dude from Scotland called T-Bag came down and shredded. I honestly couldn't tell you why he's called T-Bag but I'm going to guess that it's because he likes putting his balls in things. That may not be true but I'll run with that until I hear otherwise. Here he is ollieing into the ramp from the extension with my badly timed photography to forever document it. 

Greg Nowik stormed into first place with a whole host of rarely seen stunts. I managed to get a slightly better picture of one of them.

I had a ropey smooth sausage... 

...and Billboard came out of the woodwork long enough to try and storm the product toss, presumably to get something to compliment his entire Monster outfit. If there is a better advertisment than Billboard here, not to drink that arsehole rotting poison than then I have yet to see it... Reports indicate that he was seen outside shaking like a shitting dog and whimpering to himself pouring a can of Monster into his own pocket and humming Busted songs. I just made that up actually but look at him, its definitely possible...

Cheers to Mr Shitknees Powley and Nick & Toby from X-site for sorting it out. I'm pretty sure that Toby told me his missus loves this blog, as well she should, so hello Mrs Toby, glad you like it. If that guy wasn't Toby then thank you Mrs Other Bloke, I'm stoked this thing is gathering followers. 

Thats it for this time, as I am in the process of applying for my Shotgun Licence (oh yes) expect the next update to take a considerably more agricultural slant. I've even got a shooting coat. 

Make sure you leave comments as well, its been ages since anyone has commented on here, I want to know that I'm not talking to myself...

Benihanna's, Puppies & Abandonment...

Christ, 3 posts in under a week, either I'm leading a really fascinating life, or this thing is starting to monopolise my time in a similar way to the Sidewalk Forum, the single best place on the internet for talking about winkies, HalfCabs and casting aspersions on other people's sexuality. It can be found here if you have a few years spare and the patience of a saint, while in other Sidewalk related news, apparently I have reached the giddy heights of Internet Super Hero. It really is a rad day... Im giving some serious thought to tacking it onto the end of everything I sign, along with my Honoury Lordship from Sealand, (courtesy of the the God-Awful Redbull Media Machine which I may well go into another time) my title would be: Lord Dickfingers of Sealand Ba Hons, Internet Superhero...  Standard.

As mentioned in the last post, yesterday saw the Relentless Ride With Us Tour hit up a wet Pioneer, which meant that my only chance of skating anything (the 3ft high Miniramp) was dashed leaving me to do the only logical thing: have a brew and loiter. I managed to talk Chalk Kneed Porsche enthuisiast and curator of Shit Knees, Powley, seen below feeling the burn, into inadvertantly wandering into a retards teaparty and having a brew before realising just how awkward it was to stand around in a special needs day care group wearing flat caps talking about just how useless Cundall really is... (answers on a postcard with "Totally" clearly written on 'em...)

To overcome the weirdness we bullied this guy (whose name escapes me) into performing endless Benihanna's for our eager blogging fingers although I suspect he loved it really. 

Sad news: Daisy The Dove v.2 has finally done one, and has vacated the satellite nest for good. Reasons are unclear: she was either too big to fit in the bloody thing anymore or she might have finally got the hump with a bearded retard leaning in taking photos to update you Four (and Toby) but either way, she is gone. Expect another update this time next year if she returns and pops out an egg assuming I or you havent got bored with reading and writing this shit...

Mofugga, the artist formerly known as Cockleg, (who has asked me to stop calling him that as he's worried that the crushing weight of my influence on the internets might cause it to stick in real life) has only gone and got himself a dog. And not just a normal dog, oh no, his amazing little mate is called Klaus and is pretty much the raddest thing. Ever. Check out the pictures below of me looking smitten and the little rascal eating something that could be a greengage or birdshit. As cool as he was, I dont really want to be around him in 6-8 hours time... Have fun with that...

No idea what the next post is going to contain as Im still unsure whats happening next week but theres a more than good chance it will involve skateboarding and retards... Oh and my best mate in the whole world Toby wanted me to pimp out his blog which is full of interesting and informative stuff which you should totally check out to make him feel better about himself.