Remember back in the day pyramid shaped chocolate was the staple airport prezzie for anyone lucky enough to escape the grim eighties via flying machine? Well it still kinda is the gift of choice, although Milka is giving it a good run for its money, but I ain't feeling that shid. Anyroad, nice fella and Volcom workhorse Hovin Wang hooked up an interview over at rad site humanpyramids (way to tie it in eh?) Go click and see some nice images and the unfortunate odd glimpse of Dennis Lynn's rotten mug.
Kudos to Big Stu and C.O.C. for the photos.


I don't know why the photos start uploading on the right there, maybe Morgan's catmate flatmate has something to do with it. I don't trust them cats.
None the less, we found ourselves inside Queen Victoria's claimed land's capital, Melbourne. Here's Cris rolling into the state border like she don't give a fug.

I was really looking forward to Melbs, it had easily been the highlight of my year long sojourn in Oz a few years back, plus I always like going to the cities where you can catch up with mates and indulge in local shenanigans.
Apart from maties, ye olde parklands of radness are always waiting there to temp my sweat ingulfed size 11s. I'd never hit the park below before, and its city view and melow vibe gave it a nice street spot feel. Still didn't help me in games of skate, Max and Jordan showed me who was boss. (not me)

Smorgasboard Campbell, just recovering from knee surgery and shreding the mad like a rad man. We're not pointing at our swolen intelects, we're pointing at our sweat levels, I'm at about an 8 after 2 minutes of mid-day sun shred doggin. Morgan has a magic shirt that indicates where he's at.

Morg's hits up the new most excellent mini ramp adition to the Coburg park, fwack this park was rad, but now its radder, bastardos! He's not sweating in this one so his shirt remains numberless until the first trickle.

Prior! That's the guy. A birrevah local leg-end, here he is chilling pre medical test cash bonanza. Was good to get a rip in wirrim.

Good ol' Max can shralp a five-zero without the aid of his head neck and shoulders, impressive!

I was never a water baby, so it comes as no surprise that I tend to flail like a drowned rat in any water holding device, such as a skateboarder pool dog hangout. Fitzy bowls are fun, even for my crippled ass.

Chocy pizza is also fun, especially when preceded by Haloumi cheese pizzas, all cheap cheap and good to eats.


Smorgas and his radicool view of Melbourne atop his sitcom like apartment.

St Kilda beach was a surprise, last time I was there it was packed to the hilt with lobster burned fuggers like myself for some shite festival. This time was far better, as some rad spots were found and jelly fish got told what was what.

Stopped by citypark on the way back from the saints beach, its changed a litlle with some nice tranny additions, but is still tre' rad.

Ain't no rip like a Bug driven rip!

We found ourselves in Max's bug a few times, and each time we either ended up at a rad spot, park or eatery, good shit ma' man!

Dude was like, rippin' hard bra', here he be, mid 5-0 fakie, g.

I stayed on Max's couch last time round for ages and ages and I repayed him by training his bug in the art of human chomping. This technique was based on the venus flytrap principal, easy pickings.

Prarahn park- old bowl truned street like- we caught up with Max & co at this park the day after a multi spot shred, and frustratingly so my pale legs couldn't keep up with the pace, so we opted to catch a flick while they hit 5 parks. Yeah 5! Jayzist! We saw Rachel getting married with Anne Hathaway, 2 hours I'll never get back, Christ is sucked. Jayzist Christ.

My Ned Flanders daytime brews of deliciousness adventure continued in Melbs with some good ol' sasparrilly, fan-diddly.

Prior rockin' a hardcore 40 of ginger beer, no-one does that shit like those hicks in Bundy.

My da used to have the knickname Fad, nothing to do with a sweeping trend of chalky sweets, just some other reason my childish mind couldn't grasp.

In the spirit of lame quips, this city is quite the cultural "hot pot". Good selection of food and tom foolery on at all times. Chorizos e dark choco, good sheeed.

Let's end this marvelous citys blog with some motion pictures from Max's bloggy set to the latest skip rope rhyme:

Silver Shadow RIP

My trips behind the cooker with a torch will never be the same again.

Flick your

I updated the aul flickr account with a bunch of "drawerings" that can be seen subliminally in No Use. Clickty Click.

The cat is ourreh the bag

Remember that episode of the Simpson's where Bart discovers he's had a twin living in the attic? Well maybe that episode explains Bart's popularity, as twins are inherintly more popular people, they're the result of a happy genetic accident and wether we like it or ot, we prefer twins, they're just cool.

I've always wondered where the fascination with Gibbo came from, for years I resigned it to his sickening dark witt, blunt honesty and sharp snobish dress sense. Now I've discovered that all those things are irrelivant, Gibbo is fascinating because he is a twin, we just didn't know it. Well good ol' cap'n crunch, unlike the animated yellow rude boy Bart, has known all along about his twin, but he's kept his dark secret to himself until now.

His twin didn't tell me his name, he doesn't really speak, he just gets stuck into his cut price cans of Lidl beer. They share a room out in Delgany where they bro down, talk about girls and get locked, true twin bonding.
Look at this pic above- Gibbo was out of the room, but his bro drew on that ol' twin power and knew exarctly what Gibbo was thinking. "I'd love another dozen pairs of vans"
Gibbo came back into the room, his big bro (he was born 5 seconds before Gibbo) whispered what he thought Gibbo was thinking, and sure enough, he was right. His bro doesn't even wear shoes and he knew this! Amzinck!
On a side note, Gibbo found this photo inside an album sleeve in the old Bray tape exchange place that used to be down by the old DART station. You just don't get that type of random quality from high street record shops or downloads (unless they somehow embed a link to the pair on the right in your latest tune) I wonder if these girls are from Bray? Gibbo's bro doesn't care, he was too busy drawing attention to the cool can of coke in the foreground, he knew its his sibling's favourite drink.
Twins man, fuggin telekinetic radness!

Stone age 101

So I was out in Ballymun today when a group of young citizens requested a lighter from me. Upon declining to meet their needs I was greeted with a shower of rocks and torrents, a sort of hazzing for the out-of-towners if you will. For some reason it made me think of this:

100th post celebration extraviganza!

What better way to celebrate the milestone 100 posts than by watching a Dutch man throw shapes around a tourist hub?