I went on a mission yesterday to film a day in the trife with this guy…



I say trife because I mean exactly that. Dude lives in a matchbox the size of my old SDSU dorm room’s closet, and he shares it with 2 other people. To top it off, it’s a zero bedroom, with zero beds, zero couches and zero livability. If you multiply that by the occupancy (3), the end result is the quantitative configuration of trife. It’s simple math.

Billy Roper did however manage to round up a crew of approximately 20 people who were willing to spend an afternoon at a cold filtered swamp called Big Wang’s. In attendance, was a wide range of skateboarding types, including my 8th grade best friend’s favorite pro skateboarder in 1995… Dylan Gardener. I was contemplating telling Dylan that he was in fact Derrick Fischel’s all time super hero in middle school, but I figured that might be a little strange. When I left, I thought about calling Derrick Fischel to tell him I saw Dylan Gardner, then I remembered that Derrick went to prison for shooting a porn that apparently starred a seventeen-year-old girl… Resulting in child pornography charges, along with accessory to statutory rape. I for sure didn’t want to tell anyone that, nor did it really fit the context of any conversation I engaged in throughout the day. Maybe I’ll send Derrick a letter. I bet he’de be hyped.

Anyways, watch for that trife video.

Good shit Kellen... The party was off the chain.



In other news, my cats a fucking jerk. Quit bringing birds into my bathroom you little hater...

There is still hope!

Big ups to Danny from Alphanumeric for sending me this lulz worthy reminder of myself in 11th grade. No I'm not Spencer Fujimoto, I'm the Vanilla Ice looking fellow who is... Studying him? This was 1999 during Alpha 1.0...

Laird got drunk this weekend... Nothing new. During a regular bout of nightlife in North Park, a stumbling Laird and I left one bar for another just blocks away. It was around 1:30am, so there were plenty of people in the streets with abnormal blood/alcohol levels, but Laird was certainly placing in the top ten.

Not uncommon on nights like this, is the occasional run in with a drunken soldier on the streets, or group of drunken soldiers for that matter. They're sometimes bummed that they aren't in the presence of women, and feel the need to drunkenly talk shit from across the street for no reason whatsoever. One should never take anything said in these situations to the heart, and in my opinion, it's best to continue on your journey without pursuing interaction.

First of all, let me point out that I've never really been into a physical altercation. I beat up this dude one time in highschool, but later learned he was retarded, so I don't really count that.

Laird is more inviting to this type of behavior however. I learned this when we were yelled at from across University Avenue by Sgt Slaughter and the rest of the Metal Militia. Seeing as there were only 2 of us to counter the 8 of them, I figured it wiser to leave them be. Laird couldn't do that though. He immediately flipped the bird, and told them to come visit the other side of the street for an assured neck snapping. I then reminded Laird, the trained MMA fighter that their army out numbered us by 400 percent and that he was too drunk to walk straight, let alone throw blows. He promised me that he was confident in his decision to offer beat downs to the soldiers, and that I should get my camera out and ready for when the show started.

No more than 10 seconds later, and as I was turning my camera on to capture the glory of Lairds drunken shadow boxing, Laird was on the ground bleeding, pleading for mercy, and offering apologies to all 8 of our countries defenders. The soldiers reminded Laird that it's impolite to talk shit from across the street, and that he should be more careful about his decisions. Laird thanked them for their time and for the bloody reminder that he is a mortal being. We then walked to Lairds pad, where he punched several holes in his wall, and vowed to take revenge on them, and me, for not jumping in and getting my ass beat as well. I ate a piece of toast and went to sleep. The end.

The apartment I'm moving out of today was the epitome of suck. When we moved in 8 months ago, they told me I had to buy a fridge. I did, and now that I'm moving out, I thought I'd be the homie and hook up the next tenant so that they didn't have to go through all the same bullshit as me. The landlord doesn't appreciate my generosity however, and has decided to charge me 200 dollars for removing the fridge, even though the next tenant said he wants the fucking thing!

That my friends, is some stupid shit.

Anyways, if you ever find yourself in a pickle of similar nature, throw your trash up on Craigslist. You can have someone at your house with a god damned truck and dolly in under 10 minutes to pick up everything you never wanted, along with an endless sea of emails to last you the rest of the week. God bless the internetz.

First and foremost, let me say that I am no Ryan Sheckler hater. I think he's just swell. As a matter of fact, I'de be happy to parallel the life of Mike to the Life Of Ryan in a couple areas. This ad however just so happened to achieve perfect scores on all aspects of clownability, thus receiving official LULZ for the week.

Having skated in San Diego for almost 13 years, It's amazing that I never made it over to Carlsbad Highschool to skate the infamous gap. I finally got a chance to peep it on Saturday and promised everyone I would ollie it, even though I'm completely unqualified to do so. Lucky for me, the pigs came and quite possibly saved my life...

Cruising the streets in a Benz, coked out and with no reguard for the precious life of a 150 year old woman will deem these results, and make you the best dude ever...

Got a new camera. That simple fact prompted me to wake up early, hate on Trey's shirt, skate a park rail, get smoked in tennis, hit up Kevin's BBQ and learn important lessons in love...

The host, the raps, the judges and the paralysis of Emcee Eli all play an integral part in this video being my new favorite Youtube clip of all time. Do yourself a favor and make it to 2:18...



"Gotcha rannin from da cat".

It's just part of a balanced breakfast... From Kellog's.









Follow your nose son.

Spring Break Yo Self was a slam dunk for me. Brandon Turner walked out with 10 Geebers and the party began...







Brandon reeeally wanted me to snap a photo of this chicks costume malfunction at the after party. Two of my photos didn't appease him, so he snapped this one himself...



After the after party, I went to the after after party at my boy Laird's house. Glenn from the Jabawokeez was in the building. He's not REALLY in the Jabawokeez, but he had no problem telling drunk hipster chicks that he was...



If you don't know what a hipster chick looks like... Here you go, straight out of the god damned handbook...



This is Laird in the flesh. Laird is the worst drunk ever... He's the dude that calls his boss at 4am to tell him he's drunk, expresses his deepest darkest secrets to everyone who never asked, and eventually gets beat up. He's a well versed MMA fighter but his powers are useless when drowned in Tequila.





Two weeks ago, Laird was texting someone on his iPhone. I thought it would be funny to hi-kick it out of his hand while he did so. It was, but the screen shattered into millions of expensive pieces. He was so faded, that I was temporarily able to convince Laird that there was nothing wrong with his phone. In the morning however, he realized the fallacy of the night's prior argument. Fast foward to his party, drunk Laird decided to even the score by hi-kicking my blood red, Saliditos doused cup of tequila onto his own floor. What an idiot...



Jabawokee Glenn doesn't sag his pants anymore because of this...

Sick! I never even knew there was a music video for this classic Dilated track. The video is shit but it marks the movement just months before Dilated turned to complete garbage. One of my favorite songs...

I've lost a great deal of faith in it. After a delicious Subway lunch, I walked outside yesterday to discover a huge dent in my whip that wasn't there before my Tuna Sandwich. No one came looking for me, nor was there a note waiting for me. After sleuthing around, I learned that some dumb breez who worked at the neighboring business thought it was all good for her to bash my shit up and bounce because she was "late for an appointment" and "scared". Cops were called, tears were shed and justice was served. Click the pic below to hear her pathetic attempt at an explanation...

First of all... AMFM is closed. Well, it's not really... You just have to find this guy, Jay. He drives around in his Mom's Camry and is selling the left over inventory. SOMEONE's making a big push towards employee of the month.



I hear he's giving out great deals. He even has a little register in the backseat. This might revolutionize retail...


Glenn didn't leave empty handed...


If you're wondering at all why we closed in the first place, it's simple. We were making too much money... It didn't seem fair to the big mall stores. I hear they're hurtin right now.


To celebrate the implosion of AMFM, I went on a Carnival Cruise. For anyone who has never been on one, consider the investment. It's the best 400 dollars of my girlfriends money I ever spent...



It's 50 percent booze cruise, 50 percent geriatric clinic. The cruise accomodated all by stopping in the most boring island ever, Catalina. Then they dropped us kids off in Ensenada.




In other news... I spent a glorious night at my boy Jose's wedding. It was the most hip hoppest wedding I ever dun sawed. Jose, I truely am sorry about the my reception speech. Tell your parents I was only kidding.



Last but not least, I am moving to the glorious land of San Clemente. I've only been there once, but I know it will be smack-tastic. How could Ryan Sheckler's hometown be anything less? If anyone has his address, phone number or check routing number, please contact me.

This is the beach in San Clemente. I took that shit with my iPhone. That thing could be a post card son! Bow to it... Goodnight.

Why doesn't Black Thought ever get mentioned in the best MC ever list? Dude hasn't dropped a weak verse in all 6 million of The Root's albums. If this track is any indication of how fantastic their next one is about to be, I'll consider not stealing it via Limewire...

It was this dudes birthday this weekend. He dropped 300 at the shop (Thanks), then he showed me his itinerary for the night... That's livin.



I went to a wedding lastnight. I didn't know anyone there, including the bride and groom. I got to know the bartender pretty well though, and she got to see what it's like to serve free drinks all night and not get tipped. I was on one good enough one to buy this used Kurt Cobaine shirt later that evening...

My homie JAY has a lot of theories. Sometimes I think he has mental disabilities. He truely believes a lot of things that shouldn't be believed by someone who has a working brain. For instance, he actually believes that cigarettes do not cause cancer, rather that the cigarette companies "inject cancer" into one out of every 200,000 cigarettes. He considers himself lucky to have not smoked one of those yet... You will Jay.

One of his theories however does hold validity. He believes that money and success have rendered the RZA's ability to make quality productions. He says that after making some ends, the RZA was able to purchase some quality recording/production equipment in hopes of making his music sounds better. This idea however, made his music sound much, much worse.

Have you heard the new Wu album? Unnaceptable. I actually gave up on RZA after the whole Wu Gambino's tragedy... Then this surfaced. Wu Tang!

I got my swagger back for 2 mediocre runs and a tre bomb, making this Chronicles the most successful yet.