My Desk

yea I know its bomb

I had a dream last night that I was flying over tropical wetlands and marshland in what I assume to be the Yucatan peninsula (a place I have never actually physically been). As I skimmed the surface I noticed congregations of large crabs of various species. I hunted the spidery monsters but they proved elusive, retreating under the protection of the nooks and crannies. I took aim instead for an even larger and more sedentary pray. They where football sized aquatic armadillos with sharp pointed noses and a mean disposition for attacking humans. I picked the largest from the lot (I noticed well over a half dozen in the immediate vicinity) and wrestled him into submission by forcing his head to his butt curling him into a sphere. Carrying this payload I soared back to civilization (Cancun?) and was directed to land by a police officer next to a second police officer. "Your under arrest for poaching!". I looked at her in disbelief..."no freaking way!" I exclaimed. "its a felony to bring harm to the endangered armadillo" she responded. I explained to her that they couldn't possibly be endangered I saw so many and besides I plucked the largest and therefor longest lived from the gene pool. I quickly went on to say that I only just grabbed the critter and he hadn't been out of water more than a few minuets. Based on his size he should be resilient enough to last if we replenish his moisture quickly and return him to his environment.

It sure would have been tasty though.

Round this bend lies one gnarly hill.

I went first, on my traded-homemade-crap skate I raced straight down the hill quickly building kinetic energy. I wizzed past a "Road Closed" sign which I didn' figure applied to me and my skate. Upon closer inspection at at least 2x sprinting speed (30mph) however both the road and hill terminated at a metal gate extended accross the whole pavement.

FUCK

I aimed to the left where an embankment thick with overgrowth provided the most promising bet. Before I could make it a collection of pebbles and sand collected in the low and gave my board a violent case of the shakes.

So violent was the effect of my loss of friction and so squirly was my tight truck-spaced board I completely lost control of my wheels and dove headfirst into the air.

This is what happens when you adventure people, you accept certain risks.

Being goofy footed I had my left foot back, right side forward. My epic primal instincts used my right hand to guide my roll. Unfortunately for me I connected a little to hard with the pavement initially, failing to divert the energy efficiently along the length of my arm at the beginning of the roll. I did however secure contact with the ground along my shoulder and then back wheren my backpack served loyally as a rash sheild. Then my naked left forarm suffered a semi-gnarly road rash to help me back onto my feet.
The entire event would be measured in thousanths of a second.
My skateboard continued under the cast iron gate as I cursed clutching my right wrist and walked right into thick spiderwebs.

Where my skate came to a rest.

I totally forgot to take a picture of the hill itself. Next time Im at more mesa Ill try to make it over here. This was the first time in my life ever even being on this street.

I did get a video of me bombing with gibson right after this incident.

Now let it be known: this is probly 1/5th the gnarlyness of the hill I broke my wrist at 2 minuets prior.