A journey to the whatever side.
I sent the above image to Lanolin with this very simple message attached;
“I wish you were here.”
What I got in response were those same words, only with the following image included;
Just when I think it impossible for Ritte to burrow their way any further into my heart, like a Belgish colored parasite, they do just that.
Epicness abounds as the general population barely begins to cast aside the shackles of winter. A prime example of which is the kickoff for the upcoming 12th annual Grasshopper series;
Every fast person and a whole array of slow ones will most likely be in attendance, so why wouldn’t you be there?
A fair piece down the coast the continuation of the Soil Saloon series will occurring, and with this most recent installment, a challenge for yours truly;
“seriously. I mean, I just love it that you put our posters up on your blogotron, but I’m beginning to think you are incapable of drinking beers and riding bikes, and due to this inability, you create your psuedo persona in blog form, doing exactly that.
Pssshaw…. but, hey, I’d love it if you proved me wrong and showed on up to this here shindig. (or the next one we’ll have towards the end of febuary. Say it with me now…’time trail’ (sic)
It’s true. This whole image that you’ve come to know through our years together is just that. It’s all smoke and mirrors. Truth be told, I am a fairly well off gay Latino marketing executive named Alejandro Guzman living in Park City, Utah who just happens to not only have never touched a drop of alcohol in my life, but I don’t even know how to ride a bike.
Really for that matter, before I decided on the persona of a hirsute, kind of rough-and-tumble type, I was leaning towards the image depicted here in this photo of “Loudass, Demonika and me”;
How’s that for a kick in the pants?
But truth be told, it feels good to get that off my chest, and I hope that we can still be friends.
Back before you knew I was a sham, I probably would have posted these images from an email I would have pretended to have gotten from Joe Parkin titled ‘how to fail a test with dignity’;
This list is reminiscent of a test I saw somewhere that asked the query “what is the opposite of a professional?”
Naturally, the answer given by the test taker wasn’t ‘amateur’ as you might expect, but rather the far more logical riposte of ‘noob’.
This also brings to mind the article that was originally published in Vice Magazine (volume number 5, issue number ten, December 1998) called ‘Kids Are Stupid’. The reason I am able to recall the details of said issue is because the article was also published in the must-have book of the decade The Vice Guide to Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll, an excerpt from which is as follows;
“Witness a conversation I had with a student after reading a paragraph entitled “Birch Bark Canoes”;
Me: Orson, could you tell me what kind of tree the Hurons used to make their canoes?
That’s a good answer. They used spruce sap to repair leaks in their canoes, but what was the main building material?
No. I just told you that wasn’t entirely correct. There was another type of tree used. They used the bark of a certain kind of tree. What was that tree?
Stop saying that. I’ll give you a clue. The title of the section we just read was called “Birch Bark Canoes.” Now, what kind of tree did they use?
I don’t know.
I’ll give you another clue: BIRCH BARK CANOES.
I just told you the answer. It’s birch bark. They made their canoes from birch bark.
The next day I asked Orson the same question again and he had no idea. I did not lose my temper, nor did I insult him. I’d like to see you practice such restraint.”
The article goes on to say that this teacher in question, finally being at his wit’s end decided instead of bullshitting the first term reports, as had been the common practice in the past, he opted to just write exactly what he thought about each of the students.
As you might imagine it is as funny as it is uncomplimentary. Skinny Bee, bless his derelict heart, is a high school teacher at Oakland High, and has story after story of a similar ilk.
Most recently about a student who, after repeated warnings, still refused to pay attention and would sit glued to his sidekick, watching basketball in class. Finally having enough, Bee called the student’s parents to express his concern, to which the father put down the phone, walked across the room and said “nigga, don’t be watching the games in class.” He then returned to the phone where he assured Bee that the young man had been spoken to and would not engage in such activities again.
As amusing as these stories are, they are equally horrifying considering that these folks will soon enough be running the show.
Now this next bit of news has nothing to do with that, but if you wanted a more cohesive presentation of information, you would probably be here. From my long time homie Stephen, and former publisher of the old ‘Mobile City’ zine comes this bit of info for any and all who’ve spent time in the mean streets of DC;
Aden, AZ, Roman, Corey.. I’m looking at you.
Finally, it will be three years on Sunday that the awesomeness of Poison Idea’s Pig Champion passed from this mortal coil. Thank you Pig. I hope that wherever you ended up, there are a million gallons of beer to drink and at the end of the day and you get to brush your teeth with a barbecue rib;
Photo courtesy of John Leach.
You frequently hear the phrase “after they made him, they broke the mold.” Well, I suspect in Pig’s case, there has never been a greater truth.
Alright, screw this. I’m late for a wine and cheese party downtown, (I only go there for the cheese) and I have yet to make myself look fabulous.
Regardless of who this is behind the keyboard, as always, I hope you all have absolutely divine weekends.
Three snaps in a Z formation, and I’m out.
Concerning said photo: which one is Loudass?
Mr. Champion was not made from a mold. Like the last pancake, which generally consists of that last bit of batter, scraped from the bowl to make a giant, mutant flapjack, so too was the Pig.
Pinto, Loudass is the one with the nice hair. Duh.
I suspect tomorrows LT test results will look something like the above. I’ll just have to squeeze the ol’ teats harder…
“As amusing as these stories are, they are equally horrifying considering that these folks will soon enough be running the show.”
Would you say the probability of that being said about us, those years back, is highly likely? I think that would explain a lot.
Did that teacher in the Vice article (in the last paragraph) really use “loose” when the correct term is “lose”?
Here’s a link to more of the article, including his student summaries:
Nope. As always, all typos can and should be attributed to me.
Is that picture for real of you and hurl as hipsters?
Alejandro, your posts are too long and too funny. How am I supposed to secretly fuck around at work? Also, why are you still using a wired computer you fucking Luddite?
I cried out loud…having trouble breathing.
Those students are geniuses.
I object: notwithstanding his nice hair, my Hipster Avatar has a poor sense of irony, no tattoos, and a shitty fixed gear. I hereby request reassignment, as follows:
This individual is much better equipped to serve as an exemplar of the Dead End of Western Civilization.
the swan song is over for the littlest dancer…
did anyone else see the naked photo shoot on the train tracks last weekend? no camera so it never happened.
So a question that will haunt me till I hit the dirt is who was heavier, Pig Champion or the Go-Go’s?
Before anyone starts throwing around the “h” word about the photo of the 3 young pretty ones I’ll have you know the guy on right is one of the fastest riders I know. He kicked everyone’s ass during CX season in FL on a thrown together fixed cross bike.
Poison Idea at this years Chaos in Tejas!
Yeah, not only is the guy on the right the nicest person I have ever met in my entire life, but one of the finest athletes, too. He’d walk all over any of you in pretty much anything. EVER. And look good doing it.
Firstly, for my part, if you read what I wrote, I made nary a disparaging comment about any of the people in the photograph. Secondly, from time to time I need to draw from a myriad of sources for visual fodder to accompany what I’ve written, should my own personal pool of imagery be insufficient. Thirdly, he might be the nicest person in the world as well as a tremendous athlete, but the fact remains that when I typed in ‘hipster’ into Google, there he was.