While visiting Woodward Extreme Boogie Board Camp, I slammed my elbow into my kidney. Next thing I know, I’m pissing blood clots. Spent four or five days at the hospital and wasn’t allowed to leave the camp for a week. Had to break out due to gay-ass Rollerbladers and nasty-ass food. Haven’t returned since.
Tried to bust a Howard slide and flew space cowboy to my grill—BLAM!
Tried to get streetacle when I was 13. While trying to boardslide some rail, my foot slid off the nose—BLAM!—dick to rail. Pissed blood and ended up having a catheter for six weeks. The doctor said I wouldn’t be able to have kids. He lied.
No job for 10 years, traveling the world, lots of ganja, a couple broads, some trife life team managers and large amounts of brew have taken their toll on my memory. So…
All these years my brain has been working, working so good it seems to have burned some hair off the top of my head. Damn, getting older is a bag.
I hate the dentist. I don’t want anyone touching my grill with some sander.
Stitches in chin:
Too many scorpions to explain.
I was born with two bones in my arm grown together. I can’t turn my wrist in certain directions. I’m gonna scope a
handicapped plate for my car one day.
: On my first 151 tour I sat on my ankle. I stayed on the trip for a week hoping it would get better. Well, my whole leg turned purple. One night I took some mushrooms from this hippie, and the next thing I know I’m walking around. The mushrooms cured me. As they wore off, I was in pain. I went to the hospital, had to have surgery and scored a tight-ass scar.
It’s a little jacked from running down big-ass trannies. Pads are a bag; I just want to cruise, sucka!