Skateboarder Magazine Aug/Sep 2012 Issue – Caswell Berry Interview

Originally published in our Aug/Sep 2012 issue.
Interview: Christian Senrud
Photos: Wes Tonascia

“Some years back, our friend Crazy Eddie used to refer to everything as, “the besstttt.” He would pronounce it very softly, in a long, drawn-out sort of way. Drinking…”the bessstt.” Blazing out some trog…”the bessstt.” This dude or that dude, whatever it was, it was the best. It got to the point where it was just a fucking joke. Yet eons later, Ed calling Caswell, “the bessstt,” over and over and over, still to this day couldn’t have been further from a joke. I have had the privilege of watching this young kid with a rattail, turn into not only one of the best skateboarders I have ever seen in person, but a man who loves his family and friends, and treats people with equal respect. Sure, he smokes enough weed to make Snoop Dogg barf. And probably smokes enough cigs to make the Marlboro Man trade in his horse for a bitch basket. These things just add to an all around package deal that nobody can pass up. Even if you think he’s a douche, (which probably speaks more about you than him) his all around murder of whatever he skates is undeniable. Caswell is one of my favorites, and if you take your head out of your ass, he will probably be one of yours as well.”
— Screaming Lord Halba

Feeble

Feeble

How is life as a homeowner?
Actually, right now I was looking at my fence outside and I think part of it has become termite food because it’s kind of leaning. It’s awesome yet really stressful for the fact that I don’t really know how to do any real project other than the little things and I still don’t even really know how to do those. I just kind of wing it.

Yeah, you can’t just call the landlord.
Yeah, no shit. I don’t feel like I need to call anybody quite yet because nothing’s really falling apart or falling down. I don’t want that to happen, but I figure maybe signs will show and I’ll call a professional.

You ever get Zach Wallin [Enjoi am/resident carpenter] to come pay some dues and have him fix some stuff?
Totally, man. I just try to throw the word out. Most of the time all of my homies who do that work are so burnt by the time they could get around to it that they don’t want to do anything extra. They do side projects with other homies, so they’re always constantly into something. I just remembered, though, I almost blew myself up with a water heater. That was really fuckin’ scary, man.

How’d that happen?
My mom’s water heater went out. It’s just old, you know? So me and the housemate that I have, he was helping me put it in and we ran into a bunch of stupid other problems, like needing to do some soldering and all this crap. The first new water heater we got, we returned it to Home Depot because there was something faulty with it or whatever. The second one, we bring it in and install it and it’s daytime so I can’t see that it’s already lit, so I’m down there fucking with all the twist knobs and whatever, trying to push this electronic lighter and it keeps making this snapping noise but I don’t hear anything catching flame. I don’t know what I did, but I opened the gas valve for a split second and then I pushed that button again and—holy shit, man—the internal tank blew and my hair and everything blew back from the force of the explosion, but, luckily, it was all contained inside. It was so loud it scared the shit out of me. It was like a grenade.

Frontside Lipslide

Frontside Lipslide

Did you call the gasman after that?
I brought it back to Home Depot and said the PG&E dude said it was faulty like the first one. Luckily, I talked to some lady on the phone returning it and just played dumb-ass and got a new one and didn’t really fuck around at all. I did it exactly how you’re supposed to do it. I was a little bit shocked that I almost blew myself up, so I was really cautious. I was kind of just fucking around before not thinking that was really that gnarly.

If gas and fire are involved, things can go wrong easily.
Yeah, really quickly, too. But I installed that fucker. It felt good. Like finishing your homework on time the day it’s due.

At what point did you realize you could afford a big purchase like a house?
I didn’t even think it was possible during the time it came up, but I think my mom told me about it, how the mortgage rates are the lowest they’ve been in history or however long. I think just the fact that they were giving tax rebates was a big factor. I kind of fucked up with the IRS a while back and I’m almost caught up now paying them off, but that helps. That was like a five grand tax rebate, so I just chopped off five grand what I owed them. Just talking to the mortgage dude, he was lining up numbers and asking for pay stubs and all this crap and he was just like, “This is what you can afford; this is the max and this is the minimum,” and all that stuff. It was kind of scary because I felt like I was just being told what to do and I didn’t really know if I was able to do it or not.

Like signing your life away.
Totally, then I’m looking at these houses and it’s like, “Oh, this one is $550,000.” I’m like, “$550,000?” are you kidding me? You’re throwing out numbers and telling me to make offers, jump on this, do this. It’s crazy. Getting a car wasn’t even that huge. Getting a car is gnarly, too, but a 30-year fixed mortage—which is what I got—I’m just like 30 years? What am I even gonna look like in 30 years? I don’t like thinking that far ahead.

Was that a goal or was it just something that kind of became an option?
I kind of just fell into it. Obviously, when you’re growing up and trying to sort your life out thinking, All right, I got to do this, this and this to become a normal human being or whatever. So you think, yeah, I want a house when I grow up. I want a car, a kid, whatever, a wife, whatever your whole dream is. I didn’t necessarily think I would have this or that by such and such a time. I was kind of cruising. All of a sudden it was like, hey, you should buy a house; the time is good.

You and your mom lived out of a car for a while as a kid, right?
Yeah, I think it was during high school, eighth or ninth grade maybe. I don’t really recall everything that led up to it, but we pretty much just lost our house and my mom was trying to figure out where we were going to live. She came up with an idea that we were going to move to this placed called Arroyo Grande outside of San Luis Obispo, so the plan was just to bring all our stuff to storage. All the shit we owned was packed into an ice cream truck that my mom owned that she would fill full of shit and go peddle or whatever she was doing at the time. We ended up packing up all our stuff into storage, then parking the ice cream truck at the skatepark while my mom and my stepdad were trying to find a house or whatever they were doing. I don’t know what was going on. I was so young it didn’t really hit me. I was just kind of skating the skatepark and thinking shit was all going to work out, but now that I’m a grown-up and I look back, they probably had no clue what they were doing, no idea what was coming next. They had issues to deal with to even get past any of the crap that was going on. Me and my sister just looked at it like it was an adventure or something; I wasn’t quite aware. I knew what was going on, but I didn’t know how crucial of mistakes and decision-making was going on by the adults at the time.

What would you have said had someone told you back then that one day skateboarding would put you in a place where you could own a home and you’d be able to take care of your mom?
I don’t know, man. There was a point where a homeboy that I met at the skatepark was like, “Yo, come skating with me today.” I wasn’t in school or anything. I was just floating, so I was like, “OK,” and he bought me some shit at Jack in the Box and I remember not eating one of the sandwiches and saving it for my mom. So if someone told me then what the hell my life would be looking like right now, I probably would have told him to fucking jump off a bridge, like quit fucking with me, man. I have no idea. That’s really a good question. I’ll probably think about that a lot after this interview. I’m all tripped out because of that.

Is your home in San Jose?
Yeah, that was one of the requirements of buying a house was making sure it was in San Jose. I’m in an unincorporated part of San Jose, so I thought it was actually Campbell, a bordering city, so I had to double check about that.

You got the tattoo. You got to keep it within city limits.
It’s SJ, man. Not to mention Campbell just sucks, but it’s not San Jose, so I couldn’t be claiming that, as if I claim.

Frontside wallride

Frontside wallride

Does your place have a theme or nickname like how Louie’s got The Mansion?
Not really. It’s kind of quiet around here. It’s at the end of the street, so the part I live on doesn’t have an outlet, just one in, one out, so it keeps it pretty mellow. Not a lot of homies really come over here to hang out, which is fine by me, but, yeah, it’s just the house.

What’s your best memory from hanging out at The Mansion?
I’d have to say when the Finnish homies, Sami and Jani, would hang out, just kicking it with them playing Super Nintendo video games with them for eight hours straight or something. Doing that for a couple months straight with those dudes, just eating the worst snacks constantly and learning some fucked up Finnish words or whatever. That and just all the laughter and happiness that came out of that that’s still going. During that time period it seemed like everything was so happy. It could have been the fact that I was still young and I wasn’t grown-up yet and didn’t have any responsibilities. I could just go over there and get into whatever, drink some booze and party with those dudes, end up spending the night for a week straight. We were like a clubhouse, too. I mean, you could do whatever you really wanted, but there was the respect factor because it was someone else’s house, so I wasn’t going to be like shitting in a corner or doing anything like that, but it was total no-rules and fun all the time.

How old is Louie? Does anyone know for sure?
I shouldn’t even throw a number out there, should I? Thirteenish. Thirteen forever.

Are you still running the wet wipes?
Yeah, when you go to the bathroom, you definitely got to have those. I should get like a mini travel kit for the trunk in case I need to take road dumps, but the old lady hooked me up with a shart kit. It’s like a freezer bag with a roll of toilet paper and some other essentials in there. Before, it was just that I’d hopefully have something wipe-worthy in my car. But I will say the best I’ve ever used to wipe was a pair of board shorts. They’re so smooth, man. It’s nice. I left them, obviously. I’m not going to pack them in my car again after using them, but if you ever have the chance to wipe with board shorts and don’t really care about the end result of those shorts, do it.

How’d you discover this?
It was mandatory. I don’t think I had a choice. I had gnarly bubble guts when I was driving up to Sacramento a long time ago, to UC Davis. We got to the parking garage, everyone’s getting their boards out to shred, and I stand up and immediately get the cold sweats, and my decision rapidly changes to, “I have to shit right over there right now,” and I grabbed whatever in my trunk I knew I could use to wipe. I didn’t have too much thought behind it, but it turned out for the best anyway.

You gave up Red Bull, right?
Yeah, and then also I just got off the tip of those double shots in a can. I was stuck on those, but I kicked that not just because it fucked with me anxiety-wise, but Matt Eversole was telling me about how certain companies are using unborn fetal cells as sweetener. I went online and read all these threads about how it’s this really potent sweetener that you can use this miniscule amount and the tongue picks up the flavor way more.

Human fetuses?
Yeah, man, I guess it’s just from aborted babies or something.

That sounds far-fetched.
It does and I was explaining it to somebody and they were like, “Yeah right, come on!” and later that day it was bugging me out so I looked online and had to text the dude to check it out.

Is your vertigo hanging on still?
The doctor told me it’s something that I’ll probably have for the rest of my life, just with dizziness and that kind of stuff. Sleeping on my back weird or if I lay on my back on the couch an odd way, when I stand up I’ll be jacked for a solid 45 minutes. I’ll feel like I’m being hung by my ankles or like someone’s carrying me and my eyes can’t fixate on anything in front of me. If I sleep too much, it really wrecks me too.

What’s the biggest change you’ve had to make because of that?
Directly after that, I quit smoking weed because I didn’t want that to hamper my healing. Also, the whole vertigo thing fucked with my anxiety really bad, probably just because I didn’t know when I’d be better. So I changed that, changed the diet up completely, basically I had to be a completely different person for like eight months. I had to do all these crazy therapy rehab exercises where I had to retrain my balance and my hand-eye coordination. I had to stand on this thick foam pad that puts your balance off and you have to force your body to balance while tossing a ball and keeping your eyes on it. I quit drinking Red Bull, caffeine, and lowered my salt intake a lot. I took vitamins. I was seeing an acupuncturist as well as a chiropractor. When I started seeing a big change, I followed through with a lot of it. I’m still going to the chiropractor and taking vitamins and cutting out a lot of caffeine and all that stuff. Before it was six to eight Red Bulls a day, and now it’s no Red Bulls and maybe a cup of coffee in the morning instead. For the most part, it’s just the little lifestyle changes that help the most. I also don’t go out and get completely shitfaced on a regular basis.

How did you get the boot from a rollerblader?
Me and a couple homeboys went up to Oakland, and we were skating this spot that I’ve never been to. It was kind of like a plaza-type spot in the middle of Oakland; it was totally hood. There were chicken bones all over the place, like people just go there with their chicken and grub. There were 40 bottles left there still next to the chicken bones. It was a weekday, so there was no one really there, just some kids with their dads. After kicking it there for probably two hours, we started picking up and some rollerblader dudes came by, probably six or so, and they were kind of kooky dudes. One was eating a banana while doing a grind. God knows what the name of the trick was. We laughed, but there were no confrontations. They weren’t hating on us and we weren’t hating on them. Then, out of nowhere, this fucking Hulk of a dude—he must have been from somewhere in the Caribbean; he had a crazy accent—he rolls up and one of his eyes is fully grayed over. He looked like maybe he took a stab wound to the eye, so immediately we were like, “Whoa, this dude is gnarly.” He comes over and he’s like, “I’m going to tell you this right now. You fucking skateboarders can come here and do boardslides, but I don’t want to see your trucks grinding on the ledge.” We’re just like, OK, whatever, and he goes on ranting while we’re just siting around laughing still. He waxes up the ledges that were already super slick, and he was really worried that we were chipping up the ledges. One of our homies goes and does a noseslide next to him, and he fucking loses it. I guess it was because it wasn’t a boardslide. I don’t know what his deal was, but he’s like, “I’m having a fucking bad day, man! On any other day we’d be homies, but it took us three weeks to wax these ledges up,” and all this crap. He’s getting irate, getting in people’s faces, and he’s like, “Just get the fuck out of here!” We were basically leaving anyway, so all our homies took off. I’m sitting there kind of collecting my crap, trying to get my skate tool and my smokes, and he’s sitting next to me and says something. I get kind of irritated and tell him it’s not just us doing this shit, bikers do too. I don’t know what he was doing, but he got so irate he was basically like a gorilla bouncing around doing all this shit. I had to pick up my board and walk away and let the situation diffuse itself. He was telling me that I’m not from Northern California. He just was throwing out the craziest remarks. I can’t even remember, but just getting kicked out of a spot by a rollerblader was so good.

How’d you meet Kurt Russell?
Aw, yeah, that’s a good one too. Damn, Kurt Russell, that dude’s tight. It was an Osiris tour we were doing in Canada, and our last stop was a skate camp somewhere outside of Toronto. I think it was called Muskogee Woods or something. We do our demo there, and there’s some dudes doing ziplining and paintballing, all this stuff. We did the blob in the water where a fat dude jumps on it and launches you. Everyone was doing paintball, so me and Shuriken and Cuong, the team manager, went to a liquor store. Around there the liquor stores are totally liquor stores, just a building that only sells alcohol. We were walking around and some dude’s got two carts. I didn’t really pay attention; I was just getting my drink. Shuriken made a comment like, “Damn, dude, that guy’s going big.” He had one cart full of white wine, boxed wine, red wine, whatever you want, and the other was half alcohol and a bunch of six packs of tasty beer or whatever. I go outside and I’m sitting in the van and Shuriken’s like, “Dude, that’s fucking Kurt Russell!” I’m just like, yeah right, whatever, but we both say we have to see who this is. So we’re sitting in the parking lot waiting and he pulls his carts up to a Jeep Cherokee or something and he’s got some cargo shorts and some sun-bleached tank-top-type deal on. He’s got an overgrown beard, looking kind of hagged-out maybe hungover as fuck. Who knows what he’s doing with his Goldie Hawn? And I’m like, “Fuck, man, I got to go over there and get his autograph or something.” Someone says to get a photo with him and I’m like that’s quick. I don’t have a pen on hand or anything. So I go up and I’m like, “Can I get a picture with you?” and he’s like, “Oh…no, no I can’t do that.” So I was kind of bumming, but now that I think about it, he was probably just like, “I don’t want a picture looking all fucked up with some random dude. He’s probably going to put it on the Internet and all this crap.” I didn’t really want to put it on the Internet. I just wanted to have a photo of me and Kurt Russell. He’s fuckin’ tight. I’m like, “All right, that’s cool. I loved you in Escape from New York!” and just went back to the van. He was just like, “Thanks, man!” and took off. I just would have been genuinely stoked. I would totally hang a photo of me and Kurt Russell up in my house.

What’s been going on at Enjoi? It seems like things have been kind of quiet there for a minute.
That’s how we like it. I think we’re letting everyone lull about a little bit then come out with another vid and stoke everyone’s nads out again. Pump ’em up.

Are you going to continue the “Bag Of” motif?
I don’t know. That hasn’t really been thrown out there. We do have meetings from time to time, and it’s mostly just about what kind of direction we want to be moving, filming or anything, just minor things. It’s not to the point where we got editing in mind and we got to come up with a title. Even if it were, I wouldn’t know until way later anyway. I don’t have the memory for those kinds of things. Matt’s [Eversole, Enjoi brand manager] a clever dude. He can come up with something really awesome whereas if it were four of the riders all together, we’d probably come up with something mediocre that Matt wouldn’t like.

Does everyone on the team kind of have their own role to play, like Matt’s the brains, Jose’s the punching bag, Nestor’s the hair and Louie’s the mad scientist?
Yeah, fuck, man, I guess. You nailed it right there. I mean, it’s not like you have your appointed role and there’s a certain way you have to be, because obviously that’d be fucking weird. People do live those lives, but not any of us. It’s just who we are as people. In skateboarding, you’re allowed to let that shine sometimes. Some people let that shine a little too early and they get kicked right off the tour. I imagine it’s just the dudes feeling however they’re feeling at the time and they run it.

Frontside flip

Frontside flip

With the flow and am kids on tap, what kind of roles are left open for them?
That’s kind of what we’re leaving, the fill-in-the-blanks for those dudes, you know what I mean? Evs wants people who are fairly original or true to themselves and all that crap. That’s pretty important. The younger dudes, they’ll have their time to shine, and when it is we’ll probably notice that and pick up with that and roll with that. We got Ryan Lay and he’s tall and skinny. I’ve only been around him once, but he’s got some pop for sure. Maybe that could be part of his character, who knows. Oh Zach, too; Zach ollies like a bastard!

How did you almost blow Nestor’s surprise pro announcement?
I’m terrible with emails and staying in the loop and all that crap. I got super pumped someone was sending out emails. Nestor might have been CC’d or BC’d or one of those where you’re attached. I just looked at who it was from and who it was to, so I was just like, “Oh shit, Nestor’s going pro? Fuckin’ tight!” and Matt wrote back really quick telling me that I’d basically just told him. I guess because Nestor’s kind of aloof he didn’t really pick up on it, so it was good. It was just me being a bonehead, not really knowing how to work technology, trying to have a conversation in an email form.

What’s the story with the intro photo of you when you were super young with the rattail?
That might have been my first Volcom box or something. I think I maybe got my pads on. I know I definitely just took my helmet off because my hair was all ratty and I had long hair at the time, so it poofed it up and made it look all crazy. I think I was eight. I imagine it was right after the skatepark session, getting all pumped. Had a new T-shirt. It was a size large and I was probably three-foot-five, so the thing went past my knees.

Rocking the ghetto gown.
You know, you’re a kid; you don’t give a fuck. You’re so stoked. It’s like, brand-new shirt? Fuck yeah! This is sick!

If you were on at eight, that means you’ve been on Volcom for 20 years.
Yeah, man. It must’ve been around ’90 or ’91, so, yeah, as far as I know I’ve got the longest standing in the roster, longest team rider.

Is that a nod to Cab as an early mentor, sticking with a company for 20 years?
It’s not like it was something that I thought about happening. It’s just the brand itself and everybody there; it’s so cool. It’s been perfect to where even if I didn’t ride for them I wouldn’t know who the fuck I would ride for. Everybody there is so fucking awesome and they took care of me, obviously, for 20 years.

Was it odd being the little kid on trips?
I don’t even know how that worked. I don’t know when I fully got on or went from grom to am rider or whatever. Maybe it just went smoothly, but I don’t know. Of course, being a young dude with a bunch of older guys is…. It’s not weird; it’s cool.

You didn’t get hassled?
I’m sure I probably did but I think for the most part I didn’t get immediately picked on in the van by everybody. I wouldn’t be the whipping boy or something. I’ve definitely been worded up by pros along the years about certain things I did or something. I’ve been told, “Shut the fuck up; you’re annoying.” But it’s just, like, OK, cool. That’s a tip from the pros right there, boy. Conduct yourself appropriately.

Did it weird you out at all when Remy named his kid after you?
Not really. I thought it was fucking sweet. I’m not going to say it was because of me; it’s just the name itself. If you like the name, that’s cool, too. I’m honored either way just to know there’s another Caswell out there because as far as I know, I’ve only seen a dude playing basketball with the last name Caswell and I’ve seen a Caswell State Park sign, but I’ve never run into anyone else named Caswell. I actually got to kick it with little Caswell about a month ago. I was staying at Remy’s house. Just seeing this little dude was fucking awesome. Him and his family, obviously they call him by his name so when we’re at dinner or whatever and I hear the name I jump. And they’re like, “No, little Caswell.” Like, yeah, there are two of us.

There is another.
That’s never ever happened to me in my life. The confusion was kind of fun.

Are you honorary godfather?
That requires a lot of responsibility. If you’re a godfather, you have to take the kid if anything happens to the family, right? I’m sure they got some people lined up, but I could probably pull it later on in life if need be.

Do you know where the name comes from?
I think it’s an Irish name. It was my grandpa’s last name. So, yeah, if my mom had never gotten married and named me Caswell, I’d be Caswell Caswell. That’d be kind of fucked.

I’ve been told we look a lot alike. Do you ever get tired of being mistaken for me?
No way, that’s tight, man.

Just appreciating the shout-outs and perks as they come.
Hell yeah.

Do you find it as hard as I do being as good-looking as we are?
Oh yeah, definitely. You get no chicks looking at you, and sometimes you’ll say, “Hi,” and you don’t even get a “hi” back; you just get a weird dirty look. That’s the kind of shit we deal with.

Are you also like me in that you’re unable to grow real facial hair and just get these little shitty patches?
Totally. Yeah, as far as my moustache goes, it’s just wispy and won’t connect to my beardage underneath my chin, that’s for sure. Right now, I basically just run the beard trimmers because I get wicked ingrown hairs all gnarly. But, yeah, it was definitely thicker on the left side of my, I guess I would call it a chop if it were thick enough to be a chop. Let’s see here. There’s a patch on the ole chin here, a lot of skin showing almost connecting to my sideburns. It’s nonexistent, but I like to pretend I can grow full facial hair. In my head, it’s a buff beard, but when people see it they’re like, “Holy rat!”

We just got the natural white trash look.
Totally and all my homies who do have beards are just like, “You’re fucking lucky man. You’re stoked.” I’m like, “No, I’m not. I want something awesome like what you got!” But, whatever, what is that? The foresight, the hindsight? Hindsight is 20/20 or whatever. Grass is always greener.

Do you think your look is what drew that homeless guy to ask you for a ride?
That was a really random thing. For a while I was drinking those double shots, so I’d have to go out every morning to go get them from the store. I’d drive to a gas station that was close by where I could walk my dog. Some homeless guy, I think his name was Corey, but I didn’t learn that till later, he was sitting there looking all thrashed as fuck on the ground, smoking cigs. He probably had four or five cigarettes put out in front of him. He had a Budweiser Clamato and it was like 8:30 in the morning. I tried to walk by him and immediately he was just like, “Hey! Do you think you could sing in front of a crowd of thousands of people?” I’m like, “I don’t think so.” And he’s like, “I didn’t think you could. I could do it. I want to sing you this song. Just give me five minutes.” I figured, whatever, I’ll smoke a cigarette, let my dog sniff around and listen to him talk for five minutes.
He’s talking and gets into all kinds of shit, getting woken up all night because he’s got these jewelry pieces that you’d find at the dollar store or something. I guess he was saying all these women and bums were waking him up all night so they could take pieces of his jewelry. He had this radio that was solar/wind-up and handed it to me and told me to wind it up for the five minutes he’s talking. I have a really bad time just saying no to shit. I didn’t have anything going on, so I think, fuck it, I’ll hang out with this dude and see what he’s got.
Somehow he ends up letting me know he lives in Los Gatos, the next city over from San Jose on the side of town I was on. Somehow he ended up asking for a ride and I’m like, “All right, I’ll give you a ride.” Keep in mind I had just left the house to go get coffee, probably smoke a cigarette and walk my dog. My girlfriend’s at home; no one knows what the fuck I’m doing. I could get abducted by this dude. As I’m driving, this dude in my car is telling me all these crazy things about murderers like John Wayne Gasey and all this stuff. He was like, “One time, I was picked up and the driver grabbed my balls and was SQUEEZIN!” He was telling me this story about how the dude was wrenching his balls and I was afraid that somehow he was going to reach over and start wrenching my balls uncontrollably and make me crash my car. You know, nothing happened. It only took 10 minutes and I picked up this roach I had in my ash try and he was so pumped. “Oh man! Can I smoke that?” And I’m like, “Oh fuck, yeah, whatever.” After that, he started looking through my ashtray and claims some more and put them in his pocket, like all the roaches or whatever.
We get to Walgreens because he’s got to buy cigarettes there because they’re cheaper for some reason and we end up running into two of his homies. They’re chopping it up, going crazy and he comes over and says, “We’re gonna give these guys a ride to my house too.” At this point I got three bums in my car and I’m driving through Los Gatos, which is this really rich, white town and it’s such an awkward scene. We’re going downtown, down this main street and all of a sudden one of his bums yells, “Stop! Stop the car, I gotta get out!” and gets out and he fucking finds two dollars on the ground while I’m keeping traffic waiting. Dude had an eagle eye. He grabs the two bucks, and we’re driving and we see this ratty looking bum on the side and Corey, the original bum I met, goes, “Yeah, that guy right there, he’ll do anything for weed man. Pull over.” He gets out and starts talking to the dude and offers him one of the roaches he found in my ashtray. And that guy gets in my car. So I’m stocked to the brim of my car. I got a two-seater of bums and my dog as well.
We finally get to his crib, his pad, or his place where he calls home and we have to hike down this little pathway on the side of the freeway and I’m trying to figure out how to make my exit because it’s been probably an hour and a half, close to two hours fucking around with this dude. He really wanted to show me some of his pieces, like his collection of art that he’d painted. He had some art on Plexiglass. It was really sick, though, to tell you the truth. The dude was really cool now that I’m looking back and nothing weird happened or nothing sketchy. I want to go back and check up on him and give him some socks and shit. I mean, he looked fucked up, but he turned out to be a really cool dude and he gave me a piece of his jewelry and I gave that to my chick and she actually does wear it on her necklace. It’s pretty cool. Just one of those things that happened where I feel like I can’t say no. I don’t know. I guess I’m too nice. My girlfriend says I’m too nice all the time. Whatever.

At any point when you had a car full of bums did you worry that they would soup kitchen your car?
What’s that?

It’s a term when homeless people use a car, usually abandoned, to house an orgy.
Oh! Holy shit, no. I obviously wasn’t even aware of that. I don’t see why there’d be a difference between an operating vehicle and a non-operating vehicle in those terms. That’s pretty scary, man. They could have easily done something. It was three to one there. I wasn’t worried about that at all, but now that I know the term, definitely worried. Gonna have to think twice about doing that again.

Long gap to 5050

Long gap to 5050