Shredding Damnhattan


People here call Manhattan “The City”, as if they’re complete ignoramuses who don’t know five boroughs comprise NYC. Because I have half a brain and the luxury of living and working in Brooklyn, I only go to Manhattan to skate.


Skate graffiti is usually gay, but this is the exception to the rule.


Heading from Brooklyn along the Williamsburg Bridge, hang the first right at Delancy and shove down the green bike lane. 12th & A is over there somewhere yonder.


narrowCareful. Drivers don’t give a fuck about us cyclists.

east-villageIt’s a good idea to look over your shoulder when traffic is thick and you’re going down a one-way.

oopsOops! When you’re skitching you  gotta watch out for all these Manhattan assholes trying to pull you under their Escalade.

rastaBy hopping off my board to avoid my legs getting pinched off, I was given the opportunity to snap a pic of their decidedly Rastafarian hydrant. He told me, “Heyyy, don’t worry about it. Be ha-ppy!” Well you know what, Mr. Hydrant, I think your hippie advice is childish and simplistic. I will worry about it until I can find safety again in my surroundings.


The Back 40 is the lot of land below my parents’ farm. I used to hop on our John Deere tractor and mow that shit out of that stretch of earth. I looked into the window, however, and the food on the plates was far from the Iowa chops, rice and peas I ate by my Back 40. People in Manhattan are retarded.

omenI had to go back home to Brooklyn to put my trip to Manhattan into perspective.


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