In the latest installment of ASYMNK (Amazing Skaters You May Not Know) we have Dug (née Doug) Moore.
Once co-owner of ZT Maximus, now front man for Defcon 4.
Unless you are from New England or had the pleasure of traveling to arguably one of the greatest skateparks of all time, then you probably don't know of this man.
Attleboro pool. Eastern Hardcore.
I love you, Arlen Specter.
Now all we gotta do is let Coleman and his GOP cohorts tire themselves out in the Supreme Court system, get Franken seated, and we got 60! ¿Cómo estás, beaches?!
Every once in a while somebody busts out something you always wanted to do but never did, cause you are lazy, and they are not.
But rather than hate, you're stoked and have to get it.
Patty H. like a motherfucker.
Slice those sleeves at the forearm Rocky Balboa style, and this shit ain't comin' off no matter how hot it gets up in this beach. Summer look?
As previously stated, I was always more of a KSN than a WCA person, more of a Rise fan than a Risk fan, but credit must be given where credit is due. Some burners are especially sick when you saw it run in person, and some don't translate as well in photograph.
A splinter, one-off sort of crew that Risk and Slick did for a minute - but shit, that was a good minute.
Black Karate Federation.
Need I say more?
I had this setup, minus the magnesium trackers, copers, and nose guard. These look like mini-cubics, but the era would suggest rat bones. In any case, one of my favorite decks of all time. Most skaters are superstitious on some level, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I was and am still absolutely certain that this board gave me more pop than I ever had before. I distinctly remember doing some of my best skating on it. Now if I could just find the late 90's equivalent, my prized Ricky Oyola, Zoo York kit with the slick bottom and heavy paint. Damn. Lost loves.
I generally hate it when people dress their kids in "vintage" rock tees, ironic t-shirts, or anything "edgy". But this shirt is a real deal hand-me-down from Duane Peters, to Michael Barragan (Evil Spirit Engineering), and on to me. Something about my dude's first black eye, the Duane Peters anarchy tank, and the fuckin' gun show goin on....it nearly brings tears to these old eyes.
Mid 80's New Edition. Bobby with a side part Bullet (Black Mullet), Ronnie in a weirdo mock neck button up, Ricky in what I'm assuming is a Guess patchwork denim/leather number, Biv giving you blue steel, and Ralph ruling in blue leather like a 17 year old post-Delirious fuck machine. I especially like the edges of the photo, you can tell girlie girl loved her this picture when it was resting up on her dresser. This cardboard frame once housed her junior high school diploma, but she said fuck that and put in a shot of the greatest boy band of all time.
This is not airbrushed, this is not an optical illusion - that is a stump.
This is your worst alimony nightmare, and my sexual fantasy.
Quentin Tarantino is an oft-quoted screenwriter who I would under normal circumstances, NEVER quote, but in the words of Mia Wallace, "I say, God damn!".
I cannot remember a time I wanted a pair of shoes more.
Never mind the fact that they are probably going to look like ass on me unless I am wearing just the right pair of jeans, not too pegged, not too wide at the bottom, to fold or not to fold?
There's just so many variables that they'll probably just sit by the door and become a play toy for my son, but we all need a dream.
So drop them already, Gravis, I'm ready, and so are 11 other dudes, one of them is the singer in the Virgins, and the rest are boys who think Dylan Reider is a girl, apart from that, only chicks are gonna buy em, all it'll take is a mention in Nylon and they're in UO faster than you can say "Cheap Monday".