A Line and a Word: Episode 3

Ron Cleveland finally came out of the bathroom to share a word and perform a trick skateboarding maneuver.

Just realized I never posted the first two episodes. So featuring Mr. Nice Guy and ELM Man, here they are:

Happy Gal-entines day!

Photo Phridays #2: Monday...?

Meet Captain Art and Crave: "The most dangerous combination since nitro and glycerine."

Taken with my Chocolate 2. What the heck's a instagram?

In this episode, Art models his boot-cuts while Crave jams his board in his favorite pair of parachute pants. You might be able to spot this dynamic duo playing with a dog somewhere in the Humboldt County woods or sharing the seat of a crotch-rocket speeding in and around the vineyards. Or maybe just take a journey up to Angwin and knock on the gates of the infamous Cole Township.

The bond between these two runs deep. For example, just after Crave punked Art's board, the two discussed "not being able to wait" for the new Ghost Rider movie to come out, making them the only two people in the country to have such feelings. Here's another Chocolate 2 pic of Crave getting lifted:

Stay tuned. Rumor has it a "Line and a Word with Ron Cleveland" might be in the mix.

Lone Valkyrie

Despite my full-fledgéd support of scientology, and the fact that Tom Cruise may or may not have been responsible for my first man-induced pants tent (during my first viewing of Top Gun through the bars of my crib), this post has absolutely nothing to do with Maverick or his movie about the botched assassination attempt on Hitler. Plus, the eyepatch wasn't even that sexy.

The Valkyrie I'm referring to is much more attractive.

Photo courtesy of Claiborne Swanson Frank

Currently residing in Portlandia, but hailing from the mountaintop hood we all know so well, Angwin, California, the Lone Valkyrie has just released her first LP on itunes. I've known her all my life and she was most likely babysitting me during that first viewing of Top Gun. She's a smooth operator on the microphone and plays the git-fiddle pretty darn well, too.

So stop getting all your music off of youtube and support a Napa Valley local. Here's a video of her and Jaime Jones, shot in Angwin by my sister.

Ladies and gentlemen, Lone Valkyrie:

For more Lone Valkyrie, and some Langhorne Slim, check out all of mamapratt's videos.

Porch

Just found a "flash-fiction" I wrote a few years ago:

The porch looked awful. The paint flaked to the ground like dead skin. Their red cups gave off a dull glow in the overcast light. They were playing ping-pong, or something. There was shit in the corner. It most likely belonged to the dog, Rufus.

Rufus had been eyeing the open Doritos bag on the steps all night. They better not let him eat any of it. Then he will just shit more. He imagined the porch covered in his powdery orange shit. It might be a nice touch. The ball bounced.

There were holes in the floorboards. Cigarette butts smoldered in them. The malt liquor bottle on the table was already full of butts. It was smoking, too. No, bottle, that’s a bad habit!

Rufus shook a smirking, fat fraternity brother’s hand and then laid down to stare at the Doritos some more. He didn’t like his owners. He imagined filling the holes with his fluorescent feces. A bulimic girl stepped on his tail while dancing. He wanted to shit on her.

Unemployment Blues

In the midst of the overwhelming underwhelm of unemployment these last couple months, I've succumbed to sitting in different places around my house (the table, the floor, the toilet, etc.) with a guitar in hand, writing songs about cannibalism... among other things. But more important than making music, is coming up with a cool band name. Right?

At first, I was just going to stick with the name of mine and Mr. O'Boyle's acoustic-metal-band-that-never-existed, Axe in a Cleavage P****. But, of course, that's much too vulgar for a yuppie white beta-male like myself. Plus, Dave had to ditch that name on X-Box live years ago (only to switch from axeinaclvgpssy to axeinjugalodix... win!).

I then thought of using the name of mine and Crashtian's band-that-sort-of-did-but-never-really-existed, Ric Sorensen and the Heavy Metal Redemption. But because that band WILL one day be playing sold-out shows at the 1st Bank Center for the arts in Broomfield, Colorado (hopefully opening for Death Cab for Cutie or Coldplay or some cool shit like that), I didn't want to confuse potential RSatHMR fans with a solo project. Ya dig?

So I shuffled between names like Dead Horse's Head Heaven (courtesy of cousin Ben 10 years ago), Nic Pancho and Kick-Dumb (courtesy of Cooper yesterday), Barcelona Pigeon Massacre, White Boy Plays Music for Dogs (or White Boy Dog Music), Hell's Kitchen's Oven (because that's hot... courtesy of Rudy), Dead Things, Shave My Stache' and the Hound Dog that Never Died, Nicolas Rage Cage, and a long list of others.

But when I finally settled on one I liked, Red Whale, I typed it into Google to see if anyone had it already. This is what happened:

Well at least they're good........ ?

This post is dedicated to Andy Dwyer of Mouse Rat.

Photo Phridays

Taken by Meaghan. Doctored by Tan Legs on Microsoft Paint. Done on the toilet.

The F1nal Front1er with Christian McDreamy

A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to get on up to Alaska to sleep with my good friend, Chris Lende (pronounced "lend"). Chris is originally from the last frontier and, in case you haven't seen him in awhile, he's finally shed his baby fat:

"Yeah I work at a lumberyard." - C.S. Lende

And although the picture below shows otherwise, he's also not afraid to show off his newly acquired bod. Each morning Chris managed to wake me with a smooth shirtless serenade (usually an original song he had wrote about me in his dreams):

But enough about ol' Chris. He doesn't need this much attention on a blog, considering how many chicks are into him. Let's talk about AK.

They have an awesomely lacklustre supply of maria:

Even so, Chris was a little shy to display his patronage of said maria:

Crashtian gets sketchy on some coping at Juneau Skatepark. What's he doing over there? Evil things, child.

Whoops, I'm back on Christian. He's just too good looking.

Well... I stood on porches:

And accidentally took videos outside of the bar at 4:20 in the morning:

Believe it or not, folks, there IS NO last call in the 49th state. Get up there.

And I purposely took videos of this guy. Goes by the name of Kid Burfle:

A few seconds only showcase a fraction of the epicness of this man. The weirdness of his name, Kid Burfle, and the even weirderness of his character inspired me to concoct an all-star team of dudes from Haines, Alaska.

Kid Burfle's the only one who managed to get some screen time, but each member of the All Stars were magnificent in their own way.

Adrian, another member of the squad, had a shirt with the word "Abstinent" scribbled on the front. Sure enough, when he turned around, he had sharpied his phone number on the back. Brilliant? Pienso que si.

"Hey Crash, who's the stash?"

But this has been one of HELLAMARIA's longer pieces, so I'm just going to sum up the rest of what we did in AK the old fashioned way:

fish carcasses!, sprained wrists, pretending to be on extremely hard drugs and getting stoked about it, witnessing Michael T. (another all star) get seriously amped up, crunchy banjo'd jams, shirtless hippies grinding on hairy hot canadian femalia (we were with 'em too... well Chris was?), bears from a distance, PBR, co-ed softball, bomb fried halibut, Christian smoking home runs, Christian and sometimes even the PhD smoking other things (king salmon, daniel kweed, each other occasionally), beached back yards, crashing bikes, 3 hours of darkness, dub-stepping to DJ Presha (?), bear meat bolognese and noodles, ferries, fairies, 40 yards out of rough chip-ins, and disturbingly psychadelic puppet shows:

Yes. That's a giant top-hatted Satan parading about with a bearded man in a dress.

But, if there's any chance you're still reading, I'm sure I know why. It's because you were wondering if perhaps there WAS a video of TCZ skateboarding in Alaska.

Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but... yes there is. You know my skill level, but enjoy tranny-dog Crashtian and his P-Rod inspired headphoned homie, Nels, ripping pure Alaskan indoor terrain.

And if you're not too offended by the song, go find it. "Psycho" by Jack Kittel.

Terminally Chill in AKSALA from Dr. Tan Legs on Vimeo.