Every day is Sunday, my friend...

Go to sleep, wake up, yo, it's Sunday again!
I wish.
If only it were actually true.
Then there would be endless football highlights and new episodes of The Wire on television every night when I got home.
That and every single day would be another spontaneous skate mission to wherever you felt like hitting up.


This past Sunday started off with a bang. I knew I was in for a great all-around day when I sighted my dear old friend SOLE HULK.


SOLE HULK is the white whale of local pickup truck airbrush jobs. While many have heard the telling of his legend, only a few are blessed enough to actually catch a glipse of this truly awe-inspiring creature and can only imagine what it's like to actually encounter him in the wild.


Me, I don't have to wonder. I tracked the beast to his lair and I can lay eyes upon him any time I please. I could have ended the day right there and gone home happy.


Instead, I started the day off where every Sunday usually kicks off, APBizzles. These dudes were getting an early start on some Pho'king lunch.


Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it.


We keep it gully with the back alley slappy warmups.


This piece of shit across the street isn't going anywhere soon.


But we're going up there!


There's definitely some shit to skate down there.


And we've pretty much hit all of it before.


But we can't seem to get enough of this place.


First APB video filmed Big Daddy Chane's intro right here at this very spot. Where you dwell at?


Meanwhile, back on the ground floor there's a spot we need to hit up around the corner.


Kyle bumped up to backside lipslide with accessories in hand. He didn't land this but I'm feeling this photo, and who fucking cares anyway?


My fucking board almost went in the water! More on that later. For now, Segueway to the next spot.


Jamie met us down the block and tried to figure out some camera angles for Kenneth's manual thing, but I stepped up with my own digi footage. Again, later for that.


We're down with the king.


New shit in downtown. Hit it up quick before it gets skate hated.


Too late. This shit got skate hated on the moment it was drawn up in blueprints.


The Colonel gettin' stunted again with the accessories still in hand. Nothing phases this guy's concentration, not even an iron leg.


Shit's epic today!


Soooo fuckin' epic, bro!


Move on to the St. Louis spot. The Blaze has a little bag of tricks up there, I'll show you later.


Jamie is pretty proficient in transition type situations. Pivot fakie? Maybe. You're gonna have to wait 'til the end to find out.


She ate some pretty harsh shit along the way, but trust me, look at that smile. This is one tough bitch! Hahahahaha one time me and Jamie were playing a game of flatground SKATE and we were all tied up at "T". It was her turn and she fired off a nollie 360 flip like it was the most natural thing ever. I was devastated. In the shock and despair of seeing this, and knowing that I've never landed one in my life and most certainly wasn't about to, I looked over at her and half shouted "YOU FUCKING BITCH." Me? I enjoy telling this story almost as much as she does. Shit's hilarious, right? I can only say that kind of shit because we love each other. You? I wouldn't recommend trying it yourself, unless you're the kind of person that likes getting knuckled up by a chick. And by that I mean beat the fuck up.


Back to our lovely day. Injury timeout for The Colonel.


The Kobe Bryant ball makes another appearance. Someone has a wicked hook shot. Find out later.


Over to Kenny's, there he showed me this photo he has of him and Duane Peters. I'm not quite sure which one is the Master Of Disaster but it's really, really close.


Teleported to this magic place over the mountain. Something's happening here soon!


Knew this guy was involved in this scheme somehow. He had vague details and his speech was slurred. Fucking pile.


In between beer burps he managed to say that it was some James Bond, need-to-know-basis type of shit.


And you don't need to know.


Unless this guy says you need to know. Shit, my life is in danger now. I shouldn't even be discussing this. Erase this from your memory banks. These pictures will self-destruct in five seconds.


Congratulations for making it to the end of the photographic portion of this piece of bliggety blog shit.
The video portion is not cooperating right now, and is fucking with my uploads.
Maybe next time you'll get to see all the awesome footage, which is spine-tingling, I assure you.
Bye!

Kapolei Krew

A few weekend warriors head out to Kapolei well, every weekend. Bo is usually there with us. We hope to see him back ripping shortly. On this day we skated for Bo.

Bruiser. A new type of Madonna.

A classic Madonna.

Masa is from Japan and comes to Hawaii like 10 times a year. Layback.

Wade Brusin a tailslide.

Fingerflip lein to tail.

Davis with a sweeper.

Wade M. Keyhole grind.

Bruiser backside air.

Grant carve grind.

Frontside air.

Inverted.

Classic G-Dog style.

Island Mike rips.

This might look like a frontside air, but it's actually mid boneless.

Island rock.

Laidback.

Any Given Sunday.

Sunday is by far the best day of the week, especially during football season, even better during the playoffs. I'm glad I'm not as into it as I used to be. Back in the day, dudes would call me up to go skating on Sundays and I wouldn't want to go anywhere because football was on. Can you imagine such buffoonery? These days I'm all about the Sunday missions, you never know where the day may take you and you never know who will make an appearance. This past Sunday was mean, bully!


Met up at APB, peeped the new computer steez.


This collabo shirt is loc'ed the fuck out, braddah!


Best old/new graphic ever.


First Sunday in about a month with sunshine, get on that shit!


There's this place up the road from my apartment, we should session there, I heard you never get kicked out.


There's a crazy kinked hubba up there. John jumped on it.


I guess Kyle wasn't feeling the all-over Goofy print so much anymore. Custom shit might be worth more anyway. One of one.


These chicks are in some geek shit like the fucking accounting club. I'd love to discuss rollovers and nest eggs with the one in the black.


Never mind that shit. Change the fucking security guards, we're outta here.


The Colonel started to climb towards the roof of the Varsity Theater, but ultimately decided against it. Now we'll never get to skate that perfect pyramid hip up there.


Dude sparked off the flatbar sesh instead.


Chadwick.


Leonardo Blazini.


D.D. Esquire III.


Reticent Johnny.


The posse crept to double digits at Old Stadium Park in Mo'Illz.


Why was The Colonel taping off Grant's car near the Blaisdell?


Technical difficulties. We're outta here.


Chad and John were excited to revisit this not-so secret spot.


I mean this place isn't exactly on the down low anymore, is it?


It's been on national television, for Christ's sake!


See? Not exactly a secret anymore.


Johnny gets a grip and goes to fakes.


Wait a minute, you're not...are you?


Oh, yeah. He is.


See? Hey, at least he fucking tried it. YOU go and do it then.


The Colonel contemplates his line.


If you can't figure out where this place is by now, forget it. You're officially stupid.


Johnny nearly backside ollied the window. Be my guest.


Chad pivots while his team slave sweeps up.


I tried to get Chad to recreate the magic of this shot that Noodles took a while back.


Needless to say, it didn't quite work.


But this is how I really dooze it.


John was trying grinds on top of the window. Fucking nutty, I tell ya.


Posers!


Hold up, this shit looks kind of promising.


Stupid joggger! You fucked up my postcard moment.


Two bros got BGP's in Johnny's frontside bluntslide transfer pic.


Kyle ollied over to backside tailslide with his freshly painted kicks.


Guess which one I am.