Volume 21 Number 8
file: Ortiz Australia
Eating Neck, Snorting Lard, And Puddles Of Cotton
The Tim does Ahh ’stralia.
Story by Tim O’Connor
Photos by Chris Ortiz
Yeeeup! It’s me again! Whoop-dee-doo! It’s time once again to read about that handsome hunk Tim Ohhh’Connor and his exhilarating adventures here on our beloved Mother Earth.
This time around we find me in exotic Australia for another glorious Quiksilver outing. The makers of this fine clothing made me go down there with the likes of Stefan Janoski, Reese Forbes, Donny Barley, Dylan Reider, Matt Allen, Mark Oblow, Chris “The Man Who Loves Snacks” Ortiz, and videographer Vern “Bryant Gumble” Laird.
The flight to Australia sucks the pus out of genital warts, and I’d rather get kicked in the balls by Pele than make that flight again. But it’s all well worth it once you get there. Especially when you arrive on Valentine’s Day, like we did. On this day, the Prime Minister of Australia sent out his finest scantily clad virgin female citizens to administer jet-lag-relieving massages to our weary bodies as a gift in exchange for us blessing their land with our exalted presence. Especially me!
It’s truly summer as hell at this time of year in Sydney and sweat was squirting with oomph out of every hole in my hard-ass body. We tried desperately to skate for a bit on that first day, but everyone sucked ’cause we’d just gotten off a fifteen-hour flight for Christ’s sake! It was so hot that while I was trying to skate, my outfit melted off of my physique into a puddle of cotton at my feet. I was left completely nude with just my underwear band still on.
The next day the two kids who came with us, Dylan and Matt, woke up before the rest of us went to sleep. They were skating thirteen-stair handrails in the a.m. and smiling while in mid-Smith grind situations. The rest of us woke up later and warmed our bone marrow up by doing wallies on everything that was something. Reese had some sort of fresh cut on his hand, so he went out skating with what appeared to be either a “hammer” glove or a Nintendo Power Glove. I’d rather catch crazy Australian diseases from falling on still-wet-with-piss cement directly on to my open wounds than skate with a glove. For some reason Reese can pull off these fruity little outfits, so I kept the verbal abuse to a minimum even though he looked like he might be using his skateboard strictly as transportation to get himself to the batting cages. Li’l Matt Allen did something this day on a rail while I was horkin’ down some bacon and snorting lard. That’s about all that took place this day, though, ’cause the jet lag was still in heavy rotation at this point, and it put us into comas shortly thereafter.
Antiwar marches were going on all over the place the next morning, and all that peaceful foot traffic everywhere made it impossible to skate downtown. Plus, I was angry they wanted to stop war because without war we wouldn’t have such splendid things like camouflage, Apocalypse Now, and napalm. Just kidding!
We broke out of that region and shot ourselves out of town to a park called Vert X for five minutes so Stefan could fall and hurt his patella. We had to bail right afterward to rush Donny to another park close by so he could fall on his back twice in a painful row. Donny broke his epidermis and started spewing blood out of his not really gaping wounds. Oblow was sure that some larva had crawled up into the open lesions, so he gave Donny a heterosexual love rub on his tattered back to extract the bad and rub in the good.
This day basically sucked ’cause right after this mayhem it started to rain, so we bounced back to the hotel. Upon our return to the hotel a couple ofs went into the hotel’s steam room where I filled the steam supply area up with beer. So, instead of H20 steam, we were breathing beer in the gas form until we got intoxicated and yakked on one another’s feet. Those were the days.
We arose out of our beds after the following sunrise to see that it was raining water all over the place. Because of this inclement weather we went to see Bowling For Columbine. Yeaaah! If you see Charleton Heston, spin-kick him in his old shriveled face for me. Thank you.
All I can remember from our next day is not too much. All I really remember is doing manuals on some stairs for about seventeen hours straight. When we were done with the manual mission, we went back near the hotel where we found Stefan drunk and lying in a bush. This is how he was dealing with his whole knee-injury situation.
We had to fly to Melbourne, so on the way to the airport we stopped at the same cement park where Donny had previously eaten neck. This time Donny didn’t fall on his back, and he threw some succulent airs around for a bit. Next thing I knew, we were in Melbourne checking into the hotel and meeting up with the other filmer, Josh Stewart.
Skating a polluted-water gap under some bridge for a while started off our first real day in Melbourne. Stefan warmed up with a somersault down the biggest and roughest bank the spot had to offer. He got up, shook off the slam, and headed straight for the disgusting water gap. Upon his approach, he hit a dead muskrat and skidded out for a few feet but regained his balance just in time to professionally pounce over the gap full of primordial sludge. I got all sketched out on Stefan’s slam and his almost deadly fall into the pit, so I stopped skating the spot altogether. I wanna die while naked skydiving with Rollerblades on, not while skating under some bridge in Australia.
This day also happened to be Reese’s birthday. Ortiz celebrated this great day by, I swear to god, scarfing down whole lamb brains like he was on Fear Factor or something. Dylan, Reese, and Matt ate some, too, while I ate not some of that thought organ.
Yet another day was upon us where it rained the whole day, so no skating really took place once again. But Ortiz did get beat up by some pierced girl he was taking photos of. She jumped in the cab from which he was shooting photos and started pummeling him about while he still kept trying to snap photos of the brutal female.
Because of the rain we went and saw a movie again, and Donny dropped the Risky Business shades that he’d been rockin’ into the urinal during his post-movie bladder evacuation.
We finally went to a really good spot on this next stately south-of-the-equator day. There were some ledges that led up to a double-set where Dylan, Matt, and Stefan threw down some skateboard movements that were quite extraordinary. That was all neato and stuff, but when we tried to break out of the spot, we ended up losing the people who were showing us around. So we busted a revert and went back to the hotel to kick it in the Jacuzzi in some boardshorts.
On our last day in Australia, we got some quality skating in at the library wedge thingy in downtown Melbourne. When we were done ripping that place to shreds, we next went on to a manual spot under a bridge. A few minutes after showing up there, at least 702 Rollerbladers arrived to get in my way. I think Arlo Eisenberg was doing a demo or something there, and it ruined my day. If I could’ve beaten up that many people at once, I surely would have. I would’ve thrown 701 Rollerbladers into the river that was nearby and tossed in that one harsh Arlo Eisenberg along with the rest.
By this time, we had run out of days to spend in the Australian land that I love so dearly, so we got on that flying people mover and headed back home to our country ’tis of thee.
To all the people I met in Australia and my comrades who were traveling at my side, this is for you. And Iiiiii-eee-iiii will always loooooove youuuu, oooooh ooooh! Okay, the story’s over. Peace.46;tis of thee.
To all the people I met in Australia and my comrades who were traveling at my side, this is for you. And Iiiiii-eee-iiii will always loooooove youuuu, oooooh ooooh! Okay, the story’s over. Peace.