Prague

*Dan Rogers wishes he was a profesional wrestler.

When I volunteered to write this article I thought I was doing myself a favor. I have always thought of myself as being a fairly proficient writer and joked about how bland every article is in TransWorld. I always thought it would be really fun to get something in the magazine talking mass shit on various people I thought deserved it. Now, however, I am slowly learning what a pain in the ass it is to write for this politically correct, morally righteous publication.

You never really think, or at least I never do, how vulgar, lewd and antagonistic skateboarders are until you try to convey a story to thousands of unappreciative little f¿kers. Oops, that will get edited. Now The Rock knows. Our journey, you unappreciative little bastards, starts off in the greatest country in the world, the United States of America. For the record, my upstart sponsor War Effort wanted to send my dimwitted teammate/roommate Brian Young, and me, the People’s Champion, to Europe for the summer contests. As lame as contests are, it’s still a lot of fun to travel to the other side of the world to hang out with friends you don’t normally see.

Believe it or not, 90 percent of the street pros don’t give a shit about the contest they’re at¿unlike the vert pros whose careers are based on something as ridiculous as the X (truly not worth finishing) and have to take it seriously. For instance, take Pierre Luc Macdonald¿whom everyone loathes because he shows his Boy Scout candy-ass at every stupid contest. This monkey-loving jabroni should be in prison for his buck-tooth beat style, but somehow he exists because of stupid contests. I personally would love to drive his jabroni-ass down “Just-Got-Your-Ass-Kicked Boulevard” and drop-kick him into the “smackdown hotel,” but that’s another story. Editor’s note: It seems that Dan is a little bitter because he’s hardly made a dime in ten years of professional skateboarding.

As I mentioned earlier, my small sponsor wanted to pay for the plane tickets to get us there and jumped at the chance to save some money. I found tickets for 600 dollars round trip, which is really, really cheap. To make a long story short¿PAY ATTENTION, LEDGE DWELLERS¿we got tickets, but they changed the contest dates. The People’s Champion was delighted to find out that changing the tickets was going to cost over a grand. This meant no stupid contest! No stupid announcer! Not one minute of wasted time in Europe! Don’t get me wrong, one could make the argument that spending one minute in Europe is a waste of time because we do live in the greatest country in the world. For the People’s Champ, however, the mystical city of Prague is a second home. I couldn’t help but fantasize how the millions and millions of The Rock’s fans would join in unison in Stalin Square chanting The Rock’s name, “Rocky! Rocky!”

With the tickets on the way, my sponsor searched for a justification to fly us to the other side of the world. He came up with a typical solution¿demos! Somehow, Brian (dimwitted roommate) and Chris Atchinson (clueless sponsor, see fine print for details) thought it would be great to do a week’s worth of demos in dirty, stinky Germany.

When The Rock got wind of this, I immediately put it to a screeching halt. The Great One grabbed a phone and conveyed a message any uneducated hillbilly from Alabama could understand: “Chris, this is what The Rock thinks about Germany¿two world wars and one world cup. Doo-dah, doo-dah.” Why would you ever want to go to a place where all people do is reek of body odor and start things they can’t finish? We kicked their roody-poo candy-asses before, and if they step out of line by invading Poland again, The Rock will personally drive them down “I’m-A-Stinky-German Avenue” and get them the “got–size-8-boot-up-my-ass suite” in the “gonna-lose-a-third-world-war motel!”

Obviously after that conversati, the trip was going to have nothing to do with Germany, thank ________! Fill in the blank as you wish. Whatever ridiculous god you base your life on will do¿for example: Thank Mick Foley! Or Thank Vince McMahon! And if you persist, Thank G–, nah, forget it.

Back to the story, you snivelling little fashion plate. Try to pay attention, the story is about to get to the boring skateboarding part, what do you think about that? IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU THINK, LEDGE DWELLER! On the afternoon of July seventeenth, our hopeless/useless photographer from TWS, who goes by the name ofShad Lambert, was supposed to meet us in the greatest city in the world¿Prague. Two weeks prior to the trip, I drew Shad a map from the train station directing him to Mystic Skate Shop to meet up with us. I promised him that if he showed up, he would be in good hands with the locals Thomashee, Pavel, and of course, Max¿the greatest dog on the face of our f¿ked-up planet.

The train station is located fairly close to Mystic. Shad was supposed to take a train from Dortmund and walk to the shop. Although The Rock despises contests and dirty, stinky Germany, at least an American skater won. I don’t want to mention any names, but his initials are Eric Koston, jabronies. Take that, Euros!

The Rock’s traveling party arrived in Prague mid afternoon, hoping Shad had made it there in a timely, safe fashion. Of course he wasn’t there yet, so I tried to ask to one of the shop guys if he’d shown up. My main stumbling block in Prague is that my Californian/American version of English sounds like gibberish to anyone who’s from there. “Hey jabroni! There’s this weird-looking hermaphrodite named Shad who’s coming here to document that The Rock has finally come back to Prague! He’ll be carrying all kinds of photo crap and probably have a clueless look on his lost face as he fantasizes about a monkey’s anus! Have you seen him?”

The poor jabroni replied with the typical Euro busted-grill expression, “I … ummm … don’t understand.”

Don’t understand? The Rock says this, “After work tonight, when you drive home in that ridiculous Skoda, think about how you could improve yourself by relinquishing the pressure around your head by pulling it out of your ass!”

With that a stumbling, bumbling, left-handed yahoo came through the hallowed entryway to Mystic. Shad had entered the building. As it turns out, this Shad character had really pulled some fast ones over on TransWorld, which between you and me is notthat hard to do. Remember that time when Danny Way jumped out of the helicopter? It was supposed to be this big secret thing for TWS, but the infamous Dan Sturt poached photos for Thrasher. He was actually standing ten feet away from a TWS guy. Editor’s note: Actually it was a D.C. guy¿Mike Ballard. We would have smelled Sturt’s stinky-arse breath in a second. Sturt was dressed in some mechanic outfit, pretty awesome, huh?. Anyway, back to our adventure.

“Did you find it okay, jabroni? I guess so since your candy-ass is standing in the presence of the People’s Champ. How was the train from stinkhole?”

The next thing that came out of Sir F¿k-up-a-lot’s mouth was truly unbelievable: “I had to take a plane from Germany blah, blah, blah.” Shad actually got on a plane from Germany to Czech instead of taking a nine-hour train ride that cost seventy bucks. Even better than that, it turns out that Shad had trouble deciphering the train schedule in Switzerland and ended up taking a plane from Switzerland to Germany, as well. The two train trips should have cost like 160 bucks, but because TWS was paying, Shad took two plane trips instead costing 700 dollars. The Rock can’t believe this jabroni still has a job¿the Rock thought that only the People’s Champ traveled first class.

The Great One was very stoked to be in Prague after all of the Mystic Cup attendees had marched their candy-asses out of town. Prague was built by the people, for the people, and is one of the most amazing places in the world. It’s too bad the majority of the people reading this won’t care, but oh well, suck it.

Stalin Square is filled with an overabundance of marble that would satisfy any ledge-dweller’s craving, not to mention all of the new gnarly ledges that are dispersed throughout the square. So all of you narcissistic morons out there who are trying to film at your local pseudo skate spot, there is a hell of a lot more going on in life than your unoriginal switch butters you just sketched on video. In addition to Stalin Square, the city has great rails, stairs, and lots of knickknack stuff along the way. But the attraction, in addition to the skating, is the overwhelming mystical feel that engulfs the city.

Everything is stained black due to the coal burning as a source of heat. Combine that with all of the gothic church towers, and this place truly is incredible. We skated Stalin Square as well as the Mystic Skatepark and had an amazing time. There is nothing like coming home to the people and having them serve up loads of hospitality for their champion. The Rock wants to personally thank all of the Mystic crew for taking care of the Great One while he was in their part of the world. Although they did upset The Rock with disappointing news of how some dirty, stinky, (you should know by now what the Rock is talking about) won their contest. There can’t be anything worse than a non-American winning a skateboard contest.

My God! I’m still writing this stupid article, now I’m really bored. Note to self¿never volunteer to write an article for a magazine again. Maybe the letter column, but that’s it. Look, Europe is a fun place to go when someone else is paying for it, and Prague is one of the best places in Europe. Contests are lame, and the photos always seem to suck. Sometimes there’ll be five guys totally ripping, so the photographers shoot them, but when the finals happen they allbail and five dudes who don’t really have any photos place first through fifth. Figure it out, dipshits, contests suck for everyone. Shad didn’t even take photos of the finals in either contest. As a matter of fact, he didn’t take any photos of the contests at all. He tried to lie to Grant and say, “I turned them in to you, dude.” Miraculously, the Prague photos didn’t disappear, weird.

I’m sick of writing something you little brats probably aren’t even going to read. The Rock says this: go to the people’s city of Prague, and I’m sure any monkey-loving jabroni will have a great time. Skate Stalin Square, pay homage to the People’s noseslide ledge, but most importantly keep a sharp lookout for trailer trash. If there is one thing the Great One can’t stand, it’s bald-headed trailer trash wandering through my home-away-from-home. For some reason or another, The Rock doesn’t think the people may know who he is referring to. To clear the air, The Rock has a few clues written out in a nursery rhyme:

Hickory, dickory, dock

I’ve never seen a big, bald, pile of monkey crap

Wear lame-ass Oakley blades and ride a skateboard before

That’s right kids, The Rock is referring to the one and only wannabe tough guy, Mike Vallely. And if The Rock sees him in person, a jackass skating around with a bald head and the word TransWorld can’t print choice of eyewear, the Rock will take M.V. by his dopey Mickey Mouse ears and drag him down the people’s sidewalk. Of course M.V. will be kicking and screaming like a little girl, and I’ll proceed to layeth the smacketh-down on his identity crisis candy-ass before throwing him in front of the people’s bus screaming down “Just-Got-The-Monkey-Crap-Beat-Out-Of-My-Trailer-Trash-Ass Drive!” CAN YOU SMELL … WHAT THE ROCK … IS COOKING … ? Editor’s note: Sounds like bitter Dan is calling M.V. out. Could be a pay-per-view match.

*Anyone getting involved in business with Vinnie Raffa is obviously clueless.

was built by the people, for the people, and is one of the most amazing places in the world. It’s too bad the majority of the people reading this won’t care, but oh well, suck it.

Stalin Square is filled with an overabundance of marble that would satisfy any ledge-dweller’s craving, not to mention all of the new gnarly ledges that are dispersed throughout the square. So all of you narcissistic morons out there who are trying to film at your local pseudo skate spot, there is a hell of a lot more going on in life than your unoriginal switch butters you just sketched on video. In addition to Stalin Square, the city has great rails, stairs, and lots of knickknack stuff along the way. But the attraction, in addition to the skating, is the overwhelming mystical feel that engulfs the city.

Everything is stained black due to the coal burning as a source of heat. Combine that with all of the gothic church towers, and this place truly is incredible. We skated Stalin Square as well as the Mystic Skatepark and had an amazing time. There is nothing like coming home to the people and having them serve up loads of hospitality for their champion. The Rock wants to personally thank all of the Mystic crew for taking care of the Great One while he was in their part of the world. Although they did upset The Rock with disappointing news of how some dirty, stinky, (you should know by now what the Rock is talking about) won their contest. There can’t be anything worse than a non-American winning a skateboard contest.

My God! I’m still writing this stupid article, now I’m really bored. Note to self¿never volunteer to write an article for a magazine again. Maybe the letter column, but that’s it. Look, Europe is a fun place to go when someone else is paying for it, and Prague is one of the best places in Europe. Contests are lame, and the photos always seem to suck. Sometimes there’ll be five guys totally ripping, so the photographers shoot them, but when the finals happen they allbail and five dudes who don’t really have any photos place first through fifth. Figure it out, dipshits, contests suck for everyone. Shad didn’t even take photos of the finals in either contest. As a matter of fact, he didn’t take any photos of the contests at all. He tried to lie to Grant and say, “I turned them in to you, dude.” Miraculously, the Prague photos didn’t disappear, weird.

I’m sick of writing something you little brats probably aren’t even going to read. The Rock says this: go to the people’s city of Prague, and I’m sure any monkey-loving jabroni will have a great time. Skate Stalin Square, pay homage to the People’s noseslide ledge, but most importantly keep a sharp lookout for trailer trash. If there is one thing the Great One can’t stand, it’s bald-headed trailer trash wandering through my home-away-from-home. For some reason or another, The Rock doesn’t think the people may know who he is referring to. To clear the air, The Rock has a few clues written out in a nursery rhyme:

Hickory, dickory, dock

I’ve never seen a big, bald, pile of monkey crap

Wear lame-ass Oakley blades and ride a skateboard before

That’s right kids, The Rock is referring to the one and only wannabe tough guy, Mike Vallely. And if The Rock sees him in person, a jackass skating around with a bald head and the word TransWorld can’t print choice of eyewear, the Rock will take M.V. by his dopey Mickey Mouse ears and drag him down the people’s sidewalk. Of course M.V. will be kicking and screaming like a little girl, and I’ll proceed to layeth the smacketh-down on his identity crisis candy-ass before throwing him in front of the people’s bus screaming down “Just-Got-The-Monkey-Crap-Beat-Out-Of-My-Trailer-Trash-Ass Drive!” CAN YOU SMELL … WHAT THE ROCK … IS COOKING … ? Editor’s note: Sounds like bitter Dan is calling M.V. out. Could be a pay-per-view match.

*Anyone getting involved in business with Vinnie Raffa is obviously clueless.