The death rattle of the cicadas over the last little bit seemed to be enough of a harbinger for summer's end. Cooler nights...different smells...not counting the odd superglue smell at the skatepark. I suppose I am ready for this, even though I count myself in the number that love a hot day.
Mica and I are trying to hack through the jungle vines of school. So far so good. I got a B on a test that I was sure that I failed. She constantly belly aches about how bad she does and then pulls an A out of her arse. That's how she goes. The queen of sandbagging to my king. We are a good match, I think.
For a moment, I eschewed homework to ride my bike a little last night. Corey got some new bars, which means I got my old bars back. Which means that I was compelled to put them on. Which means that I was not used to my bike at all. I think I broke my toe. Took some pics with the D100, and also realized that my flash is newer than the camera, so there is some jibbness to work out there.
Offering one is Billy. He called out the air and then complained that he can go higher with better shoes. SURE BILLY. I kid...
Andy Cornell is so good. And so nice. I used to think his sister was so hot.
Tetro is back. With a beard. And with some paint. I like the beard. Not sure about the paint.
Corey learned toboggan to disasters after I told him about Dylan Smith doing them in a behind the scenes video for Empire. He gets better and better in the bowl...it makes me sick.