Freak Magnet: Armageddon Has Been in Effect: Go Get a Late Pass

So my 39th birthday was May 4. I celebrated by riding Lake Cunningham Skatepark in San Jose. It was great: Tuesday is an all BMX day, and there were only two grom kids there. One of them asked me how to do airs...I tried to teach him, but I'm not so hot myself.

I recently ran across a guy named Rich Sayers online, who toured 45 Nor Cal skateparks to celebrate his 45th birthday. That's fuckin' rad. Me? Well, I rode all six bowls at Cunningham...that's got to count for something. I need to gear up for my 45th though, if I'm going to hang.

Monique and I had a BBQ on May 2--she shares the same birthday. Below is the photo documentation of the debauchery. I'm not sure who took what photo, but I'll take a guess around where the photographers started switching. I know Eric and Alberto took a lot of shots--both photographic and alcoholic.

I started out with a Polish Zywiec porter. It was in a big ass bottle, and, at 9.5%, it was all downhill from there, especially when the Jameson started pouring. I remember looking at the bottle of Jamie that Mo and I bought and saying, "Wow, that went quick." Next thing I remember is Sarah holding up two new bottles, smiling, and saying "Josh sent me to the corner store for more." After that, I remember being poised to eat a moth which had the misfortune of landing on me.

Josh, who helpfully proffered a 20 spot if I ate it, amended his offer with the warning: "Dude, that thing's got orange markings all over it. Don't eat that--it'll make you sick."

Moth averted. That's all she wrote, really. Laura drove me home in my truck at 9pm--faded. The photos below are a good timeline: from 0 to hammered dogshit in about six hours. I want to thank everyone for coming. I'm hoping to do another 'cue, this time at my house, to raise some cash for a mini ramp in my backyard. Keep your fingers crossed.

Veronica and Ken:

Gabe, barging:

Homies for life:

Eric and Josh:

Sarah, Mistress of Ribs:

This seems to be Gabe's "normal" face:

Surfin' waves of PBR:

Bluenose pit:

Kristie and Jason:

J-dogg and Mo:

Beauty and the Beast. Seriously, if you've ever been on the gate next to this guy, you know he doesn't fuck around. I never realized my bike had a reverse gear until he railed past me in a turn:

Birthday kids:

Kool Joe and Aaron:

See what I mean about Gabe's face:

Pure peace:

Caitlin Doyle is a motherfuckin' Masshole:

Perri:

Alberto, you are one suave fuck! Here's to Alberto!

Jason, post tequila shot:

Haven't seen Bernhard since fuckin' high school. He's now a mechanical engineer and a bad-O road and track bike racer. Here he is imitating Gabe:

Kelly K-Town Chubbyteen and Albertini:

Chubby teen! Sausage!

Kristina, my number one babymama:

Kelly brought the love:

Pack another bowl, G:

Grrr!

Okay, this time it's all Bernhard:

Aaron is a solid cat. He designs BMX and other parts for Specialized. He rode the Fat Tire scavenger hunt thing in Berkeley, so he was fuckin' faded when he got to the BBQ. He wouldn't stop hitting on Sarah:

Much to her chagrin:

There's a fine line between handsome and hideous. Love you, Kelly:

Caitlin, Laura, and Sara (also known as "Little Sara," so as not to be confused with "Kitchen Sarah). Sara looks pretty shady...

Things are gettin' rough:

This guy is a little too much of a hunk. I think I'm gonna cut him:

Post whiskey face?

I think Eric might be taking the photos around now. Faded level Defcon 4:

The real green fairy:

Kelly spots Jesus on the neighbor's balcony:

No idea who took this:

Kwadwo, rockin' out:

I've known this fucker since he was maybe 19 years old, recently homeless, former inner-city Detroit quasi-goth weirdo. I had to pull his black card for not knowing who Otis Redding was. Now, he's married, the new father of a gorgeous baby girl, and a member of SFPD. Scary:

Oh just stop it:

Getting woozy. Defcon 3, maybe:

Caitlin is counting down to Armageddon as well, it seems:

Oh shit. Now I'm wearing Mo's Gertrude Stein hat. Might have to raise the threat level to orange:

Would you let this guy design your rocket?

For a guy who owns a bar, Josh sure makes a lot of faces while drinking whiskey. Try a chaser there, Polly Prissypants:

Puro Garcia:

Thuggin':

Alberto's shots were pretty artsy. Here I am, artfully approaching Defcon 2/threat level red:

Reba:

Once again, up to no good:

Eyes setting like the September sun:

Motherfuckin' Bram! Love this dude. From what I here, most of his homies that he showed up with were dicks, but Bram is a champ:

The moth in question:

Edible?

"Thanks for not making me eat that moth, Josh. I think I've hit Defcon 1. Al Qaeda has breeched the perimeter."

Party entropy. This is exactly what I was seeing. I think I might've taken the next couple shots:

Lovity love love!

My baby is gorgeous:

Those are good fuckin' times, folks:

Monique, all blurry:

This picture is awesome:

I think this is when Alberto filled a whole cup with Jamie and drank it. He ended up walking home:

Apparently, Reba can conjure demons at will:

Is this the face of a girl that takes 45 minutes to get ready in the morning while camping? Yeah, probably:

Oh yeah, that's it: the wall. Right around now Josh is offering me shots about every 30 seconds and I'm saying, "I'm cool...just let me rest for a minute":