Saturday, April 04, 2009
The combination of a 12 year old and an Asian tourist...
Did laps around the stadium, took close to 100 pictures and almost got kicked out for touching the dirt.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
April 24, 2009
I don't think I have ever been this psyched for a film in my life. Hopefully I won't leave the theater thinking I'm a boxer the same way I did after 5 margaritas, a few Bud tall boys and Rocky Balboa. The stupid French guy sitting in front of me, like the rest of the stupid French, didn't know when to shut his mouth. I wouldn't be surprised if that guy hasn't been in a movie theater since. Iron Mike...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Our generation has no respect...
I can't believe that guy who played the Joker didn't show up to accept his award.
The highlight of the Oscars...
And it hasn't even started yet. I just called my parents (which I don't do often enough) and Mom and I started talking about the Oscars. That's when she told me how much she liked the movie "Snoop Dogg Millionaire"....
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Board Sports vs. New Skool
We used to fuck with those guys all the time...and when they had the Emerica team coming in for a demo we couldn't resist starting the "they aren't showing up, they canceled" rumor a few days before. I'm pretty sure Darren didn't appreciate our humor, but deep down inside I know he truly loved us. We thought our rumor might not be true...so we decided to go check it out.
Monday, February 16, 2009
3 Years Ago Today
Rudy doesn't have shit on this kid. Apparently Columbia Pictures has bought the rights to this story and signed Magic Johnson on as a producer.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Board Sports...
"We'll look back on these days as the best times of our lives." - In My Eyes
Thank you Mr. Lentini.
Thank you Mr. Lentini.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Right back where I started...
Medford VFW Hall! Right back where I started...Silent Majority circa 1996.
More to come including more of this show, the Kill Yourself Jam at the 7-11 trails and some Board Sports miniramp footage. I'm glad I had a video camera in 96.
More to come including more of this show, the Kill Yourself Jam at the 7-11 trails and some Board Sports miniramp footage. I'm glad I had a video camera in 96.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
What happened to professional skateboarders?
I will be the first to admit I barely know who Greg Lutzka is, I barely know who any new skaters are. The only new skater who has caught my eye is Chris Haslam, who I immediately fell in love with the first time I saw Cheese & Crackers. Oh, and Ryan Sheckler, because he has an MTV show in which he whines...a lot. Sheckler is bad enough, but this shit is on another level. Ladies and gentlemen, the Greg Lutzka Toyota Matrix Pro-Model....
Now at first I thought this was actually cool. A Prius Pro-Model would have been better, but who would turn down their own pro-model car? Then I started to look at the stupid graphics. Then I googled Greg Lutzka.
First, his "accessory line"...
Then, the man himself...
Is that a fingerboard necklace? Someone spring Gator out of jail so he can put this guy in a board-bag.
I am watching America's Best Dance Crew (because the Sheckler show isn't on) and a group just danced to Head Automatica. Ha.
Speaking of skateboarders with TV shows, Rob & Big was hilarious.
Speaking of skateboarders with TV shows, they should replace the guy in Jail Break with Gator.
Good Livin.
Now at first I thought this was actually cool. A Prius Pro-Model would have been better, but who would turn down their own pro-model car? Then I started to look at the stupid graphics. Then I googled Greg Lutzka.
First, his "accessory line"...
Then, the man himself...
Is that a fingerboard necklace? Someone spring Gator out of jail so he can put this guy in a board-bag.
I am watching America's Best Dance Crew (because the Sheckler show isn't on) and a group just danced to Head Automatica. Ha.
Speaking of skateboarders with TV shows, Rob & Big was hilarious.
Speaking of skateboarders with TV shows, they should replace the guy in Jail Break with Gator.
Good Livin.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
"You suck on Sportscenter!"
Sticking with the ESPN theme, check out my friend Jennifer in the newest episode of Mayne Street. She isn't really acting here, she is that white trash.
The red-headed kid stole the show.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
19 hours, 48 minutes and 17 seconds
I walked into ESPN Zone in Times Square at 10am on New Years Day feeling like I had just been hit by a bus. After making the decision to go for the win at the 2nd annual ESPN Ultimate Couch Potato competition, mainly due to this quote from the great Vince Lombardi, “The quality of a person's life is in direct proportion to their commitment to excellence, regardless of their chosen field of endeavor,” I had decided not to drink on New Years Eve. So much for that idea. My only hope was for the other contestants to be as equally unprepared as I was. That was not the case either.
As soon as I entered ESPN Zone I was introduced to Stan, Keyaire and John. Keyaire had gone to sleep at 7pm on New Years Eve to be well rested for a shot at a trophy that looks like my 4th Grade science experiment. John’s life must have been riding on his success that day, because that dude wasn’t a joke. He made sure he knew every rule, right down to whether he was allowed to use Chapstick and toothpaste. He even showed up in sweat pants to have an edge in comfort, despite the fact that he would be appearing on television. Then there was Stan, the defending champ who lasted over 29 hours the previous year. I was obviously the underdog, with little to no chance of not being the first one eliminated.
The clock hit 11am and our asses hit leather. My biggest savior in those early hours was the local media. My eyes were already beginning to close. Had it not been for the spotlights, flashes, cameras and reporters in my face, I may have fallen asleep within the first hour. My biggest concern was that we were only allowed one 15-minute bathroom break every eight hours. I had no idea if I could even make it that long. I hadn’t practiced during the week like John and Keyaire and I didn’t sit here for 29 hours last year like Stan. I opted to not eat or drink for the first 8 hours. I began to think that not drinking at all might have been a mistake when I saw the champ sipping on water, but I figured I had some ground to make up due to not coming into this thing in the best shape.
It seemed like we didn’t have to worry about Keyaire, who sat down and immediately ordered a three-course meal. John was the early favorite, he had a big group of supporters with him, cheering him on and heckling the rest of us. I starting going back to the original thoughts I had before I made the decision to play for the win. Maybe I should get up and walk away, now, just to make people with a sense of humor laugh and those without one scratch their heads and call me names. After all, I would have just wasted this shot at glory, which should have been theirs if I wasn’t going to take it seriously. Maybe I would start drinking and see what would happen first, a disqualifying trip to the bathroom or a disqualifying drunken antic. I decided to have some fun with the press, as you can see in the NY Daily News. I am sorry to say I never brought my couch and TV out onto my sidewalk to “practice in the elements.” I figured, this poor girl was sent here to write a story about 4 guys sitting in recliners watching football; I might as well help her out a little.
At some point I decided to follow Stan’s lead and sip on some water. Then about 4 hours in he ordered Chicken Tenders…so I ordered Chicken Tenders. This continued the rest of the night. We ate dinner together, we switched from water to Diet Coke together and we sat in the same positions. I wonder if he ever noticed.
Around 3:30pm my friends and family starting filtering in to ESPN Zone. This was a game changer, suddenly John wasn't the crowd favorite any longer. The heckling now turned against him, I had the crowd on my side. With three hours left until the first bathroom break John’s bladder joined in on the heckling. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to give up, the crowd letting him have it. He broke. The favorite was the first one out, lasting just over 5 hours. I had more supporters now after his group of friends let me know they were rooting for me. Then Langston Walker and the Buffalo Bills contingent in attendance let me know they were pulling for me as well. As the Rose Bowl was coming to a close I had a decision to make. Was I going to stay in this thing, possibly still sitting here the next morning, or was I going to give it up now? I won’t lie, I wanted to leave. There were no signs of Keyaire or Stan slowing down, all but 2 of my friends had left (those left were encouraging me to give up, thanks Maura!) and my girlfriend was at home waiting for me. I told our waitress, Kara, that I was about to drop out. She told me she was working a 12 hour shift and that there was no way I was leaving before her. She even offered to provide entertainment, which she did by doing cartwheels as she passed by. Talk about good service. I stayed.
A few hours later during a stretch break I checked my phone. 12 missed calls, 30 texts and a few emails. We had hit TV. Now it felt like I had the whole world behind me. Especially after I read a text that said, “the news anchor is even pulling for you, he just said ‘I’ve got 3 bucks on Schatzel,’ you’ve got to win now!” I looked to my right and saw Keyaire starting to doze off. Frankie was right, I couldn’t give up now.
I figured I did have one advantage. I had done this before under much worse conditions. Living on Manhattan’s Lower East Side for over 2 years, with 160+ bars in walking distance, I had spent plenty of alcohol fueled nights awake until 10am the next morning. But a seriously dehydrated night spent on a ridiculously comfortable recliner with nothing to watch but rehashed sports programming proved to be an entirely different challenge. With that said, I need to thank Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer for their performance in the 2008 Wimbledon Men’s final. All the credit for me lasting almost 20 hours goes to Nadal and Federer. They also get some credit for finally knocking out Keyaire. His eyes had been dropping every 3 or 4 seconds for the last 3 hours, tennis finally knocked him out, but he wouldn’t go easy. He argued and fought, saying his eyes had only been closed for a few seconds. Yelling, demanding he could not be kicked out yet, asking for another chance. I could understand the argument if his eyes were only closed for a few seconds, but I was sitting next to him, he was asleep for at least a few minutes. Now it was down to only two.
It was after 3am when Keyaire got knocked out and I was starting to feel it too. I began pounding Diet Cokes to stay awake, but then Nadal vs. Federer ended. Next up was a Heisman Trophy show. I thought this would easily keep me awake, until I was reminded that Ty Detmer was a Heisman winner. A 30 minute show about Ty Detmer and I was just about done. I told Stan I was thinking of calling it quits. Stan encouraged me not to quit and gave me some advice. He said his bladder could give up on him at anytime and I should hang in there. With four hours until the next bathroom break he also said this, “If you have to go to the bathroom, just pretend to fall asleep first, otherwise the media will be all over you.” Thanks Stan, you are a great champion. I checked out at 19 hours, 48 minutes and 17 seconds. I finally fell asleep just before 7am, or maybe I had to use the bathroom…thanks to Stan you will never know.
As soon as I entered ESPN Zone I was introduced to Stan, Keyaire and John. Keyaire had gone to sleep at 7pm on New Years Eve to be well rested for a shot at a trophy that looks like my 4th Grade science experiment. John’s life must have been riding on his success that day, because that dude wasn’t a joke. He made sure he knew every rule, right down to whether he was allowed to use Chapstick and toothpaste. He even showed up in sweat pants to have an edge in comfort, despite the fact that he would be appearing on television. Then there was Stan, the defending champ who lasted over 29 hours the previous year. I was obviously the underdog, with little to no chance of not being the first one eliminated.
The clock hit 11am and our asses hit leather. My biggest savior in those early hours was the local media. My eyes were already beginning to close. Had it not been for the spotlights, flashes, cameras and reporters in my face, I may have fallen asleep within the first hour. My biggest concern was that we were only allowed one 15-minute bathroom break every eight hours. I had no idea if I could even make it that long. I hadn’t practiced during the week like John and Keyaire and I didn’t sit here for 29 hours last year like Stan. I opted to not eat or drink for the first 8 hours. I began to think that not drinking at all might have been a mistake when I saw the champ sipping on water, but I figured I had some ground to make up due to not coming into this thing in the best shape.
It seemed like we didn’t have to worry about Keyaire, who sat down and immediately ordered a three-course meal. John was the early favorite, he had a big group of supporters with him, cheering him on and heckling the rest of us. I starting going back to the original thoughts I had before I made the decision to play for the win. Maybe I should get up and walk away, now, just to make people with a sense of humor laugh and those without one scratch their heads and call me names. After all, I would have just wasted this shot at glory, which should have been theirs if I wasn’t going to take it seriously. Maybe I would start drinking and see what would happen first, a disqualifying trip to the bathroom or a disqualifying drunken antic. I decided to have some fun with the press, as you can see in the NY Daily News. I am sorry to say I never brought my couch and TV out onto my sidewalk to “practice in the elements.” I figured, this poor girl was sent here to write a story about 4 guys sitting in recliners watching football; I might as well help her out a little.
At some point I decided to follow Stan’s lead and sip on some water. Then about 4 hours in he ordered Chicken Tenders…so I ordered Chicken Tenders. This continued the rest of the night. We ate dinner together, we switched from water to Diet Coke together and we sat in the same positions. I wonder if he ever noticed.
Around 3:30pm my friends and family starting filtering in to ESPN Zone. This was a game changer, suddenly John wasn't the crowd favorite any longer. The heckling now turned against him, I had the crowd on my side. With three hours left until the first bathroom break John’s bladder joined in on the heckling. He was on the edge of his seat, ready to give up, the crowd letting him have it. He broke. The favorite was the first one out, lasting just over 5 hours. I had more supporters now after his group of friends let me know they were rooting for me. Then Langston Walker and the Buffalo Bills contingent in attendance let me know they were pulling for me as well. As the Rose Bowl was coming to a close I had a decision to make. Was I going to stay in this thing, possibly still sitting here the next morning, or was I going to give it up now? I won’t lie, I wanted to leave. There were no signs of Keyaire or Stan slowing down, all but 2 of my friends had left (those left were encouraging me to give up, thanks Maura!) and my girlfriend was at home waiting for me. I told our waitress, Kara, that I was about to drop out. She told me she was working a 12 hour shift and that there was no way I was leaving before her. She even offered to provide entertainment, which she did by doing cartwheels as she passed by. Talk about good service. I stayed.
A few hours later during a stretch break I checked my phone. 12 missed calls, 30 texts and a few emails. We had hit TV. Now it felt like I had the whole world behind me. Especially after I read a text that said, “the news anchor is even pulling for you, he just said ‘I’ve got 3 bucks on Schatzel,’ you’ve got to win now!” I looked to my right and saw Keyaire starting to doze off. Frankie was right, I couldn’t give up now.
I figured I did have one advantage. I had done this before under much worse conditions. Living on Manhattan’s Lower East Side for over 2 years, with 160+ bars in walking distance, I had spent plenty of alcohol fueled nights awake until 10am the next morning. But a seriously dehydrated night spent on a ridiculously comfortable recliner with nothing to watch but rehashed sports programming proved to be an entirely different challenge. With that said, I need to thank Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer for their performance in the 2008 Wimbledon Men’s final. All the credit for me lasting almost 20 hours goes to Nadal and Federer. They also get some credit for finally knocking out Keyaire. His eyes had been dropping every 3 or 4 seconds for the last 3 hours, tennis finally knocked him out, but he wouldn’t go easy. He argued and fought, saying his eyes had only been closed for a few seconds. Yelling, demanding he could not be kicked out yet, asking for another chance. I could understand the argument if his eyes were only closed for a few seconds, but I was sitting next to him, he was asleep for at least a few minutes. Now it was down to only two.
It was after 3am when Keyaire got knocked out and I was starting to feel it too. I began pounding Diet Cokes to stay awake, but then Nadal vs. Federer ended. Next up was a Heisman Trophy show. I thought this would easily keep me awake, until I was reminded that Ty Detmer was a Heisman winner. A 30 minute show about Ty Detmer and I was just about done. I told Stan I was thinking of calling it quits. Stan encouraged me not to quit and gave me some advice. He said his bladder could give up on him at anytime and I should hang in there. With four hours until the next bathroom break he also said this, “If you have to go to the bathroom, just pretend to fall asleep first, otherwise the media will be all over you.” Thanks Stan, you are a great champion. I checked out at 19 hours, 48 minutes and 17 seconds. I finally fell asleep just before 7am, or maybe I had to use the bathroom…thanks to Stan you will never know.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
"Faded tattoos on our legs and backs and our feet are buried in the sand..."
The same faces; Anthony, Brad, Baldwin, Adam, Ryan, Christian, O'Conner, Mikey, Black Jon, Lentini, Sprite, myself, and plenty of others I'm forgetting, standing up front, pressed against the stage, yelling every word, every single time. I had just gotten into the Long Island Hardcore scene after stealing a cassette tape copy of Start Today from my friend Joe's older brother Tom. A few weeks later, Tom reluctantly brought Joe and I to our first show, Mind Over Matter and Silent Majority at the Medford VFW Hall. That night helped shape what the rest of my teenage years would become. It was all downhill from there. We rarely ever missed a Silent Majority show. We would drive to skatespots all over Long Island, in my sweet station wagon, having Life Of A Spectator sing-alongs the entire way. I remember the man crush we all had on Tommy. We pranked called him at home...and at work...and prank internetted him. We assaulted him outside of shows with water guns and water balloons. We tried to tie his shoe laces together while he jumped around on stage. I think it's time for another reunion...
Coming soon: Silent Majority at the Medford VFW circa 94 or 95.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Weekend Practice Report
The first practice of the season didn't go so well. I sat down on my couch at 4pm, ready to take in the Jets game, some highlight shows, and then watch the Giants lock up home-field advantage. Eight hours of Football, no bathroom breaks. I thought fatigue or the need to urinate would be the biggest obstacle to overcome, I quickly found out there was a much bigger obstacle. The New York Jets. I remember parts of the first quarter...and then I remember waking up just before kickoff of the Giants game. If Sunday had been the actual Superbowl of Lazy...I wouldn't have made it through the first hour. Luckily, the Jets will not be playing on January 1st...or anytime there after.
This morning we practiced outside in the elements, you never know what gameday may bring...
This morning we practiced outside in the elements, you never know what gameday may bring...
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Superbowl of Lazy
About a month ago I received an email from Gringo Entertainment Correspondent Frankie Baez encouraging me to try out for the ESPN Ultimate Couch Potato Competition, a contest won by the person who can do absolutely nothing longer than anyone else. I got a call Friday morning just before I had a wisdom tooth yanked out (thank god for pain killers) inviting me to take on the reigning champion. I will be competing against three other idiots, including last years champ who watched 29 consecutive hours of sports, at 11am on New Years Day.
I was originally torn between the following options:
1. Ordering ridiculous amounts of food until I vomit.
2. Getting trashed and eventually disqualified for something stupid.
3. Getting up and leaving for no reason...with-in the first five minutes.
Then I thought of one of my all-time favorite quotes...
"The quality of a person's life is in direct proportion to their commitment to excellence, regardless of their chosen field of endeavor. " - Vince Lombardi
Fuck it, I'm going for the win. If you don't see any posts from me in the near future it is because I am busy training.
ESPN Zone, New Years Day, 11am til I piss my pants, be there.
Here is the brilliant answer that got me an invitation to the Final Four:
Do you think the inventor of the yellow first down line should be awarded the Nobel Prize for physics?
That stupid yellow line was invented for people who don't understand football. It is the equivalent of that crazy glowing hockey puck with the trail following it that lasted all of 10 minutes. If I see one more play that comes up a half yard short of a first down and hear one more idiot yell "Come on! Couldn't he see the yellow line!!!!!" I might completely lose it. Seriously though, as much as you probably want to, I suggest not choosing me. It won't even be a contest. If you think Tiger is dominant it is because you haven't challenged me to a competition that involves sports and food yet. A blowout may seriously hurt your ratings....pick someone else.
Sincerely,
Brian Schatzel
I was originally torn between the following options:
1. Ordering ridiculous amounts of food until I vomit.
2. Getting trashed and eventually disqualified for something stupid.
3. Getting up and leaving for no reason...with-in the first five minutes.
Then I thought of one of my all-time favorite quotes...
"The quality of a person's life is in direct proportion to their commitment to excellence, regardless of their chosen field of endeavor. " - Vince Lombardi
Fuck it, I'm going for the win. If you don't see any posts from me in the near future it is because I am busy training.
ESPN Zone, New Years Day, 11am til I piss my pants, be there.
Here is the brilliant answer that got me an invitation to the Final Four:
Do you think the inventor of the yellow first down line should be awarded the Nobel Prize for physics?
That stupid yellow line was invented for people who don't understand football. It is the equivalent of that crazy glowing hockey puck with the trail following it that lasted all of 10 minutes. If I see one more play that comes up a half yard short of a first down and hear one more idiot yell "Come on! Couldn't he see the yellow line!!!!!" I might completely lose it. Seriously though, as much as you probably want to, I suggest not choosing me. It won't even be a contest. If you think Tiger is dominant it is because you haven't challenged me to a competition that involves sports and food yet. A blowout may seriously hurt your ratings....pick someone else.
Sincerely,
Brian Schatzel
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
"The unsung hero of random hilarious"
I was deleting pictures from my phone today when I came upon this beauty, I didn't have it in me to hit the delete button. Then I came home to this work of art by Mr. Contrast. I can't take credit for this Long Beach Boulevard sidewalk masterpiece, but I am proud to have captured it via Blackberry. Cock and Balling never gets old. Here are my two favorite cock and ball stories of recent memory...
1. West End, Long Beach, NY: The residents of 61 Tennessee make the fatal mistake of leaving their front door unlocked. Mr. Contrast shows up to an unlocked empty apartment and wanders around for a few seconds. Then he goes into a coma of immaturity as he begins to draw cock and ball after cock and ball onto post-it notes and plaster the walls of the unsuspecting victims. When he snaps out of it he isn't sure how he had done it or how long it had taken him, but 61 Tennessee had hundreds of cock and ball post-its covering its walls and ceilings. Gnarly.
2. Costa Rica, sometime after midnight: I sit out the night due to injuring my foot. Contrast and STB make the usual trek to the bar formerly known as Blew Dog's. On the walk home they come upon a bonfire, not unusual. They sit down and begin talking to some girl. I won't get into how stupid she is, but trust me, she defines stupid. While being annoyed by Miss Stupid, STB sculpts a giant SPURTING cock and balls out of sand, stands up...admires his work...and vanishes.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Overheard on the F Train
In September you were introduced to Frankie Baez when he reported his experience with guido Yankee fans at Shea Stadium, which I can not wait to see destroyed by a wrecking ball....because it doesn't have dipping dots. Frankie is now reporting to us from the F Train, maybe we should hire him full-time.
Overheard on the F Train: "Good morning ladies and gentleman. I am homeless and need your help. If anybody can spare some change I would greatly appreciate it. I also accept money from asians, if that's humanly possible."
Anyone want to fund a documentary film about NYC bums?
Overheard on the F Train: "Good morning ladies and gentleman. I am homeless and need your help. If anybody can spare some change I would greatly appreciate it. I also accept money from asians, if that's humanly possible."
Anyone want to fund a documentary film about NYC bums?
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Heath Kirchart and Jeremy Klein
Here are some of the many reasons why my favorite video part of all time is not from any of my favorite videos or by any of my favorite skaters. Birdhouse did two things no one else had the balls to do when they filmed The End. They handed the creative freedom over to the actual skaters and they dropped the money for some real production quality. They went into this project with a $100,000 budget, huge at the time for a skate video. Heath and Jeremy managed to double that. They routinely called the director at 2 am, woke him up, and annoyed the shit out of him until he showed up at some random spot. This wasn't just one guy they were dragging out of bed, it was a small film crew. Here is a list of the other reasons why this is my favorite video part of all time...
1. They filmed at a gas station...where there was nothing to skate.
1. They filmed at a gas station...where there was nothing to skate.
2. They filmed at a Blockbuster...where there was nothing to skate.
3. They filmed at other locations...where there was nothing to skate.
4. They filmed the entire part in brand new Armani suits.
5. They lit themselves on fire in those suits.
6. They blew up a shed
7. They blew up a van.
8. They skated off the end of a pier...in brand new Armani suits...on fire.
Rumor has it that after filming this they were never the same. In his book, Tony Hawk talks about how they would continue to light themselves on fire and blow shit up for months after this. Awesome.
4. They filmed the entire part in brand new Armani suits.
5. They lit themselves on fire in those suits.
6. They blew up a shed
7. They blew up a van.
8. They skated off the end of a pier...in brand new Armani suits...on fire.
Rumor has it that after filming this they were never the same. In his book, Tony Hawk talks about how they would continue to light themselves on fire and blow shit up for months after this. Awesome.
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