Ray Barbee Is the Happiest Man in Skateboarding
We caught up with the longtime pro to talk about why race plays no part in skateboarding and how he's stayed so happy for so long.
The Dime Glory Challenge is the stupidest and most fantastic contest in skateboard history.
When one fan messaged her saying he'd like her to suck him like a popsicle, Brielle replied, "I bite popsicles in half and deposit them into food processors before force feeding the resulting slushy to other popsicles."
Chris Nieratko and a travelling band of skateboarders went to Costa Rica to meet up with the Let Them Hear Foundation and document two deaf children as they received surgeries that would allow them to hear for the first time.
For as long as long as skateboarding has been documented, Canadians have been trying to fit in with American skaters and failing. On Canadian Thanksgiving this year, a skate collective called Dime Crew proved some 'Nucks can shred.
Skaters everywhere want to be Fancy Lads, and men and women alike want to bed down with the good-time guys from Bean Town.
Call Me Lucky tells the story of Barry Crimmins, a comedian and sexual abuse survivor who took on AOL in the 90s for inadequately dealing with the child pornography circulating through its chat rooms.
Jeff Ament has used his fame and success to help build skateparks all over Montana and South Dakota, many on Native American reservations.
Erik Munday owned a skate shop in New Jersey called Skate Lair until it went out of business in 2011. Today, he is a private military contractor in Somalia.
Anthony Scalamere, aka Ragdoll, has a ball the size of a grapefruit seven months after a slam made his testicle slowly fill up with fluid.
There's going to be a lot of shit and piss.
Meet the anonymous skate collective dedicated to skating the Jersey Barrier and nothing but the Jersey Barrier.
In this era of big-budget skate videos, Strobeck's lo-fi contributions are a breath of fresh air.
I don't know what it's like in most prisons, but if it's anything like what I endured—scheduling times to go skate between getting one kid on the bus and dropping the other off at preschool—then I truly feel sorry for the masses of incarcerated men and wo…
I'm not talking ironic hipster tattoos of bacon or Rambo; I'm talking praying hands pressed together holding a machete or an Uzi in preparation for a holy war.
There's a scene at the end of Richard Pryor's Brewster's Million where Pryor steps into a room built specially for him and says, "This is the room I want to die in." I felt the same way when I walked inside Elvis's home in Palm Springs.