Chris’s interview with Kimberly Kane can be seen on VBS.TV any day now.
Tarynthomas.wordpress/ Adameve.com
Dir: Jim Enright
Rating: 9 I hope they don't kick me out of Jersey for saying this but I've always hated the Jersey Shore. As a child my family would go down to Cape May for vacation. While everyone was on the beach swimming in the sea, I read comic books and played arcade games. I wasn't about to go into the ocean after seeing the documentary Jaws, which detailed the Jersey shark attacks of 1916. When I was 12, I went to Seaside Heights with a friend's family. Our second night there, we heard a sonic boom from across the street. We waited until the ambulances and cop cars arrived before going to see what the hubbub was. A young Polish kid had found warped M-80s on the beach, brought them home, and tried to light one. The fuse burned down in a blink of an eye, barely giving the M-80 a chance to leave the boy's hand. It exploded inches away, taking his three middle fingers with it, leaving him with a permanent shaka. Blood and bone fragments covered the yard; you wouldn't believe the amount of blood three fingers can produce. I asked my friend's family to take me home. As a teenager I returned to the boardwalk with friends to get high and play video games. The stoner beach-bum skate scene down the shore made me embarrassed that I smoked weed. It was like everyone saw Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High and said, "That's what I want to be when I grow up." I gave up pot soon after. There is a certain type of trash and vermin that's floated up on the Jersey Shore every summer for as long as I can remember, and I'm not talking about hypodermic needles and other medical waste. I am referring to lubed-up, subhuman Italian guidos from Staten Island. Their sole intention for the summer is to collect STDs and get in fights. On one of my first dates with my wife we went down the shore to see some reggae band. It might have been Bob Marley. Or that other guy. I could care less; I was just trying to get in her pants. "Oh, you like reggae? I LOVE REGGAE MUSIC!" Anyway, the metered parking spot near the club was jacked. I put a quarter in, twisted the knob, and it jammed "VIOLATION." I decided to fix the meter with my vast knowledge of mechanics and engineering. I went in the trunk of my car, grabbed my skateboard, and swung my truck at the meter, hoping to knock it into gear. After the second swing I heard, "Ay yo! What the fuck? You got a fucking problem?" I ignored it because a) I didn't have a problem and b) why would anyone be talking to me? On the third hit the meter knocked into an ON position and locked up. I had unlimited time for the rest of the night. I felt like an Olympic gold medalist. I could see my future wife's pants loosening. Then I heard the voice again, only closer, "You want to beat something up, why don't you try and beat me up?" I looked up and there was a muscle-bound guido, with his guidette whore, pushing a baby stroller toward me to fight. He didn't have a shirt on; I don't believe they sell shirts in Staten Island. Or perhaps they are not permitted by law. "You got a problem?" he asked. I laughed and said, "Are you a fucking Cro-Mag? I was fixing a meter. Go home and beat your girlfriend." This made his girlfriend laugh, most likely because he did beat her. That bullshit MTV show has glorified these animals and now New Jersey has an even worse connotation to Americans. The only good thing about it is that anal slut Taryn Thomas made a porn parody of the show. Sadly, she didn't take it in the butt because as she said on Howard Stern, her ass and intestines were "torn open" during an anal scene a few years ago. Her doctor cleared her to have anal sex again but she didn't tell her doctor she planned on taking two dicks in her ass and she thought it best to wait. For more of Chris go to chrisnieratko.com or NJSkateshop.com.
Rating: 9 I hope they don't kick me out of Jersey for saying this but I've always hated the Jersey Shore. As a child my family would go down to Cape May for vacation. While everyone was on the beach swimming in the sea, I read comic books and played arcade games. I wasn't about to go into the ocean after seeing the documentary Jaws, which detailed the Jersey shark attacks of 1916. When I was 12, I went to Seaside Heights with a friend's family. Our second night there, we heard a sonic boom from across the street. We waited until the ambulances and cop cars arrived before going to see what the hubbub was. A young Polish kid had found warped M-80s on the beach, brought them home, and tried to light one. The fuse burned down in a blink of an eye, barely giving the M-80 a chance to leave the boy's hand. It exploded inches away, taking his three middle fingers with it, leaving him with a permanent shaka. Blood and bone fragments covered the yard; you wouldn't believe the amount of blood three fingers can produce. I asked my friend's family to take me home. As a teenager I returned to the boardwalk with friends to get high and play video games. The stoner beach-bum skate scene down the shore made me embarrassed that I smoked weed. It was like everyone saw Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High and said, "That's what I want to be when I grow up." I gave up pot soon after. There is a certain type of trash and vermin that's floated up on the Jersey Shore every summer for as long as I can remember, and I'm not talking about hypodermic needles and other medical waste. I am referring to lubed-up, subhuman Italian guidos from Staten Island. Their sole intention for the summer is to collect STDs and get in fights. On one of my first dates with my wife we went down the shore to see some reggae band. It might have been Bob Marley. Or that other guy. I could care less; I was just trying to get in her pants. "Oh, you like reggae? I LOVE REGGAE MUSIC!" Anyway, the metered parking spot near the club was jacked. I put a quarter in, twisted the knob, and it jammed "VIOLATION." I decided to fix the meter with my vast knowledge of mechanics and engineering. I went in the trunk of my car, grabbed my skateboard, and swung my truck at the meter, hoping to knock it into gear. After the second swing I heard, "Ay yo! What the fuck? You got a fucking problem?" I ignored it because a) I didn't have a problem and b) why would anyone be talking to me? On the third hit the meter knocked into an ON position and locked up. I had unlimited time for the rest of the night. I felt like an Olympic gold medalist. I could see my future wife's pants loosening. Then I heard the voice again, only closer, "You want to beat something up, why don't you try and beat me up?" I looked up and there was a muscle-bound guido, with his guidette whore, pushing a baby stroller toward me to fight. He didn't have a shirt on; I don't believe they sell shirts in Staten Island. Or perhaps they are not permitted by law. "You got a problem?" he asked. I laughed and said, "Are you a fucking Cro-Mag? I was fixing a meter. Go home and beat your girlfriend." This made his girlfriend laugh, most likely because he did beat her. That bullshit MTV show has glorified these animals and now New Jersey has an even worse connotation to Americans. The only good thing about it is that anal slut Taryn Thomas made a porn parody of the show. Sadly, she didn't take it in the butt because as she said on Howard Stern, her ass and intestines were "torn open" during an anal scene a few years ago. Her doctor cleared her to have anal sex again but she didn't tell her doctor she planned on taking two dicks in her ass and she thought it best to wait. For more of Chris go to chrisnieratko.com or NJSkateshop.com.