Watch: James Bond shred Pinkos/Pow!

Eat your heart out Travis Rice!

Engendered by the most lyrical of winterized speed fiends and safety-averse fruitcakes, the genesis of modern snowboarding; secretly born on golf course hills and backyard hummocks, can be traced to a tight fistful of early vanguard bros.

Of those, scant few rise to the Promethean level of pow-slash ubermensch Tom Sims. The legacy of this New Jersey-born innovator casts a long shadow into the material and spiritual culture of ski-boarding, now close to 40 years seriatim.

Yesterday our dreams of the universe were one-way dreams, soaring towards the sky.

Today, our thoughts and hearts oscillate between blips of digital stimuli. So now! Let’s go back. And rip a metaphoric bong-hit for anamnesis! Back to a moment in time when Sims took shredding to the Silver Screen for the very first time. And in legendary form, as Bond. James Bond. In the film, 1985’s A View To A Kill.

Forecast: “Best winter in 10 years!”

Dr. Kenny Powers says, "Don't hurt your nose!"

More good news out of Siberia today for those who live in the central or eastern portions of the United States of America. Siberia has already received more snowfall than it has since 1998 creating a cold air harvest that will soon begin swooping down into our heartland.

My colleagues at the Weather Channel report:


Snow is covering the ground across most of Russia, including all of Siberia – likely the greatest extent of snow cover since 1998. Below is the current snow cover in northern Asia as of Oct. 31.

Snow is covering the ground across most of Russia, including all of Siberia – likely the greatest extent of snow cover since 1998. Below is the current snow cover in northern Asia as of Oct. 31.

Some locations, including Sakha in east-central Russia, are seeing their snowiest winter on record, with most of the snow season yet to come. Nearly 10 feet of snow fell in some places in Siberia in just three days, according to the Government of Sakha.

If the patterns hold, snow may even reach the southern portions of the U.S. will receive much snow. My personal recommendation remains New Hampshire or the SLS South Beach. Book your room here.

Halldor and the dreaded mashed potatoes.

Top 5 Worst Pro Snowboarders! invite to Thanksgiving dinner!

Thanksgiving is a time for family to gather and give thanks. Thanks to the pilgrims who ran aground back east with offerings of small pox and enslavement to the indigenous peoples of North America.

Or, as it is celebrated in my house, drinking as much as possible to forget you are related to these people you are surrounded by on the last Thursday of November.

The only thing that could make it worse is inviting any of these 5 people over for some dead bird and stuffing.

1. Nate Bozung- “Mommy, why does the man’s face look like a truckstop bathroom wall?” It’s true, Boznuts’ face does look like a 3rd graders sketch book, but…aw shit, Nate is about as sweet as a puppy dog. That is unless he has recently broken up with a girlfriend which would result in a lot of swearing and probably his genitalia in the gravy.

Mr. Boznuts

2. Annie Boulanger- The only thing worse than a Donald Trump presidency is someone who wants to see the Turkeys birth certificate. If you are going to do turkey day with someone, try to focus on where the dead bird is going not where it came from. Was is free range, was it grass fed, did it have friends? Who cares, it’s going to be turned into poop in about 8 hours !

3. Halldor Helgason- When inviting a person to Thanksgiving it’s best to find someone who actually eats what most humans consider to be food. Halldor pretty much just eats high fructose corn syrup…and vodka. That plus nobody wants Icelandic face pubes in the mashed potatoes.

4. Todd Richards- Fuck that dude, could you be more irreverent ? What are you, like 87 now? He would be lucky if he lived through the saying of grace.

5. Bode Merrill- Hey caveman save some for the rest of us! When you have the physique of a linebacker you obviously consume more than the average sized person. When you are a godammned snowboarding machine of doom, you probably will eat the plates and the tablecloth as well. Look asshole, I wanted to have some of Grandma’s pie too, you damned food vacuum!


Nature: Man shakes fist at God!

Our snow expert's newest recommendation!

Last season was world record bad in America’s northeast. My meteorological colleagues predicted that the El Niño conditions across the Pacific would push warmer than usual air through the region thusly affecting snowfall and this is exactly what happened.

It was considered the worst season in at least 25 years.

The outlook is much better for this season from Burlington to Boston but also there has been a large scale investment in snowmaking equipment. Man is wrestling control back from God.

“We’re going to make winter regardless of what Mother Nature hands us,” Sunday River spokesperson Darcy Morse told the Boston Globe yesterday. “We certainly hope that we get more natural snow, but I think that in times when Mother Nature tests what we can do, we had a really great season regardless of the lack of snow.”

Sunday River has invested more than $7 million in its snow-making system since 2007, and it now includes more than 2,000 snow guns. The resort’s ability to make snow allowed it to remain open last season from October until April, this despite the troubles that other resorts across the region faced.

This, plus the cold furnace currently blasting Siberia bodes well for the Northeast and you should be able to bury your nose early this season or get a table at Hyde in the Bellagio.

Either way.

Dearest crybaby brand… Let’s dance!

Turn that frown upside down and pour some sugar on me!

I have been a fly in surf now snow’s soup for the better part of fifteen years. I laugh and kick and poke and cajole and bop and twirl and laugh again. Oh it’s all part of my dance, baby, and I have the most anti-depressive fun ever but it’s a dance that enrages, every once in a while, and particularly enrages the brands.

Their feets just sometimes get in my way. Their Volcom Creedlers. And I stomp and laugh and grind and bounce and laugh again but the owners of the Volcom Creedlers are not amused. They are not having fun.

What do you think they do though? Do you think they shout at me? Do you think they scream, “Nobody is enjoying themselves except YOU, asshole!” Do you think they holler, “Get off the floor, prick!”


They don’t.

And here’s the craziest thing. I have never once in all my better part of fifteen years been called by a brand for laughing and poking and kicking. Not once. I sometimes hear through friends of friends of friends that such and such a brand is apoplectic or upset or hurt but nobody from the brand ever calls me.


And the flailing brands, the Volcoms, wonder why their sales are down through the floor and the dream is slipping from their grasp. We used to be outsiders all of us. We used to really and truly be against the establishment. We used to know, deep in our hearts, that what we did was not serious and that is exactly why we did it. We used to laugh and not be afraid to laugh even when other’s poked fun because we were all in on the same joke.

We used to step lightly.

Though no longer. Now dark and serious clouds fill the horizon. A Heavy and depressed march. Not reaching sales goals. Not matching market expectations. Stock prices slip, slip, slipping.

I will say, though, the brands lost their senses of humor long before they lost their sales.

So here we stand. Impotent rage boiling but never given release. A private gnashing of teeth. A public miscalculated failing.

But Mr. Brand Manager who refuses to call me, would you would permit me one small bit of analysis? The posted fun-making stories about you soar. Their traffic goes through the roof and do you want to know why? Because when you forgot who you were and chased a market that doesn’t exist your core consumer was left heartbroken and alone. So now he cheers for your demise. Now she mocks your failure. Now he shares stories stomping your Creedlers.

But it’s not too late! The heartbroken are only ever waiting for love to come calling again. For love to present a hand and loosen its hips.

The music is still playing, dear Volcom! Call me and let’s tango!

It’s anti-depressive!