FYASKO CLOTHING – It's in the Odds

Johnny Weir continues to represent America. This monkey’s name is also Jonny. He actually needs to shave and would look damn good wrapped in a simple, yet classy, American flag scarf. You be the judge.

Yes, it seems another whale is being blamed for the tragedy of human idiocy. On Wednesday, Tilikum (yes thats right, not all whales are named “Shamu”) drowned his trainer. A KILLER whale KILLED a trainer. Extraordinary. As it turns out, this is not the first victim of this particular whale. Lets investigate:

Victim #1: Whale gets taken out of ocean and sent to Canada. Whale is pissed. Whale starts a whale gang and with the help of his first two initiates they drown their trainer. Whale is sent to Florida.

Victim #2: Whale still pissed. Man sneaks into park after hours. Man jumps in whale pool. Man dies.  Whale put into solitary confinement.

Victim #3: Whale’s only contact with other whales are  for breeding purposes, which is whenever the people at Sea World decide they want a new baby whale to indoctrinate with signals made by dead fish, because this somehow proves their intelligence. Whale then forced to preform cheap tricks during dinner theater for snot-nosed tots and their kook parents. Whale gets hit with one dead fish too many, realizes he is still pissed, grabs trainer by her braid and releases 12,000 lbs. of pent up whale rage. 

Victim #4: Whale. Now made a monster by the media, his fate floats high in the air. Death? Continued isolation? Certainly not freedom. 

Maybe we should apply some of this human compassion that everyone loves to talk about to this situation; if you were a whale that got ripped from your mother ocean by a strange biped alien race, put in a pool until your spirit was broken, then trained to respond to cues in a foreign tongue while more aliens laughed, pointed and threw dead fish at you,  you’d wanna f*ck some people up too. FREE TILIKUM!!!!!

See me with the children? I love (eating) children! I just want to swim without hitting my face against a glass wall!

For all our friends in LA, do yourself a favor and get in your car. What you do next is totally up to you but I’d suggest you go straight to Beach Mex and tell them you want a fish burrito (the one with fries) and a Negra Modelo. The salsa is quite spicy, so if you swing hard the gringo way better double the Modelo. 

And you thought they only existed in your dreams….

We went to the corner Donut Star for some Chinese  food and a man walked in wearing these. Said they helped his knees. Proceed with caution.

Fyasko is excited to announce that United Sports SAS/KG will be distributing Fyasko throughout Italy. For inquires, please contact Michael at (michael.v@unitedsports-it.com)

UNITED SPORTS SAS/KG
Via Buozzi Str., 12
39100 Bolzano/Bozen
Tel: 0039/0471/933500
Fax: 0039/0471/200450
Michael

This is a story. A story of a photo shoot for our Fall 2010 line. A photo story of a photo shoot for our Fall 2010 line on the day America celebrates it’s leaders past and present. A photo story of a photo shoot for our Fall 2010 on the day America celebrates it’s leaders past and present that took place in a white walled warehouse in the middle of South Central LA. Don’t be a menace while drinking your juice in the hood.

Happy President’s Day.

Die Antwoord: Straight outta South Africa and ready to do some damage.

Twice a year the entire “action sports” industry meets in the belly of the San Diego Convention Center to show off their newest wares. This is all just a big facade. In the Class arena, which is where the Fyasko booth resides, there were free drinks, a DJ and a barber shop booth featuring the studs from Barracuda.  I’m completely convinced the only reason this event exists is to get the entire industry liquored into a frenzy and see who can make the worst decisions and this year, I am the winner. After a full day of ASR madness followed by free drinks provided by the nice people at the Hard Rock led to me winning a bet by jumping in the rooftop pool fully clothed. Security was called, words were exchanged, and I was stripped of my wristband and escorted out into the frigid night air soaked and pants-less. 

Erica and Mike hard at work at the booth.

Break time in the parking structure: a serenade by Cindy!

Free martinis and a frozen ice luge?! Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!

I win.