Women’s intuition: can it benefit us all?

So often I keep my intuition inside the human-size inflatable performance art balloon of my mind. Because intuition can tell me something is not going to achieve the soaring heights of awesomeness I seek, and sometimes, you have to go over that bridge to madison county anyway.

I went to Garvanza last Friday night for some runs-n-buns. Good idea. Good friends with the names Jacob, Andreas and Brad. Ben Schroeder, who is a really warm and lovely dude, skated with us.

We skated the bowl. Andreas, whose ankle is still very much repairing from a brutal accident, dropped in the shallow end and got some runs in. It was a big deal (A, I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND ME SAYING SO), and all our stoke was high. A couple BMX dudes started riding the bowl in the middle of our sesh, and landing on their pegs on the coping. Everyone was bummed about it. I finally went over and said something along the lines of, “I know you guys are getting clips, and I don’t want to salt your balls, but you’re bumming us out by mashing the coping like that.” My feedback was not welcome. You might say the dude I spoke to wouldn’t even look at me. The guys are not locals (LOCAL TOWNIE ARREST SYSTEM ACTIVATED) and just didn’t seem to get the flow of the park or the people there. I went to skate elsewhere. I told a local biker dude, “You could teach classes on how to co-exist here. You’re so good at it.” He said, “Don’t make that guy angry. You won’t like what happens.”

THANKS. Way to threaten the 41-year-old woman talking to you. I can’t even run away because my sewing machine and crock pot are so heavy in my arms.

I told him, “I’m not responsible for anyone else’s actions. I’m a nice person, and that’s all I can do.”

So it’s pretty cool to feel afraid of some people at my local park. But I’m going anyway. You can’t let assholes rule the night. I don’t think that dummy even knew he was being threatening. I think he just thought that is something you say to women. Because he sure wouldn’t have said it to a dude. If I get in a fight, I might tip over on my big high heels and then get jabbed in the bone zone by my glitter-encrusted eyelashes. THEN who will vacuum the area rugs?? Men, well, their arms are just big Sawzalls. So they can duke it out and let the best biggest alpha dipshit win.

I don’t want to say I’m SPOILED to have so many sane, rad, intelligent humans of all genders around me. Isn’t that just what a person can have in the world? I guess I want to say I’m THANKFUL to know so many great people.

boom
BOOM

Sunday my friend Brad and I hit a few spots in a skateboarding way. We did a little Garvanza. We did a little backyarder. Why is there always a broken water pipe at a backyard sitch? Why always a broken wheelchair? Piles of boxes, discarded barbies never taken out of their original packaging. Except for the naked one at the bottom of the pool. The only usual thing I didn’t see was any feral cats with giant soft furry balls. As I type that I remember that Brad and I talked just about the fact of men’s balls and how it seems universally that they are considered kinda gross. Totally gross. Even among the people who actively sexually practice with them. Has anyone ever made a little ball curtain or ball skirt with a little elastic waist to hide them? Please don’t answer that.

One of the spots we skated Sunday included many adult men riding, and one of them had a 5-year-old son in the session. By “in the session” I mean that there were twenty adults skating, and one kid who jumped in the bowl between every single adult, and took long, lingering “runs” of going back and forth in a straight line. His mother was right there too. No one stopped him. Then one time when Brad was in the bowl, the kid threw his board in. We decided we were done. Really no reason to stay someplace where some kid is ruining the session and no one is saying anything.

We walked through the house and I got to hear the dad of the kid say, “Pool skating brings the real men out.” Brad pointed to me and said, “And women.” The guy didn’t notice. Just more blather about separating the men from the boys, which I think we know is only necessary in Catholic schools. BOOM! EASY JOKE! Bum out the guys who AREN’T pedophiles! Aw!

Sorry I got so Mars and Venus with this entry. I guess that is like saying, “sorry I wrote about my life.” So fuck that and scratch it. Like a big set of balls.