14#3 Angry Interns&#137

All right, after a brief hiatus we’re back to our normal, non-caring, politically incorrect, blasphemous selves. No longer will we give a rat’s ass about what’s going on in the real world; after all, we haven’t left our cubicles for six months. Staying true to form, your letters this month are coming up short. We can’t even understand why you would waste the 33 cents on a stamp to send us this garbage. Next time do us a favor: just send a blank piece of paper. We’re almost positive it would be more entertaining.

Gs Up, Hos Down

Okay, first of all I would like to say your mag rocks! Keep shooting photos of all the hot pros. However, the reason I’m writing this letter is because I’m confused. I started boarding three years ago, and honestly it was because of all the hot guys. I mean, what better way to meet someone–dress in my cute little outfit and smile, and they all came rolling in.

Now, I love boarding like no other and have gotten quite decent at it, but all the guys have disappeared. Some of my guy friends tell me it’s because I intimidate them with my “mad skills.” Well, all I have to say is, get over it, damn it. I want some men, real men. Just because there’re girls out there with talent doesn’t mean all the guys have to go run and hide. Come find us. Most of us are out there to impress you anyway, or at least we started out that way.

Candice Kistner

Auburn, California

Candice, first of all, our mag does not rock–it kicks ass. Just like that “Girls Kick Ass” sticker you’ve got stuck on your high school locker. Second of all, the Angry Feminist Interns‰ were not the least bit impressed with your letter. In fact, they wanted to hunt you down and burn you at the stake. However, we Male Chauvinist Interns‰ found the letter quite refreshing and were pleased to read there are still girls like you amongst the hordes of radical women’s rights activists taking up the sport. There’re quite a few “men, real men” down here at the office who are not the least bit intimidated by a girl such as you who is blessed with “mad skills.” Maybe you can come down and demonstrate them on us.

Hippie-Kye-Yay

A couple days ago I was at the top of my favorite jump in Massachusetts. There were a couple guys watching who looked like they were about sixteen. I hit the tabletop and stomped a clean method. I looked back, and the guys were clapping! I felt really good because I’ve only been boarding a year (I’m only thirteen). Later that day I saw a bench with a ramp up to it. I’ve never done a “jib,” but I decided to anyway. I got the hang of it after a while. I then tried a boardslide, which I completed with a 180. I was stoked! And who was behind me? The same boarders, clapping. After an hour I started to become friends with them and realized, to my disbelief, snowboarders are really nice and not just stoned hippies.

Ben DeCamp

Loudonville, New York

Like, hey man, are you dissing hippies? Maybe you didn’t know, but all the Interns‰ are a bunch of hippies–the most tired, smelly, and dirty damn hippies you’ve ever seen. And we’re mad, too, man. We got busted by the cops at the last Phish concert and part of our probation is to be Interns‰ at TransWorld. Man, if we wouldn’t get in trouble for violating parole, we’d hunt you down, dowse you with patchouli, and tie-dye all your clothes. Thank god we only have five more issues left before we can go back to selling hemp jewelry in parking lots.

Stuck In The Stone Age

Your magazine’s cool–don’t get me wrong, but you need more articles on places to board. I need places to ride, and if I can’t find out about them, I won’t know where to go. I’m sorry if I’ve pissed you f, but I would like to see this happen. Your magazine kicks ass.

Andrew Renshaw

Yucaipa, California

There’s this thing out there called the Internet, and on the Internet is an enormous amount of information on just about every subject you could ever imagine. Anything from how to catch a corbina on a white and olive Clouser to the fastest and cheapest way to import a Russian wife. Anyone with half a bit of intelligence would know to look there. If you’d been paying attention to our mag instead of picking the lint out of your butt, you would have noticed the Spot Check column that profiles a different resort each issue. And if that isn’t enough to fill the void in your head, TransWorld also puts out the Resort Guide once a year. Andrew, it’s completely normal for you to feel like an imbecile about right now.

Don’t Be Stupid

Last weekend I went on my first outing of the year. Feeling crazy, I decided to start the day off with some huge air. Due to some illegal difficulties, I forgot what I was doing right in the middle of a 360 method. I then fell hard and dislocated my shoulder.

After rushing to the lodge, I was informed I would not be able to pull off any more runs for the rest of the day. I then ran out in a raging fury and tried again. After an hour of pain, I attempted a four-foot railslide and snapped my brand-new Sims Hex. It was a cryin’ shame.

Matt Wyns

Niagara Falls, Ontario

Admitting that you partake in illegal activities probably isn’t the smartest thing to do in a letter you send to a magazine. In fact, it’s probably one of the dumbest things you could ever do. Especially when the people who open and read the mail here are covert spies, trained to sniff out numbskulls like you and report them to the proper authorities. According to them, the RCMPs just loved your letter and said you’ll be cryin’ from shame if you accidentally drop the soap in the shower.

Depends On You

I just wanted to tell you that your mag is my only link to the outer world. I’m in study hall, but I wish I was at the mountain sliding a rail or sailing over a phattie-boom-batty jump. Instead, I’m stuck here looking at all the awesome pics and practically drooling. I’m about to go insane wishing for that wettish feel you get in your clothes and undies when you’ve been out in the snow too long or the agonizing trip up the lift to the very top, waiting to slide. But no, I’m stuck here, on my ass, in stupid study hall.

Another thing I want to point out is that I miraculously happen to be a girl, and I’m really getting annoyed at all of the man-boarders thinking they’re so much better than us. Girls kick ass. Thanks for your time. Keep up with the sweet mag.

Kelsey Wagner (Age Fourteen)

Oregon City, Oregon

Since you’re only fourteen, we won’t overanalyze this letter, mainly for fear of the legal ramifications in doing so. However, being stuck in study hall is way better than being stuck in this dump. You see, our undies, too, are wet. Not from snow, but ’cause our bosses won’t let us take a break from work long enough to use the bathroom.

Robin The Cradle

What’s in a name? This overly used cliché means a lot when you consider what your silly hippie parents named you back in the day. Even if your parents weren’t silly hippies, how were they to know what name would best fit their funny-looking little baby? Most parents pick names while babies are still hanging out in ma’s belly. What’s up with that?

Anyway, I went through childhood being a boy named Robin. I respected that I had a different name, even though I was told a thousand times it was a girl’s name. I was just thankful my name wasn’t Rainbow or some real wack hippie stuff my parents were considering. Even though I liked the name through childhood, it didn’t make the connection until I got to be out of my teens. Since then, some of the boys call me Cradle–it just makes me laugh. I fell hard for a sweetheart this past summer and she’s a couple years younger than me, so my boys call me Robin the Cradle now more than ever.

Robin

Boulder, Colorado

Wow, Robin, you truly are an idiot. I’m sure everyone who read your letter is much more stupid now. Thanks for using up what little bit of intelligence our readers had left.

If you got something to say, besides why you think the Angry Interns‰ are the dopest people on the planet, go ahead and mail it our way. Send letters, gifts, or pictures of your siblings to: The Angry Interns‰ 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or you can send your hate mail via the Internet: angryinterns@twsnet.com

hrough childhood, it didn’t make the connection until I got to be out of my teens. Since then, some of the boys call me Cradle–it just makes me laugh. I fell hard for a sweetheart this past summer and she’s a couple years younger than me, so my boys call me Robin the Cradle now more than ever.

Robin

Boulder, Colorado

Wow, Robin, you truly are an idiot. I’m sure everyone who read your letter is much more stupid now. Thanks for using up what little bit of intelligence our readers had left.

If you got something to say, besides why you think the Angry Interns‰ are the dopest people on the planet, go ahead and mail it our way. Send letters, gifts, or pictures of your siblings to: The Angry Interns‰ 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or you can send your hate mail via the Internet: angryinterns@twsnet.com