Interns 13#6

There have been numerous occasions when people make a complete mockery of our actions stemming from the belief: “What do those guys know, they’re just Interns‘?” Well folks, that’s correct; there is no hiding the fact that yes, we are indeed interns. But in turn (no pun intended), our current duties will reap rewards if real employment calls our name (where our futile, often monotonous efforts will be handsomely compensated). And let us tell you, that day better not be far from now. Do you know how boring it becomes to rip apart idiotic letters on a monthly basis? We might as well respond to every letter with, “Hey moron, why don’t you take a long walk into the woods and swallow some shit?” That would be a real hoot, wouldn’t it? Damn, just thinking about it makes us giggle. The mere thought of you actually walking in the woods and swallowing some poo is absolutely hysterical. Hah! How’s that for shit talking? But realistically, the aforementioned phrase, “What do they know … ” would probably enter your brain and stop your body from performing such a ridiculous act.

As previously stated, it’s obvious people don’t act on what we say, but let’s put the nagging question to rest–what do we know? Well, we have a pretty firm grip on something called music and how people love its presence. People also love musicians. In fact, certain individuals lose complete bodily control when their favorite rock star recites their lyrics into a microphone. Think we’re wrong about this? What about the stardom of Vanilla Ice, that shaved-eyebrow nimrod with a flavor for cheese? That’s right, your sorry ass probably paid 45 dollars to see him live (in full glory) and yap about car engines containing a cylinder rating of 5.0. Wow, you must’ve felt really stupid after that one!

So, with that stated, we’ve decided our responses might be appreciated if we camouflage them with annoying but “meaningful” song lyrics. And hopefully, you’ll see a line from your favorite tune. Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize our worthiness and promote us into a higher skilled position where our Intern‘ status can be left far behind, like, uh, say, dust in the wind. Hey people, did you catch that “Dust In The Wind” lyric? Those were our first words of wisdom. And who else, but the legendary Kansas, could have helped us out with that? Rock on!

Hey, I’m a thirteen-year-old girl who loves to snowboard. I’ve got to admit I’ve only gone five times, but that’s all it takes. Man, I can carve and jump everything. I’m not bad, really I’m not. Every time I go snowboarding I always make friends at the hills and they’re like professionals. They just teach me stuff like tricks. It’s awesome. So, if you’re a beginner just ask for advice and they’ll tell you 99 percent of the time. I guarantee they’ll give you advice.

C’ya later. Awesome.

K2snowrulz@juno.com

You talk like you know it all. Well then, how do we get advice when the “99 percent of the time” fails? What about that one percent when we really want to learn how to do a switch-tail-snatcher, and no one will tell us the correct method. Speaking of methods, do you know how to do them? It sounds like you’ve been meeting a lot of professionals, and every pro likes to milk the method. Speaking of pros, we must warn you about their manipulative skills when it comes to hanging around females. Just think of that famous song you hear during the holiday season, “Santa Claus is coming to town … HO! HO! HO!”

 

Just wanted to air out a pet peeve. Answer me this: how do all those soda bottles and beer cans get under the liftline? I can’t believe there are still assholes who pitch their shit on the slope Same goes for candy wrappers and cigarette butts. When the season is done, I’d hate to find a hill of trash. Talk about total disrespect. Next time you’re on the summit, remember to look around and see the beauty that is our one and only earth. And if you’re that ignorant mother f–kin’ litter bug, apologize to mom and promise to never do it again. For those in the know, it’s our duty to educate these bums. A little “pick up your trash before I stomp your ass” rhetoric–you may choose to be a little more polite. Keep our slopes styling. Peace-Nix.

Lnuslad.hz16mk@gmeds.com

How do you think the phrase “cigarette butts” got started? Cigarettes don’t look anything like a butt, and it seems kind of kinky to use such a word to describe something you just finished smoking. Personally, we’re sick of it. We should “stomp out this nonsense,” and single-handedly squeeze the anus of anyone using the word butt to describe a cancer stick. As for the litter, well, have you ever heard of the Grateful Dead (actually, we bet our butts you’re a hippie, so that’s a pretty stupid question)? Anyway, as the butt-smoking Jerry Garcia used to sing, “Every silver lining’s got a touch of gray … ” That about explains it.

 

I was looking through the February 1999 issue and I came across two spelling errors on page 54. You spelled snowboarding without an “I,” twice. I don’t mean to nag, but I don’t want other readers to think you guys are illiterate. This is a good quality magazine, and I’d hate for it to get a bad rep, so keep on your toes. By the way, the weather in Alaska is excellent! I went up to Valdez once this year on my old GNU Dukester. It was pretty cool. It made me mad, though, because I went to jib and my board snapped! So, if anyone out there has a 150 freeride board for sale, please drop me a line. Thanks a lot.

Jason Heaton

Mgd183@hotmail.com

Ever since you told us to, we’ve been on our toes. Although it seems rather harmless, our doctor tells us if we continue to stay on our toes, we’ll develop asymmetry of the spine. Over time, our backs will radically twist and bend the nerve endings. This will cause uncontrollable spasms and severe aches on the surrounding bones. All of this, because some editor overlooked a couple “I”s in snowboarding. Well Jason, here’s your “I”s. First one, “I Love Rock ’N’ Roll” (Joan Jett). Second one, “I Love Rocky Road” (Weird Al Yankovich doing Joan Jett). Hey Jay, we know what you’re thinking, you’d do Joan Jett, too!

Just to tell you how much your magazine rocks, I’ll tell you a story. It’s Friday night and there’s a party at this chick’s house. My friends and I take my dad’s new van to the grocery store. I decided to bring along the January ’99 issue of TransWorld, which I left on the dash. When I came out, some little shit broke the front window. Nothing was stolen except for the magazine. Guess the little shit was too f–king lazy to go out and buy one himself. Hope you enjoy it, you little bastard. You guys rock.

Pam from Edmonton, Alberta

Randyu@direct.ca

How’d you know the shit who stole your magazine was little. It could have been a huge shit. It could have been so huge that upon seeing it’s gigantic appearance, you would have backed off and let the huge shit go ahead and steal your magazine. Then you and your buddies would have gone back to the party and told the chicks the story about the huge shit who stole your magazine. And, when your dad finally questions the broken window in his new van, you’d respond with, “Dad, I swear, it was the hugest shit I’ve ever seen!” Skeptical about your response, and assuming his child is thoroughly hungover, he’d take a step into the van and respond with a line from his favorite Nirvana song, “Smells like teen spirit … “

 

I live in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. There’re a few snowboard hills around here. This is a pointless letter. Uh, burp. I can never get those damn free posters out of your mag without ripping the poster. You should do something about this. You know your mag is a bit cheaper if you buy it at the stand than subscribing, but you don’t get a beanie or tool. I told you this was pointless. Bye.

Lee Froese

Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Have you ever seen a professional snowboarder ride their snowboard? Well, when they perform for an audience, and enter “the groove,” onlookers are often heard saying, “That dude rips,” or “That guy is ripping apart this pipe.” See what we’re saying, Lee, ripping is often a good thing–like, that poster rips! Also, if you want to score with the ladies, put on side two of Led Zeppelin IV, or try the 1987 hit single from comedian Eddie Murphy entitled the “Butt Song.” Watch out for the lyric, “put a little man in your butt, hey, put me in your butt.” That’s sure to put any lady into the right mood.

Mr. Postman, look and see. If there’s a letter, a letter for weee. Mr. Postmaaan. Send in your favorite line of lyrics and prove to us just how much you know. The AngryInterns¿, 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or try and jack up our fax paper bill at (760) 722-0653. For the computer-literates, e-mail: angryinterns@twsnet.com.

is thoroughly hungover, he’d take a step into the van and respond with a line from his favorite Nirvana song, “Smells like teen spirit … “

 

I live in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. There’re a few snowboard hills around here. This is a pointless letter. Uh, burp. I can never get those damn free posters out of your mag without ripping the poster. You should do something about this. You know your mag is a bit cheaper if you buy it at the stand than subscribing, but you don’t get a beanie or tool. I told you this was pointless. Bye.

Lee Froese

Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Have you ever seen a professional snowboarder ride their snowboard? Well, when they perform for an audience, and enter “the groove,” onlookers are often heard saying, “That dude rips,” or “That guy is ripping apart this pipe.” See what we’re saying, Lee, ripping is often a good thing–like, that poster rips! Also, if you want to score with the ladies, put on side two of Led Zeppelin IV, or try the 1987 hit single from comedian Eddie Murphy entitled the “Butt Song.” Watch out for the lyric, “put a little man in your butt, hey, put me in your butt.” That’s sure to put any lady into the right mood.

Mr. Postman, look and see. If there’s a letter, a letter for weee. Mr. Postmaaan. Send in your favorite line of lyrics and prove to us just how much you know. The AngryInterns¿, 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or try and jack up our fax paper bill at (760) 722-0653. For the computer-literates, e-mail: angryinterns@twsnet.com.