The grubby cubicles and offices have cleared out. Our tormentors, those spastic, errant editors have hit the road for the winter-hot on the trail of the next big dump. We’re stuck here, knee-deep in a mess they left for dead on the editing-room floor. Send gas masks, mops, and mail to: The Angry Interns(tm) 353 Airport Road, Oceanside, CA 92054. Or e-mail us to say hi at: email@example.com.
A Gentle, Helping Hand
I purchased a K2 Fatbob board from Sport Mart. While riding at Mt. Seymour, I noticed my heelside edge was starting to delaminate. I brought it back and the technician at the store told me they’d warranty it. But a few days later the manager phoned me saying it now looked like there were impact marks on the edge and they wouldn’t replace it. They screwed me over. For money, I worked hundreds of hours babysitting two kids who have a cat that I’m allergic to. My life is based on snowboarding, and now I’m out for the season.
The old manager-calls-back-warranty-scam-it’s a crying shame. We should blast you for buying a board at a sports department store, but that’s mean. Or, we could call out these parents, who leave their kids in the care of a big-footed, teenage snowboarder, but that’s hurtful and weird. Instead, we recommend you get familiar with the epoxy-gun-oh, not like we have, but to fix your board. Our therapy sessions must be working. Good luck.
One Man’s Trash
If it weren’t for the fact that I’m getting a year of TW SNOW for free-thanks to the death of Snowboard Life-I’d rather be homeless, living out of a cardboard box, and eating garbage than read your insulting, arrogant trash. So much wasted paper! May you fire all your writers and finally end up as a winter-gear catalog for Sears.
You greasy little weasel, shut it. You should be humiliated-and exposed as the tube you are, for thinking we’d care to suffer your tiresome twaddle. Usually, we have important things to do-but lucky for you, we’re sitting around with our thumbs up our … mousepads.
Catch My Drift?
The terrain is flat and the snow is hard-we live north of the Arctic Circle in a small Inuit village called Barrow. We have no mountains or resorts within 500 miles. We’ve developed a new form of riding that’s a hybrid of snow and wake-we call it driftboarding. Throughout our nine-month winter, the snow blows around building up decent-sized snowdrifts, and we use snowmobiles and a towrope for riding kickers. Errors in judgement can lead to spine-compressing crashes-but we spend hours in below-zero weather doing this.
Nephi and Jesse
Man, those must be long days out on the icepack. The fact that you still live way up in Barrow says it all. By our estimation, only flagrant inbreeding could keep people up there. Why don’t you get the sled, the towrope, and your brother-cousin and driftboard down to civilization.
I love snowboarding. I bought a 40-dollar plastic snowboard two years ago. I’ve adjusted the stance to the biggest size, because it’s that small. Every time I go to a resort, I get a lot of crap from people-they think they’re better because they have their big Burton or Lamar boards. I’m going to buy a smaller company’s board-a lower quality one, and claim it. To those guys who have the expensive boards-watch out! A new ripper is coming through.
Grand Rapids, Michigan
Take the crap, Jimmy-you deserve it. You should be stoked that no resort-staff mooks at your local mountain have noticed you’re riding an edgeless, sketchy heap of toy-store trash down their trails. On that thing, you’ve got a better chance of “coming through” on a backboard.
I just moved to Plattsburgh State University from New York City for snowboarding. We’re about 40 minutes from Whiteface resort-it’s really good even though it’s icy all the time, it’s nicknamed “Iceface.”” I’ve been trying to get a job so I can buy a new snowboard-I filled out 50 applications, and no one will hire me, because I’m a student and go home for the holidays. So, I’m stuck up here with no money and no job.
Plattsburgh, New York
It’s a sad state of affairs when an eager college shred can’t even get an off-campus job for ramen-money. It’s hard to ride the ice when you can’t afford gas to get to the hill. We hear you loud and clear-out here, we scrape hard to live even a meager (embarassing) So Cal lifestyle. For style points, get a job as an intern somewhere, then apply for loans you don’t need and spend away. It works for us.