I was at Santa Monica a couple weeks ago skating and was feeling bored.  So I decided to pop some tags in hopes to fill an empty void inside of my soul that only shopping, drugs, alcohol, women and the internet can temporary relieve.  Awesome!  I strut into “Wasteland” which is the elder to buffalo exchange.  They got a couple of em in LA.  I’m walking around sulking, and I run into these big old pointy perforated leather dogs.  

Now, mind you, I’d been in LA for around 4-5 days at this point and once you hit the one week mark, even Ed Hardy shirts start looking filthy.  So I try em on, and start walking around.  I spend the next 10 minutes looking at them in different mirrors, thinking somehow the light wasn’t hitting em right.  I could tell the hipster girls working their thought I was gonna mash out in em.  Getting self conscious around the 5th mirror I decided to ride with em.  The minute I got back to crib, I knew Los Angeles had gotten the best of me.  I made a mistake.   
For one, each shoe is pointed slightly outward, so it feels like you have the wrong shoe on the wrong foot.  This not only turns out to be extremely uncomfortable but it just looks retarded. Sneaky Pete (The name of the shoe) is an asshole for selling these dyslexic albino bananas to tourists who come to LA and become blindsided by overpriced ripped denim, bedazzled t-shirts, and shoes like these that are marketed to the modern metrosexual with an eating disorder and a haircut that belongs to someone with a vagina.  If you ever need to check more then 2 different mirrors to make sure the kicks are tight, walk away.  You’ll save yourself $34.99.  
When I got back to the town I sold em to billy the fridge for the $90.  He’s corner store Ed Hardy certified.  His bedazaldly gleaming snake skin of fire t-shirt gets the Yucky stamp of approval.  But only for the fridge.
  
Then every once and a while I come up with something mildly genius.  Jordan 5 lace locks on the vans…Yes, I know.  You should have thought of that.