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Dear Thrasher: Adapted From a Letter to the Editor Printed in Thrasher Skateboarding Magazine, April 2003.BY SONYA HUBER
mag. It rocks, even though you guys print too many shoe ads. And what's up with the posers doing handrails? Don't they know real skaters do it in the street? Well, you know even skating the street sucks 'cause cops won't let us skate anywhere. But kids here know some killer secret pools and ditches. You would shit to skate the Blood Bowl—eats posers for lunch. Put the Blood Bowl in your ads. I got a serious beef, though—the ads with those skate-betty chicks standing in the street in thongs made me think you're all Cali posers! It makes me want to give up and screw this skate bullshit. I mean, God, why don't you sell your souls for cash, you know? I don't want to ride your asses—you know you rock my world even with the lame ads. It's like, I need a lifeline here, you can't imagine Rankin, Georgia—mullets, no street courses, one shitty skate park. I skate with four cool punks, try to steer clear of posers. We've got a big problem in Rankin with posers. I'm 12 and not stupid. I know guys here think us girls can't skate— That's crap! It's your fault. Running those ads makes idiots here think it's street last, clothes and babes first. It's on you. Guys even rape girls in the park crapper. You see a porta-potty shaking with a poser and a screaming chick inside, guys on the street high-fiving, whatever, it's gross, and I know this shit happens all over. So be cool and drop the ads. It's not about tits. Get on your board and skate. They're everywhere, you know, poser, thick-necked Fitch-bitches like in your ads. I don't want 'em. I lost my cherry to the street. I'll die or skate.
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