How did it feel to have Edwin shoot you with a roman candle back in the day?
I came out here (New York City) in 2005, pretty much to do that three at the Brooklyn Banks (sequence that ran in issue 50). My mom had gotten me a brand new jacket for the trip. I was over at The Shack, and Blackman told me to come check out the backyard. I went out back there, and had the brand new coat on. All I hear is someone getting lit up. I look behind me and it’s a roman candle; next thing you know, I’m getting shot at. I turned my back and covered my head with the coat. I get hit in the back. I took off the coat, and there is a big-ass hole in the back. (Laughter) It was the first two of the thirty days I was here.
What’s up with your new tattoo?
It’s an American Flag on my hand. Home of the brave.
Are you patriotic?
No, not at all.
You have quite a number of tattoos; what’s your favorite one?
I don’t think there is a favorite. They are all different.
What’s your worst one?
All of them. (Laughter) The back is pretty bad.
Edwin: I saw him when he first got it, in 2006. I went to Cali in 2006 with Tom and the normal crew. I saw Hoder there, and he lifted up his shirt and I seen that shit for the first time. It was sick. Number one, with his name on the back like a basketball jersey, but for life. You don’t even play basketball. (Laughter)
How about that crash in Philly around 2007?
I was just out doing whatever. I went to Philly to meet up with you (Rob). I tried to wallride this eighteen-stair. First one I landed, and blew off the bike. The second one I was pedaling as fast as I can to it. My chain breaks during the last crank before I went to hop; flipped over the bars, slid down all the stairs on my head. I put my hand on top of my head and I had burned hair off my head from sliding against the wall.
Ratkid: I thought you were dead. First time I ever thought I saw somebody die. Worst-case scenario.
It was seriously one of the worst crashes I had ever seen. You were in a scorpion position with your head in the corner, sliding against the wall the whole way down a flight of eighteen stairs.
I didn’t fuck up my face, no cuts; just burned the hair off my head and dislocated my knee.