On Wednesday's at school I have a huge gap between my first and second class (Almost 2 hours). During that gap today I decided to stop by Chick-fil-A for breakfast. I bought a Monster on the way also. I took my food and drink to the building (This building is nice and quiet and overall has a good atmosphere) where my next class is, started up my laptop, and began eating. Just then I realized I could probably live like this: Eating Chick-fil-A, drinking Monster, chatting with everyone on Modified, and playing footbag.
So, this would be my utopia (close). The only thing that would make it perfect is if I had other people to footbag with. Has anyone else had a kind of moment where you're just like, "I could live like this for the rest of my life"?
Your Utopia
Your Utopia
Brandin Sharp 
Sort of....
I moved to where i live right now about four years ago. I came from a landlocked county to a town by the sea and I loved the idea of having the beach so close but never really made much use of it until about 6 months in when I started going out and socialising more.
I suppose my utopia moment would have been a time when a group of maybe 20 of us were all gathered on an isolated area of the beach sometime in the late evening, some disposable barbecues on the go, everyone a few beers for the worst, and I was sat there with my girlfriend of the time laid head in my lap ( pauses for the obligatory sniggers
) just... well, chilling out. It was, and probably still is the most relaxed ive ever felt, anywhere, and now the idea of moving somewhere without a stretch of sand and sea really doesnt appeal to me.
I moved to where i live right now about four years ago. I came from a landlocked county to a town by the sea and I loved the idea of having the beach so close but never really made much use of it until about 6 months in when I started going out and socialising more.
I suppose my utopia moment would have been a time when a group of maybe 20 of us were all gathered on an isolated area of the beach sometime in the late evening, some disposable barbecues on the go, everyone a few beers for the worst, and I was sat there with my girlfriend of the time laid head in my lap ( pauses for the obligatory sniggers
) just... well, chilling out. It was, and probably still is the most relaxed ive ever felt, anywhere, and now the idea of moving somewhere without a stretch of sand and sea really doesnt appeal to me.
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BainbridgeShred
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hacksterbator
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Nice open area, neighborhood setting, everyone knows your name, late spring or early autumn weather, warm wind.
Hackrifice 10 had that feel-good feeling. Terra Verde in '07 was genuinely divine as well, and the hot weather, though unbearable to some, was tolerable for me to say the least.
Hackrifice 10 had that feel-good feeling. Terra Verde in '07 was genuinely divine as well, and the hot weather, though unbearable to some, was tolerable for me to say the least.
Waylon Lew - maker of Wasabi bags
NYFA represent.
"Footbag can be pretty frustrating when it's supposed to be fun. I was partly driven by this forum - practice, practice, practice... As that is true, I think someone can be too focused on progressing and training that they miss the fun aspect of it." - Bander87
NYFA represent.
"Footbag can be pretty frustrating when it's supposed to be fun. I was partly driven by this forum - practice, practice, practice... As that is true, I think someone can be too focused on progressing and training that they miss the fun aspect of it." - Bander87
I wake up, in that "My God this bed is comfortable" feeling. You know the kind, when on a fall night of a summer day, your bedroom temperature dipped into the shadows while your window let in the snores of chickadee's and crickets. You close your eyes tighter, wrap yourself for one emotionally gripping moment while you take in all there is within that last breathe...Just before your mind says "FHOOTPACK" and you realize that Anssi, Juho, Vasek, Johnny and Penske are coming out with a new video series, THAT morning. The sun gleams right on through your window curtains, and the smell of Vanilla makes a sensual stench, bearable to only me, wafting you to the fridge. One, large, condensation ridden mug of 3.25% milk later, I know today is the day. Today is the day I wear my favourite underpants, and get ready for the onslaught of footage ahead of me. Bacon is sizzling, the oven is at 475 F, ingredients for buttermilk biscuits were JUST made by none other than Ina Garten, the women who has mesmerized my stomach ever since that lonely afternoon at USO 2009. That's right, you know the one,
Once I insert the biscuits for 8 minutes, I glaze them with a bit of butter, and re-insert for an additional 3. Golden brown, texture like sun, in the air...yeah, that very song is playing somewhere in the streets of Wiesbaden Germany, where my shred life began. The biscuits would be ate alone, in the comfort of a large leather chair and a 40 inch screen. This moment is to be as kosher as new footage from Anssi, Juho, Vasek, Johnny and Penske would be, if it existed. The sun is now far warmer, as each ray actually makes my skin feel warm and cozy, and the steam from cracking open each biscuit feathers away in the air. "mah fizzied is opened with a single click, no double clicks in this world, and Jere's compilation of Bap 2.0 (Johnny skipped BAP, right to 2.0) players come out of the mirage of Death valley one by one, and have salt shred. Just as Ales would have wanted it to be.(Obscure facebook reference, to a picture caption anyone?)
The shred would start with the camera facing the depths of the salt desert, and briskly Juho would blurriest his way right across the screen in full sprint. The title would flash, fading effects would automatically dim my room into a theatre of Vanilla must, and destruction would begin. Epic battle, many a furrowed eyebrow, too many fingers wagged, and a deafening "The" would be called from Anssi the Accelerator, as Penske would fall to the ground, gasping for air. Quickly Anssi would wag his finger yet again at Juho, Johnny in two quick shots, as they would cower to their knees, and only Vasek would remain, super glue literally pulsing through his veins, of the rippled calves. Vasek would snort, and scrape his lavers across the salt while lowering his shoulders at Anssi, while Anssi would kick his feet to and fro, waiting for the challenge. They would then flurricane until exhaustion, and then one more. Johnny would slowly rise from the calamity ridden desert, and request "Snowflake", commonly known for Paradox drifer rake. Both would cock their eyebrows, while Anssi would shoot him down for the last time, and scoff at the innocence of their final trick. Both would fail, and crumble over their own stomachs in remorse, for such an easy sounding trick would be so tenaciously greedy. Juho, the master of badassery, would then hit the trick, into and out of gyro grifter, and rise victorious.
The biscuits would be cool, and I would be taken back from my gaze, and I would board my flight for worlds 2010, located in the motherland, Turku, creator of Fine Kebab. The airline stewardess' would all have exquisite calves, and serve nothing other than the most delicate of cuisine, Special K Vanilla Almond cereal with ice cold milk. Waiting at the airport would be Steve Goldberg, driving the pope-mobile with chain studded tires to the event site. Brand spanking new Black size 8 Gunits would be presented to me at the event site, on a wooden cutting board, and I would hit swifter->vortex*rpt, with ease. The Cleaver, Super, Destroyer, Golden Child, would all be having a grand old time, just playing in a casual circle with no feeling such as "I'm cool enough, to not play at worlds" and just enjoy kicking with no pressures at all. There would be the occasional passback, and no awkward chest bumps to ruin the atmosphere. I'd sit at a picnic bench, eat my Kebab, and feel the summer sun warm the area around my ears, and just watch the shred in front of me, knowing, that this was only the first day of worlds 2010.
Oh glory, that would be sweet. While it hasn't happened, I guess I'll have to settle for Worlds 2009, like Matt said.
Once I insert the biscuits for 8 minutes, I glaze them with a bit of butter, and re-insert for an additional 3. Golden brown, texture like sun, in the air...yeah, that very song is playing somewhere in the streets of Wiesbaden Germany, where my shred life began. The biscuits would be ate alone, in the comfort of a large leather chair and a 40 inch screen. This moment is to be as kosher as new footage from Anssi, Juho, Vasek, Johnny and Penske would be, if it existed. The sun is now far warmer, as each ray actually makes my skin feel warm and cozy, and the steam from cracking open each biscuit feathers away in the air. "mah fizzied is opened with a single click, no double clicks in this world, and Jere's compilation of Bap 2.0 (Johnny skipped BAP, right to 2.0) players come out of the mirage of Death valley one by one, and have salt shred. Just as Ales would have wanted it to be.(Obscure facebook reference, to a picture caption anyone?)
The shred would start with the camera facing the depths of the salt desert, and briskly Juho would blurriest his way right across the screen in full sprint. The title would flash, fading effects would automatically dim my room into a theatre of Vanilla must, and destruction would begin. Epic battle, many a furrowed eyebrow, too many fingers wagged, and a deafening "The" would be called from Anssi the Accelerator, as Penske would fall to the ground, gasping for air. Quickly Anssi would wag his finger yet again at Juho, Johnny in two quick shots, as they would cower to their knees, and only Vasek would remain, super glue literally pulsing through his veins, of the rippled calves. Vasek would snort, and scrape his lavers across the salt while lowering his shoulders at Anssi, while Anssi would kick his feet to and fro, waiting for the challenge. They would then flurricane until exhaustion, and then one more. Johnny would slowly rise from the calamity ridden desert, and request "Snowflake", commonly known for Paradox drifer rake. Both would cock their eyebrows, while Anssi would shoot him down for the last time, and scoff at the innocence of their final trick. Both would fail, and crumble over their own stomachs in remorse, for such an easy sounding trick would be so tenaciously greedy. Juho, the master of badassery, would then hit the trick, into and out of gyro grifter, and rise victorious.
The biscuits would be cool, and I would be taken back from my gaze, and I would board my flight for worlds 2010, located in the motherland, Turku, creator of Fine Kebab. The airline stewardess' would all have exquisite calves, and serve nothing other than the most delicate of cuisine, Special K Vanilla Almond cereal with ice cold milk. Waiting at the airport would be Steve Goldberg, driving the pope-mobile with chain studded tires to the event site. Brand spanking new Black size 8 Gunits would be presented to me at the event site, on a wooden cutting board, and I would hit swifter->vortex*rpt, with ease. The Cleaver, Super, Destroyer, Golden Child, would all be having a grand old time, just playing in a casual circle with no feeling such as "I'm cool enough, to not play at worlds" and just enjoy kicking with no pressures at all. There would be the occasional passback, and no awkward chest bumps to ruin the atmosphere. I'd sit at a picnic bench, eat my Kebab, and feel the summer sun warm the area around my ears, and just watch the shred in front of me, knowing, that this was only the first day of worlds 2010.
Oh glory, that would be sweet. While it hasn't happened, I guess I'll have to settle for Worlds 2009, like Matt said.
Jay Boychuk
Damn Jay, what an epic monologue!
Every single day I was in Germany for the 2009 WFM, and even after that when I stayed with Paul and shredded with the Berlin crew. I miss those times.
Every single day I was in Germany for the 2009 WFM, and even after that when I stayed with Paul and shredded with the Berlin crew. I miss those times.
Nick Landes
Proudly Representing Fourkast Footbag Co.
http://www.fourkast.com
Portland Blog
All the ladies love Matt Cross because Johnny Depp + Footbag = Matt Cross
Mastery is the combination of knowledge and practical experience
Proudly Representing Fourkast Footbag Co.
http://www.fourkast.com
Portland Blog
All the ladies love Matt Cross because Johnny Depp + Footbag = Matt Cross
Mastery is the combination of knowledge and practical experience