nah it was outside near the basketball court, i have the pic its pretty toy but do u want me to post it.. u know it
Hahahahah as someone whos looking at tens of thousands of dollars in fines,whos homie is in jail,whos home was raided,whos been on house arrest for almost the last three months,whos license is suspended,AND STILL knows that things could be much worse - -You sound mad weak. This is a full contact sport so dont bitch when you get a few bruises. If your not cut out for this then move on,you havent paid ANY dues fetus.fucking babydeerfawn. fuckin infantile seatortoisemuthafucker. Preadalescent hatchling. babylarva. Juvenilewhelpfuck.
This is a story of a ignorant 16 year old who vandalized his school. Not a graffiti story. I know a 12 year old with more knowledge than you. If you want a real graffiti story pick up DONDI WHITE!
aiight, i didnt read shit all comments in this. i may later. but most will probably be lame. heres my story, im gonna say it as if yall give two shits. im sittin in my homies house on mushrooms. were trippin the fuck out. watchin familar guy. i do no tknow if this is the same night the idea ofgraffiti was planted in my head ornot. it was within weeks at least. im buggin the fuck out. my homies like yo, you went gray. you aiight? i say to him. yeah, im great, im gonna check myself in the mirror. i go to stand up and i walk out the room an i recall lookin at him with a devilish smile. slamming the door three times and collapsing on the floor. he opens the door and grabs my wrist. pulls me inside the room and it felt as well as me having a visible scarring to my brain of him pulling me one dimension to another. literally one frame (me being on the floor in a dark hallway) to another frame (his light room where the TV and florescent lighting is. sofas, computer desk and bong). i go to the window as hi smom walks in to ask about the loud banging agains the wall (my head) was. after this scenario. he asks if i wanna start graffiti because itll get me many girls. i agree and we sketch lousy throw ups for the rest ofthe night. weeks later, were painting our lousy throwings all over town. particularily in the south end. were doing good damage. gettin ahead of ourselfs. figuring hell. we crushed the entire east end. were good. we reach a sound barrier for the light rail our city has. drunk off a 26 of jack. we start painting. we probably reach a kilometre of hollows before we ignore our intuiton. "i heard something" i said. "fuck it, it was probably a rabbit" my homie says. i reluctantly agree with him and continue painting. before i knew what happened. 6 cops jump out the bush circling us with LED lights in our faces. my homie throws his cans at the cops on some "what the fuck just happened, i didnt have that paint" type shit. i slowly succumbed to defeat. realizing 6 cops half encircling us against a wall.. there was little chance of escape. this was our 3 week into graffiti. i decided to spend the next few months sketching and dealing with my court case (a mischief [vandalism] over $5000) from that night. once i had established a decent straight letter and came the month of april. i decided id spring out into built up action and aggression from the night i was caught as well as suppressed anger from previous periods of my life. it was my point of revenge against the world. i smashed out my first billboard. i returned the next day to flick it. entirely dumbfounded on the extent of what my anger produced. i was flabbergassed. i had created a beautiful monster. nothing as horrible felt as great in my eyes. it was the start of the end. months had passed and i had only gotten worse. rather than painting billboards in the booneys that my parents had resided. i had moved into the city to cause mayhem and destruction. billboards, rooftops and overpasses were at the yield of my command. racking the entire year with another homie had supplied me tools to destroy for an entire summer. we would go in weekly to snatch up 25-35 cans of paint for the week. never an issue. mean muggin cashier who looked at us sideways. dozens upon dozens of billboards and overpasses were destroyed whille i quickly made a name for myself that year. it wasnt long before i had my city askin who the fuck i was. it wasnt until november that year. i got bagged again catchin a tag. eatin a poutine at my homies spot, askin. "why the fuck does it seem like so many cops are rollin the hood today?" as i paid for my shit an dipped out. i didnt make it a block before 3 cruisers rolled on me an told me to stop movin im under arrest. an entire poutine an wings an a large shit in my stomach. i was going nowhere. the cops grabbed me an threw my face into a cruiser. breaking my glasses while elbowing me in the back of the head. actin hard. unfased, i turned to em talkin mad shit. act equally as hard. it didnt get me anywhere. as they laughed at the person ive decided to become, i slowly suppressed my anger. telling myself. ill be in just for a night or two. they ve started a battle they wont win... i spent the next few days in jail. when i was released it was mid november. too cold for my northern canadian city to paint. at the time. i was not as dedicated as i would soon become. i spent the winter sketching and painting sub-par burners. i developed a current style of letters i have. not the greastest, but good enough i could rock illegal burners that would burn many with great simplicity. i used this to my advantage. being edgy enough to do "Crazy" spots with ease. i would pull these burners off on live spots. somethign my city never really saw to me. granted, living in a city of only a million people. not many things were seen in terms of graffiti other than fantastic styles long before me. but that was not what i aimed for. i had a talent. my talent was painting crazy shit with good straight letters in a spot deemed only acceptable for a hollow. i soon surpassed what people had expected of me. they had expected me to get bagged an fall the fuck off like it was some habitual side hobby i couldnt care less about. little did they know. i had just started.. it had only been a year and a half... my second year wasnt much to boast till sepetember. during the summer, i had moved out with a couple homies for my first time. we held a spot down for the summer. ironically 2 doors down from the main police headquarters in our city. i hadnt done too much that summer, since i it partying. meeting new people, new writers. that being said. i had met a very reptutable subway/clean train writer who had come to my city to seek our our light rain tranist train. i met him at our lousy graffiti/hiphop store. we asked me where a main wall in our city was. i gladly showed him, thinking nothing of it. casually showed him a burner i had done and casually talkin like nothing, figuring he was another toy to visit. he soon started asking perculialar questions. "where is the o-line? do you wanna show me it?" figured, what the hell. probably another train fanatic, like myself. i showed him. we rode the short 15 minute ride from north to south. he soon started asking with a glimmer in his eye. "where do they keep the trains overnight?" the immediate first thought i had was "ahh shit, this ***** aint serious!" but he was. i told him. he listened. i immediatly said after telling him. he was gonna smash the train out, i wanted to be in. i had never met anyone with the balls to do it. i was tantalized with the thought. he agreed.
i went home, told my room mate and homies that i had met up with this cat. upon mentioning his name. they were astounded that i had met this individual. i hadnt realized he had quite a reputable image he had set for himself. i was quite happy with the chance of luck i had gotten. we chilled and later on that night i had recieved a call from him. telling me he was ready for the night in which layed ahead. we decided to meet up. we were both exicted for what was ahead of us. we reach the yard. and scoped the spot out from in between tankers and lines. t-shirts over our faces. ready to rush the spot. but we stayed patient. walked the area from a distance to see weak points in the stronghold we faced. not caring about the walls we see. we ran the fence. hopped the barbed wire like it aint shit. few cuts on hands. but nothing to notice, nevermind be concerned of. we ran the north side of the building. seeking a short cut. but ran into nothing. we reached back to the spot we came from when a worker inside the building had dropped a wrench or tool or sorts creating a loud "clanging" noise of sorts. i had initially bugged the fuck out an went to dash thinking it was a bell. upon slipping on gravel the homie told me to chill the fuck out. his words were like ice cubes to a strained nerve. aka. they worked well. we reached the south side where a train layed up. we ran up on it, and without question we grabbed our cans to paint. we asked who was painting which side. which went uninformed as we mixed up who was on what side. but regardless, that isnt important. we painted our quick burners. (mine had turned out lousy extremely lousy to the astro fats i had used which clogged immediatly and turned to more or less skinny caps for a fill) and we were out. we copped a bus home where we spent the night. he had chilled. i went out and painted another spot. a couple months later, upon the lease being expired. my room mate said he had a connect in montreal were a friend of his (also an extremely reputable writer who was up and coming) was willing to move in. we all moved in and me and him hit it off instantly. talkin chillin an him showing me around the city. a few months later my hometown homie had moved back to deal with reasons he had to deal with while me and homeboy from montreal were dealing with an eviction from our tenant. we quickly found a new place in the south end of downtown and kept on with whats good. many good spots were hit while i had lived in montreal. one in particular was with another homie from montreal. we had scaled a balcony, then climbed a pipe onto a rooftop to hop onto another rooftop to stand on a one and half foot ledge, 5 stories above the street, to paint straight letters on a completely illuminated glass tower. security in the same building monitering cameras. alas, no camaeras where in the area we were. we painted this spot with ease. as we were halfway through filling. we had people from balconys across the road screaming at us. telling us to hurry up!! another group from another balcony screaming we were criminals! we finished, made it down and back to my place before anything had happened. halfway home sirens were filling the air. my room mate had gotten home an hour later. sayin "yo theres like 5 cruisers on the corner of _____ and _____ (a main instersection in the city)" we told him it may be because of us. he laughed and went out to cop some flicks.
the rest of my time in that city was filled with minor hits and casual alcohol filled nights. one in particular, i recall drinking 5 40 ounce bottles of blue 7.1. i had then fucked off while a homie was watching 'the adventures of orgasimo boy' or some shit. i had stood on some ledge of an off ramp 30 feet over barbebd wire to tag. on complete ice. to catch a fuckin crew tag! that barely showed when i got down! i soon moved back to my original town. in which i spent the next year high on drugs such as cocaine, mdma, and lsd. as low of a point as it may have seemed. i regret none of it. because every day was enjoyable to a point i may never experience againt. there were many events tha had happened between getting high. many highway signs to get painted. filled in straight letters. but unfortunatly my buzz to reciprocate my life story over the past 4 years is now gone. and im gonna cut the story short an fuck off now. sorry for polluting the thread. youre welcome if i had entertained you. i had just say the thread title and with my current buzz on 6 tallboys an two bottles of wine. i felt like spend 45 minutes to tell you folks about me. hopefully it wasnt in vain. if you read my shit, my gratuatis thanks! peace and love
cool story bro nah lol jk, twas very interesting but waaay too fuckin long lol, why you no say the alias/tag name of the ***** you painted the o-line with? I guess it don't really matter...stay up *****
is where I stopped reading because I realized you dropped out of school before you learned any correct grammar. Then I realized you didn't even use a period so I laughed my ass off at someone like that calling me stupid.
LMAO ii thought it was preetty good story but your stilla dumbasss ahahah my story: i started wittign at the age of 9 on paper jsut cause my big brother started bombing new orleans, i kept it on paper till 08 i was writting KORE504 and i moved to venezuela, i had a beef with this other KORE adn so we beefed when i was getting out of the stop some asshole stops me and said "are you doing graffiti ? " i (of course ) said "no"and tried to walk away so he stops me and puls out a magnum my balls hit the sole of my shoes and raised my hands he was a fing cop he hand cuffed em and threw me against a wall i was f ing scared, so yea, he took me to the stacion for some strange reason they didnt press charges ( i was crying) they thought they scare of the life time they gave me was punishment enough hahah so i got a ride to my hood and let me go (naked) and i walked home ahahah my mom fucked me up and i went the next night to check what i did and i got a call from a privet number saying "***** i will kill you if you go over me one more time, get teh fuck out of my life and give the name up"i said no and the next morning i got a knok on my door ( i finaly met KORE) some miget was looking for me and we got in a fight ummmm he fucked me up ive nevverrr seen a miget kick box before and i got a new name and i started paintitng it this last year SKINA ONE