Ask Not What GoPro Cameras Can Do For You, Ask What You Can Do For GoPro Cameras

Ask Not What GoPro Cameras Can Do For You, Ask What You Can Do For GoPro Cameras


The best ideas are the ones that can leave you in a flaming pile of bones and rubble at the bottom of a cliff, but don’t. If a plan can’t go spectacularly wrong, then it really isn’t worth doing. No risk leads to no reward, which leaves you with no fun. Of course, there are some things that I wouldn’t recommend doing. I wouldn’t jump off the Eiffel Tower wearing a home-made parachute, and I wouldn’t eat at Arby’s if you drove up to my house with a dump-truck full of 100-dollar bills. Some things are all risk, no reward, and in the case of Arby’s: prolonged, agonizing death. At least jumping off the Eiffel Tower will put you out of your misery quickly.

Personally, I probably wouldn’t have driven off the side of the mountain with a parachute duct-taped to my snowmobile, but to each their own. It went well, so I can’t judge — and if it didn’t go well I wouldn’t judge anyways, because that was some butt-puckering action. I know that Finland isn’t exactly the happiest place on Earth, but you’d think the Finns would have a greater sense of self-preservation.

I suppose driving a snowmobile off a cliff is a lot more appealing than living in a lot of places in Northern Europe, but surviving a stunt like this must be immensely disappointing because when you land you’re still in Finland.

Gotta Go Fast. Gotta Go Really Fast

Gotta Go Fast. Gotta Go Really Fast


I don’t understand, why are they turning right? They seem to be making a slight left turn first and then a right; why are they doing that? I can’t think of any reasonable explanation for why they make both left and right turns. I know the Europeans do some weird stuff, but a track with multiple different turning directions is absurd. I mean, they call soccer football, and football American football, but this is crossing the line. They’re breaking international laws of some kind. We sorted this all out after we curb-stomped Fritz in WWI. No more large armies, no more invading France for giggles, and no right turns.

If I wasn’t so appalled by their lack of respect for everything good in the world I’d almost be impressed. They are going awful fast, and I like things that go fast. If right turns weren’t a crime against man and nature I’d say F1 racing was pretty darn cool. I’d like to see those babies make a few more left turns, though. Get them on a proper speedway, and then we’ll talk. I bet they’d really like the bits where they turn left, those are my favorite.

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round


The Red Bull is strong with this one. Not only does he go down a slope without falling down, he spins around without falling down. He’s the one we’ve been waiting for. He makes Shaun White look like Carrot Top in a frock. He’s ascended to the point where he doesn’t need a snowboard anymore. If he really felt like it he could just levitate down the side of the mountain, but he likes to leave the board on because the weight presents a bit of a challenge.

The depth and speed of his pseudo-pirouette makes grown men weep and women cry out in anguish. If he took up ballet it wouldn’t be gay, because he was doing it. If I knew anything about snowboarding I’d give a much more detailed commentary, but I don’t, so this is the best I can do. If he got any cooler, he’d freeze on the spot and become one with the slope.

Tapout: The Official Attire Of The Anti-Borderline Boy

Tapout: The Official Attire Of The Anti-Borderline Boy

(Warning:  salty language — all these flavors and you had to be salty?)

I’ve been told that I dress like a dad, but that can’t be true because my dad never dressed this good. I find that I dress like more of a grandpa, but that’s besides the point. Every day I wake up, shower, throw on whatever is first in my closet, and then continue with my day. It’s not really a process I have to think about or pay much attention to because I know that whatever I put on it’ll be fine — nothing I own had Tapout written on the front. I could throw on plaids and stripes and it would be better than a Tapout t-shirt. I could wear nothing but ass-less chaps and it would be better than Tapout attire. I’d rather show the world my soft, white buttocks than project an image of profound dickbaggery.

This might not be the case everywhere, but in my town every man wears jorts, mandels, a Tapout t-shirt, and drives a pickup truck with little brass balls hanging off the back. Now you can see where my animosity for Tapout stems from. I’m sure they’re all very nice people, but if I see another Tapout shirt, pickup-truck, mandel combo I’m going to — er — do something nasty.

I don’t have the heart to rip the shirt off their back and burn it in front of them, but I do have the heart to slash their tires. That’s not a threat it’s just an observation. A threat would be that I’m going to buy Tapout t-shirts and give them to all my friends, because the NSA ranks that on the same level as a chemical-weapons attack on a major city center.