I grew up near some of the grimiest parts of New Jersey sharing the streets with the dispossessed, the abandoned, and the self-oppressed, so there was an instinctual attraction to this sort of thing. If you were raised in a nice white bread sort of town with no color, I can't expect you to understand.
Seven, the 944kid, showed me two shots he took of this mutilated 944; I HAD to see it.
"where's this thing at?"
"I gotta try and remember where it was; I'll find it."
the final resting place of this old girl was a location I can't share with you; I gave Seven my word. what I can tell you is that this massacre wasn't in vain because it now serves a purpose — it supports a lifestyle of counter-culture...literally.
they've fused a half pipe to her back. she's become a semi-permanent fixture in a skater's park where she'll play host to hundreds of Mctwists, Rock and Rolls, and Axle Stalls while the overly ambitious will leave behind sacrificial traces of schraple on the way down.
how did it get there? one of the bros at the park told me that it belonged to an artist who donated her for the cause knowing she'd take the thrashing for being a symbol of oppressive capitalism.