"Cleaned out the shed tonight and found a bunch of sporting shit. So, we taped some skis we found in there to our skateboards then taped roman candles on the front of the the skies to make like ski-board-cannons. Anyway, I’d never ride that shit- I’m not that stupid. But, RJ was willing. So, we got him up at the top of Christie Pitts near that crumbly death path and taped his feet around the skis and skateboards. I ran down the hill so I’d be in a prime photographing position then the guys lit the fireworks and pushed him down the path. At first I thought it was a bust as RJ was using the ski poles to get even more speed but then he was like mach 3 speed with the fireworks fucking exploding everywhere and it was the BEST shit I’ve ever seen. I nearly shit / pissed my soccer shorts from laughing so hard. It was so loud and every time the firecracker shot, RJ would almost lose his balance but he was actually taped in so he was contorting the way a cat does when you throw it out a window. Fuck, the contraption was a total success and RJ didn’t bail / die. We then hauled ass ‘cause I could hear sirens and I wasn’t getting arrested for this shit."
- Page 28 of Journal #6 (November 17th, 2001- July 17th, 2002)
"Friendship is about trust and loyalty, and sometimes you have to test it. Like RJ had to trust me when I told him to shove a firework in his asshole and light it, and had to believe me when I said he wouldn’t be hospitalized. Yes, the firework did slightly burn his ass cheeks and nuts upon ignition. However, it wasn’t ‘burns’ burns, just like it burned when the sparkler part was shooting on him. Plus, it looked really cool firing into Christie Pitts from the top of the hill. And, I did inspect his balls and ass area for bad burns because I trusted him as a friend not to fart in my face AND because I’m loyal like that. Friendship, right here. Proven."
- Page 30 of Journal #6 (November 17th, 2001- July 17th, 2002)
"I moved in with Mike and Stevil and we’ve been lighting off fireworks in the house. Mike fired some off in the washroom tonight and burnt his arm."
- Page 37 of Journal #7 (July 17th, 2002 - April 27th, 2003)