Thrill Side!

Friday after work I headed to this bike beat shop to talk some business.

After that as I drove down 98th doing bout 50 and hungry I spotted Snow-E Woods and his girl at the Pupusa spot. I always wanted to try them so I pulled over and ordered 2 of them G thangs.

Great view.

I bounced up out of there and later on that night went to play pool with Frisco and them.

At 3am while you were sleeping, Dartnell , Names and I headed to Wood’s house, threw bout 8 pattys on the grill and chopped it up around the bonfire.


Fast forward to Saturday at Gaksoe’s house we watched a pretty boring UFC event. Drank these things for the first time and liked them.

After Anderson Silva gave Belfort that Steven Seagal kick and proceeded to whoop ass, we went here. Airhouse in SF.

Trampoline dodgeball with a basketball hoop = grown ass kids status.

Air Jones.

Air Rushawn

That place is awesome, everything was going great.

But like I said before. There is always that out of pocket dude in the crowd. That out of pocket dude was Dbo Jones this night. Thinking he was Rey Misterio or something he decides to do those things they tell you not to do and jumped on me. My knee snapped. Thanks Jones.

I grabbed my knee and yelled for an “Amberlampse” multiple times before stepping off the field. I sent one of the employee’s to run and get me a ice pack right quick and got back in that G thang. This guy looked at me as if I were god descending from the heavens.

We played a few more games.

Caught more air.


My nigga Best snuck up in that G thang. Super big NO HOMO! on my hand though.

Sunday at around 6am I woke up to hella knee pain and phone calls from Roskoe and Snow-E. Both of them not caring about my injury from the Airhouse and reminding me about the fresh oysters we all had agreed to go and buy the day before. Talking bout “nigga you aint bout to walk over there” and “nigga fuck your knee, we gonna pick you up, be ready”. They picked me up and we were on our way to an oyster farm.


We arrived, Snow-E, Roskoe and NO, that’s not T.I., that’s V.

The oyster farm

Cashing out bout a thousand. The price we pay for freshness.

What’s wrong V? carsick?

I’ll take that as a yes.

We later met up at Roskoe’s house for the Super Bowl. Would of posted pics but that’s enough about us. Follow me on twitter @rushawnwuan. YEEEEEEEE!