When Not Giving A Fuck Goes Right: Rookie White Jumping 100,000 Feet at LACR on Saturday

A video posted by Rookie White (@rookiew663) on


This video has people talking. Rightfully so, I dare say. Blew the needle right off the NFG meter with this one. Never seen anything like it, really. Biggest jump I’ve ever witnessed at a track was probably in the neighborhood of 160 or so feet. Rookie reported this was 250ft, I’m hearing it was taped off at 211ft. Doesn’t even matter really; it’s 200+ feet and it’s at a track, with like other jumps and stuff. Not a fat ramp and a massive landing, just a quad that had no business being hit. That jump after he lands even looks somewhat sizable and he’s practically locking up the brakes on the face to not OJ it. To add insult to the injury that all the Glamis BROs who think they hit jumps are feeling, this kid is a B rider. That’s California moto, though – B riders hitting 200+ft jumps and usually running lap times that would qualify top 20 at a pro national.

This kid also has some nac-nac photos that are making me cry out of parts of my body that I’m not supposed to be crying out of.

A photo posted by Rookie White (@rookiew663) on

Update: This angle that FMF posted communicates the level of non-fuckery so much better. Wide open.

A video posted by FMF Racing Official (@fmf73) on

Moto Videos

8 Real World Problems Solved By A Motocross Rider

These are all basic versions of complaints that I have heard from real world friends or acquaintances in the past couple of months. Since it’s socially unacceptable to give people a harsh dose of reality, and instead being forced to coddle people’s delicate psyches with encouragement and positive thoughts (oxymoron), I’m turning to BRO. Enjoy.

“I’m Feeling So Hungover Today, I Can’t Do Anything”
Child’s play. Get your ass up, and get moving. A hangover is your brain telling you that you drank too much, but your brain is a fucking idiot. Your body is still ready to go, trust me. I pound out laps the morning after on a regular basis, and literally every single time I do, I feel like a million bucks afterwards. Physically, you are entirely capable of being active during a hangover. It’s entirely up to you to be a doer or a whiny little bitch on the couch watching re-runs of New Girl all day.

“I’m Worried That My Girl Isn’t Into It Anymore”
Um, then do something about it, dipshit. When I consistently feel shitty on the bike, I make a change, be it drastic or small. Sometimes, a twist of the clickers does the trick, and if not, maybe it’s time to get a new goddamn bike. But sitting there and dealing with it makes me not have fun on the track, which makes me hate life and bitch to my friends about how much I’m not into my bike.

“I’m Getting Divorced”
You’re obviously a dumbass. Thousand bucks says you got married too early, and are now realizing what a colossal thundercunt your woman is. Learn from your mistake and move on. I’ve never in my life bought a bike without trying one out first and making sure it was what I wanted. If I did, there’s a good chance I’d find an issue with it early on and be pissed that I just wasted almost ten grand on the fucking thing.

“I’m Really Tired”
See my answer to number one. Stop self-medicating and start actually maintaining an active lifestyle and tire yourself out so you don’t have to pop pills or take Nyquil to get to sleep because your mind is racing with thoughts of how shitty your life is. Try casing a step-up out at Beaumont and bouncing 60-feet down the landing, almost literally shaking hands with the Devil. Never been more awake in my life.

“I Can’t Afford To Pay My Bills This Month”
Sucks to suck, maybe you shouldn’t have wasted all your goddamn money on that giant rock that you gave your fiancée who is definitely cheating on you. (Note: This one is far more specific to the individual and really doesn’t relate to moto at all, but I’m sure some of you can run with it)

“No Matter How Hard I Try, I Can’t Get A Job”
Then make yourself better. When you race, no one is handing that shit to you; a win comes to the guy who did the best. If you don’t win, you practice until you are the best, and winning. And guess what, there’s always 39 guys working their ass off to be better than you. Go to college or something, dumbass.

“My Shoulder Hurts, But I Don’t Know If I Should Go To The Doctor”
I don’t understand, did you fall on it really bad, or dislocate it, maybe? If you didn’t, then I can save you a trip to the doc and assure you that you’re suffering from Little Bitch Syndrome. LBS is very common in people who don’t ride dirtbikes and do gnarly shit. I once broke my collarbone and finished the moto. Toughen up, cupcake.

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The Motocrosser’s Guide To Being A Normal Person


I have said it a million times that I hate normal society. They always bug me and make me feel uncomfortable, like I’m in some sort of dystopian zoo where the animals look like me and interact with me. But, as unfortunate circumstance would have it, we all have to integrate into normal society; in fact, being awesome like me means that you can throw on that camouflage and blend right in if you want. So here are some tips to doing exactly that:

Talk about work and shit

A lot of you youngbloods reading this are not going to relate, as is also the case with you jobless degenerates who only hang out with other jobless degenerates. But for those of us who run in circles that actually have “hope” for the future, dealing with normal people means that invariably they will ask you what you do for a living, and will want you to ask them about what they do. Even though normal jobs exhibit the same life-sucking properties as a goddamn vampire, that’s all they want to talk about. The reason, of course, is because that is all they have in their life. They do not have a passion for anything, and thus have nothing else to talk about. They convince themselves that they are happy with their situation, which more often than it should leads to an empty bottle of Jack and a trip through the office with a sawed off shotgun. But if you are trying to seem normal, have some business buzzwords to drop in to conversation – terms that contribute absolutely nothing but make it sound like you care about/know what you are talking about. Example terms include but are not limited to: “touch base”, “hit the ground running”, “stick to the basics”, and “leveraging synergies”.

Know at least something about football

I’m not saying that it’s stupid to enjoy football. I’m from Boston, it’s required that I like the Patriots and hate the Jets/Colts/Everyone, which I do. But normal folk, again, have nothing, so on the weekends when they can’t work, they watch football. They also are so desperate to find common ground, because they fear awkward conversation. So when they find out where you are from – if there is any team nearby – they will want to talk to you about it, despite the fact that even if you care about football, you do not give a fuck about engaging a total stranger on it. But knowing the ins and outs of the game will help in speeding the convo along while avoiding the awkward moment where you both realize that this interaction is about to hit a massive wall of silence.

Don’t ever refer to things using dirtbike sounds

We all, when we are excited, let some sort of instinctive moto sound slip. I do it all the time. I’m not saying it’s cool and makes me seem edgy or something, I’m just saying I do it. I wish I didn’t, but I do. Just know that doing so in front of normal people is pretty much a dead giveaway that you are not one of them. They like to “Woo” or bark like a dog or some stupid shit. Yelling “Bung bung buuuuunnng” as you approach the bar/strip club is definitely not normal.

Be a shittier driver

Motocross riders are better drivers. Indisputable fact. I would say that of all the people I know who attempt to operate a vehicle, 50% of the moto crowd are bad drivers, while 85% of the non-moto crowd are bad drivers. Of course, there’s a much higher percentage of women in the second category, so that might be skewing the numbers a tad. But racing a motorcycle with 39 other people trying to kill you definitely makes negotiating highway traffic a walk in the park.

Complain more about aches or pains

Everyone I know that doesn’t race moto is a pussy; “I’m so sore” or “My shoulder is really talking to me” or “I’m way too hungover” on repeat. When you tell them that they are not hurt, and playing through the pain will honestly help them, they don’t believe you. In their head, they physically cannot do anything. They live a defeatist lifestyle, so to be like them, you must also. Having an “I can’t” attitude is the foundation of a normal life.

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Another Shining Example Of What Happens When NFG Goes Wrong

I feel like people see BRO as the quintessential image of NFG. They see me as this handsome, debonaire rogue who lives by no one’s rules but his own, and a character who exemplifies this devil-may-care lifestyle where caution is thrown to the dogs and life is one 5th gear wide open experience after the other. But even knowing that, I’ll say that a few test runs never hurt anybody, kids. Scope out the take-off a few times and maybe you’ll realize that the jump that you’re planning on hitting at 900mph is actually a three foot takeoff that you built like a Jersey Barrier, and you might end the day on your feet with your chick and a little position I like to call “wheelbarrow style”, rather than being relegated to covert handies in a hospital bed like certified NFG ripper Keaton Ward here. Remember Keaton, clean up is a bitch so have some tissues ready to go.

Moto Videos

BRO’s Brief Guide To Making Instagram Suck Less

The Internet was a great idea. One massive network linking people together in an incredible whirlwind of technology; a place where the greatest minds in the world can contribute information for anyone to have access to, where data can travel at light speed, and where the world can be truly connected. But, 2 billion views of “Gangnam Style” later, we are left with this – dog shit. I could go on forever, but this blog will focus on one aspect of the Internet that we all know and (used to) love: Instagram.

The IG, like the Internet, was cool at first – bad iPhone photos spruced up with a decent filter like a streetwalker after a low budget makeover. But quickly, it has morphed into a painful collection of horrendous videos, poorly-lit photos of pets or food or pets’ food, and, of course, selfies.

What can I do to make it better, you ask? Great question, inquisitive reader. First of all, be more selective with the likes and follows. Make people really earn it. If you don’t look at a moto photo and think, “Dope whip” or “awesome bar drag” or “dude, how did that guy not die”, don’t fucking like it; it is not deserving. The same goes for the follows – unoriginal content sucks, and should not get your approval. Moto pages that simply re-post other people’s stuff are a goddamn travesty (and yes, once or twice BRO has even re-posted something, but I usually try to at least put some sort of original spin on everything). But these kids think that Instagram followers are some sort of currency, and will do anything to get those numbers up, even though they mean absolutely nothing. Reward originality with a follow, even if it is only partial originality.

This final point is important, and it’s going to be tough for a lot of you to swallow (and really barely even focuses on MX). It’s something that I’m sure you are all guilty of, and even I myself cannot resist the urge sometimes. But gentlemen, we must all band together, and stop liking girls’ photos purely because we want to fuck them. I know, pretty much everything we do is with the ultimate goal of getting laid, but it needs to stop. Our never-ending quest for a trip to Fuck Town, combined with the all-too-common desperate battle for attention among females, has resulted in a cavalcade of mirror-selfies that at their core all say one thing: “Please reassure me that I’m good looking and that my life isn’t an endless series of worthless moments, each more worthless than the last.” But yet, we double-click them. It literally doesn’t even matter what is in the photo – ass, tits, or crimes against humanity – we will like it because we are thinking “Hey, maybe she’ll distinguish my “like” from the 2300 other ones and DM me asking if I’m down for a three-way with her model friend later.” She won’t, ever. Again, these girls validate themselves by number of followers, even though that number is worthless. They are essentially doing porn, except they aren’t, because porn stars actually make money. If we stop liking, the garbage will stop. Girls will be forced to be creative and thoughtful in their IGs (while also being hot because there’s no other reason to be in a photo if you’re a chick), and the world will be a better place.

Finally, stop using that app that tells you when people are unfollowing you. It is truly pathetic. Why do you care? Once again, it means nothing. People unfollow you? Good, they probably did it because your cat/lunch/face sucks and they are sick of looking at it. Take that and run with it; don’t sit there and be butt-hurt about it, be better. But again, why do you care about it so much? It is the worst form of giving a fuck since wars based on religion started.

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How About This Absolute Savage Pulling A Textbook NFG Pass On A Supermini?

Love it, that’s how we do it in the Northeast. Kid’s holding you up, and your scrub game isn’t quite on point? Just hold it wide open. Vintage Carmichael stuff, really. Like the old finish at High Point, right after RC retired, and he’s on the broadcast saying “I don’t understand why these guys aren’t launching that thing. It’s free time.” Every jump on the track is a single when you’re a maniac and launching the landing 50+ feet. And what’s the end result? Pass made, pass stuck. No shot that other kid is taking that shit back. He probably pulled off; he couldn’t handle that kind of heat. More or less just had his girl stolen from him.

Moto Videos

Josh Sheehan Says What’s Up

The panties are like a factory rider after a Havasu ripper in 1999: Dropped.

Moto Videos

If This Isn’t How You Get A Mechanic For Loretta’s, I Don’t Know What Is

From CraigslistMechanic for chubby LL racer wanted (LL Dude Ranch)
Compensation: all the pbr you can drink, but please show up drunk already
Looking for a semi-qualified mechanic to help me at Lorettas. It starts Monday. I’ll be the chubby guy in the +35 class with little to no interest in doing well. My plan is to pull the hole shot or at least start when the gate drops and get on TV. Assuming I make it to Friday before stroking out from exhaustion. (The last moto on Friday is live on racer TV.com) as part of your job requirements you will need to spin a towel when I ride by and have a cold PBR ready at all times in case I give up suddenly. I’m prepared to pay you handsomely as I assume wages are covered by THE KOG since I’m riding his bike. I borrowed it for the regional and never took it back. Not sure I will ever but that’s a different story.. let me know if interested. I got a sweet camper you can stay in.. thanks #69

If this guy doesn’t have a mechanic yet, I fucking hate America. I put it out in the world right now: I am arriving at LL tomorrow (Wednesday), and I swear to zombie Jesus that I will mechanic for this guy if the position is still available.

Also, #69. If he didn’t get that number, I would pull a Tanya Harding on whoever got it so they’d be out and he could run it even though he technically wouldn’t be allowed to run it, anyway. Fuck you, logic.

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Confession Time, You Guys: I’m In Love With A Quad Girl

That’s it, girls. Thanks for playing, but BRO is officially off the market. I pretty much fall in love ten times a day when I am at the race track and have a front row seat to the stampede of willing and able promo girls, but this is it; the one. I don’t know if it’s the way she pronounces “creek” as “crick” (which is probably just as big an indicator that you are racist as wearing a white hood and robe to a store and buying a cross and lighter fluid), or if it’s the way the cigarette smoke hits her pudgy, biscuits-and-gravy face like a mystical symphony of ignorance and alcoholic daddy issues. Perhaps it’s the fact that she thinks anyone at all would ever try to get her into her bra, because just about every man in the world would sooner gouge his own eyes out with the keys to your Chevy, cupcake. Whatever it is, the second her legs flew up in the air as she endoed the ever-loving shit out of that quad into the River of Failure, I went from six to midnight. And that’s love. #WifeTheQuads

Random Videos

American Hero Sends Himself 150 Feet to Flat and Bails Like A Boss



So this is the crash that is the talk of the town and it just so happens to come to us from the greatest state in the union, Massachusetts. This happened on Sunday at the J-Day race (which is the dopest new series on the east coast, as you all are well aware).

I think easily the greatest aspect of this crash is the fact that I’m pretty sure this kid had no complications whatsoever approaching the jump; he was just going for it. When this video first graced the internets, I thought for sure that he had a stuck throttle or his arms were pumped up, but upon closer inspection, neither appears to be the case, which means that the kid simply could not have given a fuck about shutting off the throttle. 150 feet and one massive loop out later, he quickly found out what happens when keeping it NFG goes wrong.

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