After Hector was born I had a difficult

decision to make: raise him as a

weirdo "Planet Boy” superfreak and use

the money we earn exploiting him to

pay for his education, or raise him as a

normal planet boy, let him spiral off in

his own direction and never look back.

I won’t tell you what I did but you can

probably guess. It finally led me here:

the alligator breakdance contest. As

you may imagine, it’s The New

Testament of Crazy. The fat beats,

hype gear, all kinds of gold and bling,

torn from golfers and seniors I guess,

representing and keeping it mad real,

not to mention the dope and truly

innovative breakdance moves: I love it.

I think people forget about the

positives because of all the media

attention on the violence. It’s not

about violence. It’s about a few mega-

rad crews of mentally ill gators busting

some of the freshest, most original

moves ever seen deep in the hearts of

the biggest, nastiest swamps around,

know what I’m saying?