I work hard.
Oh… Wait a minute. No I don’t.
Though it should be said that up until five years ago, I did everything from construction, to wrenching on bikes, to digging ditches, and working in restaurants.
They were no blood diamond mines, but I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty.
No, I guess what I mean to say is that the differentiation should be made between work and effort.
I realize I have fallen into a reasonably cush gig here, and I don’t ever for a second, ever take it for granted. However, as I was saying, I do put a tremendous amount of effort into this site, the products, the content, and so on. Like with every post, the new one has generally barely cooled before I have started on the next.
This wasn’t the case on Monday, because instead of writing a whole new batch of mumbo jumbo, I began dinking around with Photoshop, which lead to more dinking, which lead to even more dinking, and before I knew it, I’d run out of time to write a new post.
So instead of half-assing one together (even more so that I usually do), I will present the fruits of my labor, and beg for forgiveness.
At least until Friday.
So as I often do, I was scanning photos of people engaging in their bikecycle related activities, when I reflected back on an image I did a couple years ago of my friend Newt;
The next thing I knew, the floodgates opened to a whole array of poorly Photoshopped images (in the order of completion) which look pretty much like this;
I realize these are mediocre at best, and the first person who exclaims that they can see the stamp tool gets categorized in the same realm of person who proudly declares a fake any time they see something on the internet that is.
Bully for you. You have eyeballs.
Anyway, this didn’t stop Jacob from asking me if I took requests;
Sure as shit though, it just looks like Greg is simply leaning over to eat a ground breakfast with a giant novelty fork;
From there I did a few more;
And then I did one of Lance Mountain for good measure, because he rules;
Eventually Dicky made up to this point, one of my life’s most astute observations;
So naturally I felt inclined to oblige;
Certainly not some of my finest work;
Though there are a couple kinda, ahem, gems here, twelve out of ten times, it beats working in a diamond mine.
you talking to jens
I love to eat ground breakfast.
You need to get a turntable under Gene-O’s hand.
If I contributed in any way, I’m just returning the favor for all the times Stevil was the reason I got nothing done all day.
Not a single Photoshopped giant penis?
I like the one of Lance,, you can see the shadow of his board,, Stevil I think you have found your nitch,,
very very very very rad
More than a few of these look like the subject ought to be gettin’ down to Gangnam Style. Love em!
So, are you saying: “It’s not about the bike”?
I gotta admit, for me, it is a bit about the bike.
Hey, thanks for the awesome socks, they fit like a glove. Then I took them off my hands and put them on my feet and they fit like socks!
I dig it, some of your best work.
As a wide eyed 39 year old skate child-man on pilgrimage from the antipodes to the mecca of all things grindage back in 2007, I was lucky enough to meet Mr Mountain and partake of his freshly minted purpose built back yard skate facility.
The point being, apart from confirming that I am a name dropping self-propsing middle aged douchebag (same-diff) with nothing much else noteworthy about my life, that Lance, despite being a rock star of sorts does in fact rule at being a human being.