Posts Tagged "stickers"
Today’s update is likely to make property owners and the local vandal squad a bit, heh, crabby. Yesterday, my new run of stickers arrived via a strange FedEx truck disguised as a Budget Rental truck. Unusual protocol, I know, but I assume it was to protect the extremely precious cargo from all the spies and ne’er-do-wells who would see to my downfall if they had their way.
And speaking of shockingly generous offers, I’ve decided I haven’t been advertising my social media redundancy very well, which is no way to act in the 21st century, when we humans are merely receptacles for glowing screens and the content projected thereupon. So I’ve taken it upon myself to construct two amazing offers!!! I’m hoping those extra exclamation points come across as persuasive, I haven’t really experimented much in the realm of unnecessary punctuation.
Let’s start small. The 200th person to like Dedleg on Facebook gets a free set of buttons and some of our new stickers to boot. The 200th person to like Dedleg in real life, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m still working on my immediate family.
Additionally, the 30th person to follow us on Twitter gets the same delightful prize package. Due largely to my total lack of anything resembling a “real life,” I’m actually fairly active on Twitter, so the real reward is, of course, bearing witness to my brilliant insights and darkest secrets (like how to easily create diarrhea by consuming a 6 pack of Brooklyn Lager and half a bag of Spicy Nacho Doritos at 2:30 am).
On that note, they really need to capture whatever it is about Doritos that keeps the taste in your mouth for an entire day after eating them and apply that science to breath mint technology. It’s certainly not doing anything for the predominant “radioactive cheese dust is radioactive” theory.
For the sake of clarification, I thought this diagram might help.
Anyway, my cheese scale is way of the charts, so let’s get on with it. Drones, man your social media battle stations! You don’t spend all day on the Internet for nothing. At the very least, you can always think of it as a nice break from downloading porn!
To your right, you will find the first ever official Dedleg sticker. That is not to be confused with all those bootleg Dedleg stickers those busters down in Chinatown have been circulating for the past few years. Anyway, the originals are long gone at this point and it’s been quite a while (practically a year, actually) since I got a new sticker design printed up. So, in my efforts to get things moving around here again (and abuse hyperlinks, apparently) I decided to take a crack at a new one. I’m sending these bastards off to the printer this afternoon, so they should be available in a couple weeks.
An obvious homage to the original design, I made the skull more traditionally recognizable and opted for a text treatment more akin to the style I’ve been playing with in some of my recent illustrations — a natural evolution for one of Dedleg’s very first logos, that will call upon its rich legacy but also jettison Dedleg into its certain future of total world domination. This is probably how they sold that stupid new Pepsi logo, too, just by the way.
I wanted to keep it a pretty simple illustration so it could function as a simple one color design if need be in order to increase its versatility. Really, this toothy motherfucker is ready for a wide, wide realm of applications. Or at the very least, many sticker reprints in different colorways. As you can see, the possibilities are endless. As you also probably can see, I was very stoned last night.
And who knows… maybe there will even be a t-shirt coming down the line…
Look at it this way. The more promises I make, the harder it will be for me to break them all, statistically speaking.
The plague is spreading. Been seeing a lot of my stickers around town, and some of them aren’t even ones I put up. Uh, I mean, ahem, I’ve never knowingly vandalized any property within the New York City limits, but these fans of mine… fucking savages, I tell you.
I came across this jolly sanitation engineer on one of my rare journeys north of 14th Street. Maybe he’s not exactly my target demographic, but by the looks of the sticker adorning his shovel, he’s caught a touch of the death. Gloves can’t help you anymore, my friend, you’ve got the disease. The photo’s a little blown out, but that makes sense, since I’d say looking at one of my stickers has the same basic effect as looking directly into the sun.
Seriously though, how that sticker ended up on his shovel is beyond me, and I’m not even being facetious this time. If whoever put it there is reading this, speak up, since I obviously need to put you on my payroll. Don’t get too excited — I don’t pay very well. To be honest with you, I don’t pay at all… it’s really more of an honorary title than anything.
And then this piece of shit ate my quarter. And it doesn’t have face time, either. Wack.
The Button Fairy has landed.
Please note: paint streaks not included.
Now here’s the important information. You can buy a 6 pack for a meager $4.50 (including shipping) in our store, which you can get to by clicking the big banner on the sidebar that says “store.” I don’t know about you, but $4.50 is way less than what I’ve paid for a 6 pack on any given weekend, so I’d say it’s a hell of a deal. Not to mention, it’s an incredibly inexpensive way to help you look cooler.
Also, I must thank my girlfriend for contributing her considerable artistic talents to the photoshoot for this post, such that it was. Without her, Dedleg would not be possible, or, at the very least, it’d be a whole lot crappier.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Low hanging fruit might not be as satisfying as the stuff you have to work for, but all that “work” shit really puts me off my appetite anyway.
Don’t ask me how a skeleton is capable of peeing considering I’m pretty sure all the pee-making plumbing is sold separately from the bone structure. And I don’t want you to think I wasn’t taking this drawing seriously or anything but uh… actually, would taking it seriously have even been possible?
Obviously, this PG-rated little doodle was inspired by the ubiquitous “Calvin peeing on something” decals adorning the backsides of a nation’s worth of rusting trucks filled with fishing equipment. They can usually be found placed next to a Jesus fish and something like “Keep honking, I’m reloading” — so keep an eye out.
While doing my, uh, research for this piece, which consisted mainly of sifting through all the porn that inevitably turns up when conducting a Google Image search involving the word “pee”, I found a decal company spouting the amazing claim that they can make a sticker of Calvin peeing on anything. And they must have a real crack team of designers over there at DecalBoyz.com because they weren’t kidding.
I like how they have the one of Calvin peeing in a toilet, you know, for all those well-mannered drivers out there who still want to express their individuality with a bootleg version of a popular comic character urinating on the back of their car.
See? There’s plenty of work out there for dedicated, driven artists willing to adjust their standards and self respect.
By the end of any given summer, pretty much every skateboarder worth his (or her!) wheels has some degree of leg fuckedupness — be it a full blown sprain, a tweaked ankle, or even just a heel bruise, everybody’s limping around a bit by September. So even though for my birthday this year, I got the gift of not destroying my knee like last year, I can still promise you I’m living up to my name…
New stickers are coming soon… I think. Don’t ask me, I just work here.
Sorry kids, no new nonsensical scrawls today — it’s going to take me a couple days to recover from my well-deserved escape into the wilderness. This also happens to me my last merciless week at the dreaded salt mines where I routinely debase myself for my wages. And I’ve simultaneously become swarmed with freelance projects — apparently mentioning availability to take on some side work is like cutting yourself in a pool of ravenous sharks. Which unfortunately leaves very little room this week for the d-leg, indeed. But make like a sweat-stained hat from the late nineties with eyeballs on it and have no fear, the extra cash will be put towards dedleg’s impending expansion and subsequent
world universe takeover… and also towards some herbal art fuel.
Oh, and then I got like a thousand of these made…
You may remember the original illustration this design was based off of, and if you don’t know, now you know. The sticker is actually on clear vinyl, so the bonedaddy looks like he’s emerging from whatever surface the sticker is on. I’ll have an online shop up in a couple weeks where you’ll be able to purchase a pack of stickers (and I’ll also throw a couple in with every oil spill t-shirt order), but for now if you want some, you can Paypal d[at]dedleg.com and I’ll mail a few out.
I probably should have tried harder to avoid those creases as much as possible, but it’s past 2 AM and my capacity for giving a shit is incredibly low.
On that note, Papa Leg is ded tired. I have many delightful stories and photographs from my vacation to share in the coming days — which I hope isn’t as torturous as being forced to watch slides of family vacations is told to be in outdated television programming. The new design for the oil spill t-shirt is also underway. Busy days in the shop, boys and girls… oh to be human with only these two insufficient hands. If I had four arms like The Grimace did back when McDonald’s seemed less deadly, I wouldn’t be grimacing at all. I’d be psyched. Mostly just because then I could design without having to stop typing to eat Combos.
Oh, and speaking of Grimace, this piece of Internuts detritus was just too stupid to pass up.
Sexy thang on my arm, cup of drank in my palm
And that crazy shit, I’m tripping on some skinny bitches
Something that’s wholesome, Florida to Folsom
And for the most I’m steady sippin’ on some sizzurp
Just some scientific documentation of the work the local hoodlums have been putting up lately.
From a distance I misread this as “God Blows!” and got really excited. My disappointment was palpable upon closer inspection of the tag, such that it is. I try not to post up too much of God’s work on this blog. Nothing against the guy, personally, but it’s only asking for trouble. His fans are just a bunch of fucking jackasses.
The frequency with which I’ve been seeing these jumping spiders is starting to *ahem* bug me out. At first I found them endearing and kind of cute, but I guess it was around the time I woke up with one of them perched on my nose, staring directly into my eyes, that I started feeling kind of weird about the little guys. Yeah, that and the note that said “GET OUT” written in dismembered fly wings. It’s probably nothing.
Look, I found some wild dedlegs at play! Why don’t you go do the same, Internerd?
Now that the weather forecast has a little more spring in its step, I’m much more inclined to take photographs in the out-of-doors. Re-entering the outside world is a bit of a frightening concept for me, but just like the first flowers of the season, I too must bloom and greet the warmth of the sun.
Winter sure is a great excuse to binge on videogames and marijuana, though… so I’m only going to be doing this “outside” shit until I can think of a new way to justify disgusting achievements in laziness.
I used to see this Clam Chowder fella’s “artwork”, ahem, springing up all over my neighborhood, but he seems to have dropped off the map. Some people might be happy to hear that… like whoever crossed out this tag, for example. It’s a shame too… this was one of Clam’s earliest masterworks.
And apparently I can’t speak for everyone on matters of eggs either — I’m more of a three egg omelet with ham and cheese kind of guy, myself. Don’t know what I’m talking about? You need to look a little harder.
And while I was checking on my sticker friend’s interesting spelling, I found something a little odd. First, check the pronunciation — “om-uh”… what? Forgetting something there, like say, a syllable? Or do people actually pronounce omelet like that, and if so, where? France or some shit? Just wondering in case I find myself ordering breakfast in the French countryside anytime soon. And, I’m sorry… but jelly?! Fuckin’ sickos… everywhere you look, god damn it.
So who caught the biggest typo in the world last week? Let me refresh your memory, in case you missed it.
Nobody said a fucking thing! Thank you for sparing my feelings — you’re good friends.
Or perhaps somehow… you all believed it was intentional, that it was all a joke… which would, uh, be very astute of you! That was my plan all along! Oh, how I love games!
Say… here’s a game, let’s guess who looks like a dumb stoner
Stickers coming soon. I’m sure you could find a place for some to live happily ever after.
And no, that’s not a joke or anything. I’m one of those straight-to-business types, couldn’t you tell?
Complex magazine’s streetwear collabo of the decade? Maybe… just maybe.
If I can find some bootleg manufacturer out in China somewhere, that is. Canal St. style, dogg.
For now, if you truly do want a taste, remember that I am giving stickers away — alls you gots to do is ask. Although the stickers aren’t edible and don’t have acid on them or anything, so there’s really no point in tasting them, but I was speaking figuratively so whatever.