dedleg.com

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the coming days — which I hope isn’t as torturous as being forced to watch slides of family vacations is told to be in outdated television programming.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