There’s nothing like coming in to work to find out that we lost a job because the client thinks our design work “sucks”.

Well, to you my dear waste-12-hours-of-my-time-with-2-3-hour-long-meetings-and-6-hours-of-research, preparation, and estimating-prospective client, I say you suck too.

oh, and your current site is an eyesore. fucking embarassing.

Olivia wanted a skateboard for her birthday, but all the ones her size from Powell Peralta and other companies had either scary or offensive/misogynistic graphics on them (ala a tall, slutty looking chick in a mini skirt with double D breasts called “Angel Girl”).

So, I ordered a blank white board online. Then I dropped by the craft store and picked up purple, pink, and black paint pens.

All in all, this was a fun project. Now, we just have to teach her to skate!

Moonlight Madness. 20 miles around Baltimore City. I rode in from the county, so my total ride was 40 miles, the longest I’ve ridden yet. More on this later!

Here is the route:

I left home at 7:15 and met up with Johnny and Zach at the water tower in Hoes Heights. We took the Jones Falls Trail down to Maryland Ave, then on down to Mulberry to the Hostel to meet up with 60+ other cycling loonies.

I almost chickened out and left the ride at Hampden, but then I decided, “don’t be a chump, DeVille, do the whole damn thing!” I’m very glad I did.

Highlights of the ride for me were:

• the full moon
• riding along the Harbor’s edge (the Promenade)
• seeing the Natty Boh neon sign bigger than the full moon
• riding through the ArtScape setup
• struggling up the hill to the top of Federal Hill and looking out at the city
• bombing down the hill where right before Charles Street splits, contemplating the monument for a split second, breaking a little too hard and almost going over my handlebars, then huffing it up the hill.

I made it home at 12:30. My whole being was vibrating. I fell asleep around 2:30 and got up at 8.

Somehow, friday didn’t suck at all. I was still riding on a magic carpet of adrenaline and endorphins.

So, I tried to buy a safety vest for the big moonlight ride. I got it home and soon realized I should have tried it on in the store. It comes down to the first two cans in my six pack (snicker, snicker) only. I can barely get my fucking eggplant-on-steroids head through the neck hole.

I had to hassle the guy at the register at REI because it rang up as $28 when the shelf said $22. Twenty two bucks for a pair of neon fishnets sewn together with a convenient mid-nipple zipper pocket?

Maybe I’ll just buy a roll of reflective tape and bind myself, S&M style:

[photo removed to preserve some shred of dignity]

Or, just buy a “costume”:

oh, good grief.

An old friend from the art school days sent this to me today:

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!