things always get weird right away

creeps and geeks

Kris hitting on me

morning shower

Interview with Bestreet

Sat down and had coffee with Joe King and talked about what’s instore for 2012!

Matt and Charlie from The Blonde Locks

Talked a bit with super sweet Bridget Blonde

Looking at a bunch of my top secret new stuff

kickin it with Spencer from Imperial Motion, checking out the new line.

hip dudes

Said hi to Sabina Kelley

Dabs Myla doin their thang

work station

favorite thing I saw on a wall

Kris makes tons of friends and buys a vest

things getting weird again

time for jazz then bed

goodbye

When I was 4 years old, I lived in Jackson, Mississippi for a time. We lived on a small farm. There were chicken, cats, dogs, bunnies, and oh yeah…ticks.
You had to get checked before you came inside to see if you had been… “compromised”. See, in the south ticks will hang in trees and wait until you walk under foot and then drop on you. Usually in your hair, if they’re so lucky. I can clearly remember our dog Zach under my feet at the dinner table, and spotting a tick the size of a grape around his neck. Anyways, I’m getting sidetracked. Often times I would threaten to run away from home when I got mad or was in trouble, which was by all accounts, constant. I was a little hellian, so to speak. Down the road from our house was our one and only neighbor, an elderly couple by the name of Doug and Nina. Their house was my destination when I saw it fit to flee from my oppressors. I lived under a tyrannical regime mind you, one that demanded naps immediately after lunch, each and everyday! As soon as I was given food, my mind and body restored and ready to take on the afternoon, I was confined to my room, my bed no less! It was mental and physical torture. I had to be free of their iron fist.

When I successfully made it to Doug and Nina’s house, I spent most my time catching caterpillars in their yard, and filling my pockets with as many bugs as I could fit. I had to catch them all. Pokemon style.These poor creepy crawlers had certainly met their end after I found them. I wasn’t very caring of small creatures, but was surely fascinated. They were simply made subject to my curiosity and cruel observation. Sadly my parents can strongly attest to that (Oh, the poor kittens). Anyhow, Doug would always shout at me from the house to pull up my britches, and I would always shout back “They aint britches, them pants!” Doug was loosing his hearing, and may have caused me to lose a little of mine at an early age will all that shouting. what’s ironic is that the one thing I always remember my parent’s telling me when I was little was “Your gettin’ too big for your britches”. This was meant to scold me obviously, to reprimand me of my daily obstinance and defiance. And so while I was being told I needed to pull up my britches, which is, I assume because they were too big and falling off, I was at the same time being told that I was too big to be wearing them! These adults were confusing the hell out of me.

Strangely enough, that “advice” has rung in my ears ever since, that one should not act too big for one’s britches. I bite off more than I can chew. I get ahead of myself. Thankfully, I have been instilled with such eloquent reminders about my “britches” to help check my pride.

I always dreamed I would do something great, that I would succeed, that I could beat the odds, and run with the best of them! Yet all the while, feeling my britches were sliding down my back side, and completely out of my league.

The truth is, I AM too big for my britches, but at least I know it, and will accordingly keep buying a bigger pair. Until they start to slide off, and I will have to humbly attempt to pull them up again.

God bless you,
Adam