Back in my Cinco days when we’d be making those Nixon watch faces, one of the meanest typographic mountains we’d climb daily was that dreaded “10-11-12” northwestern corner of the watchface. Those extra character were a real bitch to cram in there. Damn. Wrestled many a watchface in that quadrant.

The red bugger above solves it pretty well. Love that type. Love it.

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Nixon is still at it, and man, looking real good.

J2 brought a gal over from Salt Lake last week and she was wearing a Kink model. First time I got to see it up real close. I made that watch face, man. Still proud. Man and Woman.

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Speaking of time…

Man, I lose track of all time when shit’s heated on the DDC Factory Floor. Kinda scary. I mean, one would think that when Saturday comes, you have that feeling of, “This is my day and I will do whatever I want with it.”

We used to have that feeling. Not during catalog time, though. Whatever group of days leading up to the ship date is lumped into this big, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead” sprint to the finishline. Fuck calling it a “deadline.” I call it “aliveline” cuz man, that’s when I get my life back into my hands.

I’m a broken record. Sure. This is how we do it.

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Snowboard mag got Wikipedia’d. Truth. Issue two is out, you night cretins.