Christmas is definitely not my favorite holiday.  
But there is an upside to this time of year.
My good friend Hyrum's parents moved about 15 miles away from me a few years back.
For the last few years, Hyrum and his lovely wife Pegah have made the trek from sunny LA to dirty Northern Utah to get down for some Christmas love.
And this is a fantastic thing.
This means that at least once a year I can look forward to a night of drunken bullshitting in my living room with Hyrum, Pegs, and Heidi, because it's usually too cold and shitty to go anywhere else.
And last night was no exception.
Drunken consumption for the sake of consuming, questionable stories of fear and loathing, and impromptu photo shoots utilizing high powered handguns and dirt-cheap beer are quickly becoming the norm.

Hyrum, I love ya', brother.
See you in February.  Your hood, same rules.


Back to work.

So Christmas was great, blah blah blah, got some deep pow, blah blah blah, cut a tree in half with my leg and now I can't walk, blah blah blah, client finally made selects and wants finals on Monday, blah blah blah...

Here's a frame from the Malibu shoot last month.  It wasn't on the client's selects list, nor were any others like it.
Clients never choose the right frames.
Oh well... no retouching for this one.  At least not until I feel like doing it on my own time. Which means never.
Hope y'all had a good holiday of your choosing.  

Now get back to work.  Your economy depends on it.


I'm officially old.

One of the few shots I have from my glory days of chasin' the gnar, courtesy of Co-Pilot Jangles... aka Strider.  Just diggin' through old shit, gettin' stoked for the weekend's forecast...
Brighton, circa 1999.  Almost 1/3 of my life ago.  God, I'm old.


Triple stoked... a little progress, finally.

Due to the recent surge in my work flow, I've had a total of exactly 13 minutes and 56 seconds to work on anything besides planning, shooting, or editing.
As a result, the Sporty has been down for waaaay too long. 
And, although I love the bagger for doing what it does, I'm kind of embarrassed to be seen on it - It's built for the 60-years-plus crowd who want to reclaim the rebellious youth they never had by feeling the wind in what's left of their glistening white hair while avoiding the bugs behind their tinted lexan windscreens.  Granted, I logged the most comfortable 8 thousand motorcycle-miles of my life on that bike this summer, but I really don't want to pull it out for less than 1,500 miles ever again.
Because the Sporty is where the fun lives.
I finally made it over to my good friend Sean's shop (Grim Cycle Salvage/Grim Metal Worx). 
The Sport-o still needs the rear fender hung, a sissy bar bent up, about 4 million tabs and standoffs, new tunnel, filler cap, petcock dumped out the side, and some engine work.  If you hire me and pay me ridiculous amounts of money, she'll be running an S&S hot Sporty kit... otherwise, she'll just be getting new gaskets and a little freshening up where needed. 
Being the incredibly bright fool I am, I decided I needed to cut a few inches out of an already way too small tank.  So, rather than getting the 90 miles to a tank I used to get, I'll now probably get 45 miles between stops.  Good thinking, me... you're a real smart guy - that's gonna prove to be really awesome on those flat-out desert hauls you love so much.
Hopefully Sean can help save my ass on this one.... since he is my official ass-saver.

Here I am, moments before lighting my shirt on fire and burning all the hair off my nipples...

And here's a sneak-peak at what her uber-chic spring 2009 runway look will be...

I'm really hoping to have her ready to run by the end of January... she needs to be good to go for super-top secret early February plans... more details on that as they become available.  Or maybe not.


Double Stoked.

The January issue of Snowboarder mag just hit shelves... go buy it.  Jeremy's gig, and I was stoked as hell to be a small part of it...  www.steezyrider.blogspot.com

Mom... this is the one you're looking for.

I know it's lame, but this is the raddest part.  I've had a lot of images in a fair number of mags, but this is the first time I've been listed on the contributors page.  It's nice to be listed in such good company.

Oh... and Benny --- you've always kicked ass for me.  Thanks for hookin' this up.  Everyone, shop at Milo Orem.


Just found my red Schaaf's while in Seattle... more on that soon.
(I have a sneaking suspicion that half the dudes I know will be rockin' these at the next man-day rally.)


The Set.

Outtake from The Build.
48 sleepless hours.
2 hours of shooting.

Still haven't slept....
Mobile, Alabama tomorrow... plane leaves in 4 hours.  
Louisville the next day.

I need a vacation.


A long way back from Hell.

So we're back from the SLC/Red Deer/Calgary/SLC/Charleston/SLC hell fest.  Too many hours on planes and in airports.  Really.
So... who'd of thunk it -  Beaufort, South Carolina has a pretty killer public skate park ruled by the Lords of the Flies, a gang of unkempt 12 year olds who kill it for real.  Maybe I'll post pics of those heathens later.  For now, here's a little tribute to our man in Pittsburgh, Mr. Alex R. Jones.
Thanks to Bradley for cuttin' a stencil for us...



So Jac and I are back from The Burgh.
Great place, super-friendly people.
If you ever find yourself there on a Sunday night, definitely hit The Brillobox for a tasty vegan dinner.  You'll be amazed at the paradoxes... don't be surprised if a couple deer hunters, fresh off the trail, are eating right next to you while the YouTube DJ plays the latest in hipster video on the back wall.
Here's a few snappers from the trip...

This was one of the streets we shot on in McKeesport... apparently this street has seen 6 murders so far in 2008.  Needless to say, our client's security systems were selling like hotcakes in this neighborhood.

If you're ever shooting in Pittsburgh, hire this man.
Somehow, despite it's size, Pittsburgh has absolutely no photo rental houses.  Enter Mr. Alex R. Jones, our savior on this trip... we rented him and his equipment for a couple days.  Jac lost a bet on this guy --- when we met him for breakfast, I told Jac that I knew this guy was the type of dude who had a shiny, nickle-plated, fuck-off Smith and Wesson .45 revolver... I was right.  Alex is a certified bad-ass.

Cory in the top floor of Mr. Jones' studio space.  Unfortunately, we didn't use it because nothing on our shot list really fit the vibe.  Our loss, for sure.


All systems fail.

The experiment seems to be failing thus far.  

But I'll try better.  Maybe.

Jac and I take off tomorrow on our whirlwind tour to places we've never been.  In a matter of hours, we'll be jettin' off for an all-expenses-paid vacation (work) in the luxurious, all-inclusive Motel 6 resort and casino in exotic  Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  

I look forward to meeting some Yinzers.

In the meantime, here's a reason I like it better in Utah.


The Mark Of The Beast.

Well, shit.

Now I've gone and done it, haven't I?
This is my official, inaugural first foray into the world of "The Blog".

We'll see how this experiment goes.