Butt cracks and beer cans

GUEST BLOGGER, the EXTRAORDINARY DANA TAYLOR.
When I was first invited to Mutt's international headquarters, I fully expected to find a dogpile of whiskers, cigarette butts, sharpies, and empty beer cans filled with elaborate dreams shoved into a tiny little closet studio; the coordinates a shady under-the-bridge location. Three aging, yet handsome and fashionable hipsters trying to figure out which hole in the side of the computer will accommodate the USB cord.



"So it's not true. You guys DO know how to use computers," I joked, reporting all the mud slung at their backs lovingly and good naturedly when they announced they'd be setting up shop together.



But friends and fans and other Muttnicks, I'm proud to report there is actual work happening here.



There's laughing and thinking and writing things on pages taped to walls waiting to be filled with the scribbles of a late-night epiphany or nine. The sound system is an effective work ethic metabolism booster and all of the parts of the machine seem to be nicely oiled and operating as expected.



What's left of the sun is descending below the horizon line, and there is still work to be done, so there is still work being done. Three principals, two assistants to the principals. And it's nice. It's refreshing and inspirational and gives me hope that one day when I'm olderish and skinny and can afford $275 manjeans and have a couple of decades worth of pencils and lions and effies and campaigns and awards to display in my 9000 sq ft studio window, that I might just have the balls to open my own little something or other. But for now I'm enjoying the view from the neuvo man cavern. An indie ad agency of very capable proportions, as it turns out.