Hey La Nina, You're Stupid.

Anyone who lives in and around Portland is probably beginning to wonder if summer will ever come to these parts. The answer is "no". And here's why:

This is something I learned while watching The Weather Channel at my local, so bear with me. It was almost impossible to hear the meteorologist. But between the occasional audible sound bite and my whiskey soaked imagination I was able to piece together the following assessment, which is 85% true:

The crap weather we're experiencing in the Greater Portland area is a direct result of La Nina, the self-absorbed and promiscuous sister of El Nino (I'm not making this up...except for the promiscuous part...but you never know).

In spite of a recent run of warm, sunny days (which is all a trick), I have reason to believe that La Nina has no plans of leaving these parts, even though her brother El Nino is still kicking it in the Gulf (in spite of what BP did to his crib). Which means that nosotros are gonna be seeing mucho of La Nina.

While I can't predict the future, I do know a couple things to be certain:

(1) La Nina is not going anywhere.
(2) La Nina is passive aggressive and dumb.
(3) La Nina might be adopted.
(4) The corned beef sandwich I had yesterday was delicious.

One more thing I know is that La Nina's on-again, off-again current needs to make up its god damn mind. Honestly, if I need to rock a sweater in July I'm cool with that (anyone who's seen my deep, bountiful wardrobe will understand why). But this tempestuous game La Nina keeps playing makes me want to:

(1) Vomit
(2) Play Yahtzee
(3) Vacuum
(4) Shave Z's head.

Right now I'm getting worked up and need to settle down. It's 35 degrees at the moment and I can't afford to lose any more body heat. So until tomorrow....

CIAO FOR NOW.

Remember This Guy?

That's Kofi and he just beat me 2-1. Well, his country (Ghana) beat mine (U-S-A!). And of course Kofi is pimping around South Africa right now running his mouth and sending angry, threatening texts (not sure what I did to piss him off).

I'm trying to act mature and say all the right things. But it's boring, and really what I want to do right now is dive on Kofi's posterior cruciate ligament and get red carded for the night.

Since that's not an option let's try this....hey Kofi, I challenge you to a one-on-one match in Ghana, on your pitch, with your ball. And yes, you can invite all 750 members of your family for support (so long as they blow those vuvuzelas... I like that shit).

I know what some of you soccer snobs are thinking.

Soccer isn't basketball!! You can't play one-on-one!!

Who will play goalie?
What about corner kicks?
Oh what a silly idea..THAT'S not real soccer.

Sorry Bebito. I can't hear you.

I'm too busy thinking about flying halfway round the world and going shin-to-shin with a 250 pound bull, in front of hostile aunts and wild tigers and shit.

Okay Koki....the jabulani is on your pitch.

What you got?

Mona

A little back story on the principle namesake of Mutt Industries- Mona. She may, every now and again, and really only occasionally, be a bit territorial. Thus you don't hear more about our visits from Monsieur De Raphael. It's simple, she's the dominant canine in the den, and we're all well aware of her position. Right, and she loves bones.

See where this is going? Today's Heros and recent Mutt favorites D-Webb and Beauvais stopped by the local grocer this morning to grab the office some delicious breakfast foods and happened to notice the butcher had a feast of scrap bones for dogs to enjoy. Naturally the two, eager to please her Highness, picked her up a chunk. While doing so they noticed a sign surrounded by heaps of dog photos that spoke of a free bone with photographic proof of a previous purchase. The two relayed this message upon arrival back at Mutt HQ and Mike began snapping photos.

I decided it was time I beefed up my AD portfolio and started telling Mona what to do. Sit. Try this. Rollover. Pretty simple stuff, but she wasn't impressed. Instead she ignored me and remained focused on her bone (see picture above). I thought we get "cuter" with it so I went in to move her and set her up right and hazah, she removes her three short lines of ancestry and becomes straight up wolf.

Check yourself before you wreck yourself.

Mutt ♥ Sports

Mark this bad boy as the second post to include a heart in it's title. Now don't think we've gotten soft, although I'm pretty sure I did see McCommon on a sewing machine about five minutes ago.

Who's excited for the world cup to start? We sure are. I had the chance to stop by D-mon's pad the other day and I noticed he's already piled every one of his forty-five England shirts together in anticipation. Mark tomorrow as day one of English Webb.

Moulé + Mutt = ♥

one our favorite projects in the studio is when we are asked to update the windows for Moulé. This spring we decided to celebrate our partnership by designing a family of very fashionable mutts for the occasion. The windows will be up in the Portland, Vancouver(BC) and Winnipeg stores until the end of June.

mascot monday.

Today at the office, we have a very special guest. His name is Bernard-Jacques De Raphael.

Bernard arrived early this morning with big ideas for some pitch-work and set about the day dreaming up, if I dare say, very clever stuff. Bernard, who can boast years of creative experience, has a certain gift for dissecting work down to its bare essentials, a process he defines as "creative demolition." As part of a creative exercise, De Raphael led a workshop in which he asked the Mutt team to pinpoint the exact moment at which we develop a creative idea. During this split second when an idea is born, the rest of the team were instructed to quickly jump up and shout complete gibberish into the idea-conjurer's ears until he had forgotten the idea altogether. By doing this, Bernard says, we can avoid nearly 95% of all bad ideas.

"By extinguishing the spark before it catches a fire, we can avoid burning down the entire building," says De Raphael confidently from a perch on Megan's desk.

From all of us at Mutt Industries (well, at least those who aren't away on a high-priority international client meeting) it has been an honor having you stop by today Bernard-Jacques.

Goodbye.

I've made a huge mistake.

You might remember a certain coveted piece of eyewear I creatively repaired in December... Regrettably, I mourn their loss today.

And I don't even have a good story for this one.

I went to lovely George, Washington this weekend to take a part in the Millennial movement also known as Sasquatch 2010. It was a life-changing experience, which deserves an entire post unto itself, and to which I will give an entire post some time later.

But for now, let's focus on my glasses. I am in-the-know of a few Money-Spot(s) for storing glasses in a tent. They can be found inside the circles illustrated below:

Fear not the vision-crushing midnight readjustment, for your glasses are now safe. However, a recently overlooked error of such genius was the need to remove said glasses from their hiding place pre-tent tear-down. If I must admit to a single flaw, it might be the occasional fault in memory. I may have, this weekend, forgotten my glasses in de campana mi amigos only to have them perform the ritualistic tent shake-out-unwanted-pieces-of-earth-and-occasional-valuable-objects-into-the-big-field-filled-with-tall grass dance. My apologies dear Opticons. And more immediately, thank you Mutt for the insurance to cover my new Hyptoptics.