the shit that be in thy shop on the 7th of february.

The wheels are my friends, they talk to me. spinning and gripping. smoking and chirping. remove my cares and worries as a washing machine spins away the soiled. an axle rotating gyro of rotating integrity laced with holy zen and stuff.

bracketry son.

with my new job brings skate park R&D that brings frame braces. I like melting metal with me torch almost as much as melting faces with coping busting, vert railing transition buttering skate park flow.