Beads & Leather

12/25/2025

12/24/2025

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. May your holidays be filled with warmth and cheer. We're so grateful for your loyalty and look forward to serving you in the New Year. Your patronage makes our year bright and we thank you for your business. Merry Christmas from all of us at Mobile Monogramming & More
The Thompson Family 🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄
We'll be offering something new and exciting this coming new year so stay tuned for the announcement!!!🙂❤️

12/11/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/14Y2o83e461/
Thank you Law Tigers at Mobile Monogramming & More

11/10/2025

Lots of MOTORCYCLE SEAT COVERS!!

Lots of Brand New, Some Slightly Used and Some just un-stitchted for patterns.
Harleys, Hondas, Spiders & street bikes.
Come by and see what I have for you!!
Covers for seats(all kinds), back rest, speaker covers, ect.
MAKE ME A DEAL PREFERABLY ALL BUT WILL SELL INDIVIDUALLY!
IT’S ALL GOT TO GO!
Also lots of marine grade vinyl. Some full rolls, large pieces & small scraps in solid colors as well as gator & ostrich prints.
This would be great for some one who does upholstery as well.
I NEED IT GONE!!!!!
Mobile Monogramming & More ( formally Beads & Leather )
3761-B Government Blvd; Mobile Alabama 36693 8:30-4:30 M-F or call for appointment 251-660-1005
Please share. Thanks

09/01/2025

It happened in a McDonald’s parking lot on a hot Sunday afternoon.
I was just an old biker—sixty-eight years, more scars than teeth, leather vest heavy with patches that told my story. That’s when a little boy, no more than six, suddenly grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go.
He screamed. For forty minutes straight, he shrieked like his life depended on it. His mother clawed at his arms, begging him to release me, apologizing through her tears. People filmed us on their phones, whispering that the scary biker must have done something terrible. But I hadn’t. I just stood there, frozen, because something in that boy’s grip felt like more than panic.
And then—he stopped. He looked me straight in the eyes, clear and steady, and spoke words his mother later swore he hadn’t spoken in six months.
“Daddy rides with you.”
The woman went pale and crumpled to the asphalt. I looked down at my vest and realized what his tiny hands were clutching: the memorial patch that read “RIP Thunder Mike, 1975–2025.”
The boy’s voice softened, but every word struck like thunder.
“You’re Eagle. Daddy said find Eagle if I’m scared. Eagle keeps promises.”
I hadn’t seen this boy before. I hadn’t even known Mike had a son. But Mike—my brother in every way that mattered—had died three weeks earlier. Apparently, he’d left his son with one final instruction: trust Eagle.
The mother could barely speak. “My husband… Mike… he always said you’d look after us, but I thought it was just a story.”
I knelt down, put a scarred hand on her shoulder, and said, “You’re not alone anymore. Mike’s boy is my boy now.”
That night I brought them to the clubhouse. No one questioned it. The kid sat at the long table, ate with us, and later fell asleep curled against my vest like it was armor. Each night since, he places his hand on Mike’s patch and whispers, “Goodnight, Daddy. Eagle’s got me.”
And maybe I do. Maybe that’s what brothers are for—not just on the road, not just in the fight, but long after the engines go quiet.
Because some promises don’t end at the grave.

07/23/2024

RIP Kahuna Pineapple Sumner gone too soon. From all of us at Mobile Monogramming and More 😢 Prayers to family and friends

07/07/2024

School Logos Stitched

07/07/2024

DTF Printing