Dear Scary Santa,
How is Mrs. Scary Santa? How are the reindeer? That’s nice.
Could you please bring us our own architectural firm? Just like Mr. Brady from the Brady Bunch?
He’s always making models in the den and walking around with rolled-up blueprints. It looks like so much fun. PLUS, we would totally take care of it. We figured out the best name for it:
Get it?
It’s our names! Spelled backwards!!
Anyway, we’ll let you get back to working with the elves.
From,
Ken & Nat
Doesn’t that sound futuristic?
2010.
Anyway, you can come see them in person at the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama. It’s not until December but I know how my readers like to plan ahead.
What a night! First, I was paper-bagged by my girlfriends and THEN I was handed a glass of wine and a sack full of pencils.
We were greeted by a wall of women at the The Grave’s Hotel – I was frightened at first – it was like a giant bridal shower… I always feel awkward at bridal showers. This is going to surprise some people but I’m just not really a girly-girl. I can’t walk in heels and I have no idea what to do with make-up or hair. My casual wardrobe may as well be borrowed from the Cloggy’s Friday Night Karaoke Ladies. 
But who’s that in the bathroom with you, Fran? Well, silly, that’s my bathroom friend!
Okay, onto the vendors at the event. What event? Hush. Illume Candles was there – spreading their joy through the scented candle. We’re printing their holiday card again this year. They’ll pay us in candle currency which they assured us is just as good as real money. Let’s see… then there was some stationery vendor… forgot the name… it wasn’t us… so I didn’t care… And lastly, Foat Design. They do urban couture and yoga wear. I chatted with one of the owners – A nice gal who claims to have a twin in San Francisco. I’m not buying it, I bet she made up the whole “twin thing” to get away with crime.
Nothing says Christmas like sitting on a boozed up strangers lap. Especially if that stranger promises you all sorts of “goodies.”
The 1970’s were a rich time for the Shea family. 5 of 8 kids had already come through the hatch, (what did she say?) Mr. had a job, Mrs. kept house. Santa Clause sat at Dayton’s just waiting to kick off Christmas-Time. I do remember wondering how he could waste precious toy-making time just SITTING THERE on that throne. That wondering turned into anxiety which turned into paralyzing fear.
That might be why I’m not in this picture.
Nat, Em, and Zak are in it.
Andy and I are noticeably absent. There might have been a pants-wetting episode, or a throwing-up episode. Or a poopy-pants episode. Andy was always trying to get attention.
With the help of photoshop, I’ll be revising history. Soon, Nat and his BUSINESS partner, Ken, will be sitting on Santa’s lap… together. Ken needs to scrape up some childhood memory and get it over to me. I will remove Em and Zak (Zak clearly wants to be removed) and replace them with a little Ken. THEN, I will create a 4-color process halftone – OF COURSE it will be 50 lines per inch.
Duh.
It will be the new holiday card for Tanek. The finest architectural firm in the land.
I’ve heard it’s tricky to print a 4-color halftone using the letterpress printing method. But you know what I say to that??
DO YOU?!
I say, “you’re not so tricky!”
So, here’s what that image looks like when it’s all pulled apart and put back together as a 4 color separation. Isn’t it delicious?
I wonder if schools are more selective about their teachers these days.
I had a high-school teacher that greeted us with such giddy enthusiasm when we entered the classroom – I might say he “pranced” around the room, his little toesies all dressed up for the day in black, dress socks. I could see the socks because those feet weren’t stuffed into a smelly old shoe – no! They were free as you and me in a classic Birkenstock sandal.
Seven Paula Figurines lined the front of his desk.
Six of them kept their backs to us, the seventh would be turned to let us know what day of the week it was,”Happy Monday!” and so on. So much better than a calender.
We were told that we should address him as “Doctor” – that title was later disputed. And revoked. Turns out it was all just a fantasy… oh, such a fantasy… I imagine myself getting a doctorate degree in religion…
He described one of his teaching methods as “accelerated learning.” All students were required to put their heads on their desk – or grab one of his strange-smelling pillows from his “cubby-hole.” Classical music blaring, he read aloud – synchronizing the inflection of his voice to the swells and ebbs of the music.
I wish I could remember what he read. Maybe it was the multiplication-tables. Or Jim Jones’ manifesto.
I wrapped myself in bacon yesterday for a phone interview with Mpls. St. Paul magazine.
I was, I’m sure, delicious.
She wanted to talk about the new book but I wanted to talk about the last episode of Long Island Medium.
She said she was too “busy” to talk about what I wanted to talk about. What? Too busy to care??
Moving on:
Zeichen Press found a new intern and she already promised to fold my laundry. I’ll give her this new card as soon as she puts my clothes away:
I live on a farm so I can swim through my gold coin-filled silos like Uncle Scrooge McDuck. My latest money-making scheme is sure to fill its very own silo: A downloadable collection of our cards turned cartoons!
I’ve requested that royalties be paid in gold doubloons.
Clip-clop-clip-clop… I watched her gracefully stroll down 28th Street. She, a 125 pound White Tailed Deer, came towards me on the sidewalk. Her head turned left and right, taking in the scenery like a tourist. I sat as still as a frightened rabbit, hoping she would mistake me for something non-threatening. The air was perfectly calm and the smoke from my cigarette rose straight into the sky. Oh, but she noticed me! We were locked in a staring contest for what felt like forever, and then she bounced away. Faster than I knew a deer could run, she bounded across Hennepin Avenue.
And a bear wandered up to a strip mall last week in Cottage Grove. I felt it should be commemorated.
Its time to free ourselves from the shackles of this social networking monster.
We are ignorant prisoners, dragging our metal cups across the bars while our warden stuffs his fat face with naturally-cased wieners.
We are school children, wandering like Wii avatars, waiting for the bell to ring only to be called in to diagram sentences.
We are the Israelites crushed by our taskmasters, waiting for the supernatural smiting of the Egyptians.
Rise up, people. Stop rowing the slave ship. The candy tasted so good before we got in the van, but now we must be deprogrammed. Make no mistake about it this is some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Oh, the candy so sweet, so forbidden, so Turkish-Delighty.
Damn you, Facebook!
Ive flushed my precious time down the toilet. Time Ill never get back. Just like the year I got hooked on Party of Five those orphaned Salingers led by their gorgeous brother/carpenter, Matthew Fox
Oh, but its done now. No point in looking back. Friend requests, status updates, profile pictures word combinations unwittingly added to the English lexicon!
Ive got a word for you: insidious.
Never has there been such a tool, such a divisive tool. It wears a party hat and mixes the strongest drinks, watching the party-goers behave like jackasses. Why?
Ask son-of-a-dentist/billionaire, Mark Zuckerberg. Mr. Zuckerberg was unavailable for comment during the writing of this, and its no wonder. Hes in Palo Alto, counting his drug money. Im booking a flight to Palo Alto and am either going to personally punch him in the face or flatter him until he hires me as his personal secretary. The second scenario is obviously more lucrative. The point is, I will no longer be in this creepy symbiotic relationship.
I will be free. (cue the MLK footage)
Print shops are full of danger.
Hands mangled, digits lost, clothes torn right off of bodies… (I better fact-check that last one).
Zeichen Press is no exception.
Behold:
Look if you must. Sometimes it is better to face the painful, it desensitizes the mind.
That’s good, right?
Because I am so committed to my craft, I (by “I”, I mean “my son”) squished the spider, and finished laying out this card:
Mother’s Day is coming up but you don’t have to get your mom a card.
Three new rep groups this Spring.
THREE.
These new (lucky) states are: Virginia, West Virginia, Idaho, Montana, Alaska, and New Mexico. Each rep gets a box of goodies, packed by Jen:
I bet that’s a lot of work.
I wish I could help but I’m too busy watching Pam watch kittens on televison while I lay in bed.
I DID write/design some new cards I’ve heard that laughing is as good for your body as eating so I plan to airdrop some new cards to the starving people in the world.
I’m sure they’ll be grateful. 
Has Science gone too far?
Days and nights blurred as the scientist toiled alone well, not exactly alone his companions (experiments) lived in a collection of cages. His laboratory (pronounced: lah-boooar-atory) was nestled between the Russkoe Slovo Bookshop and the hydro-electric plant in Krasnoyarsk.
His mission?
To create super-species. Behold his first success… and his new friend:
Well, congratulations Doctor Hvorostovsky!
And now on to my creations:
(not nearly as controversial)
But how can I be tame when I am thrust into such an atmosphere? 
I have only one thing to say:
That sounds delicious!
If Spring would come I wouldn’t be forced to sit here and email sell sheets to hundreds of newspapers around the country. 
I won’t complain about the weather because that’s about as interesting as listening to someone list their health problems. But I WILL say this:
If I lived in Hawaii, there’d be no Zeichen Press.
See, I can always find the blessing in disguise.
Oh fine, here’s a new card inspired by the endless Winter:
The woman gazes through her window. A window covered in dog-drool, a window with a view of only one season: Winter. She stares, slack-jawed, at the slow parade of life.
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area we call the Twilight Zone.
SERIOUSLY?!?
