They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still.
Strange!
No, not strange:
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Gratitude & Regret
Like Bread & Pickle (LOVE their lattes) but it serves turkey chowder in an air-sickness bag.
Life is full of gratitude and regret. Both should be acknowledged. Hopefully via a Zeichen Press card. I am sure that if we all thoroughly examined our consciences, we would discover a whole room of regret. That room would be furnished with a urine-stained futon, a musty trunk, and an ash tray. That’s sad!
CONVERSELY, the gratitude room is full of Daylilies and cookie jars.
Here are some cards for both occasions: And don’t act like you don’t need both cards.
We still love you.
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Speaking of Snakes
There was a pet store in my neighborhood (Petcetera) that had all kinds of fascinating creatures. The best creature was a full-size (5 feet, from snout to tip of tail) alligator in a steel tub. The tub had a makeshift screen cover so that the alligator couldn’t escape.
A screen cover.
So the ALLIGATOR couldn’t escape.
I think it was drugged anyway it just laid there, blinking it’s beautiful eyes.
Of course there were snakes, and I don’t know much about snakes, but what I do know is pretty scientifically accurate. When snakes speak, they drag out their s’s.
They’re usually pretty shy but if you give one a frozen mouse they are your friend for at least 5 seconds. -
Wanted: Design Pimp
It was a fat PVC pipe, coated in Crisco, pitched at a 25° angle and suspended over a pit filled with filthy water. A $5 bill was clipped to the high end and my job was to shimmy my way to it. (Why am I always shimmying poles?) With my glasses pushed tight to my face, my stringy blonde hair moved back and forth as I slid myself toward my goal. I wore my lucky shorts Granny Smith green with pink piping and “my 4th of July” shirt red and blue striped off-brand Izod.
A crowd gathered.
I wanted that $5 and the glory that came with it. With that $5, I could buy enough candy to satisfy my aching sweet tooth and with that glory came a lifetime of bragging rights. “The greased pole in the Hollow in Barnstable? Yeah, I did that.”
I entered a competition today. This one does not involve poles, pits, or Crisco. It does involve money and Jen and I have both agreed that we will do (almost) anything for money.
Uncommon Goods invited us to submit designs for an iPhone case and after slathering myself in Crisco, I submitted some designs. I know you’ve seen these before. I’m really into recycling.
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Hang Your Skirt On The Flagpole Day
I know that Native Americans can anticipate the change of seasons by paying close attention to the subtle signs in nature. I’ve been doing that too.
Sign number one was seeing a rat splattered on the street in front of my house. When the rats crawl out of the sewers it means we are in for a serious drought. Or that I need to move.
Sign number two was seeing a man peeing on the side of my garage. When a man pees on the side of your garage it means that I need to move.
Okay, the school year is fizzling out like a dud of a firecracker and that’s good because I’ve seen those mangled hands and it is difficult to fill in those little SAT bubbles with a nub-hand.
Once Upon A Time, I made the difficult transition from Catholic Grade School to Catholic High School this meant going from blue and green plaid skirts to brown and gray plaid skirts. THIS meant that I had to inch my way up the school’s flagpole and fly my skirt like a flag.
Just like Hayley Mills (in The Trouble With Angels!) sans cigarette.
It’s not too late to send your favorite graduate from the Class of 2012 a Zeichen Press card stuffed with money!
(You’re welcome, graduates.) -
Heavy Metal Type
One fully loaded California Job Case weighs as much as I do and I have spent the week proving this.
We are in the process of rearranging the shop and I am in the process of atoning for my sins via physical labor my hair shirt is at the cleaners and flip-flops don’t hold small rocks like Uggs.
Here’s how it works: I carefully slide one 100 lb case out of the cabinet and onto the floor.
And then I do that, like, 60 more times.
If I realize there is a case of type I need on the bottom of the pile, I simply pick up each and every case on top of that case and create another pile on the floor.
At some point, intern(s) get involved.
Their apprenticeship is very old-school: They sort type/hate me. That’s how they used to do it in the good ol’ days, I’m just trying to keep tradition alive.They’ll thank me later.
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Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
Who’s the fairest one of all?
There is SO much happening around here! First, I had to bait a squirrel trap
to catch the Kitchen-Squirrel. I was going to fill the trap with my kitchen garbage (her favorite) but I decided to go for something more bourgeois: Skippy Peanut Butter.And then there was a serious decision to make: Which card would Paper Source like more?
I hope we chose wisely because one of our lives (Jen’s) is on the line.Oh, and I didn’t forget that it is Valentine’s Day today, I am very romantic. Here is proof:
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Meat Suits And Building A Fan Base
For Immediate Release: In an attempt to build the Zeichen Press Fan Base, Jen Shea and Fran Shea will appear on a local cable-access show locked in a cell and covered in Fancy Feast. 1,000 cats will be released into the cell through a small hatch. Fran and Jen will sing a medley of famous duets, including Islands In the Stream, Endless Love, and You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.
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Inspiration Constipation Frustration
I’ve been told that life is full of challenges. And I’m sure that, someday, I’ll encounter one. I hope it’s not a shipwreck or banishment. …I will probably contract the Ebola Virus. I designed a card for myself in preparation.
Oh, but here’s a more “buyable” card for those of us that need encouragement:
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HIGH FIVE!
In the belly of the Good Ship Whistlesnot sat two strangers one called Captain Fatchtinkle and the other, Timtim Lipskin.
They chatted like two gentlemen between rounds of whiskey-pong and Password and it wasn’t long before discovering they shared a passion for shuffleboard.
A friendship was born!
(To be continued…)
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Understanding Your Target Demographic
Hello.
My name is Pevenshire Wiffynuts and I’m here today to talk about targeting your demographic. Whether you are marketing adult diapers, cowboy hats, or cemetery plots, it is critical that you understand your audience. That may mean that you have to poop in your pants, herd cows, or bury a loved one.
Don’t be afraid to do these things they will help you effectively move product and change lives.
Wow! Thanks, Pevenshire.
I hear what you’re saying I ripped off my mom-mask to reveal the face of an eight-year-old-boy so I could create this birthday card:
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Fairy Tales And True Tales
The poor peasant said it best, “even if we had only one and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.”
If Fairy Tales were true, hedgehogs would speak and donkeys would spew gold. And poor old peasants could wish and receive tiny children.
I wrote a Fairy Tale about an old childless couple and a duck. Inspired by true events. In the story, there is a duck, a baby, and an angry mob.
But I’ve said too much!
I’ll get that published someday but MEANWHILE here is a card for the new parent it features a disgruntled chick.
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Have You Seen This Baby?
I’ve nursed a few babies in my day and that makes me an expert on sacrifice.
It does.
Or is it laziness? Making a bottle seemed like so much work! …Get out of my cozy bed, walk all the way to the kitchen, measure and pour powdered formula into a bottle, warm water in pan on stove, add water to bottle, test temperature
OR
lift up my shirt.
Anyway, I made a card for the new mother:
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General Sherman’s Men Are Praying For You
Isn’t that a comforting thought?
If I had a tumor, I’d want a group of strangers to pray it away.
Less messy than surgery.
Also, if I could train a field-full of meerkats to pray for me, I would.
That would be adorable.Thanks (or no thanks) to Facebook, phrases that were once packed with meaning, are like a watered-down drink: You are in our prayers… We are all praying for you…
These, followed by a frowny-face đ are now much more common than a hand-written note.
đ x 1,000!
Someday we’ll create Encouragement Cards for the most grievous of events (will we??) but how about those events that still deserve more than a Facebook comment? How about: sewage backups, low-risk operations, stomach flus, power-outtages, lost dogs, lost luggage, car-jackings, rat-infestations, or hauntings?
Not quite tragic but still entitled to a show of support. A card like this (IN THE MAILBOX) would cheer a person up posthaste:
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Hands-Free Forever
It was time for The Sign Of Peace, and as all members of the congregation turned to offer their hand for a firm shaking, I slowly let my sleeve swallow my hand.
With a forlorn look and one missing hand, I imagined the gasps of concern for my deformity. I turned to the family in the pew behind me they would wonder if I was born crippled or if my hand had been lost in a bloody accident. I was eager to extend my handless arm, my face already prepared and appropriately pitiful.
Oh, but why do parents have to crush their children’s fantasies?
And here’s another story about hands:
I took woodshop in highschool.
I did. I was the only girl. The room was filled with dangerous power-tools and I secretly hoped for the “automatic A” decribed by the teacher: ”If a student is dumb enough to sever a finger or an entire hand, they will receive an automatic A.”
Unfortunately, I successfully made a box:
Speaking of hands, here’s a new card: