The intern packed up her carpetbag and rode away. I felt like we should hug but we didn’t – hugs are best left out of print shops. She made this before she left:
Go, my young grasshopper, go and use the life-skills I so generously shared with you.
I regret not jumping into Lake Superior last week. I’m kidding, I don’t regret that. I regret not pushing that weird guy into Lake Superior last week. He was yelling, “the effing dog ate my pills! The effing dog ate my pills!” That poor wiener dog was trying to end its own sad life. Anyway, here’s a photo of Lucy and Jenny braving the frigid waters:
Lake Superior is the poor man’s ocean, just like my Reprex
(notice the vice grips)
is the poor man’s Vandercook.
But I must make do.
I must make do because that’s how I was programmed. The project du jour is a print involving lots of words. And because I’m a daredevil, I decided to lock up the type in a vertical formation. This is not for the faint of heart. The type and I both felt creepy when it was over and now we can’t even make eye contact.
The third instructional video is complete for the Jelly Shot Test Kitchen. If only children could drink alcohol these would be perfect for a Summer birthday party.
I have noticed that a lot of people around me have “plans” and “schedules.” That is something I’ve always wanted. Even my days of “working outside of the home” seemed haphazardous. I never knew if or how I’d get to work – would it be the city bus? My friend’s pick-up truck? A ride from a stranger? On foot? A police escort? Would I be able to pull-off a cup of coffee before work? Everyone talked about that – the coffee. “Whew, I barely had time for my coffee this morning, the dog just wouldn’t do his business!” They had coffee pots with timers – they’d wake up to the smell and sound of a fresh brewing pot. They’d fill their travel mugs and commute to work.
Why couldn’t I be like these people?
My snooze button (invented by the devil) would be pushed at least twice, granting me temporary amnesty – more time to dream about using inappropriately located toilets. A shower could happen but more than likely would not. Teeth brushed just in time to smoke a cigarette and tie my son’s shoes.
I know what you’re thinking: Glamorous.
A few weeks ago, I started doing the unthinkable: Waking up early and not forcing myself to fall back to sleep.
I actually get out of bed.
I get out of bed, make a smoothie filled with micro-nutrients and whole-food concentrate and go for a bike ride. It seems that other people DO THIS TOO. The paths are full of “others.”
I haven’t decided if I hate myself for being one of these people. Time will tell.
Anyway, number 7 of the Shea 8 will be getting married this Summer and she needed a program – I gladly volunteered and these were created yesterday:
They will contain a disc of music from the ceremony. Understated and cool. Just like my sister. Notice my crummy thumbnail in the upper-left.
(why is she so angry all the time??) is getting married this weekend and I designed/Jen printed some invitations for the blessed event.
The event will be very celebrity-heavy. By “celebrity” I mean “family.” It will be full of family. You can crash the wedding if you want – but no pictures. Just kidding. Take pictures – I can’t stop you.
Pat Carney stumbled into our dimension on Friday for the Gute photo shoot.
Edmund made latte after latte while Loretta babbled in the background. We think she was talking about Pam the kitten/her prisoner. Anyway, I had to punch Pat in the face to get one latte away from him for a prop. He took it like a man. Except for the tears.
My mind wandered as I listened to the Second Reading. I wondered if I could get my hands on a chocolate milk for lunch. I watched the third graders fidget. I planned my fishing-themed diorama. …Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth… I figured out what the initials TGIF stood for oh, that makes sense! …I felt something crawl up my uniform blouse.
I felt something crawl up my uniform blouse! Or did I? The question went unanswered because, like Abraham Lincoln in the balcony of Ford’s Theater, I’d been shot. Most likely, an assassination plot carried out by those boys that dumped Mountain Dew on my head last week. Oh, the pain! I signaled my teacher and was escorted to the nurses office by a girl that needed a hero badge to add to her girl scout sash.
The nurses office was familiar to me. Homesickness was an ailment I suffered from semi-regularly.
When I staggered through the door, the nurse stopped her mimeographing and looked at me. I pointed to my gunshot wound nearish my right armpit but closer to a more embarrassing region. She lifted up my blouse. I stared at the poster on the wall.
Yes, kitten. I will hang in there.
It turned out not to be a bullet lodged in my ribcage, but a bee sting.
In honor of that important event, I created my own Hang in There! card. Do not accuse me of ripping off the original, it is an homage. An HOMAGE.
I think that means Seize Mother’s Day. But maybe not – I am really only fluent in Pig-Latin.
As far as I know, we all have mothers. I don’t think Science has done away with that yet. And I’m going to boldly state that the majority of readers of the Is That Funny blog love their mothers. Why? My research shows that people who $*#%-ing love Zeichen Press also $*#%-ing love their mothers. My research involved a picture-day slideshow and ham salad sandwiches. Also, $50 bills stuffed in a pińata. It was unorthodox but revealing.
You still have time to order a Mother’s Day card (and a card for your Mother-In-Law, dear God, DO NOT FORGET HER) from the shop! We will ship it to you so you have time to send (or give) it to mom.
But, don’t let me tell you what to do. I mean, if you don’t want to celebrate your mom (OR mother-in-law!) on this one day of the year, that’s your decision. I’m sure she won’t be hurt at all. It will never be brought up again.
Once Upon A Time, there lived a woman who tried and tried to cram a live chicken into a cooking pot. The chicken would not oblige and finally the woman had to accept the notion that live chickens will never submit to such unnatural behavior. Rather than chop off the chicken’s head, they became companions and live in an abandoned mine shaft. The End
I have dozens of stories like that, just waiting to be published. That reminds me: I was trying really, really hard to write a Father’s Day card. This is what I came up with:
At brunch, George Lucas asked me to write a Father’s Day card that suggests a theme from the Star Wars Trilogy but warned me not to use any of the Star Wars imagery. It was a strange request but I accepted the challenge and after tossing back our mimosas, we arm-wrestled and I made this:
One child crawls through a tunnel made of other children the crawling child is spanked on the bottom by each participant. The spankers laugh hysterically.
The concept of automated and industrial scale corporal punishment originated in 19th century Russia.
It’s true!
I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say that the concept has evolved from judicial whipping of peasants to tunnels of birthday abuse for today’s schoolchildren.
A good friend of mine turned XX (not Roman numerals) and she has such fond memories of the Spanking Machine!
I’m over here! No… HERE! The one waving her arms and jumping up and down! …The one wearing the poncho and helmet!
She must not see me.
She did mention Zeichen Press on her blog. And she did buy cards from our online shop. I thought that meant she wanted to hang out and talk about black bean chili with butternut squash and swiss chard?
Judy was tired of being stuck upstairs. She longed for the streets. She longed for adventure. She longed for danger.
Day after day, trapped by that drooling, excitable houseguest. It was just too much. She had only one choice: jump off the balcony. Thank goodness the deck broke her fall. This wasn’t the first time she threw caution to the wind. It was, in fact, the third. Words are unnecessary when there is photographic evidence of this nature (if you are squeamish, scroll no more):
That’s what a tail looks like when all of the nice stuff has been ripped off of it. Or, as the vet told me, “degloved.” We can’t imagine what she did in the cat world to deserve that treatment.
Just when we stopped crying ourselves to sleep, she came home looking like a BP oil spill casualty.Meow!
Poor Judy, only six lives left. Use them wisely.
Judy happens to be my mother’s name and so this is the perfect way to introduce a new Mother’s Day card:And just to keep it fair, here is a Father’s Day card:
I tell my kids that I don’t want anything for my birthday. I tell them that I have everything I need.
But I’m lying.
The truth is, I need the following items:
Wait, I needed them in 1984. Never mind. But they would come in handy now. Especially that “waterproof” walkman. (It’s not, I repeat: NOT waterproof). Also, (for the record) that Ouija Board (why was Parker Bros. into the occult?) didn’t even work. It was merely the hors d’oeuvre for the Slumber Party Game: Light As a Feather/Stiff As a Board. Um, if I caught my daughter and her friends playing that game, I’d be like, I GET TO TELL THE STORY AND CUT THE PRETEND HOLE IN THE FOREHEAD AND FILL IT WITH SAND.
Oh, I wouldn’t… I’d be more like, YOU GIRLS GET TO BED, ENOUGH OF YOUR WITCHCRAFT.
ALSO, that PacMan tray should only be used for craft projects. Never for food in bed. NEVER FOR FOOD IN BED.
Hmm, I guess I really don’t need anything.
PS: Thanks mom, for life!
PPS: Don’t worry, this is not a Holy Day of Obligation.
Cash Mobs are a happy sort and their motivation has nothing to do with drawing or quartering. Cash Mobs support local businesses by encouraging shoppers to spend $20 at an independent boutique on a designated day.
Isn’t this a beautiful and simple concept? I promise it won’t turn into a Black Friday Walmart thing. Leave your pepper spray at home.
i like you is next on the list. (Saturday, April 14.) Have you ever been?! You will be reduced to a giggling mess.