Well, Susie hasnt had her kittens yet and like every other overdue/expecting mother she is watching Oprah and eating tubs of Ben & Jerrys.
Meanwhile, I biked through the Heat
to bring Fred a card so he could photograph it. It isnt any ordinary card it is the card to introduce our new website.
Arent you intrigued?? It must say something sweet just look at that cute little bellhop! Ive been waiting to use him for a long time thanks, cute little bellhop!
Our transition from the Cape included a stay in Boston.
Boston is best experienced on-foot and with a tour guide dressed as Dorothy Quincy Hancock.
The next picture is for Andrea. (Edmund loved the Westin).
Okay, fun’s over. Back to the muggy wall of heat – we walked out of the Minneapolis airport and I felt like someone wrapped me in 100 electric blankets.
… remember when I told you about this?? I don’t know a lot but I do know that this belly is full of kittens. They are due in a few days – and I swear to God, if any of you take one home – I will repay you in strange and creative ways.
One more thing: The pile of mail, collected by Jen, contained this:
After a harrowing day at the beach, I had to stop into the Brewster General Store
to check out their card selection – one thing is clear: they might have enough rubber lobsters but they do need some letterpress from Minnesota. I will see what I can do about that.
A day at the beach always includes:
That poor thing has been around for such a long time.
I remember some sort of Mexican-standoff In an early apartment that involved my roommate, dirty dishes and refried beans. Neither of us wanted to do the dishes and so they were stacked, teetering on the counter – pots and plates on top of other pots and plates – the bottom of the pile forgotten like a lost tribe. My roommate, a vegetarian, had a particular pot that she favored for heating her refried beans – she used this day after day until one day it was forgotten – and the pot joined the pile. But not before she filled it with water, she believed in the pre-soak method. I’m not sure how much time passed – a forensic scientist would be able to determine that based on the evidence in the kitchen.
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:
A strange custom:
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 made her a card:
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?
You can totally call me, Alexis!
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:
Step right up, step right up!
It’s here, a cure for all that ails! Do you suffer from one (or more) of the following complications?:
Bumpy skin?
Webbed toes?
Nagging wife?
No? How about?:
Limp tongue?
Rotting scalp?
Too many fingers?
Fear not! Just one purchase of a Zeichen Press letterpress greeting card will set you on the proper path to wellness!
(The following photographs are guaranteed to cure any inflammation:)
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.
No.
Normally, mobs carry pitchforks and torches but Cash Mobs are different.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5zUAnIaD4I
How?
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.
Just step over the girls.
