I’m not sure if he was gently curb-stomped, or he bit into a fresh apple. Either way, he lost his front teeth.
I’m not sure if he was gently curb-stomped, or he bit into a fresh apple. Either way, he lost his front teeth.
Do you fantasize about a service that would lick your stamps (and mail awesome cards to a list of people in your address book)??
YOU DO??
Have you heard of Postable??

Did I mention that there are Zeichen Press cards in their line?? (NOT letterpress printed, BUT STILL.)
Now there really is zero excuse to NOT send a card IN THE MAIL.
*Stay tuned: Postable will be adding MORE Zeichen Press cards this week.*
WAIT, I didn’t mention the most important part:
Does Jen hate letterpress printing SO much that I have to create and license all of the art and farm it off to art licensing companies??
Maybe.
The latest for RSVP:
I know one thing for sure. ONE THING. Jen would really hate to print these multi-colored designs. She makes me live in a monochromatic world. But see how I defy?? FIVE colors??
FIVE.
And now they want more cards! FINE.
I’m such a rebel.
Tanek demanded a new website, and who am I to argue??
I just do what I’m told.
I designed/art directed it and the good folks at Carney, made my wishes their command.
Observe the fancy bells and whistles!
Rollovers… PDF Downloads… Video Portraits…
And observe what you WON’T observe: My own, personal, Content Management System.
It’s okay to cry. It’s beautiful.
Did I even see Jen on her birthday last week??
Hmm, I don’t think so… But I still made her a card because my love for her just bubbles over and soils the stovetop with a sort of gravy that becomes crusty and has to be scraped off months later with steel wool and maybe a knife.
Whew!
That’s a lot of love!
GET IT?!?! CAT-SUP???
Omg, it just doesn’t stop over here!
The New York International Gift Fair (NYIGF) wrapped up (sans blizzard). I wasn’t there (I never am) but it must have been a huge success because our rep is faxing orders to us
faster than we can pull them.
Fax machines work just like Wonkavision and every day I hope to find a chocolate bar instead of an order. But for now, I must be satisfied with ink on paper.
I complain about January, but secretly, I love it. In January, my skin returns to its natural pasty-white color. I know this because I disrobe weekly for a quick shower and pat myself down with a damp towel. That’s not true, I also see my bare legs as I change from my pajama pants to my less-pajama-ish pants.
But enough about my enchanting facade, onto the chewy nougat:
Jen has almost finished printing the cards for our March Release.
I can’t wait for her to be finished because then we can get back to all of our gabbing.
While I am forced to sit quietly with my own thoughts, I decided to be productive — I made two new cards: Guess which one will become an uncategorized orphan:

Jen is printing the new cards for the March release and I have decided to wear the off-brand Forever Lazy suit until April 1.
The following is a dramatization of me wearing the suit.
But I don’t need to tell you that.
Sometimes it’s hard to stay humble. Luckily, humility is one of my greatest traits. That, and my perfect attitude and face make it difficult for everyone around me to go about their average lives.
Wait, let me throw down a little manna:
When Nature and Civilization collide it sounds just like stirring twelve tin cans in the bathtub with a golf club. This sound, combined with another sound—the sound of a pair of teeny-tiny hands strangling a pigeon.
I laid in bed for 1…2…3…4…5 hours and listened to, what I concluded was, a pigeon trapped behind the flashing on my house.
A squirrel met its maker (Bruce Hornsby) that same way last Summer. But not before it spent several days running itself to death. Was the pigeon luckier? It shivered in the cold until shortly before dawn. Like the Little Match Girl, it shivered to death, clutching a clawful of burnt matches.
We have a client that needs graphics for its trucks so while I listened to the pathetic cries of the dying pigeon, I thought about that.
It was a productive night.
A surprise birthday party is 1,000% more fun than a regular birthday party. The planners plan for weeks – sending out secret invitations:
Unearthing senior photos to print on drink coasters:
And finally the moment arrives!
Hello, January. I hate you. Not as much as February, but I still hate you. I tell my children that you are full of fun and possibilities but I am lying.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NOJIYe6qoI
Perhaps this card captures my true feelings:
Sometimes (not very often) I find myself at a loss for words. Speechless. Struck dumb by powerful emotion. “I’m stunned. I mean, I’m in a state of… somebody should just throw a blanket over me, you know?” – Woody Allen (Manhattan)
Sometimes an empathy card is better than a sympathy card.
Sometimes a bear playing violin says it all.
Jen told me that she is learning to master Quickbooks. I trust her.
I bet that the Quickbooks tutorial requires puzzle completion before you really get into the meat of the application—just to make sure the user is nimble-minded.
The New Year is upon us and to celebrate I stood on a chair, my head surrounded by asbestos wrapped pipes, and counted envelopes.
Jen said this was called taking inventory and while I am familiar with this as a spiritual concept, with a priest and confessional handy, I was easily distracted because the priest and confessional were replaced by the dog and a bin of Bazooka bubble gum.
These items were not on Jen’s list
but I think that was a potentially expensive oversight. Just to be on the safe side, I counted one dog named Millie and 34 pieces of Bazooka.
You’re welcome, Jen.
Winter has been creeping in like a gas leak and I am always pleasantly surprised to find myself awake in the morning. 
“That’s nice.” I say, as I stretch and crawl off my sofa-bed. Never one to miss nuance, I wonder why I’m not in my own bed.
Good design sometimes requires getting into character – I’ve been dressing like a gypsy (not showering) for our latest Tanek project. A paper fortune teller is easier to mail than a crystal ball and some might argue – more accurate. Tanek will send 300 of these out to their dearest friends – I only hope they take the responsibility of predicting the future seriously:

