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)
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:
PHEW!
My Faith in Humanity was fortified! I bought a tripod from a stranger on Craiglist and he made no mention of kidnappng, torturing, OR skinning me.
Now I can stumble my way through taking photographs of the new cards!
The Craigslist man assured me (three times) that the tripod was the "real deal" so that should help.
As if that wasn't fulfilling enough, I realized my calling as a social media doula by gently helping Tanek onto Facebook.
It was beautiful — I bawled like a baby and insisted on bare-bottom spankings. I was told that was "unprofessional".
Here's a new release teaser:
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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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:
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.
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:
The Christmas Tree lot shack doubled as a meth-lab and while I admire ingenuity and entrepreneurship, I like my Holiday Traditions to be more "cozy-by-the-fire" and less "mix-up-a-batch-in-the-tub."
BUT THAT'S JUST ME.
The "lot" contained exactly eight trees but due to a Christmas Miracle, we found the perfect tree!
We only had to retie the tree back onto the car once. To be fair, cooking meth doesn't really prepare a person for handling Christmas Trees.
My Jewish friends don't have these stories and this saddens me, so I made them a card:
