Where’s my unpaid intern?

published by Fran Shea

WHERE??? If I have to work on this catalog layout for 10 more seconds I’m going to quit my job. I will instantly rehire myself just so I can quit again. This could go on for days. Of COURSE I couldn’t just work with the catalog copy  in Adobe InDesign – I HAD to use a WWII era typewriter. A Smith-Corona Skyriter to type in each individual bit of information about all 100 products. What is wrong with me?

webskyriter1

 

I actually cheated in “keyboarding I AND II” in high school. Don’t ask me how. DON’T ASK ME. 

Jen is just dying to say, “I told you so.” Just shut up, Jen. Why must  you take the place of my underdeveloped sensibilities?

Waist-deep snow

published by Fran Shea

Day Two.   Snow fell through the night and drifted into the passage. The women and children are weaker today. Kenneth is ailing and must be dragged on a make-shift sledge. Robert appears to be delusional and only can speak of thick-cut bacon and death metal. The dogs are starting to look delicious, especially the fluffy one. We are, most certainly, in a predicament.

Edmund in deep snow

•••••

Um, here’s a new card – inspired by the men, women, and children that ventured West .

Donner Camp

The Donner (Birthday) Party

I’ll tell you what

published by Fran Shea

Uh. December is, like, over. I don’t even care. Good riddance you ungrateful pig. You think you’re so great with your Christmas and your Hanukkah and your Britney Spears’ birthday. I’ve had it. I think we all have. Even with all of these Feast Days I managed to squeeze in our long-awaited catalog creation. And don’t think I forgot about my 25-birthday-cards. Self-imposed deadlines are the only way to get anything done. You know what else works? Pretending someone is going to kill you if you don’t get something done. SO, I scrounged up some images and wrote some lines. Yeah, yeah – I’ve not set the type or done layouts or pulled any proofs – mere formalities. And anyway, my shop elves will do it while I’m ringing in the New Year in lovely Brainerd, Minnesota. Here are a few images/lines – they’ll be 15% funnier after I’ve had my way with them. And another thing: they’re not all birthday cards. I’m not some sort of one-trick pony.

Boys playing marbles

You make this, you live.

Good luck.

 

Man with a christmas tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shhhh. Nobody’ll even notice us.

 

Very old man

Eh? What’s that? Whose birthday? Who are you? Get out of my room.
cutting_plie_26906_lg1 
   Happy Birthday, you tool.
Man writing
…and in conclusion – quit calling me a pussy.
Sincerely,
Pevenshire Wiffynuts
_algebra_lg
x=get me the f*ck out of here.
Baby banging spoon
Congratulations.
I said, CONGRATULATIONS!
Boy with hoop
If you’re old enough to remember this game
you are probably sitting in your own urine.


Man with microscope
Thanks for coming to my birthday party, my tiny friends.
••••••••••••
Alright, that’ll do. I’ll post more after the elves work it out. Oh, and if you see a woman running around Brainerd in giant underpants and Sorel Boots it’s not me. Happy New Year!!!

 

 

 

 

No-Coast and a stock pot

published by Fran Shea

Good Lord, what a day! I got up at the crack o’ eight – Jen picked me up and brought me to the MidTown Market to hawk our goods. It was the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! We were pretty much SiameseTwins – due to my crippling Math Anxiety, I can’t be left alone to make change for a twenty. I welcome your prayers. I smiled lots and said, “four dollars” or “five dollars” whenever I felt like it. Sometimes it was in response to a customer’s question. Here are some customers: notice their intense cheerfulness:

three-females-at-our-table

three-males-at-our-table
I did manage to step away from our table to find a crinkly cat bag for My Mother-in-Law. She’s gonna frickin’ love it. Those cats are gonna thank me by walking by me and not noticing I exist. It’ll be one awesome Christmas.

…Fast forward, like, eight hours and I found myself at a delightful Holiday Party. I think it was in Plymouth. Anyway, the halls were decked, the booze was flowing. The booze was flowing. In retrospect, I don’t think it all wanted to be in my body. I’m not sure why, at the time, I thought it did want to be in there. And honestly, there wasn’t a lot of  room, what with all the spanakopita . I was planning on giving it all up in a stock pot that Katie generously donated to the car. I felt the love. I did make it home, with a clean stock pot, and Kenny dumped me into bed. He was like a hunter and I was like a deer carcass. The bed was the pick-up truck. It was so much fun. I dragged my sorry arse out of bed this morning to for churching. The stock pot is a symbol of one woman’s redemption. So much can happen in a day.

stock-pot-with-bulletin

PS: Did you know that 80’s glasses are back in style?? You crazy kids!80s-glasses

SO. MANY. WORDS.

published by Fran Shea

Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo. What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care! Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’s super sweet:

Touchpoint Mixpak

St. Frances

published by Fran Shea

I nearly took that martyr shortcut last night.  Jen drove her teeny-tiny Honda  and our brand-new printer got to ride shotgun while I sat in the back with Loretta.

Loretta, screaming sweet nothings

She was very busy screaming sweet nothings in my ear, while Jen was trying to drive with an 80 pound boxed laser

Dr. Evil

printer resting gently on her right hand, her rear-view mirror tilted helpfully at the ceiling. She wasn’t applying make-up so I guess she didn’t really need it. I told Loretta that she was lucky because the last thing she’d ever see was my face. She screamed louder and I handed her my iPhone. Sometimes Jen would ask me if it was “safe” to switch lanes. I always told her yes because in the grand scheme of things isn’t it always safe to switch lanes? We actually made it home. I kissed the ground. Loretta screamed and cried goodbye and they drove away.

“dial B for Birthday”

published by Fran Shea

I’ve set a goal for myself. 25 birthday cards by January 1. Patina wants more birthday cards and dammit they are going to get more birthday cards. Why am I sucking up to that cutesy pootsy boutique? Because I LOVE IT. Oh, how I love it… If Patina carried a coffin, I would kill myself just to be buried in it.

Here’s a new card. – Designed on the computer, soon to be a plate, soon to be inked, soon to be part of our illustrious line.

"dial B for Birthday"

 

By the way, I AM counting the Trader Joe’s rejects in my 25. So, 25-8=17. I used a calculator. Seriously.

It’s Christless time!

published by Fran Shea

Time for more corporate holiday cards! My Big Brother owns Tanek, the coolest (of course) architectural firm in the Midwest. Every year they ask us to bring some of our freshest (dopest) designs to their table. We drop whatever we’re doing (eating) and hop to.  This year I’ve created a couple of things:

taneksnowflakekerned-prop1

subtlehalftone-peppermint

The humor is subtle. Just like me.

I think this one should have been chosen last year:

tanek-paper-dolls

But no. It was voted down. Apparently the Tanek Leaders didn’t want to be seen in their fictional underpants. Prudes.