Blog - New Cards

They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab — a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still. 

Strange!

No, not strange:

Like Bread & Pickle (LOVE their lattes) but it serves turkey chowder in an air-sickness bag. 

Life is full of gratitude and regret. Both should be acknowledged. Hopefully via a Zeichen Press card. I am sure that if we all thoroughly examined our consciences, we would discover a whole room of regret. That room would be furnished with a urine-stained futon, a musty trunk, and an ash tray. That’s sad!

CONVERSELY, the gratitude room is full of Daylilies and cookie jars.

Here are some cards for both occasions: And don’t act like you don’t need both cards.

We still love you.

There was a pet store in my neighborhood (Petcetera) that had all kinds of fascinating creatures. The best creature was a full-size (5 feet, from snout to tip of tail) alligator in a steel tub. The tub had a makeshift screen cover so that the alligator couldn’t escape.

A screen cover. 

So the ALLIGATOR couldn’t escape.

I think it was drugged anyway — it just laid there, blinking it’s beautiful eyes.

Of course there were snakes, and I don’t know much about snakes, but what I do know is pretty scientifically accurate. When snakes speak, they drag out their s’s. They’re usually pretty shy but if you give one a frozen mouse they are your friend for at least 5 seconds.

The Craftstravaganza is o-v-e-r. And in case you missed it, Jen gave a stirring performance as Janet Jackson circa 1989 – here’s a photo I took at the event, right before she threw down her cardboard and got totally into it. 

That was really something.

Also, and I don’t know why, I made this card after the show:Happy Mother’s Day, all you mothers!!

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.

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:

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:)