Not Hiring Kittens - Saints & martyrs

And yet, they keep applying.

They have no skills and they’re not even helpful.

They actually make more work for me plus I don’t even know whose idea it was to let Susie get pregnant again.

The only break I get from this mayhem is when I lock myself in the bathroom to cry. (Once a day.)

But I must carry on.

SO, Fred photographed the new cards and I added them to the shop – here’s a sample:

Give this card to someone with a flying phobia, they will think you’re really funny.

Christmas is just around the corner and that can only mean one (or more) thing(s): The shop is closed and the kitchen is open.

ALSO, it means that the children and animals are underfoot (more than usual) because of the 5 foot snowdrifts blocking the exits.

But don’t worry if you haven’t sent (or bought) your Christmas cards, yet! We (Jen and I, mostly Jen) are here to hold your hand straight through this blustery season! Did you know that (legally) you can send “Christmas” cards until January 6? THAT, is the official end of the Christmas Season because that’s when the Wise Men hauled it to the manger.

*Playmobile dramatization.

I used to mark the end of the Christmas Season by my son’s birthday (February 7). That day meant it was time to shove the Christmas tree out the second story window before the arrival of the birthday party guests. Now the tree stays until it becomes a fire hazard, and not a moment longer. So responsible!

So, speaking of an Epiphany: Don’t waste another minute reading this scatology! Go and buy some Seasonal Cards!

I knew it!

People always ask me, “what made you write that card?” This question is usually followed by either laughter or tears and then I am dumped on the side of the road with a pack of cigarettes and a mix-tape.

If I even had time (or could pull the gag out of my mouth) to answer, I’d say that the inspiration for each and every card is just a reaction to some experience that I’ve had. I’m not a scientist but I’m pretty sure that the brain works like a Rube Goldberg Machine. One observation leads to a series of tangents and the end result is either a small, quiet room in a mental institution or a greeting card that part of the (dark and twisted) population can relate to.

Example: My grandmother decided to spend her twilight years traveling. She and her companion wanted to tour some parts of Hawaii in a helicopter. Tragedy struck, and the helicopter and all of its passengers were smashed against the side of a volcano. The only identifying evidence available were the teeth.

What?! Yes, it’s true. That card is not a big seller in the U.S. but strangely, it’s quite popular in Canada. What does that even mean?? And now are you going to wonder if there is a story behind this card?:

There isn’t. THERE ISN’T.

That was a lot of syllables.

I’ve heard that experiencing four letterpress harbinger doppelgangers is about as rare as seeing the Virgin Mary in a pancake. I’m not saying that Zeichen Press cards predict the future, I’m just saying that some of our cards seem to foretell a subsequent event. Wait, what am I saying? Never mind, let’s just get to the evidence:

Don’t freak out. This is being investigated by the proper authorities.

I’ve never met a middle-aged man at a BP in Grantsburg and given him money for a Kitchen-Aid mixer — until now! The ZP intern was the recipient of the gift. She cried and looked like she was just crowned Princess Kay of the Milky Way.

It was beautiful.

I spent the last 56 hours holed up in my room (cell) uploading content for the new Zeichen Press website. And just to make it interesting, I didn’t shower or change my clothes. I DID leave once to get a new iPhone because my old one decided it would rather be a hot plate than a phone.

So be it/good riddance.

Done.

Do not worry. IF you can’t get your sad self to the Room and Board nearest you, you can shop online!

 It’s true. But not yet. NOT YET. The ink isn’t even dry.

Did I mention that I will be the lunchmeat between the bread named Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol? What a strange, virtual sandwich. Speaking of sandwiches: I decided to take a break from printing to do some printing and I made this:

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.

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

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.