I have the weirdest fucking job.
Hey gang. I've been meaning to spring blog-ward for days now. So many very funny things to share with you all. Things that will make you ache from laughing. Things that will make you pee your pants. Things that will make you bleed from the eyes.
Jesus. Okay, not the bleeding from the eyes. Somebody should take my keyboard away when I get rolling like that.
Anyway, I promise hilarity in the near future, but not just right this second because I have to go do a very important job for Santa.
See, before I was a globe-trotting freelance illustrator-about-town, I did art for this company that is... how to say this? In the Santa biz. They are the leader in designing Christmas decor for shopping malls, casinos, etc... I don't mean wreaths and banners - well, yes, I do mean wreaths and banners, but also the large theatrical environments that Santa hangs out in. It is occasionally very interesting, artistic and challenging work. I swear to god.
It's also fucking weird though, because it means that in the middle of July, you are busting your ass designing and drawing the north pole, and the elves, and the sleighs, and so on, and so on. My professional life for the last decade has been positively filled with candy canes and shiny red ornaments.
Anyway, this company, which was once my employer, has remained my biggest client. And please don't get me wrong... I love them for it, and they are the reason I can still put food on my wife and dress my plates up in the finest clothes. But they are also the reason that I now saddle up and head to Pennsylvania. See, in addition to doing a metric ton of artwork for Santa Inc, (not the real name) I also help out with some of the more nuts-and-bolts aspects of filling these malls with decor.
So I'm off to measure a few malls in PA to make sure that Santa and all his crap will fit in them.
It's more complicated that that, actually, but why bore you with the details?
Okay, okay... Why continue to bore you with the details?
All of this has just been my pointlessly wordy way of saying "Got a business trip, and I'll blog ya later." Hey, maybe something really funny will happen in Pennsylvania and I can tell you all about it when I get back!
I'm just kidding. Nothing funny happens in Pennsylvania. Except maybe for those hats the Amish dudes wear.
Jesus. Okay, not the bleeding from the eyes. Somebody should take my keyboard away when I get rolling like that.
Anyway, I promise hilarity in the near future, but not just right this second because I have to go do a very important job for Santa.
See, before I was a globe-trotting freelance illustrator-about-town, I did art for this company that is... how to say this? In the Santa biz. They are the leader in designing Christmas decor for shopping malls, casinos, etc... I don't mean wreaths and banners - well, yes, I do mean wreaths and banners, but also the large theatrical environments that Santa hangs out in. It is occasionally very interesting, artistic and challenging work. I swear to god.
It's also fucking weird though, because it means that in the middle of July, you are busting your ass designing and drawing the north pole, and the elves, and the sleighs, and so on, and so on. My professional life for the last decade has been positively filled with candy canes and shiny red ornaments.
Anyway, this company, which was once my employer, has remained my biggest client. And please don't get me wrong... I love them for it, and they are the reason I can still put food on my wife and dress my plates up in the finest clothes. But they are also the reason that I now saddle up and head to Pennsylvania. See, in addition to doing a metric ton of artwork for Santa Inc, (not the real name) I also help out with some of the more nuts-and-bolts aspects of filling these malls with decor.
So I'm off to measure a few malls in PA to make sure that Santa and all his crap will fit in them.
It's more complicated that that, actually, but why bore you with the details?
Okay, okay... Why continue to bore you with the details?
All of this has just been my pointlessly wordy way of saying "Got a business trip, and I'll blog ya later." Hey, maybe something really funny will happen in Pennsylvania and I can tell you all about it when I get back!
I'm just kidding. Nothing funny happens in Pennsylvania. Except maybe for those hats the Amish dudes wear.
posted by CommonWombat at 2:13 AM
9 Comments:
Have fun. You know, you would miss this kind of work if you were not doing it anymore. I know I do!
Hey! Be careful in Pennsylvania - have you seen that film Witness?!
You know what's funny about PA? You can't swing a rubber dildo without hitting an adult video store.
Be sure to get you some good Amish food while you're there.
do amish people eat kibbles or bits?
Actually, a very funny thing happens in Pennsylvania (southeastern region only) when a native pronounces W-A-T-E-R. heee.
I once dated a guy who worked for a co. in NYC that did all the corporate property holiday decorations!
So, do you have any kind of "in" with Santa himself? Because I have done some not-so-admirable things this year that I don't want to be penalized for come gift-exchange time. Can you put in a good word for me? Tell him I helped an old lady find her bedpan or something. Tell him I rescued a little kid from a burning meth lab or something. Make some shit up; the old man won't know the diff.
I really don't see any possible way you couldn't have fun in Pennsylvania in September preparing to outfit a mall for Christmas. It's just not possible.
We'll miss you.
Maybe Christmas will come early and you'll run into some Amish Tranny Hookers.
Hey, now -- I live in PA and some pretty damn funny things happen here ... in fact, one did today ... YOU arrived on my doorstep! And it was very cool to see you, my friend. I really think you should blog about the jabinkin' rule and crankcase oil! Or the Blair Bitch party ...now wait, my I'll blog about that on my own blog ... yeah, that's the ticket!!
Cheers,
Melissa
aka Madam Dog Butt
I will testify that Madam Dog Butt threw what had to be the BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY EVER with the Blair Bitch extravaganza. Seriously, it rocked. You should write about that one, Baker...but it probably won't capture the sheer terror of the evening.
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