Sunday 25 February 2007

shits indeed...

I have doodoo for brains.

Note to self: do not take your zine to the printers when you haven't slept for 40 hours, 'cos you'll fuck it up.

Who knew photocopiers clip pages? Apparently they too, like printers, have margin allowances. Silly ol' me printed 20 copies of the zine, only to realise that the Kinko's machine had sheared off 3mm on every side. How rude! I then tried slightly reducing the page, but this made half text illegible. So my vexed self returned to the mind-numbing world of Photoshop again. I spent 2 hours reducing pages, changing fonts, printing blah...

As well as cerebral hemispheres full of faeces, I also happen to hate editing. Seriously. I rarely proofread anything, not even phone texts. So I failed to realise that the text I had used for the second layout was copied from an older layout had typos and missing text.

I headed back to Kinkos where the staff had spent their time reading my discarded copies from earlier. Cue the dismayed glances. Who said "smut peddler"? I copied the new layout, guillotined for an hour then put it together and out crawled another hiccup.

Anyway, in addition to my editing-hatin'-shit-filled-cranium, I have a bad case Tight Assitis. Thus, I couldn't be bothered to print out another hundred pages -think of the trees! (and my wallet). Consequently the paper zine is WONKY, it's the Flava Flav of bedroom publications i.e. messed up but still loveable. Apologies, but that adds charm right?

Oh yea, I also accidently lopped off some of the edges of a few pages, botched some fonts (you'll need specs to read 'em), and even crapped up the stapling. Typical.

Woe is me.

Not to worry though. I shall post up the pages in large type either tonight or tomorrow.


This post is longer than planned. I could read and cut out the emphemera, but I would consider that editing, and like I already said, I don't do that shit.

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