Funny LaplandNº 001
Still Here. Both Of Us.
They have shared one scarf since 1994. One of them said it. The other agreed, in his sleep.
$4,99 (bundle)
Downloadable anniversary postcards from Finnish Lapland, where the winters are counted together and nobody argues about the total. Print them. Send them. Keep counting.
Sold on Etsy ↗ · pay there, download instantly. No account needed here.
The Arctic Postal Service has one department nobody talks about: the Bureau of Unusual Greetings. It operates from Finnish Lapland, in the dark season, under the joint authority of an old drum and a shopping mall Santa.
The Bureau produces downloadable postcards for situations ordinary cards can't handle — when "Merry Christmas" is too little and a phone call is too much. Each one is painted, scribbled, and approved by at least one reindeer before it enters circulation.
You buy the card, the download arrives instantly, and the rest is between you, your printer, and the people on your list.
Approved · Dept. of Weird3 printable anniversary postcards, issued all year round — artwork on the front, a finished back side with address lines and a corner reserved for the stamp. Instant download: the only vow here that arrives on time.
They have shared one scarf since 1994. One of them said it. The other agreed, in his sleep.
The mugs are chipped, the antlers are tangled, and the number is nobody's business. Painted from memory, which is also unreliable.
The lantern was a wedding present. It still works, mostly. So do they.
No envelopes travel anywhere. You buy a card, and the Bureau transmits the files straight to your inbox, faster than any reindeer and ruder than any elf.
Browse the rack above. The Bureau does not judge your choices. The reindeer might.
The buy button takes you to our Etsy shop and its secure till. Files arrive instantly.
Print on any cardstock, fold nothing, sign something. The back is already ruled: address lines, stamp corner, no thinking required.
1 racks are in circulation. New issues appear when the drum feels like it — which, historically, is whenever the calendar hands it an excuse.
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