ID00 Serif + ID00 Sans + + + ID00 Serif Round ID00 Sans ... - Playtype
ID00 Serif + ID00 Sans + + + ID00 Serif Round ID00 Sans ... - Playtype
ID00 Serif + ID00 Sans + + + ID00 Serif Round ID00 Sans ... - Playtype
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PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
1<br />
All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> +<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> +<br />
+<br />
+<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher<br />
Published: 2010<br />
Version no. 1.001/2010<br />
33 STYLES<br />
4 FAMILIES<br />
FAMILIES<br />
Id00 SANS<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> SANS ROUND<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> SERIF<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> SERIF ROUND<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> FAMILY
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> Family<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
2<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> Family<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Light<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Book<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Light<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Light Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Book Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Book<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Book<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Book Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Light<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Book<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Bold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> DemiBold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Bold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Bold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Extra Bold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Bold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Extra Bold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Extra Bold<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Heavy<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Extra Bold Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Heavy Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Heavy<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Heavy Italic
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
3<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong><br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
n n n n n n n<br />
n n n n n n n<br />
n n n n n n<br />
n n n n n n<br />
n n n<br />
n n n n
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
4<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
UPPERCASE<br />
LOVERCASE<br />
STANDARD PUNCTUATION<br />
MATH SYMBOLS<br />
CURRENCY & SYMBOLS<br />
PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
& PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
SUPERSCRIPT, SUBSCRIPT, NUMERATORS & DENOMINATORS<br />
PREBUILT FRACTIONS<br />
ACCENTED UPPERCASE<br />
ACCENTED LOVERCASE<br />
ACCENTS<br />
LIGATURES<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#01)<br />
UPPERCASE PUNCTUATION (S#02)<br />
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡<br />
¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈°<br />
$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9<br />
½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞<br />
ÆŒØÁÀÂÄÃÅĀĄĂÇĆČĈĊĎĐÐÉÈÊËĒĚĖĘĔĜĠĢĞĦĤÍÎÌÏIĨĬĮĪĴĶ<br />
ĻĿĹŁĽŊÑŃŇŅNÓÒÔÖÕŌŐØŎŔŘŖŠŚȘŞŜSSŤŢŦÚÙÛÜŪŲŮŰŬŨ<br />
ŴẂẄẀŸÝŶỲŹŽŻÞIJ<br />
æœøáàâäãåāąăçćčĉċďđðéèêëēěėęĕĝġģğħĥíîìïıĩĭįīĵķ<br />
ļŀĺłľŋñńňņʼnóòôöõōőøŏŕřŗšśșşŝßťţŧúùûüūųůűŭũŵẃẅẁÿýŷỳźžżþſĸij<br />
`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ<br />
fb fh fi fj fk fl ff ffb ffh ffi ffj ffk ffl<br />
Q<br />
H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— &R
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
5<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
UPPERCASE<br />
LOVERCASE<br />
STANDARD PUNCTUATION<br />
MATH SYMBOLS<br />
CURRENCY & SYMBOLS<br />
PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL<br />
OLDSTYLE & PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
SUPERSCRIPT, SUBSCRIPT, NUMERATORS & DENOMINATORS<br />
PREBUILT FRACTIONS<br />
ACCENTED UPPERCASE<br />
ACCENTED LOVERCASE<br />
ACCENTS<br />
LIGATURES<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#01)<br />
UPPERCASE PUNCTUATION (S#02)<br />
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡<br />
¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈°<br />
$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9<br />
½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞<br />
ÆŒØÁÀÂÄÃÅĀĄĂÇĆČĈĊĎĐÐÉÈÊËĒĚĖĘĔĜĠĢĞĦĤÍÎÌÏIĨĬĮĪĴĶ<br />
ĻĿĹŁĽŊÑŃŇŅNÓÒÔÖÕŌŐØŎŔŘŖŠŚȘŞŜSSŤŢŦÚÙÛÜŪŲŮŰŬŨ<br />
ŴẂẄẀŸÝŶỲŹŽŻÞIJ<br />
æœøáàâäãåāąăçćčĉċďđðéèêëēěėęĕĝġģğħĥíîìïıĩĭįīĵķ<br />
ļŀĺłľŋñńňņʼnóòôöõōőøŏŕřŗšśșşŝßťţŧúùûüūųůűŭũŵẃẅẁÿýŷỳźžżþſĸij<br />
`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ<br />
fb fh fi fj fk fl ff ffb ffh ffi ffj ffk ffl<br />
Q<br />
H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— &R
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
6<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
UPPERCASE<br />
LOVERCASE<br />
STANDARD PUNCTUATION<br />
MATH SYMBOLS<br />
CURRENCY & SYMBOLS<br />
PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
& PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
SUPERSCRIPT, SUBSCRIPT, NUMERATORS & DENOMINATORS<br />
PREBUILT FRACTIONS<br />
ACCENTED UPPERCASE<br />
ACCENTED LOVERCASE<br />
ACCENTS<br />
LIGATURES<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#01)<br />
UPPERCASE PUNCTUATION (S#02)<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#03)<br />
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡<br />
¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈°<br />
$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9<br />
½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞<br />
ÆŒØÁÀÂÄÃÅĀĄĂÇĆČĈĊĎĐÐÉÈÊËĒĚĖĘĔĜĠĢĞĦĤÍÎÌÏIĨĬĮĪĴĶ<br />
ĻĿĹŁĽŊÑŃŇŅNÓÒÔÖÕŌŐØŎŔŘŖŠŚȘŞŜSSŤŢŦÚÙÛÜŪŲŮŰŬŨ<br />
ŴẂẄẀŸÝŶỲŹŽŻÞIJ<br />
æœøáàâäãåāąăçćčĉċďđðéèêëēěėęĕĝġģğħĥíîìïıĩĭįīĵķ<br />
ļŀĺłľŋñńňņʼnóòôöõōőøŏŕřŗšśșşŝßťţŧúùûüūųůűŭũŵẃẅẁÿýŷỳźžżþſĸij<br />
`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ<br />
fb fh fi fj fk fl ff ffb ffh ffi ffj ffk ffl<br />
&gĝğġģkķ<br />
H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–—<br />
QRŔŖŘ
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
7<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
UPPERCASE<br />
LOVERCASE<br />
STANDARD PUNCTUATION<br />
MATH SYMBOLS<br />
CURRENCY & SYMBOLS<br />
PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL<br />
OLDSTYLE & PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE<br />
SUPERSCRIPT, SUBSCRIPT, NUMERATORS & DENOMINATORS<br />
PREBUILT FRACTIONS<br />
ACCENTED UPPERCASE<br />
ACCENTED LOVERCASE<br />
ACCENTS<br />
LIGATURES<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#01)<br />
UPPERCASE PUNCTUATION (S#02)<br />
STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#03)<br />
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡<br />
¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈°<br />
$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
0123456789 0123456789<br />
⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9<br />
½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞<br />
ÆŒØÁÀÂÄÃÅĀĄĂÇĆČĈĊĎĐÐÉÈÊËĒĚĖĘĔĜĠĢĞĦĤÍÎÌÏIĨĬĮĪĴĶ<br />
ĻĿĹŁĽŊÑŃŇŅNÓÒÔÖÕŌŐØŎŔŘŖŠŚȘŞŜSSŤŢŦÚÙÛÜŪŲŮŰŬŨ<br />
ŴẂẄẀŸÝŶỲŹŽŻÞIJ<br />
æœøáàâäãåāąăçćčĉċďđðéèêëēěėęĕĝġģğħĥíîìïıĩĭįīĵķ<br />
ļŀĺłľŋñńňņʼnóòôöõōőøŏŕřŗšśșşŝßťţŧúùûüūųůűŭũŵẃẅẁÿýŷỳźžżþſĸij<br />
`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ<br />
fb fh fi fj fk fl ff ffb ffh ffi ffj ffk ffl<br />
&gĝğġģkķ<br />
H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–—<br />
QRŔŖŘ
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
8<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of the<br />
neon city exploding on my<br />
closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jet-lag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on<br />
the toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees<br />
and more people to please. More dusty<br />
blond boys and speedos. I flick my aviators<br />
down and read the street signs.<br />
settle on the duck since<br />
it strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks her<br />
teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with a<br />
heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have<br />
no apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of<br />
the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words<br />
separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny. Only each time the punch-line<br />
falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois gras printed out in rounded<br />
serifs and the waiter laughing politely, anxiously. I<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for experimentation<br />
and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Light Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
9<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of the<br />
neon city exploding on my<br />
closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jet-lag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on<br />
the toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees<br />
and more people to please. More dusty<br />
blond boys and speedos. I flick my aviators<br />
down and read the street signs.<br />
settle on the duck since<br />
it strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks her<br />
teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have<br />
no apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny. Only each time the punch-line<br />
falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois gras printed out in rounded<br />
serifs and the waiter laughing politely, anxiously. I<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for experimentation<br />
and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Book<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
10<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom, perched<br />
on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs<br />
around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless shopping<br />
sprees and more people to please. More<br />
dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402<br />
to Copenhagen. Exhausted i<br />
push through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit card,<br />
leaving it on the bar and pick<br />
at the polaroid with Melissa´s<br />
number on the back. 8 digits,<br />
XXX and Melissa with a heart<br />
doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary words<br />
with normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot deceive eye<br />
or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for experimentation<br />
and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Book Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
11<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of the<br />
neon city exploding on my<br />
closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jet-lag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on<br />
the toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees<br />
and more people to please. More dusty<br />
blond boys and speedos. I flick my aviators<br />
down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the<br />
duck since it strikes me<br />
as funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have<br />
no apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for experimentation<br />
and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
12<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA. She<br />
grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating<br />
the i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings; O<br />
followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and speedos.<br />
I flick my aviators down and read the<br />
street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
13<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of the<br />
neon city exploding on my<br />
closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jet-lag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on the<br />
toilet, a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees and<br />
more people to please. More dusty blond<br />
boys and speedos. I flick my aviators down<br />
and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the<br />
duck since it strikes me<br />
as funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have<br />
no apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
14<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> DemiBold Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
15<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom, perched<br />
on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs<br />
around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless shopping<br />
sprees and more people to please. More<br />
dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on the<br />
back. 8 digits, XXX and Melissa<br />
with a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmno<br />
pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh<br />
ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary words<br />
with normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Bold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
16<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from<br />
the PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings; O<br />
followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Bold Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
17<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from<br />
the PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive, punctuating<br />
the i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom, perched<br />
on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs<br />
around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless shopping<br />
sprees and more people to please. More<br />
dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at the<br />
nearest bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of<br />
actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> ExtraBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
18<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the cool<br />
glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive, punctuating<br />
the i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want<br />
to be funny. Only each<br />
time the punch-line<br />
falls flat. My delivery<br />
is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> ExtraBold Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
19<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want<br />
to be funny. Only each<br />
time the punch-line<br />
falls flat. My delivery<br />
is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Heavy<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
20<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the cool<br />
glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as<br />
the combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke<br />
rings; O followed by Q followed<br />
by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down.<br />
10/12 I keep on<br />
cracking jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the<br />
fois gras printed out<br />
in rounded serifs and<br />
the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> Heavy Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
21<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the cool<br />
glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves<br />
of the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids<br />
as the combination of<br />
Xanax and jet-lag slowly<br />
deadens my limbs. “Rest”<br />
I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine<br />
purrs across his forearm. I can see<br />
Melissa through the open door to<br />
the bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down.<br />
10/12 I keep on<br />
cracking jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off.<br />
I keep glancing between<br />
the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcde<br />
fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it<br />
is intended to be read<br />
but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy, using<br />
ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script.<br />
»the philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Book<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
22<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and<br />
the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously. I<br />
settle on the duck since<br />
it strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks<br />
her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and<br />
I nervously glance up at<br />
the departures sign.<br />
Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402<br />
to Copenhagen. Exhausted<br />
i push through security<br />
– belt, shoes, watch, laptop<br />
and slump down at the<br />
nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890<br />
This is<br />
dummy text. It is<br />
intended to be read<br />
but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy, using<br />
ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot deceive eye<br />
or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Book Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
23<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of the<br />
cab creaks ominously<br />
to the rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my head<br />
on the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with<br />
a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on the<br />
toilet, a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q Followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees and<br />
more people to please. More dusty blond<br />
boys and speedos. I flick my aviators down<br />
and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m<br />
funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the punchline<br />
falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and the fois gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the duck since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She picks her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on the<br />
back. 8 digits, XXX and Melissa<br />
with a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890<br />
This is<br />
dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have no<br />
apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script. »the philosophy<br />
of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
24<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as<br />
the combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see<br />
Melissa through the open door to<br />
the bathroom, perched on the<br />
toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want<br />
to be funny. Only each<br />
time the punch-line<br />
falls flat. My delivery<br />
is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth<br />
and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstu<br />
vwxyz1234567890<br />
This is dummy text.<br />
It is intended to be read<br />
but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal<br />
letter frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play, a<br />
home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
25<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of the<br />
cab creaks ominously<br />
to the rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my head<br />
on the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jetlag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on the<br />
toilet, a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings; O<br />
followed by Q Followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees and<br />
more people to please. More dusty blond<br />
boys and speedos. I flick my aviators down<br />
and read the street signs.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on the<br />
back. 8 digits, XXX and Melissa<br />
with a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890<br />
This is<br />
dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have no<br />
apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be said<br />
to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of the<br />
typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words<br />
separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with<br />
a small heart.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m<br />
funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the punchline<br />
falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and the fois gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the duck since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She picks her teeth and nods.<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
26<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on<br />
cracking jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny. I<br />
want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and<br />
the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously. I<br />
settle on the duck since<br />
it strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks<br />
her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it<br />
is intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play, a<br />
home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
27<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on the<br />
toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q Followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless shopping<br />
sprees and more people to please. More<br />
dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the<br />
duck since it strikes me<br />
as funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890<br />
This is<br />
dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have no<br />
apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot deceive eye or<br />
brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the PA.<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Bold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
28<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see<br />
Melissa through the open door to<br />
the bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and<br />
the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth<br />
and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstu<br />
vwxyz1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of<br />
actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal<br />
letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or<br />
brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play, a<br />
home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> BoldItalic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
29<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of the<br />
cab creaks ominously<br />
to the rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my head<br />
on the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves<br />
of the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightly<br />
spaced cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his<br />
forearm. I can see Melissa through<br />
the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair of boys<br />
briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and<br />
blowing smoke rings; O followed by<br />
Q followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and s<br />
peedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890 This is dummy<br />
text. it is intended to be<br />
read but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal<br />
letter frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play,<br />
a home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> ExtraBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
30<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to<br />
the rhythm of<br />
the street. I rest<br />
my head on the<br />
cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as<br />
the combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches<br />
out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink<br />
laughing hysterically as the<br />
machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through<br />
the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair of<br />
boys briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstu<br />
vwxyz 1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it<br />
is intended to be read<br />
but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy, using<br />
ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot deceive<br />
eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play, a<br />
home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> ExtraBold Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
31<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from<br />
the PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches<br />
out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine<br />
purrs across his forearm. I can see<br />
Melissa through the open door to<br />
the bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny. I<br />
want to be funny. Only<br />
each time the punchline<br />
falls flat. My<br />
delivery is off. I keep<br />
glancing between the<br />
menu and the fois gras<br />
printed out in rounded<br />
serifs and the waiter<br />
laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth<br />
and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit card,<br />
leaving it on the bar and<br />
pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the<br />
back. 8 digits, XXX<br />
and Melissa with a heart<br />
doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyz<br />
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it<br />
is intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play,<br />
a home for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Heavy<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
32<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the cool<br />
glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves<br />
of the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids<br />
as the combination of<br />
Xanax and jet-lag slowly<br />
deadens my limbs. “Rest”<br />
I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches<br />
out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink<br />
laughing hysterically as the<br />
machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through<br />
the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair of<br />
boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke<br />
rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist<br />
handshakes. More Melissa. More<br />
pointless shopping sprees and more<br />
people to please. More dusty blond<br />
boys and speedos.<br />
I flick my aviators<br />
down and read<br />
the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on<br />
cracking jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle<br />
on the duck since it<br />
strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks<br />
her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyz ab<br />
cdefghijklmnopqrstuv<br />
wxyz 1234567890<br />
This is dummy text.<br />
it is intended to be read<br />
but have no apparent<br />
meaning. as a simulation<br />
of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words<br />
with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of<br />
it’s delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is<br />
the existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type<br />
ever be separate from meaning? Words separate from<br />
medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the<br />
typographer, but never smarter<br />
than his script. »the philosophy<br />
of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and<br />
concept store, created as a place to play,<br />
a home for experimentation and a<br />
showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> Heavy Italic<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
33<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the<br />
cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves<br />
of the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as<br />
the combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches<br />
out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink<br />
laughing hysterically as the machine<br />
purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair of<br />
boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a<br />
cigarette and blowing smoke<br />
rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down<br />
and read the street<br />
signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and<br />
the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously. I<br />
settle on the duck since<br />
it strikes me as funny<br />
somehow. She picks<br />
her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklm<br />
nopqrstuvwxyzabc<br />
defghijklmnopqrstuvwx<br />
yz 1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of<br />
actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal<br />
letter frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home<br />
for experimentation and a showcase<br />
of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Light<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
34<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of<br />
the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of the<br />
neon city exploding on my<br />
closed eyelids as the combination<br />
of Xanax and jet-lag<br />
slowly deadens my limbs.<br />
“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow drone<br />
coming from the PA. She grabs<br />
my arm and inscribes »Melissa«<br />
on it in neat, tightly-spaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the i with a<br />
small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in<br />
blue biro ink laughing hysterically as<br />
the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the open<br />
door to the bathroom, perched on<br />
the toilet, a pair of boys briefs around<br />
her ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more<br />
novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes. More<br />
Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees<br />
and more people to please. More dusty<br />
blond boys and speedos. I flick my aviators<br />
down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on the<br />
duck since it strikes me<br />
as funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door<br />
snaps me back and I nervously<br />
glance up at the departures<br />
sign. Numerals slither rapidly<br />
as I scan the board. SK402 to<br />
Copenhagen. Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt, shoes,<br />
watch, laptop and slump down<br />
at the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with a<br />
heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is intended<br />
to be read but have<br />
no apparent meaning. as a<br />
simulation of actual copy,<br />
using ordinary words with<br />
normal letter frequencies, it<br />
cannot deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of<br />
the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words<br />
separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script. »the philosophy<br />
of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Book<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
35<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of<br />
the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom, perched<br />
on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs<br />
around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy business<br />
cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless shopping<br />
sprees and more people to please. More<br />
dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my<br />
aviators down and read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at the<br />
nearest bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary words<br />
with normal letter frequencies,<br />
it cannot deceive eye<br />
or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but<br />
never smarter than his script. »the philosophy<br />
of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept store,<br />
created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Regular<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
36<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating<br />
the i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings;<br />
O followed by Q followed by Q.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and speedos.<br />
I flick my aviators down and read the<br />
street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls<br />
flat. My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of<br />
actual copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot<br />
deceive eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Light<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
37<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of<br />
the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his forearm.<br />
I can see Melissa through the<br />
open door to the bathroom, perched<br />
on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs<br />
around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and blowing<br />
smoke rings; O followed by Q<br />
followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and speedos.<br />
I flick my aviators down and read the<br />
street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at the<br />
nearest bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid with<br />
Melissa´s number on the back.<br />
8 digits, XXX and Melissa with<br />
a heart doting the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot deceive<br />
eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> Book<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
38<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace of<br />
the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA.<br />
She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating the<br />
i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes around<br />
the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’<br />
in blue biro ink laughing hysterically<br />
as the machine purrs across his<br />
forearm. I can see Melissa through<br />
the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair of boys<br />
briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly<br />
smoking a cigarette and<br />
blowing smoke rings; O followed by<br />
Q followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and speedos.<br />
I flick my aviators down and read the<br />
street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot deceive<br />
eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
39<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the street.<br />
I rest my head on<br />
the cool glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding on<br />
my closed eyelids as the<br />
combination of Xanax and<br />
jet-lag slowly deadens my<br />
limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then<br />
oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name, straining<br />
to hear above the slow<br />
drone coming from the PA. She<br />
grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced<br />
cursive, punctuating<br />
the i with a small heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles,<br />
absentmindedly smoking a cigarette<br />
and blowing smoke rings; O<br />
followed by Q followed by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down and<br />
read the street signs.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be<br />
funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off. I<br />
keep glancing between<br />
the menu and the fois<br />
gras printed out in<br />
rounded serifs and the<br />
waiter laughing politely,<br />
anxiously. I settle on<br />
the duck since it strikes<br />
me as funny somehow.<br />
She picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push through<br />
security – belt, shoes, watch,<br />
laptop and slump down at<br />
the nearest bar. I slip out my<br />
credit card, leaving it on the<br />
bar and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot deceive<br />
eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> <strong>Round</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
40<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
24/25 The warm<br />
leather embrace<br />
of the cab creaks<br />
ominously to the<br />
rhythm of the<br />
street. I rest my<br />
head on the cool<br />
glass.<br />
18/19 The harsh curves of<br />
the neon city exploding<br />
on my closed eyelids as<br />
the combination of Xanax<br />
and jet-lag slowly deadens<br />
my limbs. “Rest” I mouth.<br />
Then oblivion.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and<br />
inscribes »Melissa« on it in<br />
neat, tightly-spaced cursive,<br />
punctuating the i with a small<br />
heart.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet,<br />
a pair of boys briefs around her<br />
ankles, absentmindedly smoking<br />
a cigarette and blowing smoke<br />
rings; O followed by Q followed<br />
by O.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people to<br />
please. More dusty blond boys and<br />
speedos. I flick my aviators down.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking<br />
jokes, right?<br />
Because I’m funny.<br />
I want to be funny.<br />
Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat.<br />
My delivery is off.<br />
I keep glancing between<br />
the menu and<br />
the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs<br />
and the waiter laughing<br />
politely, anxiously.<br />
I settle on the duck<br />
since it strikes me as<br />
funny somehow. She<br />
picks her teeth and<br />
nods.<br />
8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab<br />
door snaps me back and I<br />
nervously glance up at the<br />
departures sign. Numerals<br />
slither rapidly as I scan the<br />
board. SK402 to Copenhagen.<br />
Exhausted i push<br />
through security – belt,<br />
shoes, watch, laptop and<br />
slump down at the nearest<br />
bar. I slip out my credit<br />
card, leaving it on the bar<br />
and pick at the polaroid<br />
with Melissa´s number on<br />
the back. 8 digits, XXX and<br />
Melissa with a heart doting<br />
the i.<br />
14/17 abcdefghijklmn<br />
opqrstuvwxyz abcdef<br />
ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz<br />
1234567890<br />
This is dummy text. it is<br />
intended to be read but<br />
have no apparent meaning.<br />
as a simulation of actual<br />
copy, using ordinary<br />
words with normal letter<br />
frequencies, it cannot deceive<br />
eye or brain.<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if<br />
the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate<br />
from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer,<br />
but never smarter than his script. »the<br />
philosophy of type«<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
41<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
42<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
43<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
44<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
45<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
46<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
47<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
48<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
49<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
50<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
51<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
52<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Serif</strong> DemiBold<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
53<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
54<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
55<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
56<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong> <strong>Sans</strong> <strong>Round</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
57<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
Big play<br />
Big play
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
58<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the<br />
bathroom, perched on the toilet, a<br />
pair of boys briefs around her.<br />
24/25<br />
The warm<br />
leather<br />
embrace<br />
of the cab<br />
creaks<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery<br />
be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist<br />
paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from<br />
meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And<br />
if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s<br />
delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the<br />
existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be<br />
separate from meaning? Words separate from medium?<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people.<br />
14/15 I rest my<br />
head on the<br />
cool glass.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m<br />
funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs and the waiter laughing.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep<br />
glancing between the menu and the fois gras<br />
printed out in rounded serifs and the waiter.
PLAYTYPE<br />
<strong>ID00</strong><br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark<br />
http://www.playtype.com<br />
59<br />
Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her ankles.<br />
16/17 I ask her her name,<br />
straining to hear above the<br />
slow drone coming from the<br />
PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes<br />
»Melissa« on it in neat,<br />
tightly-spaced cursive.<br />
14/15 The tattoo guns passes<br />
around the table- A kid etches out<br />
‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing<br />
hysterically as the machine purrs<br />
across his forearm. I can see Melissa<br />
through the open door to the bathroom,<br />
perched on the toilet, a pair<br />
of boys briefs around her.<br />
24/25<br />
The warm<br />
leather<br />
embrace<br />
of the cab<br />
creaks<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of<br />
the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words<br />
separate from medium?<br />
6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the<br />
words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be<br />
said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox<br />
of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning?<br />
Words separate from medium?<br />
<strong>Playtype</strong> is an online type foundry and concept<br />
store, created as a place to play, a home for<br />
experimentation and a showcase of our craft.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people.<br />
12/13 More days in daze. More scripts,<br />
more novels. More pages and clammy<br />
business cards passed of in moist handshakes.<br />
More Melissa. More pointless<br />
shopping sprees and more people.<br />
14/15 I rest my<br />
head on the<br />
cool glass.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m<br />
funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the<br />
punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing<br />
between the menu and the fois gras printed<br />
out in rounded serifs and the waiter laughing.<br />
10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because<br />
I’m funny. I want to be funny. Only each time<br />
the punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep<br />
glancing between the menu and the fois gras<br />
printed out in rounded serifs and the waiter.