Her first card is actually rather eye-catching — a $20 bill — to indicate that we get money to recommend her firm. Pretty straightforward, if you think about it. This brings up a point, though, about how US currency is actually a better bit of design than the card itself, but let’s not go there.

It does, after all, seem appropriate for a tip calculator chart to be included on the back of the card. Accountants are all about correct amounts. But let’s not bring up the abundance of tip-calculator applications on smart phones.

Sadly, her regular card is pretty sucky. Typical small business America, I suppose. Now I wonder if she’ll accept new business cards as payment for my tax return next year …

An electronics engineer whose business card is not only an actual circuit board, but it’s a USB thumb drive. Useful, yet bulky. I’m afraid this isn’t the first one of these I’ve seen, and thus, I’m not terribly impressed.

Bold, though, because this has to cost a pretty penny.

You’d think that the staff at the Staples Copy & Print Shop would have better cards! I mean, they are in the biz, are they not?

Both cards pictured are plagued with bad typography, colour inconsistency, bizarre thermography patterns, and pathetically thin card stock that feels entirely wimpy in hand. Also, two people from the same store don’t even have the same card. What’s going on here? Total fail.

My buddy Mike works at Akam. They’re your standard blah corporation with a less-than-impressive card. But that makes this remarkable is the back of the card, which boasts the company’s mission statement.

The level of corporate drivel packed on the back of this card actually make me laugh out loud. Why, oh why, does someone need to know the company’s mission statement at the same moment they exchange cards?

East of eighth is a restaurant on 23rd St., just east of 8th Ave., in New York City. Good food, bad card.

The photo doesn’t tell the entire story (in part because my camera sucks) but the entire card is printed with thermography! Ouch. Not a fan of the typography, either.

When walking on the streets of New York, I am handed a variety of promotional and advertising crap. Flyers, coupons, free samples are all common. But the other day I actually accepted the hand-to-hand transfer because I could see from afar that it was, in fact, a business card being slung my way. The card: One Free Tan.

My first reaction was positive. From the front of the card (above) it appears to be some sort of cutting-edge fashion brand. The juxtaposition of old-world plaid prints with paint splatter gives it a fresh, urban feel. I dig it.

And then I flip it over.

Jeez, the back is such a let down. This is where the card turns into the old-fashion promotional garbage. The layout and colour choices are just awful — so much so that I still haven’t actually read it.

Here are the cards for selve, a custom footwear company. I am featuring these firstly for their cheeky strapline, “Munich, London, and now Red Bank, NJ!” Um, I hope that you’re embracing the randomness of your own company, because if this is done is serious, I am surely confused. Red Bank, for all it’s merits, is not an international fashion hub.

Second, these are just a mess from a technical point of view. While it may appear to be one-colour, it’s actually done with 4-colour process. Elementary printing knowledge will demonstrate that you can’t effectively knock out text from a field of a process colour. It will look blurry. And it’s made worse when you have that ultralight text. So if you’re going to design a card that is, essentially, a single colour, buck up and get the spot, or just use Black.

There’s also a crappy lo-res photograph, but that doesn’t come across well in my own crappy lo-res photo.

*sigh*

Junior is a website “celebrating life at the bottom” [of the advertising profession]. The card is playful, but loses points for being out of register on the front. I guess they’re still learning the ropes of print production…

Please tell me I am not the only one who feels a burning, infernal hatred for those blasted stick-of-gum half-cards that are all the rage the days. Moo.com has made them popular among the internet-savvy new media set, much to my chagrin.

The backs are customisable, which is nice. But you don’t need a fancy slim card for that.

The arguments for them are always rather superficial: “they’re cute” or “they’re smaller, and more convenient” seem to escape the lips rather quickly. But in my opinion, their size is a disadvantage, making them easier to lose. In addition, they fall to the bottom of wallet slots and business card holders, forcing me to retrieve them later at a much less convenient time. And strangely, they’re not half a card, but rather some odd fraction that hasn’t yet made sense to me.

In conclusion, if you hand me one of these, I will tell you how much I hate them. We can still be friends, though.

A navy blue felt card with gold foil stamping could be appropriate for some sorts of businesses, but I don’t think anything so lusty is warranted for a restaurant. Bad type and layout make it unwarranted for pretty much anything, though.

Close-up of the craziness.

This mind-bending experience of a card appears to be some kind of metallic ink varnish laid on in a haphazard pattern to resemble that brushed metal finish that some metalworkers like to do. I really don’t know how to describe it.

Naturally, it’s wildly inappropriate for most purposes. In both cases here, the type is difficult to read and this fancy finish doesn’t add to or highlight the offering of the business. Further points reduced for the use of thermography and christmas-card lettering on the Garden City Roofing card.

Jordan T. Farkas is, apparently, an Art Director.

Don’t tell anyone, but he’s also Batman.

Props to BTR Recovery Specialists for being bold enough to rock a card with not one, not two, but three straplines! Obviously, the cheeky phrase “Now you see it, now you don’t” is a reference to the stealthiness of their repossessing skills, and it’s good to know that they recover anything, as indicated by the second line below the company name. But I’m not quite sure “We Deliver” fits in. Perhaps that’s just some vestigial copy, caused by the fusion of so many pieces of clip art and typesetting.

Then again, I don’t ask for design skills out of a repo company.

The card for Hello World Communications isn’t great. Lots of info, a clashing colour scheme, and the dented Golden Spiral which seems a bit out of left field. But the real WTF moment comes when we flip the card and see the juxtaposition of the Tensometer.

Novelties aside, why would a film and video production company need a stress test on the back of their card? So random. I’m sorry, but “you kept it, didn’t you” isn’t exactly a breakthrough strategy. I’m open to creativity for card backs — perhaps this would have worked if they moved me in the direction of “Stress-Free Communications” or “Production without the Tension.” Opportunity lost, it seems.