CogKnition

1000 Yards of Pale Pink Plastic

September 19th, 2006 | 3 Comments

My grandmother discovered I was a knitter at our family reunion two summers ago. She got all excited, exactly as you would expect a grandmother to do. She promised me she would send me her stash. I got all excited, exactly as you would expect a knitter to do.

And sure enough, a package arrived in the mail shortly after. It did not contain fifty balls of talking, homosexual sock yarn. Or a cigarette-smoking sheep. What arrived was silent, but not in a good way. It was in the delivering-a-menacing-death-glare, very very bad way.

It looks innocent, but it’s not.

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