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.
cogknition
