••• Friday, July 21, 2006

Humble Pie 

Thanks for the sweet comments on my Manpie post. Truthfully, I was/am kind of taken aback by the impact, seeing as how the piece was pretty much the result of taking my brain for a ride on the porcelain bus.

A special thanks to Debra for submitting the post to Blogher's Sex and Relationships page.

Speaking of Blogher this knit blogger wants to know your thoughts on knit blogging, to bring to a real time blog-world-meets-people-world discussion.

And speaking of some more Blogher, it was there I found links to some cool, new (to me) blogs, such as This and That. What is it about those California bloggers?

Anyway, reading these new blogs has provided me both inspiration and validation for my new found (or maybe re-found) Blowing-Brain- Chunks approach to blog posting. Of course, I would never compare my chunks to theirs. Clearly, their skills in both aim and arrangement are keenly developed.

Anyway, with the new visitors and a tiny moment in the spotlight, I am suddenly feeling, as The Cakers says when the focus of unexpected attention, shy.

Cakers a la Mode
Speaking of pie and chunks of love and stuff, here's The Cakers modeling The Crumpets.

She loves this piece so much that she asked me to make her another one, only longer. For a dress. Damn if that didn't warm the cockles of my heart.

My cockles got so warm, that the still fresh and painful memories of knitting inches and inches of 360 stitches, around and around and around, slowly melted away. They were soon replaced by a waking nightmare of 47,000 additional inches in length, of 360 stitches, around and around and around...and I just said no.

Sure she's cute and shit, but the girl needs a serious grip.

What the Shell?
I'm just a few inches shy of a completed backside on the Ribby Shell. The color pools remind me of some candy from back in the day. Even though I can't recall the candy, this vaguest of recollection is making my teeth hurt.

We're back north for the weekend and tomorrow my (almost) entire family is coming up for a gigantic picnic and sleepover. I was hoping, at this point in the post, to offer some humorous, snarky prognostications on the weekend outcome, but I suddenly find myself overcome with fear.

Of flushing.
17 people flushing.
All day.
All night.
And all day again.
Into three tiny, delicate tubes of poo.
It's simple.
We're all gonna die.

I'll P.U. on the other side.

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