Of Stitch Markers and More

November 10, 2005 at 6:00 pm (Daily Dookie, Other Bloggers, Soaping and Knitting)

Good evening, Blog Readers!

Yes, for once I feel like writing something. It might not be great–hell, I can tell you right now it will suck major ass–but it's original writing. From me. And if it works I might let YPF out of her Folger's Can and let her bust a move on those old Ask YPF questions.

So, I was sitting here, minding my own business, and Honey walks into the computer room with an envelope, with a Georgia return address. I'll spare you the "Huh? Georgia? Who the frell is that? How the fuck should I know what you did Serra?" ad nauseaum, and just state for the record that my stitch markers came in from Evil Science Chick. She has a pic posted; so do I. My set's the 5-piece job.

I have to say the pics just don't do these justice. Instead of dreaming of them bejeweling the balaclava I'm making for Honey (I'm making the second one, minus the dickey), I had visions of putting French wires on these puppies and wearing them out next time I'm let out of my cage here in New Hudson. They're that fucking good, folks. I've been to art fairs where crappier (by a LONG shot) beadwork was seriously tagged at $20 a pair for earrings similar to these pretty things, the only difference being that ESC's work doesn't look like a retarded child did it.

As I sat upstairs a little while ago, casting on all those itty bitty stitches for the balaclava (for the record, knitting with size 3 circular needles that were FOLDED instead of curled up sucks syphillitic, leprotic goat dongs) I was mulling over the other things that someone with the kind of talent Bunsen put out here and sent me could make…things unusual and different and if I had the talent I would be Photoshopping the piss out of…

Idea #1–Pretty Little Ta-Ta Tassels
Imagine your favorite lap dancer (substitute appropriate person here–I wouldn't want you to stray, even in your perverse fantasies), topless, one of these little puppies…

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…hanging from each of his/her/their delicately pierced nipples. They dangle, they swing, they catch the light, much as your favorite lap dancer's skin does. They entrance you, distracting you, putting off the moment when for one reason or another you must end the joy displayed before you. Hopefully your Happy Ending will come when you want it, not when some pain in your real-life ass presents itself.

Not a bad idea, I don't think.

Idea #2–Flower of Love Decoration
Imagine being about to tantalize your favorite lover…gentle hands urging a parting as you seek his/her/their center…earplugs firmly in place (since your object is to make s/him scream)…and finding…

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

…something that would just make this fantasy fall the fuck (no pun intended) apart for me.

You see, I'm not nuts about metal scraping on my teeth. It's a little like nails on a chalkboard for me, but not as much so as tongue depressors are. I'd also be a tad worried about pulling too hard, or tugging something out of skin not meant to part for it. So, perhaps this isn't the greatest idea, but maybe something smaller with fewer parts to catch on things…

Shall we move on? All right.

Idea #3–Pretty Little Kitty Bauble
I'm not referring to kitties as Brighton uses the term (see above–I covered that)–I mean soft, furry things that become very happy when you stroke them properly.

Yeah, I know, what's the difference? Let me rephrase…

I mean the four-footed founders of fucking indifferent behavior. Like the one over there in the sidebar, who Honey claims is the bane of his existence. Wouldn't something like that just be perfect as a charm to hang from a leather and rhinestone collar? It'd be a little color in amongst the brilliance and glitz.

I can just picture Desi with a collar, equipped with PLKB. She'd be TOO pissed. Honey would have a happy moment in his day, watching her be miserable, but then I'd have to wreck it for him by bitching at him for taking such delight in a dumb aminal's misery. He'd point out that it doesn't bother me to see him miserable, but then I'd indicate that he asked for it the moment he put my engagement ring on my hand…I'd win, of course, but by then Desi would either be braiding her own hanging rope or attempting to make it look like I committed hara-kiri. There's just not enough fun to be had for me to try this out, so if any of you choose to, send video to areyoufuckinnuts@gmail.com

Well, I think I've gotten the ball rolling here. If any of you are talented with Photoshop, email me and show me what you cooked up–I'll post anything sent to me (btw that isn't my real address above; check my profile for the real deal).

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