Here's the story:
A few months ago I bought an item. Since my brother makes up one-fifth of my regular readership, I'll refrain from going into details about this item (though I was going to write a post about my friends "Pammie" "Tammie" and "Cammie" and my introduction to them at different ages...) but I will say that it's awesome. Not for the faint of heart, but awesome (and you're welcome, Julie, for changing my phrasing there). There's just one thing I HATE about this item--it came with the most embarrassing little bag to carry it around in.
So, in the middle of a recent Buffy/Angel binge, I sat down with some newfangled supplies I had just bought at WalMart at midnight and tried to remember anything from my eighth grade sewing class that didn't have to do with that one time that little hussy Linda grabbed me by my bangs and slapped me. (Lesson learned--bangs are bad.) Something must have stuck, because I think it turned out amazing.
2 comments:
Hahahahahahahahaha. Way to be all domestic and crafty. :)
hahahaaha,I love it. PS: I want one for Harold. What?
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