I would like to reserve a booth at the upcoming Franckoworld convention. We sell high quality consumer goods of the snuggie/oxiclean variety. Our salesmen are courteous but forceful. Can you provide the square footage available at the venue as well as the names of any reputable taxidermists in the immediate area?
We’ve got a park behind our place. I’ll reserve the picnic table closest to the portapotty for you and your men.
This could be a great opportunity for you. The attendees will have an urgent need to stay warm while keeping their hands free. I will require at least one Billy Mays look-a-like, and if there’s any way you could get Vince Offer to join your team, it would be much appreciated.
There’s a taxidermist next door to the place where I bought my bike on Main Street in Algonquin. I’m frightened that I know/remember that.
If I ever met you, I would immediately attack you with hugs. Would you be totally creeped out? Two part-How are your hugging skills?
I’m trying to build up my business. Could you set out one long table or two card tables in your yard this spring? I think the people sleeping and filming in your yard would appreciate some chow from Wok ‘n Roll Catering.
That depends. How’s your Crab Rangoon?
If you answered “delicious” then welcome to Franckoworld.
I saw a pattern from Subversive Cross Stitch http://www.subversivecrossstitch.com/ that I wanted to make for a Christmas gift in 2007. I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to do it. I looked for finished versions on etsy but couldn’t find any, so I bought a kit. I haven’t stopped since. Seriously. My fingers really hurt. *sob*
Why do you cross stitch (as opposed to knitting, scrapbooking or something else?)
I’ve tried knitting once and I could never get the hang of it. I’m awful with paper, I can’t even wrap a present properly, so scrapbooking is out. I can’t draw or artfully arrange things, I just don’t have the eye for it. This is the first medium I’ve ever been able to use to express myself in an artistic way. There may be arguments as to whether or not that is a good thing. :)
It doesn’t matter how much there is. We always need more.
I’m thinking about visiting friends in Chicago this spring. I was also thinking about finding out where you live, and hanging out in your yard/stoop/whatever and just poorly stalking you until you realized who I am. I imagine that this would be HILARIOUS. But I also realize that things that are funny in my head, can be quite upsetting to other people. So, Creepy or Funny?
Not at all creepy, pretty funny, mostly awesome. Chances are I would do the same to you.
Have any unusual pet peeves?
Commercials make me grumpy, especially the ones that insult the intelligence of the viewer. It’s not unusual for me to sport angry jazz hands at a Miracle Whip commercial. “Oh, you WON’T tone it down, huh?!?!? Whatever shall we DO?”
Is this for here or to go?
Why, I enjoy your company so much, I think I’ll have to make it for here.
Do you find the phrase “loose slots” as funny as I do?
I feel a little uncomfortable answering this if you don’t already know, since I feel like this sort of thing is best left to a parent to answer… I’ll give you the answer my sister-in-law gave my niece.
When Mommies and Daddies get married, after the ceremony the priest has three babies for them to choose from. The Mommies and Daddies choose the one they know is theirs, and that is where you came from, sweetie.
Of course, being a sensitive child, my niece always wondered after the fate of the children left behind - not to mention the children that my husband and I must have ruthlessly abandoned since we have no children. We had to convince her that our choices were cats instead.
I realize with a quiet horror that I am pretty sad today. I swirl it around like the last bit of cocoa in a mug, hoping that the separated constituents will come back together to become something I like. I remember all the times it’s been enough to say, “you know what? Fuck this. I am going to put on my favorite dress and be happy today.” I’m unbelievably fortunate that that method works for me as often as it does, but not today. Today it took me two hours to assemble my sorry brain enough to make some lunch. I walked from the kitchen table to my bedroom mirror about a dozen times, each time I still looked disheveled, distracted, and a little alien. There’s something else in my brain besides brain, in the places that used to know how to put one foot in front of the other, right now there’s only radio static and slowly swirling wisps of things I used to be able to focus on. I need to write so many emails. I need to apply for so many jobs. I need to call my mom, or anyone at all, for that matter. I need to go grocery shopping, or leave the house at all, for that matter. Okay. Starting. Now. Go take a shower. Take off your sweatshirt. Take off your slippers. What was I doing again?
It’s got to be sick and wrong that I’m taking comfort in the fact that I’m not the only one who is having days like this more and more often lately, but I am. So I’ll offer a simultaneous thanks & apology, Effie. :)