Meh, latch-hook's ok as long as you do your own thing with it. (For several years I either got that, bath soap or bibles from a couple of relatives. Believe me, after a while I really started looking forward to the latch-hook.) I never followed the patterns and started making my own. One of which I made and ended up burying before my dad had me committed or something.
But my whole point in commenting was to really say that I could never imagine you as a scrap-booking soccer mom. On the other hand I can imagine you kicking a scrap-booking soccer mom's ass. Maybe not one of those deb-cheerleader mom's though. Those are some vicious...people right there.
Cujo ripping off...well, it was supposed to be an arm. I won't mention who's arm but it was supposed to be an arm.
It just really didn't look like an arm.
Did I mention I was like 10?
I also did one that was based off of the tell-tale heart but since I didn't know what an actual heart looked like at the time I managed to keep that. (I got into the anatomy books about six months later and ended up yelling out dammit. And got my mouth washed out and my butt blistered. I was possibly a very disturbing child.)
You sound normal to me. I've loved A&P and human medicine since I was old enough to drool over the anatomy transparencies in the World Book.
I made my own Red Death costume for Halloween when I was 8. A big chunk of fake skin plopped into my best friend's little brother's candy bag, and Mom made me take all the makeup off when he screamed. I still has a sad.
I still remember when I thought it would be funny to take an old copy drawing I did of a teddy bear from a friend's coloring book, and have the bear urinating. I was probably around eight or nine. The friend was not amused, for some reason. Mom came in, later, and I was all "haha lookit"...and got the biggest pearl-clutching "Don't be ugly!" lecture of my life.
So I read stories like this and damnit I think I'm owed an apology here.
But my whole point in commenting was to really say that I could never imagine you as a scrap-booking soccer mom. On the other hand I can imagine you kicking a scrap-booking soccer mom's ass. Maybe not one of those deb-cheerleader mom's though. Those are some vicious...people right there.
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I am now immensely curious.
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It just really didn't look like an arm.
Did I mention I was like 10?
I also did one that was based off of the tell-tale heart but since I didn't know what an actual heart looked like at the time I managed to keep that. (I got into the anatomy books about six months later and ended up yelling out dammit. And got my mouth washed out and my butt blistered. I was possibly a very disturbing child.)
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I made my own Red Death costume for Halloween when I was 8. A big chunk of fake skin plopped into my best friend's little brother's candy bag, and Mom made me take all the makeup off when he screamed. I still has a sad.
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Red Death. SWEEEET. That reminds me of the mask blanks I have in the closet . . . I could do a Cat of the Red Death.
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So I read stories like this and damnit I think I'm owed an apology here.
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