We don't bite…unless you're into that sort of thing

(The string in) My mind is unraveling

The other day, I was with the girlfriend at KFC for the second time in two weeks (because nothing says romance like “if you’re going to get fat off all this fast food then so am I!”) and something out of the ordinary happened. It was…you know what, I’ll just show you…

Is that....really?

Do you see it? In case you don’t.

That’s right. She whips out two yarns of string and some knitting needles and proceeds to start knitting. There’s a list of things I compiled a long time ago that you should go through when something this bizarre happens.

Question 1:  Think if you’ve taken any drugs.

Answer:  No, I’m clean


Question 2: Have you lost your mind

Answer: No, other people are staring at the “knitting girl” and some kids raised past the age of homescience think they are witnessing witchcraft. That granny who just passed by just gave a nod of approval.


Question 3: Have you somehow been shifted into a different reality.

Answer:…good question.


As if this isn’t “twilight zone” enough, she looks over her scarf-in-the-making, the needles still rapidly clicking together and calmly asks

“So when are you taking me to the shooting range?”

Me: The shooting range?

Her: Yeah…the SHOOOTING RANGE! The place with the guns where you shoot at things, don’t be slow.

Me: Real guns?

Her: *look of indignation* Of course with real guns. What else would I be talking about?


I knit holsters for my guns

Why am I telling you this? Three reasons.

  1. She was knitting at KFC! (You can take the last two words out and still maintain shock value)
  2. When my life is turned into a sitcom, I want evidence that it really is about me so I can claim the rights to it and get paid.
  3. If I happen to die and the news report says “he died from multiple bullet wounds and what would appear to be injuries caused by knitting needles.” Then you’ll know who did it.

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