PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Oh. Oh.

Where to begin?

I just told a co-worker I'm waiting for the storm sirens to go off. Could this day get any crazier? Could it? All that's missing is a dude in a chicken suit! Breakdancing!

(ok, in the interest of not over-sharing, and b/c Blogger doesn't allow password posts, I'm editing this out. If you missed it & would like the meat, email me or leave me a comment w/ your email.)

Anyway, I found myself at one point this afternoon longing for a storm cellar, just like Auntie Em ran into when the winds began to whip across the Kansas plains, and the chickens ran in every direction. Boneless chickens can't run, and men in chicken suits are prime targets for getting hit by tornadoes and golf carts. (I like to imagine running over my enemies with a golf cart, it's just so much more personal. Plus I don't want to jack up the suspension on the Murano any more than my off-roading already does.) I'll take those bone-in chickens any day, just don't call me stupid in business, because I will RUIN YOU!