Death Match - MAMMOTH

Prehysteria. Mammothry... Werewolves.

Prehistoric weremammoth has a sad.

All her friends are extinct. The books she's been reading are ancient, and she hasn't had anyone to sharpen her claws wit  on for ages.

Now she just watches youtube videos and gets into arguments with paleo-dieters on the Internet.

Weremammoth contemplates next evolutionary step.

Robotaday and Yermits have more mammoths. sarahapple has been acting out various plagues throughout history, and will be joining us later is back among the living.

DEATH MATCH - :Made up inside my head:

Working for the government is just a long slog through paperwork. Paperwork to do more paperwork. Waiting for the faxes of that paperwork to attach to other paperwork to submit with additional paperwork. There is paperwork to save other people from doing paperwork that no longer needs to be done, and paperwork to defend yourself when they panic and cc all your bosses because they don't know how to stop doing the paperwork you're trying to spare them.

 So yesterday I started devising a resignation speech in my head. It was in all-caps, and involved stapling things to people. I said as much to sarah, and she replied, "Do the resignation with a top hat and a cane."

This is excellent advice. And coincidentally, the Internet was in need of more pictures of cats in hats.

So here I present a DRAMATIC RE-ENACTMENT OF RESIGNATION WHICH HAS NOT YET OCCURRED.

Scene 1: soliloquy - "fucks I do not give." 

Scene - wait, oh no. Actor is drunk.

REENACTMENT CONTINUES WITH NEW ACTOR

Good day sir. I SAID GOOD DAY.

Much better. It really wasn't a complicated speech.

And all resignations are better when you end them with something random and confusing. ROBOT IN A TOP HAT.

CCDM - EXPIRED MILK

She was too old for this shit.

Babies are for people young enough to be delighted by hats shaped like produce and diapers with jeans pockets printed on them. She was tired, her stitches were showing, and she just wanted a glass of red and 2 minutes in the toilet without being screamed at.

But that 2 minutes was 20 seconds, and that glass was a bottle.

Thank goodness for the pump-and-dump.

all the fails

Things are derailing, as they do when you get pulled along by someone because you don't want to hurt them by yanking your hand away and staying on safe ground. I once found myself trapped for a week at vacation bible camp because my high school boyfriend snowballed me into signing up, even though the roster of other campers looked suspicious. I suppose the good thing that can be said about this type of gullibility is that it almost always results in an adventure. The party you shouldn't have been at, the nudity that should have been avoided, the vehicle you shouldn't have tried to operate, the masseur you shouldn't have trusted, the drink concoction you were volunteered to taste test - adventure! Adventures are usually no fun when they're happening, though.

So I have done what I did at vacation bible camp; called my mom and cried to come home. I've also sent a whole bunch of flaily, hysterical emails to sarahapple, who mustered the forces and cried DEATH MATCH!

So next Friday TUESDAY (because I still can't count), we will be posting a new death match challenge. The theme: SPOILED EXPIRED MILK. Here's hoping it doesn't end up in a pile of torn scraps like all my other recent projects. I've already broken my sewing machine and taken to stitching the whole thing by hand. Can do this.

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - kid designed

The challenge: let your kid design something. Then make it for them.

Gavin's first idea was "army of kittens". On a quilt. No, on a t-shirt. No, a pillow. And not kittens, instead we should do "Death of cats," to go with the Death of rats in the Hogfather. With "MEOW", in ALL CAPS. Because that is how Death talks. MEOW. 

So that is what I made.

I finally used my freemotion quilting foot, which I got for Christmas three years ago. It was a first attempt and I completely suck at it, but hot damn is it fun to use. Like driving a machine gun.

The pillow was a hit. For about 20 minutes, they rolled around on the floor, dragged out one of my quilts, and pretended to put themselves to bed - until someone got an elbow to the face and someone pulled out a foam sword and in the resulting brawl I threatened to hang them both by the ceiling fan and beat them with a stick.

The key to successful parenting: follow-through.

Or video games. Whatever, I made a pillow.

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - you deserve a crown, regardless

The challenge: crowns!

I made a miniature werewolf crown out of card stock, and the cat ate it. But that was ok! Because we got an extra week to work on it!

That extra week contained Valentine's Day. And a police report at work. So... I forgot.

Thursday is a late day at work, so I threw the kids out of the car at school and bellied up to the love-day loot.

Checked my email and - OH GOD YERMITS HAS FABRIC STIFFENER. I AM SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING A CROWN.

And...

*trumpet solo*

I have my crown, REGARDLESS of time management skills

POSE TIME

Then the crown went to work with me. Whoever wears the crown gets to brandish phones and fists at the rest of the staff. Because we deserve it.

See proper crowns from Yermits, Robot a Day, and Sarah Apple over at

  Craft Corner DEATH MATCH dot com!

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - repetition repetition repetition

Repetition is my bread and butter. Libraries are cathedrals of repetition. Our volume of repetition is such that we have masses of signage taped to every surface and hanging from the ceiling on twine, so we can just point and gesture with our eyebrows after our voice boxes have burnt out.

We project warmth and availability with our grace and charm. 

Except when we don't, because a hobo has just rested his balls on our desk.

Most-asked question: Where is the bathroom?
Answer: Down the hall. That hall right there. There is only one hall, go down it right over there. THERE you go, good luck.

Second most frequent question: I don't have my library card.
Answer: that is not a question. Also: no.

Third most frequent question: Can I plug this in? 
Answer: Sure, if you are using it. You just can't recharge things.
Question: but I don't want to use it, I just want to charge it.
Answer: What did I just say?

The books. The books never end. You check them out, beep, and check them in, beep. Which is kind of relaxing, and you can hum little songs about Pablo Neruda's vagina poetry and Paul Theroux's cannibalism. Beep. Angel-mermaid erotica. Beep. Quilting vampire slayers. Beep. Spacecraft zombie-virus outbreaks. Beep. Immortal-albino-detective murder mystery. Beep.*

"Can I charge my car battery... in the bathroom?"

Repetition is fun. You can hone your diplomatic wit when people ask what you thought of The Hangover 2, and devise different ways to gently warn people that you have wasp spray behind the desk, and know which creeps are sneaking into the bathroom to steal the used sanitary napkins so you can set traps for them. Repetition makes my day worth tarting up for.

See what repetition is repeating itself for Yermits, Robotaday, and Sarah Apple over at our NEW SUPER FANCY ACTUAL WEBSITE - Craft Corner Death Match dot com!


*All of these are real books. GET TO A LIBRARY. Just don't eat soup off the dictionary or pee in the potted plants or try to check out with your Supercuts punch card.**

**Also all real things. GET TO A LIBRARY AND SEE WEIRD THINGS.

Horrible fabric DEATH MATCH

Blame Robotaday for this, she was the one who found the rainbow fur - which has been floating through thrift stores since they shaved Jeff Goldblum in 1988.

Now, it so happens that there is an entire literary genre devoted to paranormal romance. Red-covered paperbacks filled with busty, wanton vampires getting it on with broody hair-tossing werewolves, producing little were-vampire abominations who grow up to heave their bosoms into the sequels. It is also true that a disproportionate amount of attention goes to the paranormal, while the cryptozoological continues to be shockingly underrepresented. I am still designing concept sketches for "Naked Came the Chupacabra". 

Cryptozoology can be sexy. It isn't all goat-sucking and yeti poo. Unicorns are the indisputable champions of grace and allure. So what would happen if one were to be accosted by a wolfman? 

Probably something very exactly like this: 

"Ohh, an ugly mongoose!" said the infink.

His name is - oh, let's say... Ripper McFluffernuts. And he is on the hunt. 

For luuurve.

Hello, pretty laydee.

But we have only just met! Well, if you -

OHGODMYEYES!

I... I love you.

Head over to Craft Corner DEATH MATCH to see what robotaday, yermits, and sarahapple did with their Goldblum pelts.

The one I love - DEATH MATCH

I almost conceded entirely. The challenge was "This is dedicated to the one I love," which, as it turns out, is kind of a personal thing. I couldn't think of anything funny. What would I dedicate, if I could? Words, songs.

So I made miniature letters. Which I don't feel like sharing in their entirety, completely defeating the point of the thing. Fail.

But they are cuuute!

I tend to send tokens in letters.

Black and white and red all over DEATH MATCH

In which I yell, "Hey! Can you grab me one of those squirrels from up on the shelf next to the Virgin Mary?"

The theme was "black and white and red all over", and I knitted a tiny sweatervest for Werehodgman. Because his books are black and white. And I read them all over. 

Here he demonstrates an evil spleen:

 "Four forgotten cocktails - The Old Spotty, CA. 1890's: gin, orange juice, and dalmation blood. You used to be able to get this at the Knickerbocker Club in New York City. Then the dog lovers started to get weepy, and another great New York tradition was killed. JUST LIKE THE HUNDRED AND ONE DALMATION PUPPIES REQUIRED TO MAKE THIS DRINK."

Hmm, I wonder if the firehouse has a dalmation? 

For more black, white, and redness, trot over to Craft Corner DEATH MATCH and see what sarahapple, yermits, and robotaday are up to.

Dark and slashy murderous mayhem

Theme: dark and slashy. Or squirrel attack. Or murderous mayhem. We got confused.

My problem in these challenges is that I don't have a style. I leap from stuffed animal to sculpey armatures to pillow creatures. It would be a lot easier if I had a signature critter, which I could rig up according to theme like SENSIBLE PEOPLE. Will work on that.

In the meantime, I decided on a freezer paper (ie 'cheater's silkscreen') project, then discovered that all my exacto knives were broken, having been used as screwdrivers. Decided on something else, dropped down on the couch to draw plans, and splashed into cat pee. Stripped the cover and cushions, put them in the washer, and made an axe to skin the cats with.







My mom was unimpressed, and said, "I don't understand why you're doing these things." Well at least I haven't taken up recreational vagazzling, or collecting miniature animals made out of fruit.

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - historical facial hair

[vaguely historical] Facial Hair:

Sometimes a bear just wants a pint. He finds his falsie, so as to look natural and not draw attention.



BEER. beerbeerbeer.



He has several alternate get-ups, so the bartender doesn't catch on.





Those dang limbs just come right off, don't they? Oh well.



See what the others are up to at CRAFT CORNER DEATH MATCH!