I Really Meant It
Yes, tentacles. Grabby, twisty, vaguely menacing tentacles. I strongly recommend you don’t knit your own. They’re maddeningly addictive. You’ll need at least three, likely more (I’m hoping I’ll be able to call it quits at five, but I’m by no means certain). You’ll find yourself peering at your leftover bits of yarn going hmm, are you a sea-monster shade?
So far they’ve been shown to entertain me (not that challenging really), The Boy, the kittens, various other knit-susceptible friends, and a marauding three year old who wandered by. I’ve chosen to keep mine in the little charging caddy I have on my desk (seemed fitting), but they’ve also found themselves posed with coffee cups, absinthe bottles, various houseplants, and wee tiny lego men. The possibilities for wasting alarming amounts of time are more or less endless. Flee while you still can.
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