Posted by celiapleete in crafts, poppets | Comments
Bee Mine.
Priscilla and little Madison entered themselves in the Rocky Hills Mall Moms N’ Girls pageant, and won third place that year (to a standing ovation) for their punny homemade puff-paint shirts. The other two contestants clapped with forced pride.
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Playing House.
Suddenly Tabitha was overcome with a swarm of jealousy over the attention her boyfriend started paying to Miss Fancy Nancy’s shapely gams.
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Southern Helle.
“I can be restored to the Union, but by god, I won’t be reconstructed into it as a toilet paper holder.”
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Sad Lot.
The situation turned into the worst mass suicide of yarn dolls in the history of 346 W. Maple Street. The note read, in the scrawl of a child, in green crayon:
We did this to protest our unfortunate lot as wimsikal(sic) dekorations(sic) for a goddamn trash can. We hope your(sic) happy, now you’ll have to use this very vessul(sic) to despose(sic) of the greatest yarn dolls you ever crafted. Goodbye, crule(sic) world!
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Afghan You Spare A Dime?
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, thought Madeline over and over, as she promenaded around, pretending the afghan was a beautiful tulle veil and she was getting married in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she weren’t completely whacked out on codeine and in the middle of a Contemporary Crafts board meeting.
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Gone With The Wind.
What you don’t see in this festive “spirit of the antebellum years” scene are the hundreds of needlepoint slave pillows picking the cotton to stuff inside themselves.
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