Monday, May 10, 2010

stoopid knits cables

Hi, it's me again. I hope you’re all enjoying the smutty crap Brittany shoots out her word-hole as much as I am. I never knew she could be such a judgmental jerk. How fun.

So, knitting. Again. I know, and I’m sorry. But you guys should really take it up so I can talk about it without feeling like a total asshole. Seriously, it does wonders for stress and Christmas presents.

Today’s installment is cables. You know, like those ugly sweaters the yuppies wear with asgots at the country club? Or something like that, anyway.

I was putting off cables as long as I could out of cowardice. They scared me. They looked so complicated, and I didn’t really understand how a third needle could possibly make the act of knitting any simpler. I mean, I have two hands and two needles. Mathematically, that works out pretty well. But introduce a third, weird little curvy one into the mix and what am I supposed to do? So I had a pep talk with myself and decided it was about time I grew some balls. Big-ass knitting balls.

Turns out, it’s not so bad once you get the hang of it...

This cloche hat was my first attempt, hence the subtleness of the cable. I wanted to be able to abort mission and try something else if the cable didn’t work. The hat is knitted straight in a ribbed stitch, seamed up and gathered on top in the round to finish. The cable accent covers up the seam. This is baby alpaca, which I have decided I want to be touching my body at all times. It feels so effing good. It is, after all, the Andean trekker. …if you will.

Another slouch. ‘Cept this one has a thicker cabled band that looks like a wave. The buttons on this one are seashell. The color of the yarn is greener than it turned out in pictures; it’s spozda be turquoisey-blue.

This has a braided cable band, which is just a scosh more difficult than the normal rope cable. There are two different cabling directions to keep track of, working together in the same pattern to make it look like a braid. This slouch is similar to the rest, but the hat part has a woven stitch which makes for a stiffer drape so it's not as hang-ey. The yarn here is a wool-acrylic blend with bits of colored tweed.

After finally figuring out the whole cabling thing, I wanted to make a cloche hat that had a couple different kinds of cables. This one has a braided cable down the center with two tight rope cables on either side. This is knitted straight, seamed up then finished on the round like the blue cloche, but I allowed a bit of overlap and sewed little white buttons all the way up. This one is 100% wool and looks like it would be kinda itchy, but totally isn’t.

So I think I've finally mastered the elusive cable. Next I want to try a basic ribbed band with the hat part in a cable pattern. We'll see how that works out. And no, I'm still not done with hats. But as soon as I am, you'll be the second or third to know.

Katie Holmes sounds like a cat being shoved ass first through a meat grinder

I was looking everywhere for last week's hilarious video of Katie Holmes' live rendition of "Whatever Lola wants" but it has been removed. Boo! Oh my god you guys. Seriouslies. It was so gross. She was clunking around the stage in an attempt to be sexy, but instead just looked like she was squatting to take a duke in the woods. The closest I could find was this brief clip:

Even better was her co-star in this little disaster, Tom Cruise pretending to have blue balls. Tom, we all know that a woman's hoo hoo disgusts and terrifies you.

In my youtube wanderings I found this. THIS! Just look what Katie did to Joan Jett. I am assuming this is from Dawson's Creek. A show that on the record, I never watched. Off the record, I may have caught a few morning re-runs on TNT while nursing a hangover. Shut up. Josh Jackson is hot okay?

I think K-Stew and Joan Jett should take turns knifing her.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Remember when The Simpsons were funny and not disturbing?

The Simpsons Ke$ha (Tik Tok) Opening Skit May 2nd 2010

Although I kinda like Bart as Diddy (is that a currently accurate moniker for him? Diddy?) and Martin getting a pedi. But still. This just put me in a bad mood.

In other news, I am sleeping again.

I don't know if you knew this about me, but I stopped sleeping for a while. 16 days to be exact. I went to the doctor hoping for some xanax and left with a prescription for ambien. I know! What a dick!

I am terrified of ambien. There are many horror stories out there- mostly from my own family members. One time, my mom awoke in the middle of the night to find my dad in an ambien-stupor, riffling through the kitchen cupboards and unable to answer her queries as to what the fuck he was doing. Or our very own fellow butterface, Brooke. Took an ambien on a flight to Paris, immediately puked on herself, passed out, then couldn't sleep through an entire Parisian vacay because of this evil drug's "non-habit forming" side effects. Not cool, man.

I have yet to take the ambien- and should I ever have to, I have instructed my husband to hide my car keys and lock up the refrigerator. I am slowly recovering from insomnia with help from overdoses of melatonin, calms forte, mellow moments tea, and allergy medication. I have had and entire SEVEN NIGHTS IN A ROW of sleep. At least 5 hours worth a night, and HOO boy! Do I feel like a million bucks? Hell bells! Do I EVER!
Plus restaurant week just ended, but that is a whole other post for me to go wah all over.

Not much in smutty going on. Brett Michaels is still hanging in there, and Sandra and the gross-sweaty-bald-racist-tattooed-piece-of-shit, plus secret adopted kid is old news. Can I just say that I thought he was disgusting before it was cool to think he's disgusting? Because I totally did.

I shall leave you all with this fashion no-no. Oh Peaches.

The urge to hit you across the head with a rolled up newspaper is strong.