And they said it couldn’t be done; that I couldn’t spend an evening chatting and whooping it up with long lost girlfriends while simultaneously drinking and knitting Pomatomus socks. My progress is not an indication that these long lost girlfriends are boring but points toward my mad skillz with the needles and also my hollow leg.
Probably it’s really more about my hollow leg than anything else.

how about a little pork?

foyer pig wearing the sleigh bells that I forgot to put away from Christmas