I forgot to mention I'm going to drop everything and dedicate my life to the noble art of painstakingly creating penis-shaped handmade crafts.
That's right. Your eyes do not deceive you. Back in April, when I returned to Washington
to prove that one can indeed move to the Midwest and not become the stereotypical overweight American who subsists entirely on fast food although sometimes cheese curds and tater tots do not help for Annie's bachelorette weekend, I convinced everyone that making felt geoducks was a great way to spend the afternoon.
Because, you know, a geoduck is just so PNW.
And of course we all had to pose with our handiwork because sewing these puppies took a lot more effort than we originally thought. (Especially when you are simultaneously drinking margaritas.) Also: Who doesn't want a photo with a hand-stitched felt penis?
The scary part (besides my Twins sweatshirt and its grim reminder of how horribly atrocious the Twins are this season): I didn't pose like this on purpose.
(And if you're interested in making your very own felt