I'm Slowly Converting My Friends To My Ways Of Old Women Hobbies. I Embroider. My Friend Knits. My Other

I'm slowly converting my friends to my ways of old women hobbies. I embroider. My friend knits. My other friend sews. Once the third friend's arm heals it's over for them. They cannot run. They cannot hide. Crocheting is coming for them. Crocheting is coming.

must a piece of media be “good?” is it not enough to first encounter it aged thirteen and have your brain completely rewired forever?

it's very frustrating that when you do something mature---something that really demonstrates how much you've grown as a human being and adult---no full orchestra immediately appears in your kitchen to play verdi's triumphal march and/or an arrangement of tina turner's "the best" at top volume.