Paranorman, Spoilers Only

What the ever loving fuck? Is this what it’s like to get three-quarters of the way through a burger only to find half a pube in it?

Someone explain this bullshit to me.

There’s a little girl. A genuine little girl, not some Judy-Garland-playing-pretend situation. And the town accuses her, tries her, and executes her for witchcraft. Which, you know, is a pretty fucking terrible thing to do. So, she curses them, which is the only fucking thing she can do in the situation.

And she’s the motherfucking bad guy? None of those assholes who fucking murdered her even have to, oh, you know, face her and apologize?!

The movie even calls her a bully. They fucking murdered her and she’s the bully because she’s hurt and scared and angry?

What lesson, exactly, are kids supposed to take from this piece of shit? That adults can do whatever they want to you and as long as they have a good excuse, you just need to get the fuck over it?

Fuck that shit.

If a children’s movie can’t have compassion for the little murdered girl at its heart… I just don’t even know.

I wish I’d never seen that.

Since I’m making this up as I go and I’m not actually sure what it’s going to take to be done, like I’m not sure how many squares, I decided to start with the brown squiggle. I’m working on another two rows (this is two rows her, technically), which I think will make it thick enough to please me. Oh, and you can see the border for the other blanket there.

It’s a balalaika! Thanks, Dad!

I’ve Got Them Old Balalaika Blues

1. The Butcher is finally home, one $500 car repair and lunch with my parents later!

2. For some reason, this meant that the cats and dog had to go stand in the creek and refuse to come inside.

3. Yes, that was me in my bathrobe out in my front yard yelling at the animals.

4. I assume they have their bizarre customs–standing in the creek, for instance–and they respect that I have mine–yelling at them about it.

5. My dad sent the Butcher home with a balalaika. Which is weird. I didn’t even know my dad owned a balalaika. But, if you’re in need of one, feel free to come over and get your fix.

6. Fuck the zig zag afghan. I’m going to tell you a great truth about it–it’s boring. I have made many afghans in my day, none as soul-crushingly boring as the zig-zag afghan. You win for now, zig-zag afghan! You win, for now.

7. In related news, the Charlie Brown baby blanket I’m making is instead going to be a diagonal granny square afghan. So, imagine those squares, but tilted up like diamonds. The best part is that I’m having good fun learning how to make granny triangles, so that the whole thing ends up square. So, I’m winging it, but I think I’ll still end up with a blanket that is gold with a recognizable chocolate squiggle. I’m making up the pattern myself, so I’m not sure how many squares it will involve. But I’m anxious to see what other kinds of granny-esque afghans I could make both with my knowledge of how to do this tilted version and with my knowledge of how to make triangles, now.