Uncaffeinated Mental Meanderings

I'm still knitting on the Frostrosen Blob. It's creeping along so slowly right now that if it was the monster in a cheesy 50's horror movie, we'd be at the scene where the well dressed and perfectly coiffed but clearly brainless, female type would be running away from it with her hands held in the air in a dainty manner, screaming. Of course, she would be looking back at it and then trip and fall. At that point naturally, she would turn her head and scream even louder as the Shawl of Doom creeps across the floor, but she wouldn't bother standing up. In my opinion, it would totally serve her right to get eaten.

I mean seriously, if you really fear for your life, quit your silly screaming, kick off those heels, put your hands down and RUN! If you do fall, you don't turn and look and scream some more, hoping that the highly chauvinistic male lead will scoop you up and save you - he's going to slap you anyway to snap you out of your hysterical carryings on (and while I don't agree with that kind of thing in principle, cheesy 50's horror movie bimbos, and a couple of highly irritating Bond girls could use a good slap. Goodnight? And she's supposed to be an agent? Please! )

I won't bore you with a picture of Frostrosen looking remarkably like it did the other day, hopefully the mental image of the Shawl of Doom will amuse you enough today.