The Witch's Knife

   While shopping for my new apartment, and restocking kitchen supplies, I have found one thing to be true. Paring knifes are not created equally. Some of them, in fact, are really crappy and little better than a butter knife. Try peeling cucumbers with those, or slicing up your apples. You end up basically tearing off the peel, and that takes an awful lot of vegetable along with the peel, which is waste; or you rip off pieces of your apple, and can't cut straight, leaving a lot of fruit on the core. I don't know about you, but I pay a lot for fresh produce; I don't want that produce feeding the trashcan, I want the fruits and veggies to feed me and my daughter.

This knife has proven to be very bloodthirsty. 

   So I was very frustrated with the paring knifes that I had picked up from the grocery store. They weren't knives, they were crap pretending to be knives. When I went shopping for my do-it-yourself furniture, I made a point of hunting out a good paring knife. After finding one that suited me, I took the knife home.
   As I was standing at my counter, blissfully slicing up my apple with my new knife, which cut though the apple like there was nothing there but air, I stabbed myself in the finger. Which, for some reason, caused massive bleeding, even though the puncture was just a tiny one.
   I thought nothing more of this beyond the fact that I had just bled all over my apple, which was going to end up feeding the trash anyway, because there was no way  I was eating a bloody apple. I don't care if that could be rinsed off, or that the blood was my own. YUCK. No bloody apples are being consumed in this household. But beyond the waste of the apple, I had no suspicions about that knife, but I did do my usual facebook post, letting everyone know that my finger had been mutilated by my new knife.
   And I had a friend respond that the knife was a witch's knife (wink, wink, you know who you are!!) Naw, I thought. Until, about five minutes after I read that comment, as I was cutting up another apple (I make a really yummy apple dip out of cream cheese, which is why I am eating so many apples,) I sliced open my finger, again. A much bigger cut. That bled a lot more. Yet another bloody apple in the trash.
   Which has led me to believe that there is something up with that knife. I have had the thing for a total of one day and one night. Two cuts: two wasted apples. This trend is very suspicious. Do I believe in the supernatural? Hmmmm. If you have been reading my posts, you know the answer to that. If this is your first time reading about my supernatural fears, let me take a moment to direct your attention to certain tales about children's toys, used furniture, and unruly registers. But regardless of all that, supernatural or not,  there is something amiss with this bloodthirsty knife. But I can't get rid of the knife, because then I would be left with nothing but that crap in my drawer that is just pretending to be a paring knife. Yup, if this was a horror movie, I would be that dumbass white girl who dies first. Good thing this isn't a horror movie. Or is it???

Evil Furbies

   So Christmas is over and all of the presents are unwrapped and my daughter is comparing loot with my niece and nephew. Since we live in the same household for the time being, my sister and I share Christmas present plans so that we can do comparable Christmases for our kiddos. We don't want the Christmases to be unbalanced.

It's pissed; we're in trouble now. 

   Well, this Christmas my sister decided to get her kids furbies. She's been obsessed with the creepy things since her own childhood, and when they started making them again, she had to share her furby mania  with her children. Sometimes we do matching gifts, if we know that the kids will all like the gift. However, I did not want to get a furby so I opted for a gift of a fancy blue stuffed bear from the Build-A-Bear workshop, complete with a few outfits so that my daughter can dress her bear up in differing fashions. And my daughter loves her bear, she really does. But.... she also loves the furby and I can tell that she wants one too. And I have an irrational fear of toys that can develop their own personalities. Oh hell yeah, because furbies do develop personalities based on the way that you treat them and interact with them.

This little furby could be hiding profound supernatural strength.

   How is this a good idea??? Am I the only person who ever watched Chucky? What if the furby's personality decides to be demonic? I can't handle that. I can't handle demon toys; they scare the crap out of me. What am I supposed to do when the little bugger decides that it wants to kill us all? What if it starts chanting in tongues and begins summoning Hell into my very own living room? It has no arms, so it's powers are probably going to border on the supernatural, and I thought knife-wielding dolls were bad. Sure, the thing is smaller than a cat, but small things can be powerful. You should never underestimate the power of the small; they are strong in mind. And yes, the thing does have a reset button, that you can press if you do not like the emerging personality, but if the furby develops evil, demonic, supernatural abilities, do you really imagine that you are going to get close enough to press that button? I don't think so. It's going to protect itself, and you are going to be the first to die. Great. Good job, sister. Our lives, our very souls are in danger, and so I wrote this blog.  Now, when we all don't show up for work, everybody will know that the furbies are responsible.