sock

Rachel's Story About Headless Gabriel

I find that when I make dolls out of socks they come out a whole lot dumber than the other dolls I make. Perhaps it's because I fill their heads with less stuffing fluff so the socks don't stretch out too much. One particular doll of mine truly shines as far as stupidity.

Rachael's Story About "I Found An Alternate Dimension In A Hole In My Sock Painting"

My favorite argyle sock. Missing for ages, now its little nose pokes out from underneath the dryer like a suspicious weasel. I make a dive for it as if, after its first taste of freedom it might try to make a break for it, back to the unknown lint-filled worlds beneath the large appliance. I snatch it and promptly wrangle it onto my foot, "You shall not escape me again!" (I don't know why I'm so stern toward it, it IS my favorite sock...) Adequately socked and shod, I sally forth into my day.

My friend Jo Jo Stilletto (yes, she's a Roller Girl) traded me these sock puppets that she made.

Hand made sock puppets. Ironic? No. Not really. It's okay, they were new socks. As far as I know.

One of them is a unicorn and the other one is the unicorn's mean trainer.

He makes the unicorn lift weights at 6:30 in the morning and is, in general, an asshole.