I am not disturbed

I have a disconcerting (to others) way of bringing conversation in a restaurant to a complete halt just by chatting to another herper about the most humane ways of euthanizing prey.

Or revelling in the latest cool visual, like on CSI this week, when the tech, when trying to aspirate the vitreous humor from the eye to determine the approximate TOD (that would be time of death), and the whole dessicated eyeball and tangle of optic nerves came out looking like a cute little baby octopus.

Or figuring out ways to kill people, because I figure that talking about possibilities and writing about them are a heckuva lot better than actually going out and putting my ideas into practice (though I am at times sorely tempted).

Some of you knitters and FOK (friends of knitters) out there may have already come across the knitted uterus, complete with frilly fallopian tubes, a wonderful gift for that nice gynecologist in your life. There are also knitted breasts (supposedly used for educational purposes, teaching people the correct way to breastfeed their infants) and other anatomically mostly correct parts.

Nice, nice. Yawn, yawn.

But then I came across some knitted objets that truly tickled my warp gene: Beautiful Art Made With Knitting. I'd say that no cute fluffy bunnies were killed in the making of this production, but, well...


Not a lizard, and nothing knitted, just Tobago making short shrift of her favorite prey...