Apparently I belong to a new category of human being: I am a "crafter," subcategory "beader." Because you know what? I just don't feel comfortable taking an occasional trip to the bead store, picking up some flexi-wire and a couple of tubes of seed beads, and spending Sunday afternoon on my bed stringing pretty necklaces and watching Netflix'd episodes of Six Feet Under without turning meditative busy work into a goddamned cult. Beading! I'm a beader! Does that requires that I sign up to become one of the cat sweatshirt people, or does the transformation happen so gradually that you don't notice it, you just wake up one day with a hot-glue gun in your hand and find all your Kleenex boxes have been covered in Swarovski crystals?

You know what? I barely care, and I'll tell you why.
Mr. Kitty, that's why.
MR. KITTY, MOTHERFUCKERS!
BOW BEFORE MR. KITTY!
SCRATCH HIS EARS WHILE HE FEASTS ON YOUR CREDIT CARD SOUL!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!