CraftGawker Likes Me

13 Dec

Not doing me any good, but somebody at CraftGawker likes me.  My last submission was accepted, which makes 4 in a row and 4 for 7.  If that was my batting average, every male baseball fan in America would want me.

Go check out CraftGawker and find my Mer Made Bubbles bracelet.  Then click on it (that’s “gawking”) and then click on the heart in the lower right hand corner (that’s “favoriting”).  I want you to Make Me POPULAR.  Search for “faeriekat” and do both of those things to my other 3 photos.  Then get your mother, your grandmother, your dog, your boyfriend, your cheese grater and your auto mechanic to do the same.  I need LOVE.  Go on, get going.  Pretend you like me if you have to.  Now, scoot!

3 Responses to “CraftGawker Likes Me”

  1. gt281 December 13, 2009 at 3:45 AM #

    I don’t have to pretend——

    Isn’t the red elf season just the most delightful time of all?
    No stress,, no fuss,, no muss,, no hurry,, nothing to do but catch faery poo on your tongue…..

    Cast a spell for me today,, I have to leave my cozy dungeon abode and brave the coupon welding minions at the mall—-I hate my sisters ‘C’ & ‘J’…..I’m even going to miss drunkenly staring at the flyin’ orb and I heard that “It’s a Wonderful Life” is starting its annual 11 day infestment of the airways—-

    • Faerie♥Kat December 13, 2009 at 10:30 AM #

      Look at it this way: Maybe you’ll get hit by the Budweiser truck while out and about. Then it will all have been worth it as you lick every drop up off the tarmac before it freezes into fizzy yellow ice (I looked into my crystal ball and I know who will win in such a mighty contest). So drive fast and reckless, keep a lookout for frogs on the roadside, and carry a heated beer stein with you at all times. Mwah!

  2. gt281 December 13, 2009 at 11:03 AM #

    Ahhh,, that brings back hallucinatory memories,, except it was a Coors truck…

    It all happened when I was just a wee tadpole of a curmudgeon,, while driving my Uncle’s ’53 powder blue Bel-Air convertible. I was late for a meeting with an outdoor
    creamed donut salesman and was speeding down the Ventura highway towards the
    corner of 5th and Walbash,, in Sana Peso—-at least that’s what my parole officer told me—-

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