It's the last day of finals, so I finally got started on my resolution to improve my needlework. It takes time.
So I dug out the embroidery hoop and got started on a few basic stitches. Didn't come out quite as I had hoped. Kept practicing for a few hours, but then I got bored and tired, so I dug out some cloth scraps and started working on a Temari Ball. In terms of needle work, a Temari Ball is complicated in how detail intensive it is. Tightly winding strips of cloth, then yarn, then thread, and then the needlework begins. I have a ball about the size of my fist, and it's slightly lopsided. That will change, but I need white yarn, and I just don't have any, so it's back to the embroidery.
Common Sense dictates that if you are aware that you are being followed, you don't stop the car, you don't get out of the car, you don't drop off your passengers, and most importantly, you don't go home or to the home of your family members.
Which is exactly what my Uncle Robert did NOT do.
He knew he was being followed, all the way from his home in Montebello, and did he turn into the parking lot at City Hall, which was right ACROSS THE STREET? No. He stops the car in front of Grandmom's house, and let the kids come in. And what happened? The guy who followed him, sat in HIS car, in front of Grandmom's house, for half an hour. Pretending to talk on the phone. Adjusting mirrors to watch the house. His face alternately turned toward the Gym across the street or covered by his hand when he turned to look directly at the house.
No, we don't have the license plate number, because 1) No one who has been raised by my Grandparents are stupid enough to go outside when something like this happens, and 2) Uncle Robert came back. Parked the car, and came inside. WHILE THE STALKER WAS STILL THERE.
Facepalm.
I know Grandmom and Grandfather will NOT be sleeping well tonight if at all after this latest in a very long string of shows of stupidity by my erstwhile Uncle Robert. All I can say is "Thank the Stars that Uncle Robert is only my Uncle by marriage, because if I had his blood, I'd have slit my wrists in frustration a long time ago.
Seriously, in a war between plot bunnies and time lords, who wins?
Because Plot Bunnies are a lot like Time Lords. You kill one off, and then it regenerates into a new one, and you know what? It's stronger and more cunning.
Oh Dear.... ((stares morosely at the plot bunny)) I have a Transformers bunny that's been with me for a while, one that's being written, in which Sam is not quite as human as the Transformers think... And There's a Doctor Who bunny in which Humanized!Doctor ends up in another universe. And you know what? They've <b>MERGED</b>. Actually, Considering that I've been on a Doctor Who kick in addition to my Transformers kick, I really shouldn't be surprised.
So guess what? This new crazy bunny has become.... Drumroll please... A Doctor Who/Transformers Crossover!!!! (facepalm))
In which Sam opens his pocketwatch after watching Starscream blow up the Xantium, and the Doctor opens up a can of whoop ass on the Decepticons.
There! Now someone take the bunny. Take it! I'm already overrun, I can't deal with one more!!!!
