Overalls of Shame and Cemetary Hopping

The knitter's nightmare, The Overalls of Shame as they've been dubbed in prominant circles (yes, the knittyboard is a prominant circle because I like to feel important), are going to be knitted by an actual person other than the designer. That brave soul is me. They are the gag gift to end all gag gifts and I can't take it any longer. After MONTHS of looking at them all over the internet I broke down and swapped for the magazine that had the pattern. It arrived just yesterday and it was everything I had ever hoped for. The downer in this project is that I can't afford the yarn for them, I really can't afford any non-Christmas gift yarn at all which is why all my new projects over there are Christmas gifts. But those awesome knittyheads with senses of humor as dark as mine heard my plea and are sending me their extra balls of Glitterspun, Magic Stripes, and even some Fun Fur for trim. What that means is that these things are going to be about a thousand colors and trimmed at the thighs (and possibly the straps) with Fun Fur, and you thought they couldn't get any uglier. You were wrong. So very wrong. Which brings me to the question everyone has been asking, "Sarah, why would you spend time and effort on these hideous things? Is there something wrong with you?" Yes, something is wrong with me, perhaps even a multitude of things, but that's not why I want to do this. I'm doing this for some very special relatives of mine. My best girls in the world. My sister and my three girl cousins (one of which isn't in this picture, she had to stay home that night). Yes, that's right I'm doing this because I know that then I will win the ongoing gag gift competition between myself and said relatives. Previous gifts have included a Learn to do the Macerena video, a candle in the shape of a shriner monkey, a t-shirt beset with bows and a scrawled with a magic marker stating, "My favorite relative gave me this shirt." We're strange people, we know. We knew that the night we went all over town looking for cemeteries to spook ourselves out. The one from the picture is in Old Town San Diego, the famous grave of Yankee Jim, in fact. Really it was a fun night despite the fact that nothing spooky happened. We did have a few moments of panic in the middle of nowhere when we thought we might run out of gas. It just seems a shame that I missed the big scare a few weeks before: my sister had dropped me off at home and was taking the girls back to her place when they drove past this thing. It wasn't all well lit at the time and passing it at 45 miles an hour all they knew was that something large and inhuman was looming over the road. Ah, to be scared by a lawn ornament. I miss the best stuff. So anyway, I'm going to make the Overalls of Shame. It's going to be awesome.