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2002-01-28 3:48 p.m.

The bead shop. It is where hippies and girls go to buy weird jewelry–related things, right?

Girl 1: I can't wait to go shopping and buy some bead things at the bead shop so I can make jewelry! It is going to be beautiful like a deep, meaningful relationship! Don't you think so Girl 2?

Girl 2: I have a vagina!

Girl 3: I am making a beaded shrine to the Indigo Girls and Natalie Imbruglia!

Or...

Hippie 1: I really wish I had a nice hemp didgeriedoo holder, man. Maybe I should make one—I don't have any money to buy one, since all my panhandled spare change goes to feed my dog, Reggae Ganja Hound. What do you think Hippie 2?

Hippie 2: Let's smoke some far–out nuggets through our tobacco waterpipe. And then also DREADLOCKS. After that, we will also smoke the bead store.



This weekend I learned that the bead store is not just for hippies and girls! It is an exciting place full of some really cool things. Not only do they have beads in all colors, shapes, and sizes, but also many other interesting materials for making things. Ribbons! Jewelry clasps! Assorted little metal bits! All you need to do is add some imagination.

So, I bought $5 worth of beads and some cord for putting the beads on. I was so getting my arts and crafts on. I was going to make a cool necklace to hang from the rear–view mirror of my car.

I went home, spread out my things on the kitchen table, and got down to some X–treme crafting. It turned out that beading is fun and easy! After only a few minutes, I had come up with something I really was proud of.


Look at those chubby airplanes, all bloated with flammable, exploding jet fuel!

When Andie got home, I was so excited to show my crafty creation to her. I had a plan of how I could best showcase it—when it was time for us to drive to dinner, I suggested that we take my car so she would be able to see the necklace in all its glory.

We got into my car and there it was dangling from my rear–view mirror, like a beacon of joy and love and happiness. I laughed with joy!

Something strange happened, though—Andie was actually not as excited about it as I was.

Andie: Um, why is this funny?

Justin: [Choking, coughing from laughter.]Well, let's see: I am laughing.



She explained that she was just not sure why I wanted to drive around with that on my mirror all the time. She was also concerned that I was going to get pulled over Mr. Policeman one day and he would see it and then him and Ponch would crank up the mustache and give me a healthy plate of ass rape with their cop batons before sending me to prison forever.

I mean, I am glad that Andie is looking out for me, but, hey folks, this is my art. This is my craft. This is how I express myself, right? Sigh. It is just so hard being a sensitive, artistic craftsperson.


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