Like Twines Through an Hourglass

Ahh, the magic of Halloween. Those Old Celts with their crazy pagan traditions have really put together an all-star lineup of holidays for the modern American tramp. Remember when it was just about the candy? Lame-sylvania. Now it's about the costume. And the drinking!

My Celtic holidays have been good over the last couple of years. A couple of riots in Madison, an obtuse reference with 3-hole-punch Jim, a possibly insensitive bloody Steve Irwin (2 months might have be too soon), and then  a Don Draper and Joan Holloway a year before anybody would recognize Don Draper and Joan Holloway. This year, ripped straight from the headlines, the Twine Flu. Which is like the Swine Flu, but thinner and ropier.

It's surprisingly contagious though. Luckily the lobster only caught a mild case, localized to her wrists. They are your prime twine exposure areas after all. Unfortunately, they're also your most important de-twining appendages. We can only hope that she's had that LobstoBaby of her's immunized, children and lobsters under 6 are the Twine's most susceptible demographic.


















When it spread to The Frog though I started to get worried. Frogs don't even have wrists. That meant it was time to pull out the big guns—the penicillin of rope, the kryptonite of string, the Twine's only known cure—the box-cutter.

In conclusion, beware. The Twine is out there.

It's watching.



And it will entwine you.



If I could turn back twine, I'd only change two things:
1. Even more twine.
2. Skip the Vernors.