I guess someone got wind that there was a white girl up in Harlem knitting and playing the ukulele, and I've been sentenced to imprisonment in Brooklyn with the rest of the hipsters. I almost feel relieved to have been caught. I've been on the run so long, living a lie in upper Manhattan. It feels good to finally be honest about who and what I am.
So, my cats answered a Craig's List ad about a sunny top floor brownstone apartment that overlooks a park with lots of squirrel activity and that has a layout which allows for premium run-sprints-around-the-joint-crazy-go-nuts action. They stole my cellphone and disguised their little kitty voices and forged my name on the lease. I'm not very happy about it, and I'm considering legal action.
Something about ninjas and an evil otter and for some reason Brooklyn is the key to saving mankind from utter destruction.
The truth is boring, but the fact is I'm moving to Brooklyn in two weeks. My posts may be a little sparse until then, but rest assured, my yarn will be packed up last of all.