pull the strings.
© 1996 Jamie Zawinski <jwz@jwz.org>

A group of us had gone to see Mephisto Walz. There was a woman there, leaning against the stage, who was scary even for a member of the crowd at a goth club. She was black yet was wearing white facepaint, giving the impression more of a corpse than a vampire. She had long, thick, heavily-matted light brown dreadlocks which looked for all the world like three-foot-long turds.

Shortly after the band started, she picked her lunchbox up off the floor (a steel construction-worker type) and set it on the stage. She opened it, came out with a bundle of yarn, two long needles, and began knitting!

The band kept looking down at her with amused half-smiles. I don't guess they see a lot of that, either. (But then, maybe they do.)

``I wonder,'' Laura asked, ``if someone were to cut her thread, would someone die?''