Bead me up, baby

Beads and I have never hit it off. I always end up flinging them across the room and then cursing like a drunken sailor while I round the effin' things up with a broom and dustpan.

Just like the insane person who keeps slamming his head against the wall thinking things will be different after the next head bang, I came home with another vial of beads swearing things are gonna be different this time. Whatever. It's time to start the lace. If the beads don't work out, the cats will get their workout chasing the suckers around the room.