Pantyhose sausages.

When I was rolling pantyhose sausages, all I could hear in my head was 'We are the wieners. We are, we are!'. Wait, wait, what? Once upon a time there was a Eurovision song. And probably the best what our music grands could have came up with in many years. And we almost won. Like 6th place. No joke, that was big. Of course there were no 'wieners' in the song lyrics only 'winners', but probably due to our sometimes funny pronunciation and a little arrogance encoded in the song native English people threw some jokes around, that all what they can hear is 'we are the wieners of Eurovision'. But what has Eurovision and (pantyhose) sausages in common? And more importantly what tights have to do with chairs?

When in need.

There is that much what you can say about a chair and squeeze out of it's simplicity. The one, I asked my parents to bring me to Vilnius, when they came for a visit and which while lying in the bed with book in hands I wanted to lodge into my room. 'Wouldn't it be nice to have a chair for my handbag? I would put it right in empty spot next to the bookshelf. It's so annoying when bag doesn't have it's place and is always unpleasantly in my way', I would lie there still for a second in big need for a small change contemplating new addition to room's decor. 'Tomorrow I'll look something up. Probably a small chair, nothing fancy, with old changeable cover and legs screaming for a paint job. And then I remembered the perfect match for my imagined chair standing in my old room at parents house. It was quick and almost sweet feeling starting and finishing search within several minutes.