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Crofton, MD, 21114

A long-running personal blog shared by two authors with completely different approaches to life. And a lot of large, beautiful photographs of dogs and nature and places we've traveled to. Rich in commentary and irreverant in style. 

Blog

We started blogging a long time ago. Our work hours never aligned with recommended psychotherapists and we needed to get our thoughts out. We are great friends, total opposites and long-time housemates. This was a way to communicate. With each other. With strangers. With consumer marketers. With sub-par meteorologists. With distant friends who wanted to see pictures of stuff we were up to.

This is the place. Our bucket of thoughts to share. You are welcome. 
(We realize that most of you are here for the dog pictures.)

Paranoia-self-distroia

Healey

Sometimes the best friends to have are graphic artists.Do you know what the symbol to the left is? Pure sex appeal ladies and gentlemen…that’s what. No, actually there is an answer. I'm curious as to how many of my friends would recognize the symbol.

So I haven’t written in the last week...because my hands have been so busy lifting food and wine to my mouth. Every bloody waking moment I have stuffed my face. My work pants laughed at me this morning when I reintroduced myself to them outside of the closet. Then my heeled boots got in on the fun when I caught my left foot on some orphaned Christmas gift bag – this of course sent me crashing face first into the doorknob of my own bedroom door. As I lay there on the floor I contemplated how ugly my doorknobs are. Do people actually polish their own doorknobs?  Mental note to hire someone to do that when I am filthy rich.

So I’m sitting here across from Yenny watching her search for her CES pass. She has so far found last years pass and a Filemaker 5.0 disc. It’s fun to watch her mouse around on her side of the desk. Currently I am consumed with an allergy reaction to a cat I interfaced with about an hour ago (not mine) I have sneezed eight times in the last three minutes. Every time I sneeze it’s like a mental reset. I completely forget what I was doing/thinking just before the explosion and I come out of it like amnesia. Yenny is still looking for the CES pass. This is karma for her not taking me with her to Las Vegas.

So Yenny is in the market (and has been since the inception of the smart phone) for a blackberry/wallet/holster/thing *solution. She agonizes over these types of products. I could write a novel on the years spent trying to find the perfect messenger bag that would carry two laptops, plus accessories, AND a snack. It was painful. She settled on two and bought them both. And as far as I know she still HAS both…she torments herself with shopping. I love watching it. So far the two runners up for her crackberry/credit card holster are these.

The first one looks like a makeup kit with a belt loop and the second one looks like something Fonzie would own. Note that the second one has a wee tiny SD card condom holder. Tee hee. Goes well with that black Platinum card, no?

I can write about this freely because she has already announced four times in the last 20 minutes that she hates me for my opinions. What a sour asian she is this December night. Tisk tisk.

Yenny activity update: she is sitting across from me ripping up unsolicited return of address stickers. I looked at her and she defensively reacts with a “What!?” It seems she is afraid her return address sticker from the evil empire of March of dimes is closely related to identity theft.

 I can’t tell you the numerous times I have seen the droves of homeless Crofton vagrants going through my recycling and/or trash bins looking for the prize of free stickers with my name imprinted upon them. <blink>

I just sneezed again and it seems my eyeball has the ability to spit onto the interior of my glasses. I am enamored with my ability to gross myself out. My backup career plan as a freakish carnie is now secure.

How many benedryl is too many benedryl to take in an hour? Ugh….I need a glass of wine.

Tomorrow I have lunch with my former colleagues in China town at my favorite restaurant Clyde’s. I will go to bed debating my lunch order.

The “Dust and Air Diet” will commence without a soft launch on Jan 1. Until then...I will continue to be a threat to unclaimed carbs and sweet treats. 

The paranoid skitzophrenic is still macerating stickers beside me. She knows I am writing about her. She is threatening to make this task my job once she wins the lottery. She glares into my soul as she says this. Fricking “angry Trump Smurph” that she is.