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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.)

Hamlet, Salvatore and Yenny :)

Healey

Read this over on The Mattress Police and thought it was funny enough to repeat:

Scott Oglesby commented on my observation that establishing a perimeter never seems to do any good on '24': 

You bring up an interesting point; I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a perimeter work in television or movies. Sometimes it comes close, but it never works. As a matter of fact, the phrase “establish a perimeter” should now be used exclusively as slang for failure. IE; “Wow Mike, you really ‘established a perimeter’ with the ladies at the club last night!” Or, “How’s Karen been doing with her opiate withdrawal?” To which the reply is, “Oh man, she’s ‘established a perimeter’ around the heroin again.”

 

I was trying to retell it to someone from memory and just massacred it. So I went back to reread it.

 

At this very moment I am being flamed by confirmed friends on facebook. I happened to mention in my status update that I   "just got out of a speeding ticket by explaining to the officer that I had to pee.”
Now all the men hate me. (haha) I don’t care. I really did have to pee. Honesty is my superpower.

All lower beings must squint in my direction – behold the godlike nuclear light emanating from my general direction.

Yenny is insulting me again. I like using her name. Because once, she said – “don’t use my name” – she said – “say roomie or something”. She’s paranoid normally….so this is like a gimme. She has to know that I don’t do well with direct commands like that. And that “roomie” is not one of my normal vocabulary words. She is insulting me by trying to explain her surprise at me being a movie crier.

Yes I cry at movies. She asked if I thought the movie “The Time Travelers Wife” was good. I answered with all of my information on that subject. “Alyssa saw it and cried”. “She seemed nonplussed. “did she say it was good?” “No. She said she cried. That’s all.” “Well that’s no help. You are both sad sack movie criers”. She then went on to try and expound on the subject after I stopped typing and looked up at her. Her final word on the subject was that she was surprised that I would be such a woos. Damn Chinese people. Let them into your country and they think they have the right to say everything they are thinking. Who do they think they are? So yesterday in the kitchen…I was waiting for the convection oven to pre-heat so I could put my chicken in and then forget about it. (as you do) But it was taking forever - and YENNY was there – so I decided to interview her while she was eating her cereal. My question was “so if you could have a pet that was not a dog or a cat – what would it be?” She ate thoughtfully until she regained eye contact and said. “A pig”. I was delighted. How exciting. I never knew she wanted a pig. We must have spent half the day researching adoptable pigs on PetFinder and considering possible names.

I think she finally settled on Hamlet as a name. The next best contender was “Bacon” but honestly – the joke was ‘nude in public’ on that one. My animal was – and has been for years – a white Indian runner duck. I’m mad for them. I have this mental image of working out in the garden and sitting in the dirt reading the back of a fertilizer bag to Sal (Salvatore) as he floats around and around in a mini bright blue baby pool about 3 feet away. Thor enters the picture – just back from another unsuccessful squirrel hunt and barges his way into the baby pool like a drunk into a men’s room stall. Thus expelling half the water from the basin and setting Sal’s nerves awry as he is forced to sit upon the now partially submerged chocolate Labrador brain trust. Hambone looks on from his Adirondack perch – “Fools.”

So….does anyone know what AM and PM stand for? I mean without googling it first? How did I get to be an adult and not know this? (YENNY doesn't know either - before you go judging.)