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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. 


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.)

My Redneck Weekend


Saturday turned out to be redneck day. No seriously - it was super fun. We decided we were going to go shooting at the range (for no reasons other than to make bets on who has the best aim and hear really loud noises).

But of course we had to go get ammo first (giggle). So we went to Outdoor World.

I can never get enough of Outdoor World. They have so many special things there. Things that make me wonder about how other people live. Like for instance these baby camo diaper ...things. I have no idea what one would call these.

I have to say that the eyelet fringe effect may cause this baby's cover to be blown WIDE open while wandering around in the woods.

I wonder if the designer saw this being a layered look. Where there was a complimentary camo dress that could be worn over the diaper covers and with the hat and maybe camo mary janes... with a camo parasol.

So much to see at Outdoor World.

This is another moment when I asked Bryant to do something so fast that he did not have enough time to think about it. That has made for some of my most cherished photographs. Later I would tell him that this hat was for Juniors. It would explain the ill fitting nature.

And of course there was a warthog in the ladies department ...because when I am shopping for light weight breathable tops I find myself drawn towards eye level wildabeast.  Animals that could rip your facial features from your person by hooking that broken tusk (must have fallen over during inventory) into your delicate skin. I bet this animals mother never knew her offspring would end up in suburban a glorified fishing shop.

So once I was done checking out hunting fashions - we moved on towards the ammo dept. I noticed this shelf of ammo first for the pretty boxes, second for the contents escaping and then it was brought home by the slogan on the box. "I Didn't Come This Far To Miss". Long live the south. 

Decisions, decisions. On one hand the product name "Coon Urine" can beat a straight flush any day. But look at the extra sales effort on the Doe Urine. It has "Territorial Non-Threatening Curiosity Appeal"...what beats that? That is fantastic.

Do you think they put pictures of the animals on the bottles for when the hunters are just searching through their pee collection really quickly, like at a glance? I wonder how many varieties of these products there are? Do you think at the plant where they bottle this stuff - that they have a raucus christmas party that ends in inebriated employees jokingly peeing into little bottles and putting them back on the line. 'Doe Urine' becomes 'Joe Urine' and they all get a good belly laugh. Somehow I like that idea.

So we finally left the store and went to the shooting range. It was pretty much all men. As you would expect. But there were some REAL lookers there. While we were waiting for a lane, Fat Jesus came in. You may remember him from The Hangover. This guy was a dead ringer for him. Bryant and I just looked on in awe as he paraded around the store acting like a total idiot. It was like he walked straight out of the movie.

Tupac was also there. Kid must have been about 19. He had a dime sized fake diamond earing. Regulation sideways hat and half on jeans. As he was pointing to the rental guns he was going to try out, Bryant leans over to me and whispers "I hope we are on the opposite side of the facility from that guy". That being the only jinx we needed - he was in the lane right next to us. He had no idea how to control the weapons he was trying out and kept recoiling back from the safty shield area. I was literally being showered by empty shell casings the size of match books. AHHHH!!! You are not making me happy you crazy lunatic.

While he was exchanging weapons at the desk (he must have tried five different rental guns - each successively larger with a completely different ammo) that gave the rest of us time to stop jumping out of our skin in fear for our lives. During that time I actually shot pretty well. Not as well as Bryant - but honestly, who expected me to? The man was was in the military and owns an arsenal. Plus he has eagle eyesight that is creepy.

I was just happy that I shot better than Tupac.