Day 72: Brat
The dog, not the kid. [Project 365
Oh, Midtown. This is why I love you. [Project 365]
Some Sundays are made for big brunches, fishbowl mimosas, snacking on baby feet, traipsing through the Old Forest, speculating wildly about what all those lone men were doing on those secluded trails, and watching the world’s tiniest Ewok rip through the woods, dog drunk on pure joy. [Project 365]
So nice of you to bark at me when I was taking pictures of the neighbor’s Japanese maple and then escort me home when I got scared of you and ran away.
This is how pinkeye gets started. [Project 365]
Went to a party. Warmed a house. Met a dog with a British accent who couldn’t get enough weiners. Ahhh, weekends. [Project 365]
You could put this dog in your mouth and start chewing and she wouldn’t offer a single protest. [Project 365]
Mother’s Day this year entailed a giant box of fried chicken (fifty pieces!) and me sipping on sugary homemade margaritas and watching cable on a big-screen TV for nine hours. I gave my mom a couple of mom-and-daughter-themed books and she was so touched that, the next day, she went and got two huge pink peonies out of the flower bed and brought them in while serenading me with “You Are So Beautiful.” She’s the…
We didn’t intend to trash Ashley/Will/Semelea/Justin’s house when we went over there for food and fellowship, but we are a whirling dervish of crazy and we leave a path of destruction everywhere we go. Also, we will spend a substantial amount of time making out with your sweet little dog and possibly breaking his heart. You’ve been warned. [Project 365]
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