Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

Back in the US, back in the US, back in the USVI

I'm sitting in our hotel room in St. Thomas, waiting for Crockett to find food more appealing than both of us laying on the bed in the air-conditioning wearing nothing but... Well, nothing.Clearly, it's going to be a few minutes. Tomorrow, I fly home. I am so fucking excited, you guys. So excited. I'll get to see my puppies and my house and my bed and my cauliflowers that I'm growing even though I don't really like cauliflower and am mostly growing because I like how it looks like brains coming up out of a leafy center. Wait, what's that you say? There's no beach in Colorado? Surely there must be one or two. I mean, I never looked before because I was unaware of how glorious a beach can be, so there's probably one right up the street from my house and I just never noticed. Right? No? Huh. . . . New plan. Someone (Kim? Star?) put the puppies in a carryon and get your ass down here. And if you think of it, bring my cauliflower.

I'm back, bitches

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