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


Peanut butter is trying to kill us again and I'm having flashbacks to my one serious bout of food poisoning. This may be the only time I've EVER been glad that there isn't a Trader Joe's around (a fact that will soon be remedied, thank goodness, even if they are putting their liquor store down in Cherry Creek instead of in Boulder like they should). Speaking of poison, Crockett and I have been joking that our house is poisoning us for some time now because we haven't been sleeping very well and Cloey has been indulging in quite a bit of puking (thanks, Clo! Because dog hair seems inconsequential when compared to dog puke!), and I'm starting to think it's true. Although Maida, the smallest member of the household, is fine, and I suspect any actual poison would get her first, right? Because she's tiny and also because she eats everything that she stumbles across? (That includes all the things that I put between her teeth while she's yawning, because it amuses me when she closes her mouth on something and then goes 'hm, well since it's already there' and just eats it.)

Maybe we're on an old graveyard or something and the spirits just finally got tired of us. Or maybe I'm just so excited about Trader Joe's that I can't sleep. One of those two things is definitely true.


ok, have some damn candy

well THAT'S unappealing