December 24th

Christmas puppies

And I can’t even get Chloe to poop on the paper perfectly.

December 17th

Cutest ever puppy story

It’s that time of year folks.  Who can resist??

December 20th

I am not the only one who doesn’t like snow!

May 31st

Halfway there and Memorial Day memories, 2010

And suddenly I find myself in that weird age group called middle aged. Somewhere between this:

and this:
I still more or less feel like this:

So when that AARP thing came in the mail box I’m,  ”like who the fuck you mailing to, ME??  I don’t think so.”  But I particularly got to thinking this weekend (about age and such) when I should have been thinking things Memorial (which I did).

That being said,  I tried to have a minute of peace without dogs, or daughters, up at the Doral Arrowwood only to be interrupted by planes (every 15 minutes),  trains (joking) and fire alarms (yes at 1 in the AM I was standing in my sleeping jersey , a sweat shirt and shorts with ex-Yankee baseball player, Paul O’Neill- And I hate Yankees) because someone was smoking in a non-smoking room (so because of that I got $25 off my next stay, would you go?)  At  last today, I’m getting 5 minutes of peace and quiet at the pool and this lady who is in her golden years starts talking about her doctor’s appointments and her ailments and then starts burping and she says,  ”I hope its not my pancreas.”  And am like “give me the headsets to drown out the noise of Westchester.”  And after a moment I think,  “I hope its not her pancreas either.”

September 23rd


So, those of you who know me and love me. Or hate me, also know that I am a level 10 hypocondriate (10 being highest on a scale of 1-10). And no one anywhere can convince me otherwise, because despite all my many hours of shrinkage, and despite all my the sage advise on how to get rid of colds and flus, I am the worst patient. Ever. Which brings me to Bella. She’s been staying at her dad’s house (one of the few times he comes in handy), because, well, she just IS. And now, because it’s that time of year, she’s gotten yet ANOTHER cold. And so, of course, SHE WANTS TO COME HOME. (That coupled with the fact that he’s going out of town tomorrow, spells Trouble with a capital T).

This cold, however, did not stop her from partying all weekend long. Despite my attempts to get her to stay home and rest. So NOW she is really hacking and sneezing away and, on top of that, looks like shit warmed over, so yes, she is really and truly sick because of course Thursday, I have my first really big convention acting as a newly minted CEO. The stakes are high. Therefore, I have condemned Bell to keep to only two areas of our huge 700 square foot apartment–her room, and the bathroom. (Under threat of losing Facebook). To which she agreed. But someone else in our home thought the better of this, and decided, in her way to help with dirty tissue clean up. Anyone want a black poodle?

Another Chloe Story: Sometimes you just step in shit

Read more about Bella

September 12th

Stopped feeling sorry for myself

But still sadly virtually socializing away. Found this. Laughed. Then cried cause I’m still on the God Damn computer.

Auto Tuning from Casey Donahue on Vimeo.

September 11th


I wrote this last year, but being out of creative juices, feel it’s just as applicable today as it was then, even if the only other person in my office now that I am self employed is a fuzzy black toy poodle

We always must remember,
Must never forget,
The day 2976 died,
By the fires of jets.

Today was different,
Then most other years,
Today only families,
Shed their tears.

My office was busy,
No one spoke of the day.
It was business as usual,
People went on their way.

No silence was observed,
As the names were read,
The TV chattered to an empty room,
About our dead.

Did we really forget,
On this warm September night,
The thing that happened,
That caused us to fight?

It seemed that way,
And it shouldn’t be,
That around me NY,
Went on…quite merrily.

So I devote this post,
To all that perished,
Please know that forever,
Your memories are cherished.

And I guess that’s what makes,
New York go round,
That even when weeping,
You don’t hear the sound.
Because it’s still there,
That hole in the ground.
Where towers once blazed,
No peace will be found.

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