We all know that what matters most is how well you walk through the fire...

Hello darkness my old friend,

Inspired by recent occurrences, it has been decided to resurrect our blog. Which only leads me to ponder: it’s strange the people and places life takes us to. Let us journey shall we? Let us explore the unpredictability of a day in the life of…

Sure. Orange juice and tequila seem like staple liquids at any given drunken get together, but when the combination turns into a fashion statement—forget your shoes, forget the bag; just grab the keys and GO. Drive away from the sensible law abiding screamers atop porches playing beer pong, winning and losing.

Such a night is a night like no other. A rarity.

And there she was that day, with a morning that compelled her to do one thing—with determination, with soul, with style. To drink was her goal; and admirably she did from the early hours of the morn till the slowing minutes of the eve. But amidst the shots and chasers were the chugging of brewskies.

So there she stood, among the men. One of which there’s…a history. An ambiguous affair as predictable as New England weather. Clearly the objective: to play it cool. This day of days however, had something else in store. For after she chugged that beer, like she had many times before, she turned to her interest with words of lust, only instead to drench him in the brightest orange-vom combination of alcohol.

Without a word or belonging or second to spare she shuffled for her keys and smoothly but with speed walked to her car and drove off. She only anticipated being gone for an hour or so to freshen up accordingly. But on days such as these, when she got home, she was staying home.

Alas, when she awoke, her phone was clouded with faded recollections of the nights past events along with written reminders from…concerned lovers. Such insights included:

Are you alive?
Did you get a dui?
…thanks for the puke t-shirt…


.end scene.

I offer this so that you too can share those rare, unforgiving days—perhaps a challenge to the brave…

Liberation follows the aftermath.

An ode to things that live:

Taking into consideration the results of our most recent poll survey, it has been decided that there is more of a likeness towards dogs as well as various water life. Although I might have voted twice, I do agree with the fact that both categories are worth exploring further. For example:

Shark week is upon us…hoorah. Nothing do I love more than to be told the tales of freak shark attacks, which are apparently rare. Nonetheless and disregarding my fear of all that is ocean past my waist, I am strangely drawn to the education that shark week so generously brings us. For just earlier I gained a new found appreciation towards tiger sharks—mere gentle giants of the deep blue.

and so I ask, my friends:

what is it that television is teaching you?

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And for those that love our canine counterparts…

I offer

a

story:

so work has a tendency to drain the soul of much needed energy—as I am quickly finding out in my journey through retail slavery. In any case, I come home from a long day of workin for the man, and oh so clearly “in a mood”. Yet as I walk up the steps to the door, what do I notice: a very unattractive and borderline startling stuffed animal that mostly resembles that of a porcupine. And it was none other than a beloved toy for the dogs. I know this because the “babies” as we so dearly refer to them as, enjoy taking many of their toys on each nightly walk. The stuffed porcupine was staged right outside the closed door, perhaps dropped in transition from out to in.

surely this is not dissimilar to the photo I captured above that best represents such a unique animal personality.

I would love to hear other stories of pet personalities or even attitudes towards other living things.

please do share.

*just as a side note about the above picture: when my father was asked about how he feels walking such bold and carefree dogs, he explained that onlookers laugh at the babies because they love to bring toys with them.

…joke’s on you douchebags.

…im thinking—Christmas pic, for suuure.

On City Life and Structure

Is it harder to find beauty within the confines of metropolitan dependence? Or so this thought occurred to me as I sat overlooking the ocean and all its mysteries; the moon was nearly full and the stars were seldom. The atmosphere of night, however, was unusually slate blue with pulsating glowish undertones—this my friends, was attributed to the large and luxurious water front hotel franchise as it imposed its harsh and unnatural light onto the beach. The apparatus that was responsible was secured atop the multi-story complex; it even went so far as to blend in with the moonlight and therefore disrupting the natural order of things.

So there Ally and I sat, piecing together a trapped ocean under the persecution from the most severe and police looking search lights. The moon and its almost grand nature was no longer a beacon symbolic of eternity and change, but rather was shrunk down to equate the reflection of a small candle flame. The glow was meager at best. The tragedy arose from the hotel and its searchlights that were strategically directed onto the water and its crashing ocean sounds, almost as if omitting a perfect moon shadow year round, regardless of its purposeful phases. Surely the artificial moon light is ideal for the hotel’s seasonal guests in search of the most authentic places to vacation.
How lovely.

First and For Most

Welcome!

As you can see were just beginning. Our decision to write a blog started with a few insane nights. Our adventures and thoughts need to be shared with the world. Feel free to comment on anything and everything.