two runners
Can’t stop won’t stop forgot how to stop

Despite the fact that I know that it’s all been done, that they’re all trite contrivances doomed to failure, I still find myself making photos out walking in the street. I suppose that’s a sign I’m doing something right?
I was this close to putting this in black and white, but that red exit sign makes it.
I don’t know why the word ‘floffee’ came to describe the coffee runs we make in the afternoon, or why there’s an l in there. Fletch, who coined the term, claims it means “fancy coffee,” because we’ve been going to this tiny hole in the wall on maiden lane instead of the pete’s down on mission. Anyway, there’s a natural lull in the day, when the food from lunch is really solidly digesting, and 6pm (my office is 9-6, don’t get me started) seems like forever from now, so we generally get up and stretch at least, and usually someone will suggest coffee, and the rest of us will say hells yeah. We come out of the mental fog for a couple minutes, and then back to work.
A sizable portion of this blogs readers come here just for cute photos of my wife. Who am I to argue?