“Do you read Red’s Wrap?”

“Yeah, but lately she’s been wearing me out with all the death talk.”

“I hear you. I think she skews old.”

“No kidding! ‘Dogs I owned 30 years ago, guys I met 30 years ago, clothes I still have that I bought 30 years ago.’ It’s wearing thin.”

“Actually, I liked her better when she was doing fashion commentary.”

“When was that? It must have been before I was following her. Now it’s all Boo-Hoo Betty, Angst Anna, Hopeless….”

“Stop. I get it. I’m sticking with her though. I think she just had some things to work out. You know, like how to be an old broad who can’t hear shit. I don’t exactly relate but I get that it must be a major pain in the ass. I went to Paris once and they were all speaking French. Rough time.”

“Well, it says right here that Red’s Wrap’s done with the wallowing. She’s saying that she just rose out of the muck of misery and grabbed a clean towel out of the laundry basket. So I guess it’s a new day.”

“Maybe. We’ll see. Does this mean I should stop printing out her blog posts and mailing them to my mother?”

“Nah. Your mom’s probably hooked on Red’s Wrap by now and you know she loves mail.”