<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013</id><updated>2011-07-08T07:11:57.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All You Need Is Love.</title><subtitle type='html'>Love, love. Love is all you need.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6625453184252479951</id><published>2009-03-26T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T00:02:45.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Escaping Gravity</title><content type='html'>Have people heard the Palcebo song Special K?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't specifically remember when I heard it first but it's a good song. One of those songs that you listen to, but you never want to admit it because the bend is a bit corny. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway Special K is exactly what love feels like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6625453184252479951?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6625453184252479951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6625453184252479951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6625453184252479951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6625453184252479951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-escaping-gravity.html' title='No Escaping Gravity'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2666184313765100577</id><published>2009-01-22T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T20:16:06.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One To Make You Yawn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ok, start with the basics, whats your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mariea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;age&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;18 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;gender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;female&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;shoe size&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;38 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;height&lt;br /&gt;158 cm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;eye colour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;green &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hair colour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;black &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ok these ones are all your favourite things, starting with colour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;green &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;sashimi maybe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hair style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;men with long hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;jelly bean flavour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;never liked jelly beans &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;website &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;wikipedia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;number&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;4 and 17 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;item on clothing (descriptions are better than just 'my T-shirt')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;scarves, since I own about 30 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;moving on again now, pepsi or coke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Pepsi, but I wouldn't drink either, unless I was having Scotch and coke. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;chocolate or vanilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;chocolate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;tv or books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;books &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;staying in or going out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;going out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;friends or family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;how can you possibly choose--you like your friends because. You like your family although&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;myspace or facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Facebook but they are both shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;nail polish or natural (guys just say if you like girls to wear it or not)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;nail polish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;art or sports&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;art&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;past or future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;past because it is the only thing you have to learn from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;left or right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;odd socks or matching ones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;matching but mine are always odd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;tea, coffee or neither&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Coffee, black with no milk an no sugar. Real coffee drinkers don't need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hot or cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;fly or fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;they are the same thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;run or ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;run&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;sing or scream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;scream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;watch or join in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;watch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;dance or laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;laugh at the people dancing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;just pick one now, continent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Europe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;type of sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;bittersweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;girls name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Grettel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;boys name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Hansel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;fizzy drink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Fanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;what makes you? happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Achieving something I have worked for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;When people turn out not to be the people you thought they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;giggley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;4 beers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;obnoxious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;5 beers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;sleepy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;8 beers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hungry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Colin Farrell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;empty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the news&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;indifferent people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;bouncy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;mature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;experience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;immature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;immature people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the right crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the wrong crowd, or someone I actually like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;next, describe your dream person starting with gender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;male&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;eye colour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hazel or yellow or green. But actually, they just have to have sexy eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;height&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;180 cm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hair colour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;smart or sassy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Both. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;droop dead gorgeous or stomach crampingly funny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;They need to be hot and they need to have a dry, witty sense of humour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;give three other qualities they would need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Trustworthy, genuine and interesting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;are you single&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;absolutely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;do you drink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;what do you think about smokers, or say if you do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I smoked for a long time and now I am quitting and have nothing against them. I would still prefer to date a smoker than someone that never does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ever punched someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;No. Physical violence is never the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what word or phrase do you use wayy too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"No"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;got a mobile?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;tell me something no one knows about you (dont worry i probably dont know you)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't really like wine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what job do you want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;one that makes me $70000 a year by the time I am 25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;where are you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Melbourne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;wearing any jewellery (say what)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;silver necklace with red jewels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;which part of your body hurt last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;do you know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I knicked it while sharpening a knife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;would you kill someone to save someone you truly love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Only out of defense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;are you spontaneous?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Not by nature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if you had a choice how would you want to die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Painlessly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;what would you want on your grave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Never thought about it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;what would your last words be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Last words are for people who haven't said enough already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if you could hug anyone right now who would it be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;James&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;are you alergic to anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Eggs make me vomit, but I don't know if that means I am allergic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;where would you take someone, on a first date&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Just for a drink because dates are always so awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to break up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to the scene of the crime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to propose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am never proposing to anyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to apologise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Wherevever I was when I realized I was sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to say 'i love you' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Somewhere private&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if you had three wishes what would you wish for? (in the next three boxes) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Success&lt;br /&gt;wish 2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Health to all the people I care about&lt;br /&gt;wish 3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and a round of drinks for everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;if you could do one thing for the world what would it be (ANYTHIING) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Be a man, just for ten minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;when have you been the happiest so far in your life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;August 2006. Maybe August 2008... and christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;when do you think you will be that happy again &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Very soon. Everything is fine in 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;when will you be happier &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;When I find something I want to work toward and I earn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why did you take this quiz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;because I am bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;how long did this take you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I didn't check&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;would you do it again if you knew how long it was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;say something to make me think &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;No one can make you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2666184313765100577?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2666184313765100577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2666184313765100577' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2666184313765100577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2666184313765100577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-to-make-you-yawn.html' title='One To Make You Yawn'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-293776379506939448</id><published>2009-01-22T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T20:51:02.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Success Success</title><content type='html'>I know we are not even one month into 2009, but I have a good feeling that this year I will accomplish more than I have any other year thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      And that is because this is the year that I have found the true meaning of career-related success, which is do something that pays well enough for you to live comfortably, that you both enjoy and are good at. I also know what the formula for success at anything is: know what you are doing, love what you are doing and believe in what you are doing.      &lt;br /&gt;      Being Capricorn, I am stubborn and highly ambitious.  There is nothing I will not do when I want something badly enough. Basically, if I don't succeed, fuck me dead.&lt;br /&gt;     You will not find one person who ever did anything great that didn't care if they succeeded or not. They were all willing to work hard, work overtime, fall and get back up again, and again and again. And they didn't complain. They didn't even mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-293776379506939448?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/293776379506939448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=293776379506939448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/293776379506939448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/293776379506939448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2009/01/success-success.html' title='Success Success'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6773748463494136893</id><published>2008-12-14T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T20:24:37.224-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottoms Up!</title><content type='html'>"We changed the specials, Jade, so can you change the board?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, because all the waitstaff each have two broken hands and thus can't do it?" Jade retorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jade, seriously, just do it." Helena said dismissively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade rolled her eyes, because that's what she does when Helena tells her what to do. As soon as she began to clean the board, Jared walked in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Jade!" he said, in a tone Jade deemed somewhat overly enthusiastic. "How are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine," Jade grunted without looking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're cheerful today, aren't we?" he said, stung by her apparent lack of friendliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade looked up at him just long enough to roll her eyes in disapproval, then continued with what she was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared walked into the bar and said to Helena, "My, your sister must have had a large bowl of bitchy for breakfast this morning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Jared, don't take it personally. It's just her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;teen aged&lt;/span&gt; angst coming out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but why take it out on me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, Jared, you have a penis."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Clearly all men are the enemy of her universe..." he muttered as he walked off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where the fuck is Jeff?" Helena said, annoyed at his perpetual tardiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as she uttered the last breath of her sentence, Jeff swung his fat ass through the door. "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Heyyyyhowareyaaaaaa&lt;/span&gt;?" he groaned as if it was one long word. "Can I have a drink, Helena?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the fuck, Jeff?" Helena snapped. "It's not even 11 am! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Pino&lt;/span&gt; will have my balls if he found out I'm letting you drink at this time." &lt;em&gt;or anytime while you're working for that matter! &lt;/em&gt;she thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A look of sheer disappointment, dare I say sadness, crossed Jeff''s bloodshot, ever-hungover face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; fine," Helena reluctantly gave in, more because she was at a loss as to what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Pino&lt;/span&gt;, one of the owners, had promised to put an add in the newspaper for a new chef, but as with most of his promises, there was little hope of it ever happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't cash my check that fucking-cunt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Pino&lt;/span&gt; gave me." Jeff ranted with one hand in his crotch and a beer in the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade sat down on the kitchen bench because she knew he'd be talking a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sick of working for him. There's no gratitude for all the work that I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But imagine how much you've &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;cost&lt;/span&gt; him in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;alcohol&lt;/span&gt; by now &lt;/em&gt;Jade thought to herself, but she knew better than to say anything. She tuned out for a while but was rudely jerked back to reality when Jeff yelled,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's just bullshit!" and threw an egg at the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade's eyes widened as she watched it running down the wall. She knew she would have to clean it up eventually if not now, so she went to the bar to "get a rag", code for "I am telling Helena about this."&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon it was time for lunch. Jade sat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;down at&lt;/span&gt; the window table with her calamari salad and short black coffee, no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;sugar&lt;/span&gt;, as she always did. Then she got out her black journal and began to write.&lt;br /&gt;     "Can I join you?" Jared asked cheerfully.&lt;br /&gt;     "If you want," Jade replied curtly, without looking up.&lt;br /&gt;     "Shall I take your lack of enthusiasm as a sign that you don't want me to sit here, or your consent as a compliment?" he mused.&lt;br /&gt;     "Whatever you like," Jade mumbled, still looking at the page.&lt;br /&gt;     "What does, 'whatever you like' mean, exactly?"&lt;br /&gt;     "It means whatever you like," Jade was secretly amused by his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;persistence&lt;/span&gt;. "Look, what I mean to say is, you can sit here if you want. If a vacant chair is what you are looking for, then congratulations Jared, you have come to the right place."  Jade said in a voice of mock enthusiasm. "But if what you want is someone who is dying to sit with you, then maybe you should move somewhere else."&lt;br /&gt;     Jared was taken aback by that remark, which had come out of left field and cut him to the heart.  &lt;em&gt;How can I be so intrigued by someone so rude? &lt;/em&gt;he thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Much to everyone's surprise, it was a busy night at the Miscellaneous Mansion. Unfortunately, Jeff was busy getting shit-faced on the Scotch, and by the time orders were coming in for meals, he was already drunk, standing at the bar, drinking with the customers.&lt;br /&gt;     Helena, reluctant to confront him about his behavior with one of the owners present, went with Anne, the other waitress, into the kitchen and  cooked the meals.&lt;br /&gt;     Helena also took the oppurtunity to speak to the other owner, Ange, about the situation. He assured her something would be done about it.&lt;br /&gt;    Jeff poured the customers double-shots of whisky "on the house" while Jade watched in helpless horror. He started blindly into his glass, looking as though he was about to vomit.&lt;br /&gt;     Finally, things died down and all the was left was cleaning the pub down and locking up. Anne decided to make herself a chicken schnitzel with potato wedges. She sat down to eat while Jeff was having a drink.&lt;br /&gt;     "Can I have a bit of your chicken?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;     "Ok," Anne replied timidly, too afraid to say no. "Shall I get you a knife and fork?"&lt;br /&gt;     "No, that's ok," he said. To Anne's utter disgust, he took the whole chicken fillet off her plate with his hands and bit into it.&lt;br /&gt;     Anne ate her wedges, not even looking at her chicken for fear she would lose her appetite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6773748463494136893?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6773748463494136893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6773748463494136893' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6773748463494136893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6773748463494136893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/12/bottoms-up.html' title='Bottoms Up!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-269844069179695779</id><published>2008-11-14T20:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:42:50.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Work and Crack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Helena&lt;/span&gt; (said like Elaina with a H) was at the train station in the city waiting to pick Jade up. They went to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;coffee&lt;/span&gt; shop with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;outside&lt;/span&gt; tables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Two ice-coffees please" Helena said. When she and Jade went out, Helena always ordered, and sometimes even told Jade what to get. Not that Jade minded, because, being a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; manger herself, Helena knew exactly what she wanted and how to be served. It was the plus-side of her nurturing, motherly nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, how was the trip?" Helena asked as she lit a cigarette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great, " Jade said as she took the lighter from her sister. "I'm so tired now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you get wasted?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Helena, it was New Year,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you hook up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Again , it was New Year!" Jade was notoriously private, so she felt uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, I am just asking because you have a huge hickey on your neck!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, so what did you do for New Year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, well, Gavin called me from Hawaii, so we got to talk. I went out New Years' Eve with Anne and Dora for drinks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade laughed. Helena was (and fuck, did she like to rub it in) a completely self-made woman. She had earned everything she owned, she made good wage and prided herself in being a lot more mature than most people her age. It was undoubtedly true, and consequently, most of her friends were older. Anne and Dora were each about 45.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tonight we'll stay at home and tomorrow I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;picking Gavin up from the airport. Then I will get you and we will stay the night at his place. The next day, the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of January, is out first day of work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. Who is gonna work for Amalia until she comes back from Brazil?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I didn't tell you!" Helena exclaimed with wide eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you did not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Do you remember that guy who came in for a with his mates? You know, he lives directly across the street?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, him!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong with him, don't you think he's hot? I thought he would be your type!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never said he's not hot. But he's rude. I was talking to Amalia and said something along the lines of Irish guys with dark hair being the sexist people ever, and he actually interrupted to say that no, I was wrong, and Indians are some of the best-looking people in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And that bothered you because...?" Helena prodded with a raised eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I wasn't talking to him, I don't even know who he is and he interrupted our conversation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You already don't like him and he is gonna b working every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;signle&lt;/span&gt; day. Good luck."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah well he's rude."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*****&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Helena and Jade were on Gavin's doorstep. After ringing the doorbell and getting no answer, Helena called him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Babe, sorry to wake you up. We're outside. Can you let us in?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A sleepy Gavin opened the door and greeted Helena with an icky smooch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;They went into the house and watched TV for a while. Gavin had his hand in Helena's lap and to Jade it was just enough cheesy affection to make things uncomfortable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Excuse me Gavin, do you mind if I go upstairs to use the Internet?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Oh, not yet Jade. Don't be silly. I'm about to roll a joint. Do you want some?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Okay,"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*****&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Jade went to use the computer, stoned. She watched a documentary about Kurt Cobain on YouTube and saw different videos of him being interviewed, The Beatles and the Smashing Pumpkins. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What wouldn't I give to have been a teenager in the early 90's when it was all about grunge and flannel and holey jeans. I am so ashamed of my generation music ally. I think it all goes back to Green Day. I really hold it against them, because although in themselves they were not that bad a band, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ecause&lt;/span&gt; of them we have Fallout Boy, Good Charlotte and Sum 41, which all suck, so I hold them responsible. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Around 4 am it was time for bed. Jade removed her eyeliner and went to the guestroom where she slept on the beautiful king-sized bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*****&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In the morning Helena woke Jade and they went outside for a cigarette and downloaded music, and then it was time to get ready for work. Jade showered first, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;beause&lt;/span&gt; her make up took longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She drew her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;eyebows&lt;/span&gt;, put on her winged eyeliner with a liquid eyeliner pen and lashings of mascara. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Helena's was more natural. She filled in her eyebrows, added a touch of blush to her cheekbones and wore a natural shade of lipstick. "How do you get your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;eyeborws&lt;/span&gt; so perfectly Jade?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"I just pluck the strays whenever they show up."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"I don't have time for that,"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Yet, you want perfect eyebrows..." Jade rolled her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;*****&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The Miscellaneous Mansion was a pub and for those who don't know what pubs are, it's a casual bar where cheap meals are sold. There was also a more fine-dining side with white tablecloths. Allegedly, the place was once very busy, popular and had an excellent rputation for some of the finest seafood in the city. You would never have guessed it by the way it was now though. New owners had been it's downfall, and the place often went through a whole lunch service without selling a single meal in either the bar or te restaurant.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Helena opened the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; door and turned off the alarm then headed to the coffee machine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Jade what are you having?" she called over to her sister, who was by now sitting at the staff table. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "An epresso, thanks."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "With sugar?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "No," Jade replied. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     It was a bit of a ritual for Jade to contemplate life over coffee and a cigarette. One was never as good without the other. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     The bar door swung open and a very tall, very large unkempt man walked in. It was Jeff, the chef (sorry about the rhyme--there is just no other way to say it.) Jeff was 27, but he looked closer to 35 because his long-time addiction to alcohal had taken its toll on his face. He had large, bloodshot blue eyes and pale, pasty skin. There was something unpleasant about him, or perhaps many things, a few of them being that his breath constantly smelled of whisky, his long blond ponytail was always greasy and rather than his chef's pants and jacket, he preffered tracksuit pants that revealed three inches of his buttcrack and thin T-shirts that did little to hide his offensively large manboobs. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Hey Helena, Jade," He said with a sleepy nod.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Jeff! How are you?" Helena asked cheerfully.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Alright I guess, a little hungover."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Sorry to hear it. Would you like a coffee?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Sure, I'll have a latte with one sugar, thanks."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Jade decided to go to the petrol station across the road and buy some credit for her phone. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;      When she returned, she saw a young man standing behind the bar, and she knew it was the new worker. &lt;em&gt;Helena and Jeff must have already started...&lt;/em&gt; She looked him over from a distance. His hair was a very dark brown, his skin was a very light shade of olive and he had very piercing eyes. &lt;em&gt;Holy shit&lt;/em&gt; she thought to herself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Hi, I'm Jared." he said&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Hi Jared" she said awkwardly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"And what's your name?" he asked with an amused grin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Oh, sorry, um, it's Jade."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Pleased to meet you Jade," he said, shaking he hand. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"So Jared, how old are you?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"23, and yourself?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"17"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;There was a bit of a silence and the Jade said, "Well, I should get to work now." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Jeff was cutting steaks at the kitchen bench and asked Jade if she wold mind to light the stove. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Got a lighter?" she asked him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"In my pocket," he said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Jade had just started working here and she couldn't say she didn't want to reach into his filthy pocket, so she braced herself. She knew it wouldn't be pleasant.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Helena the came into the kitchen. "How are you my little worker ant?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Fine," Jade mumbled with a roll of her eyes. She hated when Helena addresse her that way. &lt;em&gt;It's so patronizing &lt;/em&gt;she thought.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Jeff, do you mind if I borrow her to go to the supermarket to get some soft drinks?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Go for it," Jeff replied.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Going to the store for soft drinks was something Jade normally detested, and today was no exception. &lt;em&gt;Walking in the sun with bags so heavy your arms might break off you shoulders, or worse yet, the bags might break under the weight or their contents, weirdly, is not my idea of of fun. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Jared will go with you," Helena said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Jade went into the bar where she saw Jared getting $50 out of the till. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Let's go," he said as he held the bar door for Jade, and she rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, would you mind to carry this?" he asked, waving the money. "I don't want to lose it,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "What make you think I won't lose it?" Jade countered, but she took it and put it in her blazer pocket anyway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     They walked passed a laneway and Jared said, "If we go through the laneway it's faster,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "It actually makes no difference, but yeah..." Jade said as she lit a cigarette. "Would you like one?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "No thank you, I don't smoke and you shouldn't either."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     She chose to ignore that remark since she wanted to be polite and she found it too dumb to be worthy of a proper rebuttal anyway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "So, you like Nirvana?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "I do, yes, they're my favourite band. How did you know?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Um, you're wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and yo mentioned them last time when we met."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Yeah. Did we &lt;em&gt;meet &lt;/em&gt;exactly, or did we just happen to be at the bar at the same time?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Well, I did introduce you my name," &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Then how did you not know mine today?" Jade wanted it to be that they had not met and save herself the embarassment of forgetting his name.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "No, you didn't tell me,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Sorry, I am bad with names," she explained.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Anyway, about Nirvana, what would you say is their best album?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "I think &lt;em&gt;Incesticide&lt;/em&gt;, but most people say &lt;em&gt;In Utero &lt;/em&gt;is better," &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Really?" Jared raised his eyebrows. "I quite like the unplugged album. &lt;em&gt;Oh Me&lt;/em&gt; is a vey good song,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "Yeah Nirvana's cover is better than the orginal."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "It is, and &lt;em&gt;The Man Who Sold the World &lt;/em&gt;is another one they covered very well. It may even be their best song," &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;    "I know it's my favourite right now. And what kind of music do you like?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Queens of the Stone Age are probably my favourite at the moment," &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;      The talk was all about music all the way there and all the way back. Jared and Jade had similar tastes and shared an appreciation for classics such as the Beatles, The Doors and Led Zeppelin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     It was one of those uneventful lunches and so the kitchen closed early and the staff ordered meals for themselves. Jade sat at a table by the window with her calamari salad and she saw Jared approaching. "Do you mind if I sit here?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "Go ahead,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Jared commented on Jade's American accent and she explained she and Helena had grown up in Japan. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     "You're just like this girl I knew in Brisbane. Her family is overseas too," &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     Jade could tell by the way his eyes changed when he mentioned her, that he had felt for her once. Being likened to an old flame felt a bit odd, seeing as they had just met, but she didn't know what his intentions were. What she did know, though, was that work was gonna be a lot more entertaining with a hot guy around.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;      &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;     &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-269844069179695779?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/269844069179695779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=269844069179695779' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/269844069179695779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/269844069179695779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/11/1-work-and-crack.html' title='1 Work and Crack'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5830199655608661700</id><published>2008-11-08T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T19:53:19.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OK</title><content type='html'>Ok, guys I wrote the first page of the (boring) story, which is still Untitled. I couldn't get it to sit at the top for some reason, so if you want to read it, scroll down and wait till you see a post called "The Grind".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be mean with your comments, I think it sucks too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5830199655608661700?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5830199655608661700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5830199655608661700' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5830199655608661700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5830199655608661700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/11/ok.html' title='OK'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6605852429805376958</id><published>2008-10-26T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T20:23:25.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's A Thought (Not Really)</title><content type='html'>OK, here's something I realized the other night. A woman's heart can be likened to a man's balls; they want you to touch it, but gently, as they are very very sensitive and not that sexy either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that what I just said does not make a whole lot of sense, but I just don't like balls a great deal. I prefer to pretend that they are not there (kind of like guys seem to pretend you--and they-- are void of emotions.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my uncle and aunt just had their 25 years of marriage anniversy. Yeah I know, they deserve to be congratulated. They were celevrating and my uncle said, during a speech, something that hinted what would be "on the menu" for his wife that night. I , his niece, and all my cousins, his kids, had to hear it. Yuk. Another thing I like to pretend is that all people over the age of... 38... do not have sex. I know it isn't true, but I still like to think so, and they probably like turning a blind eye to me, and the rest of the younger genereation and the fact that some of us do have sex, or whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6605852429805376958?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6605852429805376958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6605852429805376958' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6605852429805376958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6605852429805376958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/10/heres-thought-not-really.html' title='Here&apos;s A Thought (Not Really)'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1393363469640827760</id><published>2008-09-06T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T21:45:45.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All This Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Soemone sent me this sheet full of very deep questions, which I had trouble answering because they freak me out because they do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something you say a lot that you tend to regret &lt;/strong&gt;"Yes,", "No," and "No thank you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The one thing you said that you regret the most &lt;/strong&gt;"If it suits you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the least? &lt;/strong&gt;"I'm not asking you to change"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there anyone outside your personal family that you actually love? &lt;/strong&gt;A few&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have ever been in love? &lt;/strong&gt;Not by my definition of the term, no. And if I do fall in love, I want it to be very special, so I try to use the term sparingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever had a broken heart? &lt;/strong&gt;Of course. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Would you rather a broken heart or a broken wrist? &lt;/strong&gt;Wrist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever broken someone's heart? &lt;/strong&gt;Oh he would tell you so, but he's lying, because he broke his own heart by becoming attracted to me when I tried to stop him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you most afraid of? &lt;/strong&gt;Being vulnerable, being rejected and not being there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you want the most? &lt;/strong&gt;Success. I should add here, before I sound callous and unfeeling, that my idea of success is having meaningful friendships and a job that pays enough to give me a comfortable lifestyle, but that I also enjoy and am good at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have ever loved someone so much that it made you cry? &lt;/strong&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the best thing a man could do to make you happy? &lt;/strong&gt;I don't know... it matters who the man is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the worst thing he could do? &lt;/strong&gt;Snoop through my things or phone. It doesn't matter if it's my cousin, my dad, my brother, a boyfriend. It's wrong and I will never trust them again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Would you dump someone if they went through your phone/emails? &lt;/strong&gt;Absolutely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you believe in love at first sight? &lt;/strong&gt;I do not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there a "one" for everyone? &lt;/strong&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is being in love overrated? &lt;/strong&gt;I am not sure. I think a lot of poeple say that they are in love, when they really just have a crush, but that makes crushes overrate, not being in love. But then again, some people are not content until they are in love, or they feel like there life is not complete until they are in love with someone. In the case of being in love being used as a way of measuring success, then I would have to say that, yeah, it might be a bit overrated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is sex overrated? &lt;/strong&gt;Now, sex is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you realize you love someone, do you tell them? &lt;/strong&gt;Not usually. I have only loved one person in "that" way, and I never told him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you in love with one of your friends? &lt;/strong&gt;Yes and like I said I never told him, and to this day, I believe he does not know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you want do find The One? &lt;/strong&gt;I am not sure. Honestly, I am afraid that when I find him if I ever do, that I am going to throw caution into the wind and lose control over my emtions and be truly vulnerable. Maybe I don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1393363469640827760?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1393363469640827760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1393363469640827760' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1393363469640827760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1393363469640827760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/09/all-this-stuff.html' title='All This Stuff'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7965585205993541077</id><published>2008-09-06T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T21:09:25.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Postponement</title><content type='html'>Hi again Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;The story will not start as soon as I expected. It will be boring and writing it is a headache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7965585205993541077?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7965585205993541077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7965585205993541077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7965585205993541077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7965585205993541077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/09/postponement.html' title='Postponement'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4599193045083556877</id><published>2008-09-06T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T19:50:20.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1 The Grind</title><content type='html'>Jade had spent the Christmas holidays with her cousin Jenny and some of their friends. They went boating, swimming and soaked up the sun. New Year's Eve was a blast. They partied, smoked it up, drank too much, and slept off their hangovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had hooked up in a yacht on the lakeside with one of the guys, Nick, who planned to join the army. There seemed to be a mutual understanding that it was what it was and they would never see eachother again. It was out of character for Jade, but then again, it was New Year, and she was not one to try to make something out of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to her uncle and aunt's house, Jenny kept insisting that Jade tell her where she had gotten the hickey on her neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's the 2nd of January, I don't remember." she said lamely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not an answer," Jenny persisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a 2nd-of-January answer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny's Dad put on a mix of his favourite songs. Musically, his taste was not that bad--he liked Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and the Eagles, all the old school stuff. Secretly, Jade had always looked fondly upon previous generations, musically and otherwise. Of course, she wasn't there, but maybe that's what she found so appealing about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The world is just getting worse all the time, and no one seems to understand that. Like those ignorant people who say every day is getting better--are they naive, or are they just not willing to admit that things are alwas getting harder? Actually, it's also possible that they have found a secret that I don't know and every day really does improve their life. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People mostly knew Jade as a wild, hard-partying, angst-ridden teenager, but what only those close to her knew was that she thought a lot about everything. There were so many unanswered questions she had about life, such as "What am I on this earth to do?", "Can one person really change the world?" and "How come I don't look like Kate Moss?" Before the answer came to her regarding any of these questions, the car pulled up in her Aunt's driveway and came to a stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The country house smelled of barbecue and loud laughter could be heard coming from inside the house. It was Jenny's sister Adriana's 20th birthday and she had invited some friends over for a small-scale party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How are ya, gorgeous?" Adriana said, hugging Jade. "This is my boyfriend, Drew."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drew was tall, heavy-set, pasty-skinned and and small, dark eyes and hair. He looked like a country thug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was Benny, Drew's best mate, and his girlfriend Jay. He was a chubby brown-haired guy and she was a tanned, blonde, blue-eyed knockout. They were a vulgar bunch after a few beers, and not surprisingly, Jade fit right in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I heard anal sex is really big in Japan," Jay remarked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Iwouldn't know," Jade replied. "Personally, I would never do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aw why not?" Drew said jokingly. "What good's a chick who won't take it up the backdoor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it's just not natural, it's a dirty practice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can shower though!" Benny chimed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But it's never clean enough. I mean, imagine you were doing your function and it crawled back up, you know? It can't feel good!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys laughed boistrously, but the girls didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There was a pause in the conversation, and Jade's grandmother aproached and said, "Jade, how are you, beautiful girl?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I'm good, Nonna, thank you,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Come on bella, have something to eat before it gets cold. Come on children." She said to the group as she turned to leave.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Drew shook his head and said, "Just how is it that you can be so wild while your grandmother thinks your some kind of a saint?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I never thought about it," Jade replied. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;*****&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Jade and her cousins had had a pleasant time together, but now it was time to go back to work, back to the city. Jenny and Adriana's oldest brother Christopher generously offered to drive her to the station. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A two-hour train ride and one's night's sleep away, and it would be back to the grind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4599193045083556877?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4599193045083556877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4599193045083556877' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4599193045083556877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4599193045083556877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/09/1-grind.html' title='1 The Grind'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4926389764407627890</id><published>2008-09-04T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T19:27:03.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Guys</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all I would like make some excuses for not posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out of a job and had to look for another (Job found. Job sucks.) It was a hard choice between sticking it out and ending up sleeping in the street, but since adulthood is about doing the things we know we have to (and is thus the reason I don't want to grow up), I believe I have made the right choice. I am also currently looking for a job I enjoy more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is another reason that I am not ready to make public just yet. (But I may tell some of you girls privately).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who did give an opinion about the story, and would like to announce that it will be really boring, but I decided to go ahead with it, since I am guessing some of you may not have much better to do with your time. (I'm joking.) The first posting will be on Sunday, which means I have to think of something better to call it. (I am thinking about going with "Untitled")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as Patty requested, it will be twice weekly, provided I never end up with two broken hands or a good excuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4926389764407627890?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4926389764407627890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4926389764407627890' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4926389764407627890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4926389764407627890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/09/thanks-guys.html' title='Thanks Guys'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-852574101491791048</id><published>2008-08-07T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T23:20:33.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opinions Please</title><content type='html'>What would everybody think if I wrote a story divided into page-length chapters and posted it weekly/twice weekly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opions carrying weight: Mary Jane, Amanda, Christian, Kenny, Sunny, Patty. (Since they are the only people who I know for a fact read my blog on a regular basis.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-852574101491791048?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/852574101491791048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=852574101491791048' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/852574101491791048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/852574101491791048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/08/opinions-please.html' title='Opinions Please'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-63828543419770269</id><published>2008-07-18T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T23:37:29.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Underrated Singledom</title><content type='html'>I am sick and tired of people asking me asking me if I have a boyfriend. And I am sick of hearing their reactions when I say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"How come?????" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a bit easy. I am 17. The focus in my life is actually on finding out what I am good at and developing talents that will give me a good career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Well, I hope you find the right guy soon." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you serious? What do people hope that for? "Find a boyfriend or die" has never been my motto, and the "better dead than single" kind of attitude doesn't appeal to me at all either.&lt;br /&gt;    I know a lot of girls with boyfriends. They all have something I don't have, which is a boyfriend. But I have something they don't have, which is freedom. I can sleep wherever I like whenever I like, I can call whoever and give whoever my number, I don't need to worry about hating his mates and their beer-breath, I can buy what I want and go shopping without a doofus who hates shopping on my arm and when I dye my hair, or pierce a body part, I am not offending anyone and I don't need their permission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for some reason, if I ever share this opinion with these people they look at me, shocked and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'But don't you think you would like the company?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. I don't. I have friends. They don't expect me to cook for them, return their calls or do things with the lights off--or on--if I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all these teen aged single girls that feel like an incomplete person unless they are in a relationship are missing the point. Guys that want a girlfriends to settle with a off-putting in my eyes. There is nothing sexy about and Emotional Desperado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It almost pains me when I am attracted to someone, especially when they are attracted to me also. I have a full-blown commitment phobia and being attracted to someone doesn't mean that I am ready to say "Let's hold hands and have a relationship." It could just be because I am young. Or maybe I just haven't met a good candidate yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prince Charming is a cheesy man in my mind, and if I ever met him, I think I will give him to one of my friends for Christmas. While I am happy for all the smug couples couples who consider themselves lucky to "get to" sleep with the same man forever and ever, rather than marry an accountant or journalist who cheats with the secretary at work, buy a house with a picket fence and have 2.5 children and a , I would prefer to live alone with no one to answer to but a car and a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't to say I will never get married, because that would be a silly thing to say. We do all make mistakes, after all. But until I meet a James Dean look-alike knight in shining Armani, I think will stay single and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-63828543419770269?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/63828543419770269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=63828543419770269' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/63828543419770269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/63828543419770269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/07/singledom.html' title='The Underrated Singledom'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-193502011637136336</id><published>2008-07-18T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T22:52:18.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdXtiLNI/AAAAAAAAAUk/mYPEuWIb9hA/s1600-h/australiapics+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdXtiLNI/AAAAAAAAAUk/mYPEuWIb9hA/s320/australiapics+079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224598284796046546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and Jodi&lt;br /&gt;Dad is photo-obsessed. He has to take a photo of every single little thing. If you look bad in a photo, Dad will just keep it anyway. And he won't try for a better shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdeGc41I/AAAAAAAAAUs/D_yzTcVdqRo/s1600-h/australiapics+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdeGc41I/AAAAAAAAAUs/D_yzTcVdqRo/s320/australiapics+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224598286511170386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Nadia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdrPKbhI/AAAAAAAAAU0/mzXGmeubaUk/s1600-h/DSCF4203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdrPKbhI/AAAAAAAAAU0/mzXGmeubaUk/s320/DSCF4203.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224598290037370386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me Jodi and Zio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdjrqtPI/AAAAAAAAAU8/GC8TbECbXpY/s1600-h/Everyone+At+Mums.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdjrqtPI/AAAAAAAAAU8/GC8TbECbXpY/s320/Everyone+At+Mums.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224598288009442546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah Blah Blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAd8lnT2I/AAAAAAAAAVE/tKpDdxGi5iQ/s1600-h/Jodi+and+Wayne+and+his+mum+and+sister+and+her+daughter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAd8lnT2I/AAAAAAAAAVE/tKpDdxGi5iQ/s320/Jodi+and+Wayne+and+his+mum+and+sister+and+her+daughter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224598294694940514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-193502011637136336?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/193502011637136336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=193502011637136336' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/193502011637136336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/193502011637136336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/07/photos.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SIGAdXtiLNI/AAAAAAAAAUk/mYPEuWIb9hA/s72-c/australiapics+079.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2559757562802420158</id><published>2008-07-16T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T23:28:25.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-Do you like the music your family listens to?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharon, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ang&lt;/span&gt;, and I all have similar music tastes. Mine is better &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No not at all. Jodi and Moofy's musical tastes are horrible in my ears and I don't even know what Christian likes. I do know that he would sing any song he understood the lyrics to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Is music a big part of your life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Massive &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Massive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Last song you sang out loud?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The World I Know with David Cook while watching American Idol! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Read My Mind... Haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you play air guitar when jamming out?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup. Good '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; Niki style! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nyahahaha&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No but maybe after four beers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Who was your 1st favorite band as a kid?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Avril, of course. but Band wise...BLINK 182!!! (I was just trying to be cool like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ang&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I think the Beatles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Ever had a song that make you think of an ex?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh...no &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Even when I liked someone and they felt the same and we did "things" and "that thing" if you will, I have never called a man/boy-who-thinks-he-is-a-man a boyfriend and so I have no exes, and I hope I still won't in 2 years' time. But yes, songs have reminded me of stupid men. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you know your parents wedding song?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably one of Dad's songs. They never had a wedding. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;What &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cd&lt;/span&gt; is in your car &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cd&lt;/span&gt; player? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharon loves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alanis&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Morsetti&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; about it. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;One Republic (Jodi likes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;When was the last time you burned a music &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;cd&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time...about 3 years ago. When I had to secretly listen to Breaking Benjamin and tell everyone it was downloaded music from Audio Linkup (I;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; never even been to that site) &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Hahaha, Mary Jane! Did you do that? Classic. I think I burned my last CD around a year ago. (Now Rod Shane and Sean burn them)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you sing in the shower?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shout out chorus' of the Killers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Coldplay&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I sing the Killers too! But only if I know Jodi will hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever sung in front of an audience?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...during those god &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;aweful&lt;/span&gt; Christmas performances. Does Karaoke also count? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes, and I was pissed drunk and it was terrible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever been the singer while playing Rock Band?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE ROCK BAND!!! but no, I'm always the Lead guitarist. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;What is your mom's favorite genre of music?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classical music. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; why she's smart &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Ah she liked dance &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-What is your favorite song by the Beatles?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; many : Strawberry Fields are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Forver&lt;/span&gt;, Across the Universe, Girl, Hey Jude, all the songs on Abbey Road...I like all the Beatles songs. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Hey Jude, Don't Let Me Down, Strawberry Fields Forever, Happiness Is a Warm Gun, Lucy In the Sky, She Loves You, As My Guitar Gently Weeps... and I like them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you your ticket stubs from concerts?????&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been to a real concert. I should try that next time.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;How many songs do you have on your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Theres&lt;/span&gt; only 2g on my shuffle so....about 400 &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I use one of Jodi's iPods and it has about 500 songs and I hate maybe 484 of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Does the music you listen to change with your moods?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, mostly I just listen to music based on my mood. (i.e. Disturbed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Chevelle&lt;/span&gt; when I'm angry) &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Not so much. Normally I like music because it matches all my moods... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;What are your favorite lyrics from a song&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;"Look at the Stars, see how they shine for you/And everything you do/Yeah, they were all yellow...For you I bleed myself dry!!!!" &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Oh there are lot.&lt;br /&gt;"These days you don't mean dick to me" and "I fuck myself in the head with stupid men" by Amy Winehouse&lt;br /&gt;And anything Beatles&lt;br /&gt;Oh and the lyrics to Lithium by Nirvana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you pay for your songs or steal them?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone really go and buy music? even on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;iTunes&lt;/span&gt;? Illegal downloading is the only thing I know how do to,. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Does not paying make it automatically illegal? I have never paid for a song? I don't even know hoe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;What kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; do you own?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; shuffle &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Jodi's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;If not, what kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; would you like to own?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Nano &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Nano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Define the term: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Boyband&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cute little boys that dance around and pretend to sing. i love them. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Little men that should be gagged and caged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-What's the farthest you've traveled to go to a concert?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;ben&lt;/span&gt; to a goddamn concert! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Never been to a concert. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do your friends listen to the same music you do?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;definately&lt;/span&gt; not. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;My cousin Chook does, and Nadia likes Nirvana. Rod Shane and Sean do. Cat likes the Killers. Amanda likes Emo music or something... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Do you watch American Idol?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watch the performances of the contestants I like. Like David Cook. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;nehehehe &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No and I wanted the other David to win&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Can you play an instrument?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell everyone I can but I actually cant. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;shhh&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Ever sing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;kareoke&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love karaoke! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes of course, it's fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever been to a concert you did not enjoy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive never been to a motherfucking concert! although, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Coldplay's&lt;/span&gt; going to be playing in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Westwood&lt;/span&gt; soon...I should get my ass down there! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No, and that's the only good thing about never having been to one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Have you been to a musical?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hills are alive with the Sound of Music! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No obviously... I am still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is better:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nsync or Backstreet Boys?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N'sync!!! They could sing and DANCE!!! plus they had Joey the Fatone! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;The Backstreet Boys (I would also rather die of food poisoning than freeze to death)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;John Mayer or Jack Johnson?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack Johnson!! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Jack Johnson &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Garth Brooks or George Strait?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really? is there really a difference? I say Viva la Billy Ray Cyrus!!!&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Fall Out Boy or Panic! At the Disco?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PANIC AT THE DISCO!!! yipeeee! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Panic! At the Disco... "Your eyes are the size of the moon" haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Elvis or The Beatles?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beatles are the shit! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;The Beatles, they are my second favourite band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Britney Spears or Justin Timberlake? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you make me choose?? I say Britney the Pop princess! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I don't care for the "music" of either, but kind of like Brit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonas Brothers are cute... &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Oh none....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mariah's a man and Whitney is...is she still alive? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Mariah is hotter, Whitney looks bad with her mouth wide open and it's a good thing Celine Dion is not here because she sounds like a grand piano...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This or that:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Country or Rock?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROCK! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rock or Rap?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROCK! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emo or Punk?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhhh...I thot the whole arguement was that emo isnt really a genre of music...it was a way of life. who am I kidding?? Punk! &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Not fond of either&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oldies or Country?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The older they get the better. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I guess the Beatles and Led Zep are Oldies now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Latino or Disco&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Disco disco yaya!!! Goooo Jhn Travolta!!&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; Can't decide but latin guitar is ok... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Skool or New School?&lt;br /&gt;Old Skool!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Old School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2559757562802420158?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2559757562802420158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2559757562802420158' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2559757562802420158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2559757562802420158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/07/do-you-like-music-your-family-listens.html' title=''/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3735574643135770276</id><published>2008-06-10T23:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T23:58:55.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Whatever</title><content type='html'>Patty said she loves me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did she ever say that to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you too Patty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3735574643135770276?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3735574643135770276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3735574643135770276' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3735574643135770276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3735574643135770276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/06/random-whatever.html' title='Random Whatever'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4400997230230823263</id><published>2008-06-09T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T02:32:29.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If Anonymous Told You To Jump Off A Bridge...</title><content type='html'>The reason I write I blog is so that my close friends and family can keep up to date on how I am doing without me having to call them write them all individual emails. I know they look at my posts from time to time, and some of them comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous comments sometimes too. Sometimes Anonymous is really just Lazy, and has a fine thing to say but can't be bothered letting me know who is saying it. But there are also times when someone wants to say something really mean, cutting, insulting or rude, usually something they would never say to anyone in person. But they think it's alright to say on the Internet, as Anonymous. Sometimes I have an idea of who these Anonymouses are, and sometimes I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know what kind of person they are letting themself become by saying such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I don't care what people think of me as much as I used to. Before, feeling ugly and looking ugly were a part of my everyday life and feeling like I had nothing offer was so normal to me I hardly knew the difference; when someone told me something mean, I just believed it, but not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, normally I delete their comments and go on with my day without thinking about it. Dwelling on the negative is not someone I like doing a lot, because it's almost always unproductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do think what these people do is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous told me to jump off a bridge. (Don't laugh, someone actually said that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone write me on Hi5 saying, "u have serious issues...i would go to rehab or mental institution to get help if i were u."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another person said I am too unattractive to deserve a good sexual performance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody also said, "u r such a piece of shit i wonder wut keeps u goin hahahahaha".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People you know who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes wonder what kind of satisfaction it brings them to say these kinds of things. I know I am not the only person who has to hear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as being unattractive, well, I think I am just average, and sometimes I wish I looked better. But then again, there are a lot of average people out there, and I doubt that I am the only girl in the world who sometimes wishes she was more attractive. But I also know that there is more to life than the physical appearance, and while you can change your looks that much, everyone can be a good person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody is a piece of shit and everyone has something to offer people. Even these people I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, words have an effect on people, and I know that I have said my share on mean/rude/terrible things. At the time they sometimes seemed funny, but after going through things in my own life, and being on the receiving end of a bit of bullshit, I regret that I said them. Gossiping never made me better than the person I was gossiping about, and in hindsight making someone else feel like shit never made me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing someone close to you teaches you the value of life, and that it's better not to waste it tearing other people down, and it's better not to assume that you are of no value. You don't know how much you mean to the people that love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It's one thing to say something you regret by mistake, and no one is perfect, but I think deep inside, even these Anonymouses know what they are doing is wrong, and they might be damaging their own self esteem more than anyone else's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays I try not to say anything that I don't mean. I don't believe my life has been neccessarily harder than anyone else's, but it's not easy. People are insecure enough without me adding to it. People go through enough in their lives without me dragging them through the mud. I am never going to know what somebody else is going through, but I don't want to make it any worse. If anything, I want to make it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't hate any of these people. One of them even used to be my friend. But I do hate what they are doing, and I hate what it can do to the people they say them to. And I hate that I have been guilty of it too. I just want it to stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4400997230230823263?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4400997230230823263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4400997230230823263' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4400997230230823263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4400997230230823263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-anonymous-told-you-to-jump-off.html' title='If Anonymous Told You To Jump Off A Bridge...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4785608391438142012</id><published>2008-06-03T23:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T23:44:01.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few About Sex</title><content type='html'>"The first global analysis of sex-behavior data shows no evidence of a trend toward youthful promiscuity." --Web MD Sexual Health Center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average Australian erect penis is 15cm (aprox. 5.9 inches) long. This is not massive-massive, obviously. I personally believe that size matters, but someone with an average-sized piece of machienery can do the job just fine, so long as he knows how to work it. Might not be so likely with Aussie men, since one quarter of the women considered sex to be painful or boring. Yeah... and imgaine how the YOUNG women feel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, these women must be kind or something, because one in five men under 20 is in a steady relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aussies supposedly have more sex in the park than any other countries do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the average man between 17 and 25 is finished within 4.8 mintues. (Probably longer if drunk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really fantastic!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4785608391438142012?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4785608391438142012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4785608391438142012' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4785608391438142012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4785608391438142012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/06/few-about-sex.html' title='A Few About Sex'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6922501441022214857</id><published>2008-05-27T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T23:47:10.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James Dean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8Oob-5vI/AAAAAAAAATI/_WCYe1NmLRA/s1600-h/1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205312597636605682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8Oob-5vI/AAAAAAAAATI/_WCYe1NmLRA/s400/1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PIb-5wI/AAAAAAAAATQ/Wx8JJ76w7HU/s1600-h/2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205312606226540290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PIb-5wI/AAAAAAAAATQ/Wx8JJ76w7HU/s400/2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PYb-5xI/AAAAAAAAATY/bQFlgvFzv8s/s1600-h/3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205312610521507602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PYb-5xI/AAAAAAAAATY/bQFlgvFzv8s/s400/3.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PYb-5yI/AAAAAAAAATg/PUSr0Y2OGvY/s1600-h/2054133587_f4a38cc2a7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205312610521507618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8PYb-5yI/AAAAAAAAATg/PUSr0Y2OGvY/s400/2054133587_f4a38cc2a7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8P4b-5zI/AAAAAAAAATo/nqjtkN924Ug/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205312619111442226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8P4b-5zI/AAAAAAAAATo/nqjtkN924Ug/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I once loved a man who looked exactly like James Dean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He was so goodlooking if you know what I mean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He broke my heart and it makes me wanna cry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But he's so goodlooking I think I'm gonna die&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is so jaw-dropping&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is so heart-stopping&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's like finding your dream house but you can't afford it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was much better off when I ignored it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He's always on my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can sense it when he lies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I look past what's doing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;At what he's saying with his eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do you guys think James Dean is even hot? Just wondering... I am so in love with him right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6922501441022214857?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6922501441022214857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6922501441022214857' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6922501441022214857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6922501441022214857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/james-dean_27.html' title='James Dean'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDz8Oob-5vI/AAAAAAAAATI/_WCYe1NmLRA/s72-c/1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3483746344383623750</id><published>2008-05-27T23:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T23:07:04.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James Dean</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3483746344383623750?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3483746344383623750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3483746344383623750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3483746344383623750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3483746344383623750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/james-dean.html' title='James Dean'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4353238793033924444</id><published>2008-05-21T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T23:44:28.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What If We Had A Straight White Male President?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDUEcob-5uI/AAAAAAAAATA/BHTMHr2UclY/s1600-h/2281183985_0da41a5bf8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203069834434111202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDUEcob-5uI/AAAAAAAAATA/BHTMHr2UclY/s400/2281183985_0da41a5bf8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the world today, it seems that the farther from tradition your point of view is, the better it must be. Left-wing is the new right-wing and to disagree is often considered either discriminatory or politically incorrect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked into a bookstore on my break from work. It was quiet since there were only 3 or 4 other customers. As I browsed I noticed some tasteful nude calenders and postcards. But some were not so tasteful. All the books had titles like "How To Play It Straight--Or Not", "Coming Out Of the Closet" and "How To Love Your Gay Brother."&lt;br /&gt;It would have been nice in there were any books on themes that interested me, so I asked the girl behind the counter, "Um, gay the theme of this bookstore?" She said, "Yeah, queer." I started heading toward &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; door and she raised her eyebrows at me as if to say, "Do you have a problem with that?" I tried to smile and not sound rude when I replied, "Well, I'm straight."&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I was leaving because the other customers were giving me weird looks and it wasn't like I wanted to offend them in their gay bookstore.&lt;br /&gt;As a disclaimer, I am not homophobic, and I don't look down on gay people or desire to hurt or offend them. I actually know some gay men who are nice, good people. It's up to them, and that's that. The only people who bother me are the ones that shove their sexuality in my face and get overly defensive about what really should be a private matter.&lt;br /&gt;But if there had been a whole bookstore dedicated to the benefits of being heterosexual, would that be alright with the gay population? Or is it now a case of discrimination against the majority?&lt;br /&gt;Another example is the Black Reel Awards, better known as the Black Awards, which began in 200o and were designed "to annually recognize and celebrate the achievements of black people in feature". That is good and well, but what if there had been a "White Awards"?&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it is arguable that black people have been overall subject to more racial discrimination than whites have. But is this kind of logic promoting racial &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;equality&lt;/span&gt; or making it more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unachievable&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An experiment was done in Australia where a Chinese imigrant and a white Australian went to the same Chinese computer dealer with identical laptops for an identical problem. The white man paid 7 times what the Chinese man paid. The conclusion was that imigrants are in fact more likely to charge white people a higher price, just for being white. It was dubbed as reverse descrimination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;American women did not have the constitutional right to vote until the year 1920. The New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Zealanders&lt;/span&gt; were ahead and won the right in 1893. Australians in 1902, Finland in 1906 and the French women waited until 1944. Male &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;chauvinism&lt;/span&gt; been prevailant in many societies for centuries and has only changed significantly in the past 200 or so years. It is generally agreed that both sexes are equal and should be treated equal, but I was sometimes wondered if what some Women's Rights activists want is to be equal to men, or to be surperior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world has changed an awful lot, especially over the course of the 20th century. Some things have been good changes, like granting women the right to vote, abolishing slavery and what. But while the good aspects of these changes are celebrated, is anyone looking at how beneficial to society some others actually are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take a woman's right to have an abortion for instance. It's usually seen as a good thing, but what has it done to the demographics in some 1st world countries? In Japan 20 years from now, there will be so many people over the age of 65 that the working population will have no way to support them, and this will be the case all over the 1st world sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that some people are more concerned about having a woman president or a black president for the first time than they are about electing someone who does the job well. If the best candidate really is a woman, or a black man, that is fantastic, but the best person for the job should be more important than the headlines. I mean, Margaret Thatcher happened ages ago, and no one says much about that.&lt;br /&gt;It's clearly a matter of pride for Hilary Clinton, who has even began to refer to herself as Hilary &lt;strong&gt;Rodham &lt;/strong&gt;Clinton lately. At the same time, people are more impressed with politicians who appear to have good marriages. As if we haven't noticed that sneaky Rodham between Hilary and Clinton lately. And no one could possible be fool enough to believe that, in spite of Monica Lewinsky and everything, they have a really good marriage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this post was just a vent about how ironic everything is getting lately. I am not saying my point of view is really accurate, or even worded very well, what do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4353238793033924444?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4353238793033924444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4353238793033924444' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4353238793033924444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4353238793033924444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-if-we-had-straight-white-president.html' title='What If We Had A Straight White Male President?'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SDUEcob-5uI/AAAAAAAAATA/BHTMHr2UclY/s72-c/2281183985_0da41a5bf8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8976747926354677128</id><published>2008-05-19T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T23:28:39.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Say I Love You</title><content type='html'>OK, not never. There are heaps of appropriate times to say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I kind of wanted to make a point about when is NOT the right time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN YOU DON'T MEAN IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are joking, and you say to a friend, "I love you." you need to somehow indicate that it's a joke, by like laughing or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't tell your girlfriend you love her if you really don't. Her expectations get that much higher when you say the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might not mean much to you, but you never know how much what you say will mean to someone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8976747926354677128?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8976747926354677128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8976747926354677128' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8976747926354677128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8976747926354677128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/never-say-i-love-you.html' title='Never Say I Love You'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6654632744735731000</id><published>2008-05-14T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T00:20:21.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Amanda's blog has all these boring questionaires on it that no one really reads except me, cuz I love her. But they are good to fill in, and I love her answers.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you...Sung someone to sleep?&lt;/strong&gt; I've taken care of many a toddler in my time. That's the extent of it. You'll have no running-hands-through-lover's-hair-whilst-crooning-a-self-composed-lullaby from me!! Mwaha! &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been to a psychiatrist?&lt;/strong&gt; No. But there's always a first for everything. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baked a cake without a recipe?&lt;/strong&gt; Once. I made a note never to do it again, too. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, I hate cooking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Recorded your voice?&lt;/strong&gt; A couple times. I hope to this day that any and all copies manage to miraculously erase themselves, but alas, that may be too much to hope for... &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, and I would never do it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Written a novel?&lt;/strong&gt; Writing one at the moment. It's quite an exciting business. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I have started to write several, but I didn't love any of the storylines enough to finish them, except one. And I had to stop that one too, because it got too hard. It's fun to do. And Amanda, when you are done, make sure you show me your novel!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Had a paying job?&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, thank Heavens. How else would I feed my addiction to coke? (don't worry... I mean the fizzy brown stuff) &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lost a loved-one?&lt;/strong&gt; Sister, friend. Other family members I didn't know too well. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been in a band?&lt;/strong&gt; Sort of... &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Danced in front of people?&lt;/strong&gt; Unfortunately for them, yes. I fancied myself a dancer once, a long time ago. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Maybe once or twice when I was drunk... I can't remember, thank God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wanted children?&lt;/strong&gt; Briefly, whilst holding a friend's baby. Then it threw up in my face and I decided that child-rearing wasn't for me. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, and to be honest, I can't think of anything I would like less than to get pregnant. One "Anonymous" said to me that being pregnant is not the end of the world, but that is a personal decision, and in my mind, it pretty much is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been to a concert?&lt;/strong&gt; Oh, SO many. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cried yourself to sleep?&lt;/strong&gt; Copiously. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, it's terrible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Met someone famous?&lt;/strong&gt; Only Japanese celebrities, sad to say. I haven't started my stalking career officially yet. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not really really famous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wanted to be famous?&lt;/strong&gt; I still do. It's a genetic disease thing. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Never! I really appreciate my privacy. I am so glad that not so many people care about what I do everyday. God watches me, and even that seems like too much sometimes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Used a rhyming dictionary?&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, and was heartily ashamed afterwards. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I can rhyme well enough without one. I didn't even know those exist...but now I want to try to use one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drew/painted a piece of art to completion?&lt;/strong&gt; I hate art. With a passion. Mainly because I'm not artistic in the slightest. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So many times, I love art. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Streaked?&lt;/strong&gt; YES, and loved every minute. I am such a closet nudist. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, and I would never do it! Nudity bothers me. I prefer sex clothes on, and that is not only because of what I don't want them to see, but also what I don't want to see. Just because someone is the hottest thing since the sun doesn't mean they need to shock you with their nakedness. Only exception would be Amanda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gone somewhere deliberately in the hopes of running into someone?&lt;/strong&gt; I do it all the time. I'm a loser- I have an excuse! &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not that I can remember specifically.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Felt so incapable of expressing love that you cried?&lt;/strong&gt; Not really. I'm kind of good at expressing things. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. Things got so uncomfortable that I finally made an effort to tell the person. It was so embarassing, it was like dying, only knowing that you will only be alive the next day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Written a song?&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;When did you write a song? And my answer is no!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Climbed a mountain?&lt;/strong&gt; Too many. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. Sometimes even carrying boxes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wished you were the opposite gender?&lt;/strong&gt; During my pre-teen stages I dressed, acted, talked, and looked like a little boy, out of choice. I'm glad to say I've fully recovered now. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Of course! Boys have it so much better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stayed up all night?&lt;/strong&gt; Yes. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, sometimes it was because I couldn't sleep, which was bad. But then again, sometimes it was because I was having too much fun to sleep. Good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been heartbroken?&lt;/strong&gt; Naw. I'm a toughie. hehe... yeah... &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. People have no idea how bad a broken heart is, because they always associate it with romance. My heart has never been broken in that way, even though one time one guy hurt me a bit... haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been in love with someone who had no idea?&lt;/strong&gt; They probably had no idea for about two days before it was glaringly obvious. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I have never been in love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you...Stop reading books halfway through?&lt;/strong&gt; I've been doing that more recently. I need to stop.  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes! I don't believe in finishing anything just because I started it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sleep during movies?&lt;/strong&gt; Not once. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. It's like when you stop reading a book halfway through. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cry during movies?&lt;/strong&gt; I cried during "Armageddon" yesterday. I'm very emo. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talk a lot?&lt;/strong&gt; When comfortable with the situation. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Matters with who, and when, and what about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sleep better alone?&lt;/strong&gt; Definitely. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;YES! God, yes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Own a pair of glasses?&lt;/strong&gt; Sunglasses, yes. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, and it always surprised people because I don't wear them. And I own a lot of sunnies too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pinch pennies?&lt;/strong&gt; All my life. It's the Jew in me. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quickly lose interest in projects?&lt;/strong&gt; Ashamedly quickly. Unless it's something I HAVE to do. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Misplace things?&lt;/strong&gt; Constantly. Even more than my boss, and that's saying something. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Buy stationery before you need it?&lt;/strong&gt; I never buy the stuff. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love math?&lt;/strong&gt; Adore it. When I understand it. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Same as Amanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Know a lot of random facts?&lt;/strong&gt; I know more trivia than important facts. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. Do you know the 3 youngest men to be elected president of the US? I do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do romantic, thoughtful things for the people you love?&lt;/strong&gt; Thoughtful, yes. Screw romantic. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No I never even do that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have difficulty getting rid of things you don't use?&lt;/strong&gt; I'm teaching myself that junk isn't allimportant. I learn slowly. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not at all. I consider it my right to get rid of all the things in my life that I do not absolutely love, be it stuff or anything else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Notice and remember little things about people?&lt;/strong&gt; If they're worth remembering. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Same as Amanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prefer wine to beer?&lt;/strong&gt; I actually dislike both. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Beer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do an accent?&lt;/strong&gt; You should hear my Japanese accent. Perfection. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Same as Amanda. I do a good Uncle Gideon. (I love you Uncle Gideon!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enjoy the spotlight?&lt;/strong&gt; Pretend to dislike it, secretly adore it. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love board games?&lt;/strong&gt; Not particularly. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Buy your own shampoo or toothpaste?&lt;/strong&gt; No. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes of course. The maid isn't gonna do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wish people would stop talking about you?&lt;/strong&gt; Of course. What a silly question. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;That IS a silly question!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keep a journal?&lt;/strong&gt; Since I was 5 years old. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Same as Amanda... ish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enjoy exotic foods?&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, my mom's Chinese. Go figure. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes. Have you ever eaten a whole lemon, baked?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cook elaborately for yourself?&lt;/strong&gt; When I'm in the mood. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No way. I hate cooking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have expensive taste?&lt;/strong&gt; Not really. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;When I'm in the mood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Write on yourself?&lt;/strong&gt; It's addictive. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, I do it really really bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay up late?&lt;/strong&gt; My eventual killer will undoubtedly be my enormous sleepdebt. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Same as Amanda. I have made more bad choices at 3 am than any other time. Don't read into that statement too much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Absolutely love your perfume/cologne or use it because you have it?&lt;/strong&gt; Meh to perfumes. Scented deoderant for me. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, I only keep things that I love, remember?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wish you could be someplace else?&lt;/strong&gt; The Afterlife, perhaps?&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; Yes, of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miss people?&lt;/strong&gt; Always. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Organize to a fault?&lt;/strong&gt; Critically.  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, I really plan my life, and things always go according to what I planned, be that a good thing or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a long time to be satisfied with your work?&lt;/strong&gt; I'm a perfectionist. You know, the clinically insane kind. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wear clothes that are too big for you?&lt;/strong&gt; None of my clothes actually fit me. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If they are comfortable...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Own more than 10 pens?&lt;/strong&gt; Probably, I've never bothered to actually count. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Easily, I am a total stationery fanatic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wear make-up every day?&lt;/strong&gt; No. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yes, I work! Why look bad when you can look better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get angry often?&lt;/strong&gt; I get indecently angry about once a month. Otherwise, I'm annoyed consistently. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, it actually takes a lot to make me really angry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Wasn't that fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6654632744735731000?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6654632744735731000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6654632744735731000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6654632744735731000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6654632744735731000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/amandas-blog-has-all-these-boring.html' title=''/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-961879480019218063</id><published>2008-05-07T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T22:58:35.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vote For Pearl Kellie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SCKVCHfPU-I/AAAAAAAAAS4/T_kjwHYXb5c/s1600-h/oc-kellie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197880783541326818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SCKVCHfPU-I/AAAAAAAAAS4/T_kjwHYXb5c/s400/oc-kellie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help this gorgeous girl win Miss Bikini Phillipines by going to &lt;a href="http://getzmo.com/?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=1967"&gt;http://getzmo.com/?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=1967&lt;/a&gt; and voting for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-961879480019218063?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/961879480019218063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=961879480019218063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/961879480019218063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/961879480019218063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/05/vote-for-pearl-kellie.html' title='Vote For Pearl Kellie'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/SCKVCHfPU-I/AAAAAAAAAS4/T_kjwHYXb5c/s72-c/oc-kellie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2762308450839202222</id><published>2008-04-30T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T22:35:42.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To Mary Jane</title><content type='html'>You see I purposely made this post late because I wanted it to be good by American time. Ok I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway happy birthday and best wishes to you Mary Jane! What was being 16 like for everybody? Nothing really changes legally, does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And congrats on moving to the states and what. Wish you the greatest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2762308450839202222?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2762308450839202222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2762308450839202222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2762308450839202222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2762308450839202222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-birthday-to-mary-jane.html' title='Happy Birthday To Mary Jane'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2726387078456129767</id><published>2008-04-29T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:19:29.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Keeping Amanda's answers, cuz I like them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you get along better with guys or girls?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys. They're so much less complicated. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I agree with you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If someone liked you right now, would you want them to tell you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes. I heard that someone likes me, and if it's true I want him to tell me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does it matter to you if your boyfriend/girlfriend smokes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I wouldn't mind in the slightest  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;It doesn't bother me. And I am glad it doesn't bother Amanda either, because I smoke.&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last person you texted?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fishy &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Jodi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you like shows like Forensic Files and Unsolved Mysteries?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they're anything like NCIS, I'll adore them &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;NCIS, good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you prefer to take showers at night or in the morning?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;List people you were/are best friends with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fishy&lt;br /&gt;Akari&lt;br /&gt;Lily&lt;br /&gt;Ambie&lt;br /&gt;Melinda?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I don't like to pick a "best friend". Different people are close to me at different times for different reasons. All the people I was close with are in Japan (Patty, Amanda, Mary Jane, Angelo, Lena, and Moofy) Patty and I were  sort of like best friends when we were kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Name the best people who could cheer you up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fab&lt;br /&gt;Fishy&lt;br /&gt;Megz&lt;br /&gt;Melinda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Rod. Peter (the other chef). My cousin Chook. Shane (waiter). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you been to New York City?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not once. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who is the last person you added to your contacts list in your phone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No clue mayte. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Some loser and I shouldn't have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have any expensive jewelery?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loads, and I never use them. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes, but I am like Amanda in that I don't use it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manager from restaurant, about job interview &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Rod, he drives me to work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably. None I can think of atm. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt; I can talk to all my friends of the opposite sex. That's why they are my friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Heard any really great quotes lately?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes- I practically live in Gee and BJA's Wikiquotes pages.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes... I just can't think of any right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you think you have made a difference in anyone's life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite assuredly, yes. Mostly for the worse, too. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Amanda has made a difference in my life, so there's one for her list. I probably have been a bad difference to a few...and a good difference to maybe one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you remember the name of your first school you ever went to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mitaka Shiritsu Dai-Go-sho.(URK!) &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have/would you ever tattooed anyones name on you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just not smart.&lt;br /&gt;What if you want to forget them? Then you'd really be in a piss.&lt;br /&gt;Band names are the only exception.&lt;br /&gt;I already have MCR =) &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I don't think so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What is the name of your siblings best friend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 10 siblings, and I have no bloody clue.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Not so sure anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's the most appealing thing about the opposite sex?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their genetilia, doh.&lt;br /&gt;Kidding.&lt;br /&gt;The whole "dominant" thing, maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Unlike women, men know what they want. Or at least they act like it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Which year has been the best so far?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2005, maybe? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;2006. 2008 is getting close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ever found more than a dollar/pound in a random place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found 500 yen coin once. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Once or twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Has anyone ever been more important to you than a family member?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never.  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;In hindsight, no. And I have never been in love either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last time you smiled!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately three minutes ago. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I have been smiling all day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last text message in your inbox?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None, it's a new phone. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;"I am out the front".--Rod&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Whens your next road trip?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows? &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;...Well let me know when you go, Amanda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Would you cry if you found out you were pregnant?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd probably weep my guts out. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;It would be beyond crying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where is your phone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right beside me. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;In my back pocket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you think your current pets will be alive ten years from now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably not, it's a budgee. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I don't have any pets now, but I had budgees when I was younger. The one that lived the longest lived nearly eight years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When was your last bubble bath?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had a bath this year, as we have no tub. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Maybe when I was 10. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you know anyone by the name of Dennis?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I used to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where is your pet right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In its cage, sleeping. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;They are all dead in the ground in Japan. This is a hard subject for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What color phone do you have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very dark blue. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Very dark red. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How many kids do you want to have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None, preferably. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;None. But just suppose I wanted to have kids, then maybe 3 sons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What outfit do you have on at this exact moment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bathrobe &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Trench coat and jeans and a scarf. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What color are your eyes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark brown. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Green&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What are you doing tomorrow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worrying about job interview, finding proper resume, filling it out, JOB INTERVIEW &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you know someone who likes you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Like I said earlier, I heard that someone does, but I don't know if it's true because he did tell me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. And it's very saddening cos I know I'll never like them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does a heartbreak feel as bad as it sounds?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chyes. It's always worse experiencing things firsthand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What color is your hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark brown/Blue/Blonde &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Black&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What are things you hate losing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Loved One&lt;br /&gt;Fights&lt;br /&gt;Arguments&lt;br /&gt;Important documents&lt;br /&gt;My wallet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Friendship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you eaten popcorn in the past 48 hours?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha... NO!  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;No&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever been in handcuffs?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but not for jail. &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you could say anything to any one person what would it be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is better than yours and I've finally acknowledged it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I think I would say to the person I like that I like him. And to this one person who pissed me off that he pissed me off. And Amanda, I am liking my life right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's your turn now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2726387078456129767?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2726387078456129767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2726387078456129767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2726387078456129767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2726387078456129767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/04/keeping-amandas-answers-cuz-i-like-them.html' title=''/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2906727569451369766</id><published>2008-04-29T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T22:45:36.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Well</title><content type='html'>Lately I really couldn't have been bothered updating this blog. The work computer caught a virus and now only the Rod (head chef) and my sister Jodi (manager) are allowed to use it. There's my excuse.&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; But right now I am at an Internet lounge &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;And the man next to me is hot. &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I hope he isn't reading this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lately...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been working. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pierced my tongue like I said I was going to. I did it the day before yesterday, and I have a feeling I am never going to use my mouth for anything useful again. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess that is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2906727569451369766?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2906727569451369766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2906727569451369766' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2906727569451369766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2906727569451369766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/04/well-well.html' title='Well Well'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5597692433864661383</id><published>2008-02-07T03:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T03:39:37.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well It's Hard To Do, Guys!</title><content type='html'>I guess you have guessed by now that I haven't quit somking and Shane is five cents richer. My moods were changing, I was actually really moody and snapping at everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I DREAMT I had a smoke. It's been a while since I wanted something so much I dreamt about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am gonna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5597692433864661383?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5597692433864661383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5597692433864661383' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5597692433864661383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5597692433864661383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/02/well-its-hard-to-do-guys.html' title='Well It&apos;s Hard To Do, Guys!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5809882502898354107</id><published>2008-01-28T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T21:42:01.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>QUITTING quitting</title><content type='html'>I feel so bad. I feel SO bad.&lt;br /&gt;     But that's OK, I am quitting smoking. Never mind nicotine patches. And not those nicorette chewing gums either. (Did you know it has been proven that overuse of those chewies causes cancer? A total disillusionment!)&lt;br /&gt;     So I said I was gonna quit smoking for lent. And Shane says, "HA! You will not be able to quit, ever, at the rate you are going." Excuse me sir? I said, "Are you saying I cannot quit smoking?" and he goes, "Yes, I could be saying that. In fact, here is five cents. If you can quit for the entire 40 days of lent, I will give you another five cents. If not, you give me ten cents. I am giving you 5 cents in advance because I know you won't do it, so I know I will see it again."&lt;br /&gt;     Well to all the people who said I can't: nahaha! And screw lent, nahaha. I will go without for 40 days now. And I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5809882502898354107?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5809882502898354107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5809882502898354107' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5809882502898354107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5809882502898354107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/01/quitting-quitting.html' title='QUITTING quitting'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6374278774533690125</id><published>2008-01-24T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T15:04:45.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest In Peace Heath</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/R5kY3f2FSTI/AAAAAAAAASw/YkUuRqVio7I/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159182189849823538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/R5kY3f2FSTI/AAAAAAAAASw/YkUuRqVio7I/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Exactly how or why it happened, we won't really know. No matter. Rest in peace, Heath Ledger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"If you just be safe about the choices you make, you don't grow." --Heath Ledger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6374278774533690125?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6374278774533690125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6374278774533690125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6374278774533690125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6374278774533690125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/01/rest-in-peace-heath.html' title='Rest In Peace Heath'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/R5kY3f2FSTI/AAAAAAAAASw/YkUuRqVio7I/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3972611577885164507</id><published>2008-01-24T14:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T14:45:26.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stalkers</title><content type='html'>I know I have said this before, but the world really has a problem with stalkers. And rude people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was working in the kitchen and I had to get something from in the bar. Some young man saw me and decided that he would like to buy me a drink. But I went back to what I was doing. Well, that genius decided to follow me into the kitchen. I was so freaked out, being alone in the kitchen with a drunk man. He told me his name was Kevin, and when he reached out to shake my hand he nearly fell into my face.&lt;br /&gt;I told him, "I am very sorry Kevin, but we don't allow customers in the kitchen. You will have to leave."&lt;br /&gt;"I just want to buy you a drink," Kevin insisted.&lt;br /&gt;"The drinks are in the bar. And I am working."&lt;br /&gt;He grabbed me arm but he was so drunk that I just sort of pushed him away and out the door. He was gone, thank god, and I finished work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Then at the end I had to go into the alleyway to throw out some garbage. By now it was past 10:00 and really dark. No matter. This is what you need to do every night. So I went. I heard a voice behind me and spun around. Oh great. Kevin again. I went through the back gate and started locking it from the inside so he couldn't come in. The bars were wide enough tho, that he could reach in and grab onto me, which is what he started to do. It was freaky man. Finally his cab came and he was waving! Like I was his friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day I was washing dishes, and some old man comes and winks at me and says, "Hey doll!" I don't think so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's also the time the blading man in his forties faced the window, and pissed on the wall right in front of my eyes. Some people have NO shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man was smoking in his car when he suddenly stopped right outside the window. He kept looking real intently at me. Then he parked his car and stood outside just looking. Then he left. Retards annoy me. But at least this one came back to say, "I just want you to know I am not stalking you!" REALLY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3972611577885164507?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3972611577885164507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3972611577885164507' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3972611577885164507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3972611577885164507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/01/stalkers.html' title='Stalkers'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3169061112177780121</id><published>2008-01-24T05:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T05:28:53.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is Major</title><content type='html'>Ok so this new waiter is working where I work. His name is Shane and when I met him he pretty much knocked the whhhind out of me. That is a friggin oath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to tell you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a lot like the sun. So hot that you can't look too long, or it'll hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god, he is good looking like woah my god. Sorry to be repetitive but it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the story, goes, the chick meets the hot guy and next thing you know, he is charming too. But then he is cocky. And mean. Oh and oh no, he's flirting with every lady that walks in. But at least his muscles are niceBUT HE'S SO DUMB! Oh and did we mention RUDE???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shane is really NOT cocky, really not mean, so polite, and he is smart! In fact he is a bit of a dork. He goes to university and he is totally politically correct. There is something about everything I say that he finds mean, politically incorrect, somehow racist (I'M NOT THO), pointed or downright dirty. In fact he is so unperverted he's a bit scary. Is he male or is he alien?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, what do you think people?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3169061112177780121?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3169061112177780121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3169061112177780121' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3169061112177780121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3169061112177780121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-is-major.html' title='This Is Major'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8926984030584565597</id><published>2007-11-28T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:55:54.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Your Astrological Sign Says About You</title><content type='html'>What Your Astrological Sign Says About&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARIES (March 21-April 19): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CANCER (June 21-July 22): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): People like you because you're where it's at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Absolutely nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8926984030584565597?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8926984030584565597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8926984030584565597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8926984030584565597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8926984030584565597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-your-astrological-sign-says-about.html' title='What Your Astrological Sign Says About You'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8085226955798392447</id><published>2007-11-28T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:49:20.921-08:00</updated><title type='text'>????????</title><content type='html'>Who voted I shouldn't get a tounge pierce?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8085226955798392447?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8085226955798392447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8085226955798392447' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8085226955798392447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8085226955798392447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post.html' title='????????'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3165967879621940898</id><published>2007-11-28T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:50:19.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest Now</title><content type='html'>Torn jeans and flannel shirts are the most stylish clothes in the world. No. If you work in the kitchen, looking good is just SO important. Not really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the store to buy something, and while waiting in line I was trying to call someone on a cell phone. I must have gotten a bit distracted because I didn't realize my turn had come. And so the lady behind me snapped, "Get off the drugs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back from the store a hippie offered me marijuana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I went to drop something off at our boss' shop. He said, "How are you going? Are you OK? Everytime you walk paased you look so dazed and confused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how I give off a pothead impression, but next time I walk passed the boss' shop I will be sure to look really high strung and chipper, so maybe he will think I am on speed instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3165967879621940898?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3165967879621940898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3165967879621940898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3165967879621940898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3165967879621940898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/honest-now.html' title='Honest Now'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3654037565415811972</id><published>2007-11-26T13:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:45:20.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Cousins</title><content type='html'>For my two days off I took the train to Ballan to see my cousins. Nadia wasn't there, Jake was with his girlfriend that whole time and Rebecca went somewhere for the school holiday. I went to the town where she was and I was with her for a few hours, but I spent pretty much the whole time with Chook.&lt;br /&gt;Nadia and Rebecca are both pretty, Jake is muscular. And Chook is handsome. I am so proud to be related to them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3654037565415811972?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3654037565415811972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3654037565415811972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3654037565415811972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3654037565415811972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-cousins.html' title='My Cousins'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5518732761538283988</id><published>2007-11-21T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T13:50:53.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Robbed!</title><content type='html'>Yeah. The Clare Castle was robbed while no one was there. Jodi came in the next day and the side door was smashed in and the cash was gone. Crime investigators came and took photos of the scene and are hoping to catch the guy.&lt;br /&gt;Are we supposed to feel safe at work? I don't know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5518732761538283988?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5518732761538283988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5518732761538283988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5518732761538283988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5518732761538283988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/robbed.html' title='Robbed!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-884546226439370848</id><published>2007-11-21T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T13:54:44.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone I Miss In Japan</title><content type='html'>(Not in order of important. But I do love whoever I put first...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Mia because you are fun to talk to! And Karaoke with you is fun, because you pick all the songs, pick quick and sing on key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Angelo and Steven... fun to hang around with. Oh oh I miss the Bomb Game... and I never thought I would be saying this but I miss Steven's movie choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Moofy... don't know why, but I miss you Moofy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.I miss LENA cuz she's a good partner for doing something to sneak around the adults. Ha ha. Just kidding. (NOT REALLY!) It was good going to Jusco with you and coming back two hours late. Did I ever tell you you're the master of lame excuses?? Well yeah, you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.James, my best FIend. I love you! I think I feel a tear coming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Mary Jane! Miss our chats about nothing in particular. I would still love to rent a house with you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I prefer her to any other...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marijuana!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Amanda! If there is anyone that's good to talk to about a relationship, it's YOU! I miss telling you about whoever it is I have a crush on. (I have a crush on someone now. Can we chat?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Patter! I know whenever we chatted it went like:&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: What did you do today?&lt;br /&gt;Patter: nothing&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: I knew you would say that.&lt;br /&gt;Patter: why&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: Because you always do.&lt;br /&gt;Patter: cuz its true&lt;br /&gt;Patter: im bored&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: Me too. What are you doing now?&lt;br /&gt;Patter: reading on wikipedia&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: Me too&lt;br /&gt;Patter: im bored&lt;br /&gt;Mariea: me too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.I miss trading secrets with RICHIE. You never did call me. Did you? Never mind. I will call you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.YUTS! ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.Uncle Gideon! If I ever needed advice, and I wanted it to WORK, he was the first person I would ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Vicki! You are cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.Aiko, my fellow genius. Do you still have the goldfish purikuras?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.JP...Dunno I just.. miss teasing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sorry if I missed anyone. I love you anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-884546226439370848?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/884546226439370848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=884546226439370848' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/884546226439370848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/884546226439370848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/everyone-i-miss-in-japan.html' title='Everyone I Miss In Japan'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7587372663293703035</id><published>2007-11-21T13:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T13:29:11.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Since Being In Australia</title><content type='html'>Let's see. Since being Here...&lt;br /&gt;     I got a job working at the Clare Castle Hotel, which is an Italian restausant that Jodi manages. I work in the kitchen for a Chef who's name is Jeff... it's not my fault that it rhymes either. The waitresses are lovely. They have given me cute nicknames like "Worker Ant", and the "Kitchen Bitch". The proper title for someone in my line of work is "Kitchen Hand." ...??? Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     I went to Victoria market, and I bought two big posters, and some T-shirts. I spent about $80 dollars that day... about on day's pay for me. So fun.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     I would like to promise to post photos, but I have no camera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Yeah whatever so how have you been?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7587372663293703035?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7587372663293703035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7587372663293703035' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7587372663293703035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7587372663293703035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/11/since-being-in-australia.html' title='Since Being In Australia'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4686951095320688079</id><published>2007-10-01T02:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T02:50:09.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going To Australia</title><content type='html'>You have probably all heard that I am going to Australia to see my family on October 21st. But just in case, I thought I should put it up so everyone can know it.&lt;br /&gt;     Well that was the news... gonna miss all my friends in Japan ...you know who you are...and of course everyone in my home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4686951095320688079?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4686951095320688079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4686951095320688079' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4686951095320688079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4686951095320688079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/10/going-to-australia.html' title='Going To Australia'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6352154944129263173</id><published>2007-09-05T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T04:39:41.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watch Out For the Weirdo</title><content type='html'>The people in this Home go to Jusco everyday, just about. Auntie Olivia twice a day sometimes. And now we have all seen him. And so has the whole of Auntie Crystal's family. We noticed he was following us when it was still about March. What bothers me the most is that he works there every single day. Once we were even jogging down the aisle to get away, only for me to run right into him.&lt;br /&gt;     But he still does it. Uncle Gideon complained about him to the vice president of Jusco and he promised to do something. But the next evening he was there again, back at it. And the nest day, and the next. Nuts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6352154944129263173?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6352154944129263173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6352154944129263173' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6352154944129263173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6352154944129263173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/09/watch-out-for-weirdo.html' title='Watch Out For the Weirdo'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-648124839073993145</id><published>2007-08-23T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T08:37:15.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>News Flash 3</title><content type='html'>Someone brought to my attention that I didn't write anything about what I have been doing the month. I know. That is because no one reads it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the month of August. This month we did no school, went to the dam to swim (I didn't swim though of course) and saw the others home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Moofy&lt;/span&gt; and Lena probably went to the other house more than we have in our lives. Weird. Earlier this month Angelo broke his foot and now he wears a cast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't go to the AIP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elena came down from Chiba. It was real fun, like a story in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew is here now. Everyone says he looks so much like Angelo. Try not to understand if you don't. It's so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mia will have to baby any day now. I had a dream she had it while we were watching a movie.  OH NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had a BBQ with the other home. Aiko accidentally spit gum in John Paul's hair. Awful, and I had to take it all out. I also got a STARWARS Episode 1 T-shirt for him. I am so nice to JP!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-648124839073993145?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/648124839073993145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=648124839073993145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/648124839073993145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/648124839073993145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/news-flash-3.html' title='News Flash 3'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1037876333636607834</id><published>2007-08-11T23:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T23:13:34.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Thinking of You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rr6k0R8mt3I/AAAAAAAAASk/hDK5lm9NiJw/s1600-h/theotherwhitmeat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rr6k0R8mt3I/AAAAAAAAASk/hDK5lm9NiJw/s400/theotherwhitmeat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097693046307731314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patty sent me this photo. Is it just me, or is it really disturbing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1037876333636607834?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1037876333636607834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1037876333636607834' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1037876333636607834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1037876333636607834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/still-thinking-of-you.html' title='Still Thinking of You'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rr6k0R8mt3I/AAAAAAAAASk/hDK5lm9NiJw/s72-c/theotherwhitmeat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-742327192742662282</id><published>2007-08-05T08:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T08:12:57.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money Isn't Everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RrXozB8mt2I/AAAAAAAAASc/n3Zl4jnZ5Cs/s1600-h/apic22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RrXozB8mt2I/AAAAAAAAASc/n3Zl4jnZ5Cs/s400/apic22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095234516833187682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-742327192742662282?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/742327192742662282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=742327192742662282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/742327192742662282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/742327192742662282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/money-isnt-everything.html' title='Money Isn&apos;t Everything'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RrXozB8mt2I/AAAAAAAAASc/n3Zl4jnZ5Cs/s72-c/apic22.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7528377313442752639</id><published>2007-08-03T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T05:06:04.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Mia is so cool!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7528377313442752639?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7528377313442752639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7528377313442752639' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7528377313442752639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7528377313442752639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/hey-everyone-look.html' title='Ok'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1281045570239317372</id><published>2007-08-02T08:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T08:33:45.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That Is IT!</title><content type='html'>Steven is really gonna get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1281045570239317372?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1281045570239317372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1281045570239317372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1281045570239317372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1281045570239317372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/that-is-it.html' title='That Is IT!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-236466585889792449</id><published>2007-08-01T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T08:34:12.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff You Don't Know... Or Maybe You Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;My Nonna has the same name as me. I don't know if that means I am named after her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;2 or 3 months ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I never think about it. I guess that means no. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;What's a lunchmeat? I like fish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Probably. I hope that that's not strange. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;7. DO YOU USE SARCASM ALOT? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;That's what people tell me, but I can't be sure. I don't listen to myself talking. I think it would depend on how you take what I say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I probably would. Matters on my mood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I hate milk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;11. DO YOU UN TIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Not if they are Sneakers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Not particularly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I like chocolate mint... that's all I can think of right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;If they have one very dominant feature (like receding hairline) I would notice that. But in general, I notice whether or not they are good looking. Usually the eyes and eyebrows, or just the face in general. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;15. RED OR PINK? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;It matters what for. For nailpolish I prefer red. Makeup as well. Actually... maybe red. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Never think about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;17. WHAT DO YOU MISS THE MOST? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I'm not good with open-ended questions, so I don't really know what this means. I think I miss being a little kid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt; Blue jeans and no shoes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;20.WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Toothpaste. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Uhhh I can hear my own typing but I am not listening to it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Black.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;23. FAVORITE SMELLS? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Whiskey, incense, nailpolish and maybe bleach. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;My brother Christian called me today. Oh but so did Jodi... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Aussie Football&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;27. HAIR COLOR? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Brown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;28. EYE COLOR? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Green... whatever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;No but I wear glasses when I watch movies. (I bet you did NOT know that!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;30. FAVORITE FOOD? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;I don't know. I am more into drinks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;It depends. I like scary movies. But I think a happy ending is nice too. Real life is sad enough without watching a sad movie. Although sometimes and ending is sad, but it's not sad, because it's a "right" ending, where you know things worked our for the best. Basically, if it is a good movie I don't care. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Coyote Ugly. I DID NOT PICK THAT! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Black and a blue flannel over it. Nice and grunge. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;34. SUMMER OR WINTER? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;WINTER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;35. HUGS OR KISSES? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Matters who from, where and how good they are at it. In general I don't much like affection though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;36. FAVORITE DESSERT?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am not so big on dessert. I like ice cream though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Some American history books. Really interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;This mouse pad is so worn out, I can't tell if there was something written there once if it is just dirt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;A little of the news. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;42. FAVORITE SOUND? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Music of course. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Maybe the Beatles. Overall there songs were better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;44. WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Where is home? It would depend on that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Not a good question to ask me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Fukuoka... but I grew up in Osaka area.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-236466585889792449?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/236466585889792449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=236466585889792449' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/236466585889792449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/236466585889792449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/08/1.html' title='Stuff You Don&apos;t Know... Or Maybe You Do'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4918922420218278631</id><published>2007-07-16T23:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T23:03:46.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Patty do you know this guy??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RpxbiKZfkeI/AAAAAAAAARc/HrU9DIe-ZOg/s1600-h/222289652TL067501341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RpxbiKZfkeI/AAAAAAAAARc/HrU9DIe-ZOg/s320/222289652TL067501341.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088042321486778850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4918922420218278631?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4918922420218278631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4918922420218278631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4918922420218278631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4918922420218278631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/07/patty-do-you-know-this-guy.html' title='Patty do you know this guy??'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RpxbiKZfkeI/AAAAAAAAARc/HrU9DIe-ZOg/s72-c/222289652TL067501341.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5083750202382990487</id><published>2007-07-15T09:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T09:38:50.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RppNXaZfkcI/AAAAAAAAARM/ZMi5DJlExXk/s1600-h/Copy+of+07090024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RppNXaZfkcI/AAAAAAAAARM/ZMi5DJlExXk/s320/Copy+of+07090024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087463793686974914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lena is so pretty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RppNX6ZfkdI/AAAAAAAAARU/ge7tN-_vlT8/s1600-h/07090022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RppNX6ZfkdI/AAAAAAAAARU/ge7tN-_vlT8/s320/07090022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087463802276909522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5083750202382990487?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5083750202382990487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5083750202382990487' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5083750202382990487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5083750202382990487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/07/blog-post_15.html' title='.....'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RppNXaZfkcI/AAAAAAAAARM/ZMi5DJlExXk/s72-c/Copy+of+07090024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7145415127809588454</id><published>2007-07-06T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T00:32:16.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>On the 3rd it was a very special someone's birthday. It was Yuki's birthday... but the special person I had in my mind was TOM CRUISE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7145415127809588454?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7145415127809588454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7145415127809588454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7145415127809588454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7145415127809588454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/07/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8277990953222996172</id><published>2007-07-06T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T00:27:40.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Gideon Please Don't Say That!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ro3udao1UZI/AAAAAAAAAQc/CLVbUbHwgbo/s1600-h/23522852.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ro3udao1UZI/AAAAAAAAAQc/CLVbUbHwgbo/s200/23522852.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083981743505363346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt I will marry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ro3udqo1UaI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VsvMAWpttfk/s1600-h/24351193.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ro3udqo1UaI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VsvMAWpttfk/s200/24351193.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083981747800330658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Because one you're married--I hate to state the obvious--but you're married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    Ok the reason I say this is that Mia was talking about her pregnancy while I was eating my lunch. The subject of breastmilk came up, which I just find SO freaky. Anyway, I continued eating in silence.&lt;br /&gt;    Then Uncle Gideon walks into the room and remarks, "Mariea, you're gonna get married soon. For sure before you become 23. You already have the face of a mom!" In another life!--Unlce Gideon, please don't say that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8277990953222996172?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8277990953222996172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8277990953222996172' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8277990953222996172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8277990953222996172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/07/uncle-gideon-please-dont-say-that.html' title='Uncle Gideon Please Don&apos;t Say That!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ro3udao1UZI/AAAAAAAAAQc/CLVbUbHwgbo/s72-c/23522852.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5103771753464006052</id><published>2007-06-30T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T23:27:57.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuky</title><content type='html'>Summer is so hot. I hate summer! How did you survive last summer? Let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5103771753464006052?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5103771753464006052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5103771753464006052' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5103771753464006052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5103771753464006052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/yuky.html' title='Yuky'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3353850218292208891</id><published>2007-06-27T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T07:20:08.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Don't Say That!</title><content type='html'>I like Cancer men and by happenstance I like guitarists too. Somehow or another Yuki is both... but oh well whatever. Nevermind. Anyway everyone was teasing me about Yuki for some dumb reason. They were like "Blah blah blah blah...blah" and blah blah you know, the usual. And that was annoying enough until Auntie Crystal had to say, "Oh but Yuki is a cutie!"&lt;br /&gt;    YIKES! Steven actually screamed, and I actually died. And then she went on to say, "What? If I was a teen girl...!" NO NO  NO NO NO Auntie Crystal please don't say that. I don't mind to think a guy is hot... but I don't want to have to share my opinion with a MOM! I am in such bad company!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3353850218292208891?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3353850218292208891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3353850218292208891' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3353850218292208891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3353850218292208891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/please-dont-say-that.html' title='Please Don&apos;t Say That!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7146105949068682122</id><published>2007-06-27T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T06:47:41.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry To Embarass Angelo...</title><content type='html'>So we were all on the beach trying to dig a hole deep enough to bury Moofy, standing up.  Angelo was digging with his hands at first, but he must have gotten tired or whatever because there was this old couple walking past with two shovels in hand.&lt;br /&gt;    "We'll jan-ken and the loser asks to borrow the shovel!" Moofy says.&lt;br /&gt;    "Nah, I can do it," I grumbled.&lt;br /&gt;    "Hell no! You can't just ask some old people, 'can I use your shovel'!."&lt;br /&gt;    "Guys, this is such crap." Lena snapped.&lt;br /&gt;    Well some way or another, I asked them. The old lady gave me a funny look when I was walking toward her, but she didn't seem surprised at all. She said to me in pretty good English, "Oh, we can &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;give &lt;/span&gt;you this shovel."&lt;br /&gt;    I insisted that she didn't have to do that but she said, "It's ok, it's only 100 yen." She handed me the shovel and she left before I could say a word.&lt;br /&gt;    Well, that was highly embarassing, since she obviously heard Angelo call her an old lady... and all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7146105949068682122?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7146105949068682122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7146105949068682122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7146105949068682122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7146105949068682122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/sorry-to-embarass-angelo.html' title='Sorry To Embarass Angelo...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1030991117383741990</id><published>2007-06-23T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T09:39:35.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Random Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTXUFX8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/GfNE__tMYjg/s1600-h/3716.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTXUFX8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/GfNE__tMYjg/s200/3716.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079299850303266754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Douglas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTXUFX9I/AAAAAAAAAQE/35qFs9Pun2Y/s1600-h/4393.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTXUFX9I/AAAAAAAAAQE/35qFs9Pun2Y/s200/4393.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079299850303266770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are better photos of Douglas... but I don't know where, and these are cute enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTnUFX-I/AAAAAAAAAQM/KvDQF_6-f7A/s1600-h/05200003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTnUFX-I/AAAAAAAAAQM/KvDQF_6-f7A/s200/05200003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079299854598234082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTnUFX_I/AAAAAAAAAQU/Mf4yYOxnQ4E/s1600-h/05280032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTnUFX_I/AAAAAAAAAQU/Mf4yYOxnQ4E/s200/05280032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079299854598234098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moofy on her birthday: faithfully dressed as edward scissorhands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1030991117383741990?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1030991117383741990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1030991117383741990' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1030991117383741990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1030991117383741990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/some-random-pics.html' title='Some Random Pics'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rn1MTXUFX8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/GfNE__tMYjg/s72-c/3716.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7946824457914919598</id><published>2007-06-22T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T10:58:02.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A must read</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Dear World;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wish everyone could know the pain I live with every day of my miserable life. Alas no, statistics tells me that only 1 in every 30,000 adult males has a penis less than 4 inches long and 2 inches around. Only they, my wee weinied brethren can even begin to understand the hurt I feel when I step up to a urinal and the stream of urine is only slightly smaller than the 3.28 inch long, 1.67 inch wide wanker that it springs from.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have tried pumps, creams, exercises, pulling and god forbid; even praying. Nothing works, not even marginally on my minuscule member. So, everyday I try to lie to the world about possessing a petite pecker by peeling out in my Corvette, strutting around in expensive suits, talking about my mansion, dating strippers to show the world my virility and constantly crowing about my colossal crotch. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But my Armani suits are just expensive costumes to hide my teeny-tiny tallywacker. My gigantic house is where I sit alone with my dwarf johnson. And the truth is the only thing I can stretch when it comes to my freakishly feeble frankfurter. Day in and day out I used to ask myself, "&lt;i&gt;Richard David what would jesus do with a small penis?&lt;/i&gt;" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7946824457914919598?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7946824457914919598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7946824457914919598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7946824457914919598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7946824457914919598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/must-read.html' title='A must read'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5826943482988982661</id><published>2007-06-22T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T09:27:06.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Jack Is Nasty...</title><content type='html'>We all know that Moofy thinks Uncle David is handsome. Well, of course not for real, but anyway, she's fun to tease. Who she really likes is his son, David Cloward, but that's not the point. She hates all the teasing...&lt;br /&gt;    So we all went to David Cloward's house and all the teens played Black Jack. Lena loses, and she has to kiss David Cloward on the cheek. it was a huge deal. It was the life of my life. ...Until Moofy lost and she had to kiss his arm, each kiss longer than the first saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you." This would not be a big deal if she didn't actually have feelings for him, but I guess she does.&lt;br /&gt;    Titty made a no-kissing-noses rule. PHEW! I had to walk into the dining room and give Uncle Gideon an on-the-spot kiss on the cheek. Humiliating. Daichi lost, and he had to kiss me on the nose, since Titty wasn't there to save me.&lt;br /&gt;    But I think the bomb was right about when Moofy walked up to Uncle David and kissed he cheek. Words cannot do justice the look that was in her eyes!&lt;br /&gt;    On the way home Uncle Gideon said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"When I was young it was a shiner prize for girls to kiss me. --And now they do it for batsu??"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5826943482988982661?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5826943482988982661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5826943482988982661' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5826943482988982661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5826943482988982661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/black-jack-is-nasty.html' title='Black Jack Is Nasty...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6847507764826569315</id><published>2007-06-22T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T10:38:26.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naming the Baby</title><content type='html'>Who decides a childs' name? Well, I guess Moofy does. See, Titus and Mia have a son Darren, but Moofy decided to change his name to Douglas.&lt;br /&gt;   "Darren, is your name Douglas?" Titus asked in a fatherly tone.&lt;br /&gt;   "Yes!" Douglas squeals.&lt;br /&gt;    Douglas looks in the mirror and says, "I see Douglas!" We wanted to make sure he really got the point that his name is Douglas, so I taught him a little song to the tune of "Your Name Is Wonderful":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Your name is Douglas&lt;br /&gt;Your name is Douglas&lt;br /&gt;Your name is Douglas&lt;br /&gt;Douglas my boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Uncle Gideon was concentrating on something and being real quiet, then he finally asked, "What's a short name for Titus?" We were like, "Tights? Tight-ass??? TIT???? Titty?????" Moofy affectionately dubbed Titus Titty. Flattering!&lt;br /&gt;    Now Titty wants a name for my dad... and we are looking for one for Mia? Any ideas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6847507764826569315?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6847507764826569315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6847507764826569315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6847507764826569315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6847507764826569315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/naming-baby.html' title='Naming the Baby'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3617721224536536343</id><published>2007-06-22T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T10:28:11.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>News Flash 2</title><content type='html'>When we decided Titus, Mia and Darren could come visit us, someone decided my room was a good place to put them. So now I live in a tiny hot room that barely fits more than a bed, and doesn't have a fan. But I decorated it good, and at least I have the place to myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3617721224536536343?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3617721224536536343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3617721224536536343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3617721224536536343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3617721224536536343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/news-flash-2.html' title='News Flash 2'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-9014330588064723170</id><published>2007-06-18T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T07:54:27.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About Marriage</title><content type='html'>Grace, Lena and I talked about who we each wouldn't mind getting together with once, who we like and stuff. Lena and Grace had answers, and they made good sense. Like, "I want to marry so-and-so because he is hot."&lt;br /&gt;     But when it came to my turn, I had someone in mind. He is hot and cool and a really good friend, but I realized that I can be attracted to someone.... alot... but not wanna I dunno... be with him... at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-9014330588064723170?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/9014330588064723170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=9014330588064723170' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/9014330588064723170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/9014330588064723170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/about-marriage.html' title='About Marriage'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-748870872016411111</id><published>2007-06-18T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T07:49:58.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>News Flash 1</title><content type='html'>Our General member Charity and her mom came. We were glad her mom had a good time here, which was good. We really cleaned before she came here. Charity will be here till the 21st, and our Actice member Grace has been here cooking and helping the Home.&lt;br /&gt;     Grace has been here cooking and helping out. It's good to have here staying the night, and it has helped ease the pain of missing Vicki. (Vicki will be back from Hiroshima in a week). Vicki!!! We miss you!&lt;br /&gt;     And tomorrow Titus and Mia will be coming fro a two week visit. Oh yeah, and I have been making the schedule for like the past two weeks... and I am so bad at it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-748870872016411111?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/748870872016411111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=748870872016411111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/748870872016411111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/748870872016411111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/06/news-flash-1.html' title='News Flash 1'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5226162686289008657</id><published>2007-05-30T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T09:36:12.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Activated Subscription</title><content type='html'>I subscribed my dad's friend to Activated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5226162686289008657?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5226162686289008657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5226162686289008657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5226162686289008657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5226162686289008657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/activated-subscription.html' title='Activated Subscription'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7873712212085486258</id><published>2007-05-30T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T09:22:17.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah yeah yeah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2i6qV_IzI/AAAAAAAAAPo/cJNcO7XTPuE/s1600-h/05090017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2i6qV_IzI/AAAAAAAAAPo/cJNcO7XTPuE/s200/05090017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070387884171666226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11 is traditionally the ugliest stage, at least in our family. But James has survived being 11 very well. He is fun to be with, works hard, and teasing his high voice is always fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2i9aV_I0I/AAAAAAAAAPw/hYB50vB7Yd4/s1600-h/05120010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2i9aV_I0I/AAAAAAAAAPw/hYB50vB7Yd4/s200/05120010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070387931416306498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moofy is simple and funny. Really cute. She's not evil like I am and sometimes it puts me to shame. Sometimes it makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-aV_IuI/AAAAAAAAAPA/fMRLPNHpz_s/s1600-h/05200006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-aV_IuI/AAAAAAAAAPA/fMRLPNHpz_s/s200/05200006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070386849084547810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Uncle Gideon is my favourite Uncle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-6V_IwI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/GE_7UQAi8vg/s1600-h/05200002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-6V_IwI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/GE_7UQAi8vg/s200/05200002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070386857674482434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think Lena likes to cook so much, but anyway, she made sushi, and it was rather pretty. Lena knows how to control Moofy. Thanks Len!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-6V_IxI/AAAAAAAAAPY/r9L-DTq3Y8M/s1600-h/05200009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h-6V_IxI/AAAAAAAAAPY/r9L-DTq3Y8M/s200/05200009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070386857674482450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vicki I miss you! Have fun in Kanazawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h_KV_IyI/AAAAAAAAAPg/W1h_N9ht9TE/s1600-h/05200010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2h_KV_IyI/AAAAAAAAAPg/W1h_N9ht9TE/s200/05200010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070386861969449762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grace is fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have put photos of Aiko and Kenny and Auntie, but I didn't have any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7873712212085486258?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7873712212085486258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7873712212085486258' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7873712212085486258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7873712212085486258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/yeah-yeah-yeah.html' title='Yeah yeah yeah'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rl2i6qV_IzI/AAAAAAAAAPo/cJNcO7XTPuE/s72-c/05090017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2817417468211041370</id><published>2007-05-19T08:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T08:56:51.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freeday Shopping</title><content type='html'>This freeday was fun because rather than being an annoying Scrooge, I spent my money. Lena, Moofy and I bought birthday presents for Vicki...AND&lt;br /&gt;     We went to the VanGaurd and found the Kurt Cobain Poster I have always wanted. I bought it. And we each bought a Nirnava T-shirt. They were 1500 yen each, but oh well, whatever. Nevermind. Hahaha ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2817417468211041370?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2817417468211041370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2817417468211041370' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2817417468211041370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2817417468211041370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/freeday-shopping.html' title='Freeday Shopping'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-731221795067134860</id><published>2007-05-14T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T01:17:19.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could only find the words to say</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come dowsed in mud, soaked in bleach&lt;br /&gt;As I want you to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You're in my heart&lt;br /&gt;You're above my bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You're every part&lt;br /&gt;of every thought&lt;br /&gt;That fills my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You're the man that's on my mind&lt;br /&gt;You're so pretty&lt;br /&gt;Oh well whatever, nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you liked my ditty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't get enough of you...enough of you&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna say that I love you, I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-731221795067134860?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/731221795067134860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=731221795067134860' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/731221795067134860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/731221795067134860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/if-i-could-only-find-words-to-say.html' title='If I could only find the words to say'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-5417270431280269395</id><published>2007-05-14T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T07:36:32.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Announcement.</title><content type='html'>I decided to write a story about last summer. If anyone has any memories that they would like me to include, please send me them. Also any input.&lt;br /&gt;    I hope to make it a series or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-5417270431280269395?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/5417270431280269395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=5417270431280269395' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5417270431280269395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/5417270431280269395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/announcement.html' title='Announcement.'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-285985355915198957</id><published>2007-05-14T07:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T07:34:02.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky I</title><content type='html'>I got a double bed for my room!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-285985355915198957?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/285985355915198957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=285985355915198957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/285985355915198957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/285985355915198957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/lucky-i.html' title='Lucky I'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-684792440787435015</id><published>2007-05-14T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T07:33:14.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Weeks blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>This week's accomplishments:&lt;br /&gt;1. I did lots of extra school and kept some of the kid's records ane helped make a portfolio for James.&lt;br /&gt;2. Dad and I went on a follow-up to a guy (he's 20) and he said he would like to learn the Bible from me.&lt;br /&gt;3. We had a night get out with the Homes around here and after that we saw the 40 Year-Old Virgin and Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;4. For Mother's Day we invited Auntie Crystal's Home came (well, everyone but Steven, like always.)&lt;br /&gt;5. I cleaned my room realy well and Uncle Gideon gave me a pair of shoes as a reward.&lt;br /&gt;6. We cleaned our house real well and did repairs so that Johane and Lydia san can come. it took about 2 weeks, and they will only be here about 2 days, but the house looks really good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-684792440787435015?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/684792440787435015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=684792440787435015' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/684792440787435015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/684792440787435015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/one-weeks-blah-blah-blah.html' title='One Weeks blah blah blah'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6126839731547774105</id><published>2007-05-06T04:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T04:28:55.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nasty Evening</title><content type='html'>"We need chicken for dinner, but it's raining." Auntie Olivia says. "Can you go and get some?"&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, I can take a bike...umbrella."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to the store and bought the chicken without event. it was dark by the time I got on my bicycle. Immediately after I began to peddle, a strong gust of wind destroyed my umbrella. Ooops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what to do? I couldn't take the umbrella home, and I couldn't very well leave it either, or another gust of wind would send it flying and kill someone. So I locked the umbrella to a pole. There was a group of maybe 5 17-18 year-old boys smiling and watching me intently. It was highly embarassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought maybe they rain and wind would die down. Fat chance. The wind only got stronger, and riding against it was so not easy. I must've looked like Freak #1 to everyone around me, since it was pouring in rain and I was drenched wet, all alone, and grinning like an idiot. Oh well, it's always better to be happy when you can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6126839731547774105?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6126839731547774105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6126839731547774105' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6126839731547774105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6126839731547774105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/nasty-evening.html' title='A Nasty Evening'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-953444252505646269</id><published>2007-05-05T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T07:17:43.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To One Of The Sexiest Ladies I Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGSvf2rI/AAAAAAAAANo/dShG9jZ1BlE/s1600-h/3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGSvf2rI/AAAAAAAAANo/dShG9jZ1BlE/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061076320019012274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mimi you are strange. But you make other people feel comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGSvf2sI/AAAAAAAAANw/ZIfbmE9GfZk/s1600-h/315152735.img.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGSvf2sI/AAAAAAAAANw/ZIfbmE9GfZk/s320/315152735.img.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061076320019012290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting boring to say this, but it must be fun to hear: Mimi, you are very pretty and sexy and fun.&lt;br /&gt;I remember walking down the street with Mimi. For a moment I thought, "Wow, all the guys are staring at me." But of course, they were staring at you.&lt;br /&gt;I swear, Mimi, you are so pretty, someday someone may accidently drive off a bridge while staring at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGivf2tI/AAAAAAAAAN4/RXQk3azkyok/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGivf2tI/AAAAAAAAAN4/RXQk3azkyok/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061076324313979602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mims is fun. Of a truth, I have always been a little jealous of your fun-ness, among other things. You and Elena both look like Catherine Zeta Jones (though not necessarily in this photo).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGivf2uI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MmY3YHcUVug/s1600-h/6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGivf2uI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MmY3YHcUVug/s320/6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061076324313979618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a Playboy model, you are sexy. Like Angel, you have huge boobs, which is really cool. Like a mommy, you are concerned about people. Like Jesus, you like to help people. And like nobody else, you are Mimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you lots Mimi! Have a happy birthday, and a good year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love always, Mariea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-953444252505646269?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/953444252505646269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=953444252505646269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/953444252505646269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/953444252505646269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-one-of-sexiest-ladies-i-know.html' title='To One Of The Sexiest Ladies I Know'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjyOGSvf2rI/AAAAAAAAANo/dShG9jZ1BlE/s72-c/3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2635908378771136095</id><published>2007-05-04T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T09:11:39.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moofy the Freak</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rjta8ivf2qI/AAAAAAAAANg/bhq36Zb7nsY/s1600-h/2007_0504_1728.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rjta8ivf2qI/AAAAAAAAANg/bhq36Zb7nsY/s320/2007_0504_1728.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060738602445560482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moofy says: "I was getting a taste of my favourite snack. --Plastic man. YUM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2635908378771136095?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2635908378771136095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2635908378771136095' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2635908378771136095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2635908378771136095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/moofy-freak.html' title='Moofy the Freak'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rjta8ivf2qI/AAAAAAAAANg/bhq36Zb7nsY/s72-c/2007_0504_1728.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7690814787940712798</id><published>2007-05-04T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T08:50:06.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Angelo</title><content type='html'>Today is a special day, because it is Golden Week, which only comes once a year for 3 days. ...Well, it's also Angelo's birthday. (He turned 15... like I said, everyone is getting so old!)&lt;br /&gt;    His invited all his Japanese friends from school to his party. (One other guy was half German half Japanese, like Angelo, only he speaks no English.) Angelo and JP tried rather unsuccessfully to teach them Mafia. Playing Old Maid with 15 people didn't work very well either. Can someone tell me why???&lt;br /&gt;     Well since it's his birthday I guess I should say what I like about Aneglo. Probably won't get around to it for the rest of the year. (Angelo, I hope you're not reading this.)&lt;br /&gt;     1) Angelo works hard, and he's rather responsible. ...&lt;br /&gt;     2) He's rather funny in his moments of brilliance. People actually laugh at his jokes, and not just HIM, which is good.&lt;br /&gt;     3) I can't find a third thing ... Well, I tried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7690814787940712798?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7690814787940712798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7690814787940712798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7690814787940712798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7690814787940712798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-birthday-angelo.html' title='Happy Birthday Angelo'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4090938113359602036</id><published>2007-05-01T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T00:39:43.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To My Friend Jane</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjbpBCvf2RI/AAAAAAAAAKY/0cwp0cNK5C0/s1600-h/251456505.img.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjbpBCvf2RI/AAAAAAAAAKY/0cwp0cNK5C0/s320/251456505.img.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059487435522562322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mary Jane Johnson, my very good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Happy birthday, though it's a day late. (Isn't it annoying when people say "I know it's late but I still mean this so much..." blah blah blah... I think we're friends enough to know that much!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I like you because&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1) You can always make me laugh, even when nothing is funny but you. You know, like that time there were ants in the cooler box... Quote: "We've had years of experience".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Life is not boring with you... and if it is, you will dream up a crazy idea of something to do. (Like when we snuck out of the tent.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) You are so un-typical. You don't befriend people by saying the usual "You're so cute... you have such nice eyes... I really like your..." blah blah blah. And it's always nice when there's someone around who's got the balls to say what they really think, and you are that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Over the however-long I have known you, we have formed so many private jokes, I tried to make a dictionary out of it. I can't remember why I gave up. Maybe there were too many. Since meeting you so many words have taken on a new meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4090938113359602036?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4090938113359602036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4090938113359602036' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4090938113359602036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4090938113359602036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-my-friend-jane.html' title='To My Friend Jane'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjbpBCvf2RI/AAAAAAAAAKY/0cwp0cNK5C0/s72-c/251456505.img.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1489470229612481537</id><published>2007-04-28T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T08:59:04.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Hope the Baby's Not His</title><content type='html'>Today I went to Jusco with James and I was in the foreign foods store, and I saw a sight to behold. --Something you never see on an ordinary Saturday. There the hot Jusco man was with his mom and dad. His mom was pushing a stroller, and he was carrying a baby. It's most likely his brother and I just hope the baby's not his son! I doubt it. Anyway his magic green shirt was a welcome change from that pink Jusco jacket I saw him in before. I swear I am gonna witness to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1489470229612481537?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1489470229612481537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1489470229612481537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1489470229612481537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1489470229612481537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/just-hope-babys-not-his.html' title='Just Hope the Baby&apos;s Not His'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3958869868199901586</id><published>2007-04-26T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T08:32:30.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Found Him</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Moofy and Lena told me there's a hot guy at Jusco who's really shy, so I decided to witness to him. I have looked faithfully for him for about a month and never found him until yesterday, and he's hot. Witnessing to him might take a while... but it should be worth it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;     Also, today on the way Home from get out a bird pooped on my arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3958869868199901586?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3958869868199901586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3958869868199901586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3958869868199901586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3958869868199901586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-found-him.html' title='I Found Him'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8343723324540697468</id><published>2007-04-26T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T08:33:42.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjtSSivf2pI/AAAAAAAAANY/lXMqOb1R3X4/s1600-h/04110007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjtSSivf2pI/AAAAAAAAANY/lXMqOb1R3X4/s200/04110007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060729084798032530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjDBVSvf2LI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hvYjszHQJgA/s1600-h/290932463.img.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjDBVSvf2LI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hvYjszHQJgA/s320/290932463.img.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057754953089538226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjDBVivf2NI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/vXbPzIi-bMk/s1600-h/Green+Blush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjDBVivf2NI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/vXbPzIi-bMk/s320/Green+Blush.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057754957384505554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8343723324540697468?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8343723324540697468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8343723324540697468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post_26.html' title='.'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RjtSSivf2pI/AAAAAAAAANY/lXMqOb1R3X4/s72-c/04110007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4269730502956976402</id><published>2007-04-24T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T23:16:19.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Epic Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Steven and Jp and I saw the Epic movie... it's funny. And Lucy is so cute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4269730502956976402?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4269730502956976402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4269730502956976402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4269730502956976402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4269730502956976402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/epic-movie.html' title='The Epic Movie'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1502972797977369303</id><published>2007-04-24T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T23:05:33.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woops</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ri7xOSvf2II/AAAAAAAAAJU/Ab9ZCrMVZ3M/s1600-h/04230003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ri7xOSvf2II/AAAAAAAAAJU/Ab9ZCrMVZ3M/s320/04230003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057244659435165826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Moofy looking a little dopey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ri7xOyvf2JI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ka1VjhikvSU/s1600-h/04230010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ri7xOyvf2JI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ka1VjhikvSU/s320/04230010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057244668025100434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1502972797977369303?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/1502972797977369303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=1502972797977369303' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1502972797977369303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1502972797977369303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/in-her-panties.html' title='Woops'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Ri7xOSvf2II/AAAAAAAAAJU/Ab9ZCrMVZ3M/s72-c/04230003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-6279995221893345995</id><published>2007-04-22T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T07:50:33.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Yay.</title><content type='html'>Today my Dad's friend took us out to eat. Oh yay yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-6279995221893345995?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/6279995221893345995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=6279995221893345995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6279995221893345995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/6279995221893345995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-yay.html' title='Oh Yay.'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2127155434056845172</id><published>2007-04-17T04:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T04:05:10.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>Me and Steven saw RV with JP and David... and Training Day. RV was good... sort of close to home in a weird way. (Patty, Mary Jane, if you have seen it, you might know what I mean...)&lt;br /&gt;    Oh yeah... today for freeday I went shopping and I won a soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2127155434056845172?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2127155434056845172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2127155434056845172' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2127155434056845172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2127155434056845172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post_17.html' title='....'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2638650882741349509</id><published>2007-04-12T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T06:34:07.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rh45uq4B-NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/HumJl1tvpik/s1600-h/04110023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rh45uq4B-NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/HumJl1tvpik/s320/04110023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052539305902340306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2638650882741349509?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2638650882741349509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2638650882741349509' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2638650882741349509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2638650882741349509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Rh45uq4B-NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/HumJl1tvpik/s72-c/04110023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7556130629703107863</id><published>2007-04-11T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T07:41:22.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Damn Damn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyOq4B-JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/IqNlwWhU-Y8/s1600-h/johnny_depp_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyOq4B-JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/IqNlwWhU-Y8/s320/johnny_depp_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052179215844243602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Depp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyO64B-KI/AAAAAAAAAIs/E2sJH-JNpA4/s1600-h/jude_law_03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyO64B-KI/AAAAAAAAAIs/E2sJH-JNpA4/s320/jude_law_03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052179220139210914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude Law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyO64B-LI/AAAAAAAAAI0/jVVXrX27XCg/s1600-h/Mel-Gibson---Braveheart--C10102005.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyO64B-LI/AAAAAAAAAI0/jVVXrX27XCg/s320/Mel-Gibson---Braveheart--C10102005.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052179220139210930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel Gibson, my sexy Old Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyPK4B-MI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WqHK7P5VPbg/s1600-h/Kurt_Cobain_with_Cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyPK4B-MI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WqHK7P5VPbg/s320/Kurt_Cobain_with_Cat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052179224434178242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love them all, but I love Kurt Cobain best. --For how he looks, for what he could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7556130629703107863?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7556130629703107863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7556130629703107863' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7556130629703107863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7556130629703107863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/damn-damn-damn.html' title='Damn Damn Damn'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzyOq4B-JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/IqNlwWhU-Y8/s72-c/johnny_depp_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8165568766774453661</id><published>2007-04-11T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T07:40:05.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxSq4B-DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/b-N9yYnCuGs/s1600-h/0000012-hugh_grant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxSq4B-DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/b-N9yYnCuGs/s320/0000012-hugh_grant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052178185052092466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hugh Grant--the Essence Of Class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxS64B-EI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Ahz4YH3YsjY/s1600-h/banderas_038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxS64B-EI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Ahz4YH3YsjY/s320/banderas_038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052178189347059778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antonio Banderas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxS64B-FI/AAAAAAAAAIE/dW7ND9XKOHs/s1600-h/colin_farrell_i_dare_19386a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxS64B-FI/AAAAAAAAAIE/dW7ND9XKOHs/s320/colin_farrell_i_dare_19386a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052178189347059794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colin Farrell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxTK4B-GI/AAAAAAAAAIM/f8aIN4PpX4I/s1600-h/HeartSewell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxTK4B-GI/AAAAAAAAAIM/f8aIN4PpX4I/s320/HeartSewell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052178193642027106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rufus Sewell (just for you, Moofy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxTK4B-HI/AAAAAAAAAIU/sUhPixPrzS8/s1600-h/hugh_jackman_photo341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxTK4B-HI/AAAAAAAAAIU/sUhPixPrzS8/s320/hugh_jackman_photo341.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052178193642027122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Hugh Jackman, the sexiest beast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8165568766774453661?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8165568766774453661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8165568766774453661' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8165568766774453661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8165568766774453661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/hot.html' title='Hot'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhzxSq4B-DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/b-N9yYnCuGs/s72-c/0000012-hugh_grant.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4960534873507990433</id><published>2007-04-10T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T06:38:52.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nacho Libre</title><content type='html'>Me and Steven saw Nacho Libre. It was better than I had  anticipated... .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4960534873507990433?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4960534873507990433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4960534873507990433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4960534873507990433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4960534873507990433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/nacho-libre.html' title='Nacho Libre'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8366426056979715541</id><published>2007-04-08T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T08:29:30.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something I Saw</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;                                    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;   Peace I can’t find. I’m on the wrong track&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m losing my mind, out of control. Is there no way back?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel sick in the soul and I’m about to crack.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I play hard and wish to party my problems away&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I pray no one notices my spirit’s decayed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m only seeing dark and if this doesn’t pass&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m gonna crash in the park and die on the grass.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;There in the green I’d be relieved of the pain,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not dangling in between, but totally insane.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;To insanity it leads, this road I’m walking down&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And with a spirit that bleeds, the body also drowns.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;My addictions suck my lifeblood away in trade for a thrill.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And once I’m empty I’m back to the mud again, in I wade for a refill.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t stand going through this over again and again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You said You would help, will you do this?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just tell me when, God, when?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Will I be happy if I put down my bitter knife that is my tongue?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;…Let others into my life and stop wading in dung?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;To protect myself I put up a wall&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Between me and those who could have been my friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I haven’t any self-worth at all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shutting them out made me fall in the end. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;To help other people I should have sought&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But I locked myself in because I would not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I realized my error and discovered my fate&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I saw a reason to live, but feared it too late.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Besides, I had nothing to give because I’m nothing great.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;This lie in my mind overcame me with grief&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And stole away my hope like some kind of thief.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was either fight to be free or continue down this road&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And finally jump off a tree from the strain of the load.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fighting for anything was a painful thought,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But something had to give, like it or not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was in that moment that I remembered You&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;And that You’d promised to keep me and bring me though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I didn’t really see how it would help &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But I didn’t mind to try, as I’d tried everything else.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You amazed me. You did as You promised.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;You made my life better and proved Yourself honest.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;God please forgive me for thinking only of myself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Help me think more of other and come out of my shell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I never want to return to war with my mind&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or again have to learn it’s a living hell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Choosing to forgive is choosing peace of mind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I must continue to live and leave the past behind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;may be simple, but I’m happy as I am. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because I strive for better and give what I can.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;In thinking of others, I forget about me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;In looking to You, I see accurately. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m finally free to live and to breathe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Because you have taught me that when I give I receive.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8366426056979715541?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8366426056979715541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8366426056979715541' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8366426056979715541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8366426056979715541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/something-i-saw.html' title='Something I Saw'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3109956849432100061</id><published>2007-04-02T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T08:50:41.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;While I was at a bazaar I met  a lady who managed clothing store . At the back of the store there were kimonos on  display. I  made friends with her and she said I could try them on for free. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFO2RCvKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/628WxCs2TSk/s1600-h/F1000002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFO2RCvKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/628WxCs2TSk/s320/F1000002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049596466088295586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;James. Looking so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFPWRCvLI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7BTXQzjLEUU/s1600-h/F1000004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFPWRCvLI/AAAAAAAAAHk/7BTXQzjLEUU/s320/F1000004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049596474678230194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFPmRCvMI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ytISPb3kFg0/s1600-h/F1000005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFPmRCvMI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ytISPb3kFg0/s320/F1000005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049596478973197506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3109956849432100061?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3109956849432100061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3109956849432100061' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3109956849432100061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3109956849432100061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/while-doing-bazaar-i-met-old-lady-who.html' title='James!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RhPFO2RCvKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/628WxCs2TSk/s72-c/F1000002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4144768397419352838</id><published>2007-04-02T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T22:51:02.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Married</title><content type='html'>My Dad was in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Best Denki &lt;/span&gt;and he got a call from my sister. She told him she decided to marry her boyfriend! They talked about it for a little while and then she had to go. At the end of the call she said, "Bye Dad, April fool!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4144768397419352838?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4144768397419352838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4144768397419352838' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4144768397419352838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4144768397419352838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/04/getting-married.html' title='Getting Married'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4685400965390576838</id><published>2007-03-19T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T06:24:12.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moofy's Done It Now</title><content type='html'>She's done it now! She cut off my rat tail. I was talking to Aiko and she came up from behind and, SNIP. All gone. And kind of crooked too. I was so angry I cried. I do not believe her. She's never been sorrier in her life, of course. But that doesn't take back my hair.&lt;br /&gt;     Hard as it was, I decided to forgive her for it. After all, her brattish victory was short-lived, because now she sorely regrets it. I feel most sorry for her in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4685400965390576838?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4685400965390576838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4685400965390576838' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4685400965390576838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4685400965390576838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/03/moofys-done-it-now.html' title='Moofy&apos;s Done It Now'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-7199139961305949956</id><published>2007-03-15T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T06:22:01.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyway</title><content type='html'>Steven chose a movie called Layercake. For those fortunate enough to never have seen it, don't. That's right. Never watch Layercake. Steven, I hold you responsible!&lt;br /&gt;     Moofy and I went shopping. Moofy has an April Fool's Day plan to snip my rat tail off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-7199139961305949956?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/7199139961305949956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=7199139961305949956' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7199139961305949956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/7199139961305949956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/03/anyway.html' title='Anyway'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8043901643037557324</id><published>2007-03-07T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T07:12:33.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moofy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Re7WSXl0MrI/AAAAAAAAAG4/exf5ai84AH0/s1600-h/03010043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Re7WSXl0MrI/AAAAAAAAAG4/exf5ai84AH0/s320/03010043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039200644132778674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moofy looking so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8043901643037557324?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8043901643037557324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8043901643037557324' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8043901643037557324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8043901643037557324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/03/moofy.html' title='Moofy'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/Re7WSXl0MrI/AAAAAAAAAG4/exf5ai84AH0/s72-c/03010043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4168370591530762142</id><published>2007-03-07T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T08:26:24.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>60 Seconds</title><content type='html'>Well Sean, Steven and Angelo and I watched 60 seconds. And the some of Mr. Deeds and The Patriot. (Mel Gisbon is so good-looking! He's also a Capricorn...)&lt;br /&gt;That was a funny night...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4168370591530762142?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4168370591530762142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4168370591530762142' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4168370591530762142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4168370591530762142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/03/60-seconds.html' title='60 Seconds'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2899697795283234730</id><published>2007-03-04T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T06:05:48.979-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Vicki and I went and got a haircut contact. We won 4 souls also. Today our 12 Stones student Toshihiko came over and we read the "The Lamp" with him. It's about having a balance and giving time to Jesus, and through doing that you can actually do more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2899697795283234730?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2899697795283234730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2899697795283234730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2899697795283234730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2899697795283234730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-1939991391114273504</id><published>2007-02-27T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T05:34:39.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sean Has Returned!</title><content type='html'>Aneglo, Steven, Sean and I watched "The Gladiator". Sean had never seen it! He cried at least twice, much to Steven's amusment. (OH NO!) It was a rather un-Gladiator atmosphere. We paused every ten or so minutes over nothing and it felt like we were watching a comedy (But I really WAS!)  Must have been the pizza Angelo made. Or maybe the drinks. I think he mixed them. Or maybe it was just Angelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;PS: Aneglo says the music at the end of Gladiator is exceptional. Steven and I didn't notice any difference between that music and that of the rest of the movie (but then again... it was always in contest with Steven's womanly laugh). Is there anyone who can tell me what's so special about it? Or is just Angelo again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-1939991391114273504?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1939991391114273504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/1939991391114273504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/02/sean-has-returned.html' title='Sean Has Returned!'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-2621812045413208302</id><published>2007-02-27T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T12:39:08.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Second Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;David made me think twice about kids. I thought, "Kids now may even me an improvement on what we were at their age, Patty." (He's a Sag, BTW.)  This evening I went to his house for a movie and he did nothing short of attack me! He tried to wrestle me like a maniac! He even managed to get his older brother JP, a very small Aquarian 13-year-old, to join the fun. To think the child near had me hoodwinked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-2621812045413208302?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/2621812045413208302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=2621812045413208302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2621812045413208302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/2621812045413208302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/02/on-second-thoughts.html' title='On Second Thoughts...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-786897432569462376</id><published>2007-02-26T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T08:44:15.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids These Days</title><content type='html'>Kids these days... are actually not as bad as the saying would portray them to be. Steven's younger and cuter brother David knew I like Colin Farrell, so he brought me a photo and stickers of him, apologizing that he couldn't bring more. I was sick so he had to deliver it through the window, but it was definitely the thought that counts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-786897432569462376?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/786897432569462376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=786897432569462376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/786897432569462376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/786897432569462376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/02/kids-these-days.html' title='Kids These Days'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3137346634545086506</id><published>2007-02-26T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T08:38:38.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Know Why...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/ReMMcjB8OwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/piZ7zNnCPHc/s1600-h/DSCF6255.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/ReMMcjB8OwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/piZ7zNnCPHc/s320/DSCF6255.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035882492909599490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this a lovely photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3137346634545086506?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3137346634545086506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3137346634545086506' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3137346634545086506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3137346634545086506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-dont-know-why.html' title='I Don&apos;t Know Why...'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/ReMMcjB8OwI/AAAAAAAAAGs/piZ7zNnCPHc/s72-c/DSCF6255.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-4441678389508579376</id><published>2007-01-27T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T22:44:53.348-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obssession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxGNQWQ6pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/1-hrAOfz5Q4/s1600-h/01190004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxGNQWQ6pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/1-hrAOfz5Q4/s320/01190004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024968477779225234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Reading about JFK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-4441678389508579376?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/4441678389508579376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=4441678389508579376' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4441678389508579376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/4441678389508579376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/01/obssession.html' title='Obssession'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxGNQWQ6pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/1-hrAOfz5Q4/s72-c/01190004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-640758553952724438</id><published>2007-01-27T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T22:37:05.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxEcwWQ6nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/LJ1P9Kjcduo/s1600-h/01010006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxEcwWQ6nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/LJ1P9Kjcduo/s320/01010006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024966545043942002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxEdAWQ6oI/AAAAAAAAAGI/BRnfZrSidZ8/s1600-h/12310014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxEdAWQ6oI/AAAAAAAAAGI/BRnfZrSidZ8/s320/12310014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024966549338909314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-640758553952724438?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/640758553952724438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=640758553952724438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/640758553952724438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/640758553952724438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/01/james.html' title=''/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbxEcwWQ6nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/LJ1P9Kjcduo/s72-c/01010006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-3793414087258410708</id><published>2007-01-27T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T06:27:19.278-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEgWQ6iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tikD4zcq7X4/s1600-h/Angel+w-Fireman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEgWQ6iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tikD4zcq7X4/s320/Angel+w-Fireman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024715439780981282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They are like angels...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEgWQ6jI/AAAAAAAAAFM/bQFj5DvACBA/s1600-h/Courage-Print-C10070134.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEgWQ6jI/AAAAAAAAAFM/bQFj5DvACBA/s320/Courage-Print-C10070134.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024715439780981298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are courageous. Firemen are men of honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6kI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tP60i0dm1_8/s1600-h/fireman_baby_th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6kI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tP60i0dm1_8/s320/fireman_baby_th.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024715444075948610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6lI/AAAAAAAAAFc/OlMr22mbsjc/s1600-h/01hf_104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6lI/AAAAAAAAAFc/OlMr22mbsjc/s320/01hf_104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024715444075948626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have nice bodes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6mI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tDyWk5pV9-c/s1600-h/ladder49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEwWQ6mI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tDyWk5pV9-c/s320/ladder49.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024715444075948642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember frequenting the firestation when I was 7 or 8 years old.I have liked firemen ever since my childhood. Nothing funny.Firemen fascinated me, although I didn't know why then. Now I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friend."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-3793414087258410708?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/3793414087258410708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=3793414087258410708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3793414087258410708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/3793414087258410708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/01/honor.html' title='Honor'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RbtgEgWQ6iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tikD4zcq7X4/s72-c/Angel+w-Fireman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701415353719519013.post-8429753637225372551</id><published>2007-01-26T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T07:00:17.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_AWQ6eI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RDKx253PTm8/s1600-h/goat-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_AWQ6eI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RDKx253PTm8/s320/goat-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024353605966162402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Goats are so cute. Ok, well, maybe this one isn't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_AWQ6fI/AAAAAAAAAEc/nOSTAPLKhOg/s1600-h/baby-goat1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_AWQ6fI/AAAAAAAAAEc/nOSTAPLKhOg/s320/baby-goat1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024353605966162418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_QWQ6gI/AAAAAAAAAEk/IE_7zT0C-ms/s1600-h/baby-goat-resting2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_QWQ6gI/AAAAAAAAAEk/IE_7zT0C-ms/s320/baby-goat-resting2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024353610261129730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_QWQ6hI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lrkBhcZ4b78/s1600-h/black-and-white-baby-goat+%285%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_QWQ6hI/AAAAAAAAAEs/lrkBhcZ4b78/s320/black-and-white-baby-goat+%285%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024353610261129746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6701415353719519013-8429753637225372551?l=gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/feeds/8429753637225372551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6701415353719519013&amp;postID=8429753637225372551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8429753637225372551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6701415353719519013/posts/default/8429753637225372551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gothrings-thesaint.blogspot.com/2007/01/goats.html' title='Goats'/><author><name>Skunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06660262492655489108</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_G-0uz8hLd64/RboW_AWQ6eI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RDKx253PTm8/s72-c/goat-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
