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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QHRH87fyp7ImA9WxBSGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884</id><updated>2009-12-26T11:35:35.107-05:00</updated><title>Qü€€Ñ Øƒ Þ£ÄÑÊ† HÔ† ƒ£Â§H™</title><subtitle type="html">Your Entering The Hot Zone</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>235</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/QHh" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcASX8_cCp7ImA9WxNWFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-3178588054328649493</id><published>2009-10-13T16:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T16:34:08.148-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-13T16:34:08.148-04:00</app:edited><title>Ridin the Crazy Train</title><content type="html">Okay when I last left off  on the tale of the MIL we had a blow up over MIL and ex brother in law asking for money to buy a house, my hubby flipping out ( which he NEVER does) and we left to get some Tylenol for me. While we were out &lt;br /&gt;“getting Tylenol” and my hubby started to mellow out we decided to stay in a hotel that night . I went back in to MIL apartment ex BIL had went somewhere and MIL was on the phone, as I tried to explain to her that we felt it would be better to stay in a hotel so we could discuss what she and Ex BIL had asked us, she just shooed me away and said, “alright!! Alright!! Y’all do what youins want” as she kept on talking, so I took our bags down.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, hubby called MIL next morning and Ex BIL answered and hubby told him sorry but no on the money EX BIL hung up on him.&lt;br /&gt;That’s how it was when we left misery. Fast forward to about a month later MIL called hubby and started talking about this man named Donnie and that they were going to Bingo together. Hubby was quiet and then said, “ What happened to Ex BIL?”  Seems that ex BIL got arrested for attempted molestation of the neighbor girl who is sixteen. But MIL still insisted that,” He didn’t do it, she lied on him.” &lt;br /&gt;But MIL decided that maybe he wasn’t the best choice for a relationship. This decision was made after he asked her to bail him out.&lt;br /&gt;OK, now this man cheated on  her daughter, is her grandchild’s father never gives them or her any money ( but that ain’t his fault..yeah right), is now an alleged child molester but the last straw was bail money?????&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she apologized to hubby and went back to talking about bingo and Donnie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called and said she was coming to visit this Wednesday but then we got another call and the plans have changed because Donnie is taking her to Branson to see Andy Williams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thinkin I like Donnie already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-3178588054328649493?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/3178588054328649493/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=3178588054328649493&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3178588054328649493?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3178588054328649493?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/10/ridin-crazy-train.html" title="Ridin the Crazy Train" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4CRHk_cCp7ImA9WxNWEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-1893914106513161754</id><published>2009-10-08T14:28:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T14:52:45.748-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-08T14:52:45.748-04:00</app:edited><title>Queen's Paradise</title><content type="html">Thank~You everyone for the comments and support I needed it. Hubby supports me but ya know he loves me and doesn't want to rock the boat in the menopause sea haha. But anywayyyy..&lt;br /&gt;We moved two weeks ago and it has lifted my spirits to the max, however,(isn't there always a however or a but?) I moved away from two of my children and three of my grandgirls and that tore at my heart,I also knew it was time for me and my hubby to start a life for us, not that my kids &amp; grands won't still be in our life, but we have been married five years and have never been alone always had a kid in and out. So now the kids have to travel to come in and out and thats okay with everyone because here is where they will travel to, my paradise..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4xWM-Lw3I/AAAAAAAABC8/ZtK3O7g5j_I/s1600-h/5th+Anniversary+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4xWM-Lw3I/AAAAAAAABC8/ZtK3O7g5j_I/s400/5th+Anniversary+011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390300061517988722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4xqS23nCI/AAAAAAAABDE/Pzq5_G7oc-4/s1600-h/5th+Anniversary+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4xqS23nCI/AAAAAAAABDE/Pzq5_G7oc-4/s400/5th+Anniversary+002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390300406695304226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4x9n7KZvI/AAAAAAAABDM/uj8hevrYl3M/s1600-h/5th+Anniversary+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4x9n7KZvI/AAAAAAAABDM/uj8hevrYl3M/s400/5th+Anniversary+043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390300738767972082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss40T65_aBI/AAAAAAAABDU/HT-4YN-Ldww/s1600-h/5th+Anniversary+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss40T65_aBI/AAAAAAAABDU/HT-4YN-Ldww/s400/5th+Anniversary+010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390303320843708434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OUT MY FRONT DOOR, TURN RIGHT WALK 250 FT, THIS IS WHAT YOU SEE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-1893914106513161754?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/1893914106513161754/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=1893914106513161754&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/1893914106513161754?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/1893914106513161754?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/10/queens-paradise.html" title="Queen's Paradise" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Ss4xWM-Lw3I/AAAAAAAABC8/ZtK3O7g5j_I/s72-c/5th+Anniversary+011.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUESHs9eyp7ImA9WxNXF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-7599988244160792203</id><published>2009-10-05T17:41:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T18:53:29.563-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-05T18:53:29.563-04:00</app:edited><title>Mama's melt down at the weddin rehearsal</title><content type="html">My baby married in August. I love her with all my heart and soul after all she is my baby. But she always seems to find ways that hurt my heart,and I am not so sure she is oblivious to the fact that she does it. First she and my ex husbands wife went and picked out her wedding gown without asking me to go with. Granted I live in a different state but if asked I would have swam the Mississippi to be there to help my daughter pick out her wedding dress. All I got though was a text message and a text photo of " here's my wedding dress" Tater also sent a text saying,"Pizzle(name for the ex's wife)went with me and helped me pick it out and co-signed for a credit card for me from this wonderful place,she's a blast to shop with." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried but never said to her how much she hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved on and supported her decisions.Fullfilling her requests for funds for my portion of her wedding expenses. Time for wedding shower, she asked me if I would be opposed to Pizzle being a part of the shower I said,"No it's fine." &lt;br /&gt;Explaination here; I have never told my children not to attend events or ask Pizzle and their Dad not to come to events to soothe my wounded spirit in fact I have always encouraged them to keep in touch with their Dad &amp; Pizzle and invite them to attend all functions. &lt;br /&gt;Okay back to story, I attended the shower, helped set it up and provided food etc. At the shower Pizzle and the ex sat at the front table while myself and my mother were placed in the back of the room. I did not want to cause a fuss by stating that I thought it would be nice for the brides mother and grandmother to sit in the front so we might participate in the gift opening and other events. In the back we sat, we were not introduced to any of the grooms extended family by my daughter as a matter of fact the grooms mother and grandmother sat with Pizzle &amp; ex at the front table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I cried later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the rehearsal, we are all lined up for the first practice session, we walk down and are placed in the front row, we sit down (we meaning my dear loving hubby), then Pizzle comes walking down and sits down next to me in the front row....okay here it comes she then looks at me and turns her back to me....as if I should not even be there for my daughters wedding. She Snubs ME!!&lt;br /&gt;I broke, I couldn't take it any longer, and I stood up and said oh but HELL NO !! not yelling but to my hubby and walked out of the rehearsal. I went outside and sat on a bench in order to collect myself. I wanted to talk to Tater after they finished the run through, I was going to request that I not have to sit beside Pizzle during MY daughter's wedding. But my sweet Tater threw a hissy fit and started screaming at me," I knew you were going to do this and ruin my wedding." I tried to settle her down by explaining my point of view. I tried to tell her I realized it was her day and her wedding but I just could not sit next to that woman during her wedding.She just kept screaming at me that I always ruined everything. Okay thats when I fell apart, you see I have spoiled Tater, I have given her everything she ever wanted or needed because I felt guilty about the divorce even though he was the one that left. I encouraged her to go visit him, to spend holidays with him, I encouraged her in sports drove her to tournaments, bought her prom dresses, shoes, make-up, hair well you get the picture, I bought them out of money donated by my hubby not my ex husband. I admit it I catered to her every wish and whim I CREATED THIS. when Tater started noticing that hubby and I didn't have the funds for the bigger things she wanted she started spending more time with her Dad &amp; Pizzle, see Pizzle never had children and her family is well off, one of the reasons my ex told me to my face that he left me for her. Pizzle and Tater started going shopping together when she went to visit them, I never said anything, her Dad &amp; Pizzle bought her a used car, which she did need because mean old me told her she had to get a job. After the car my baby started using money manipulation,Ie: Dad can get it for me YOU don't have to. She even once said to me you know the child support you get well it should go to me after all it is FOR ME right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay anyways back to the rehersal I melted down and cried, my father even got involved it, turned into a yelling and crying session between myself, Tater and my father. NOT PRETTY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tater and I talked it out afterwards...Pizzle was moved to sit with grooms family in front row. However, she (Tater) has spoken to me twice since the wedding even though I have made attempts. She has told her sisters she is upset that hubby &amp; I did not give them a monetary wedding gift even though we spent close to $4000 on wedding expenses. We have still to get a thank you from her or her new husband. Not that I need a thank you but the effort would have been nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my peeps am I in the wrong for feeling the way I did about Pizzle at the rehersal? Should I have just sat there and sucked it up as I always had done before? I want your honest opinions about this. I asked and I can take it..no fits..honest.. I am on meds I'm mellow &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-7599988244160792203?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/7599988244160792203/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=7599988244160792203&amp;isPopup=true" title="13 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/7599988244160792203?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/7599988244160792203?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/10/mamas-melt-down-at-weddin-rehersal.html" title="Mama's melt down at the weddin rehearsal" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">13</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QBRno7eip7ImA9WxNXFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-5297839085670960418</id><published>2009-10-04T17:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T17:22:37.402-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-04T17:22:37.402-04:00</app:edited><title>Comes sliding in full of Piss n Vinegar</title><content type="html">Four months!!!! Four friggin months, did she vanish from the face of the earth? Noooo but I am sure there are some that crossed their fingers and toes wishing hahaha. I am back living in a new location, feeling 110% better and working on life in general.&lt;br /&gt;Tater got married end of August I had a hormonal breakdown which I will relate in another post. Moved to Florida and L-O-V-I-N-G it!!! Okay I hafta do somethings but more tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS ANYONE STILL READING ???? Waving Helloooo&lt;br /&gt;Gonna catch up on all my missed readings soon too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-5297839085670960418?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/5297839085670960418/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=5297839085670960418&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5297839085670960418?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5297839085670960418?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/10/comes-sliding-in-full-of-piss-n-vinegar.html" title="Comes sliding in full of Piss n Vinegar" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAFRXY7fCp7ImA9WxJWEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-5490411198073891815</id><published>2009-06-15T13:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T13:41:54.804-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-15T13:41:54.804-04:00</app:edited><title>Geessshhh she's here then she's NOT</title><content type="html">Sorry about that, I quit in the middle of my MIL Drama but ..I had back surgery, I have degenerative disc disease and I fell in the winter and surgery now, I shall be back as the famous words were said .. feeling better, able to move around more, drugs are awesome..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-5490411198073891815?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/5490411198073891815/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=5490411198073891815&amp;isPopup=true" title="19 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5490411198073891815?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5490411198073891815?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/06/geessshhh-shes-here-then-shes-not.html" title="Geessshhh she's here then she's NOT" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">19</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEEQH09cSp7ImA9WxJQFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-6350792222847269626</id><published>2009-05-28T07:26:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T08:26:41.369-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-28T08:26:41.369-04:00</app:edited><title>After a handful of Blood Pressure pills and some Tequilia..</title><content type="html">I couldn't believe what I was hearing as I walked out of the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to explain why my hubby tolerates his "mother's" behavior the way he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, my hubby was abandoned as a child. His grandparents who were old old at the time came to the house where hubby, his brother and their sperm donor &amp;amp; egg supplier (for the lack of better names for people that would abandon children) lived, to get the boys, after a neighbor called and said the boys had been alone for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grandparents raised the boys for a couple years but they were getting really old and couldn't handle raising 2 hell raising boys. So social services was called and the boys were placed in foster care. One was placed with their maternal aunt, my hubby was placed with a complete stranger, because the maternal aunt did not want them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, my husband lived in foster care for almost four years, when his father and his new wife (MIL) showed up to get hubby. After going through the channels MIL adopted hubby, his brother chose not to be adopted and has not kept in touch with his family. Anyways, not too long after he was adopted by MIL, hubby's sperm donor left MIL. MIL raised hubby even after the sperm donor disappeared from their life. They did not have anything. MIL often had to go to food pantry and salvation army but she still raised hubby and SIL. Hubby said as they were growing up since his mother didn't cook, she would go to food pantry and take the food over to her best friends house, the best friend would cook almost every meal. They even lived for a while with the friend, even today hubby sends birthday cards to that friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hubby is surprisingly even tempered, fun, loving, warm and basically happy man despite his childhood. His "mother" has always been eccentric but not in a harmful way, just in a bizzare way, does that make sense? I hope so, because I don't know how else to describe her, other than what you all who have been reading for a while know about her, she's unique in her own "special" way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, MIL was patting hubby's hand and ex BIL patted his shoulder, he looked at me with his fourteen shades of red upon his face, then at MIL and said," What the hell is wrong with your head?" His mother looked at him as if he had slapped her face. MIL said," Now youngin don't you be speakin at me that way." Hubby said," oh !!!( surprised look on face) I can't speak to you but you can ask me for money!!! That son of a bitch sits on his ass all day and does nothing!!! First, he knocks up my sister then leaves her with his kid and hooks up with my mother to sponge off her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then BIL made the fatal error of trying to speak." Now don't you be..." Hubby turned and looked at him and said," You better shut your mouth right now Jim Jam ( not his real name but close) or I will knock what's left of your friggin teeth down your friggin throat, you friggin piece of shit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY, my mouth fell open, I am still standing in the hallway outside the bathroom door and thinking to myself, self, you just walked into the twilight zone, the world had to have changed in the two minutes you used the restroom. My husband never looses his temper and especially with his crazy mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As ex- BIL stood up and as hubby stood and MIL grabbed her walking cane to stand I rushed over and said, "we're going to town I need tylenol." MIL says," I got tylenol" I responded with "yeah but nothing strong to wash it down with" as I was dragging hubby out the door. Hubby was cussing under his breath and I could hear ex BIL telling MIL that hubby shouldn't be talking to him" thata way cuz I was bein nice by not throwin him a punch." MIL was yellin at ex- BIL,&lt;br /&gt;"what the hell is the matter with you now we ain't gettin nothin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah there's more.... I have to stop, going through it once was bad, but to write it down...geeessshh..but this is my hubby's family, I don't have to love them, but I do love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-6350792222847269626?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/6350792222847269626/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=6350792222847269626&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6350792222847269626?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6350792222847269626?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/05/after-handful-of-blood-pressure-pills.html" title="After a handful of Blood Pressure pills and some Tequilia.." /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QMR3g6fSp7ImA9WxJQFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-9031093690939138750</id><published>2009-05-26T13:49:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T09:03:06.615-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-27T09:03:06.615-04:00</app:edited><title>Wandering the past 2 weeks in a delirious state</title><content type="html">Well, the Queen has ventured to a planet, so far beyond her planethotflash and she has witnessed behavior that has changed her soul.&lt;br /&gt;We visited MIL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIL called and ask that hubby and I come to her home ASAP&lt;br /&gt;I looked at hubby and asked do I hafta, yeah I actually said hafta.&lt;br /&gt;He looked back at me lovingly and said, " No *sigh* you really don't *sigh* have to go but I *sigh* should, she sounded like she was having some problems *sigh*."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After searching my life for a plausible excuse, I could not find one, so I responded," No, *sigh* I wouldn't do that to you my love *sigh*"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off we went to Misery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arrival there she stood, at the entryway of her apartment complex, in a Jean skirt, red flip flops and a halter with big orange flowers, My MIL, waving to park in the back because the old people need the front spaces. So we parked a block away and hubby hauled the luggage to her apartment.&lt;br /&gt;On our way up, we were introduced to anyone that would stand still long enough to say hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the apartment the temperature had to be at least 80 with no air or fans on. And low and be hold, there sat ex brother-in-law in gym shorts, no shirt and watching the Goonies. I looked at hubby and he ignored my looks.&lt;br /&gt;Since there was only one bedroom in MIL apartment, which hubby assumed we would have, because MIL as in the past would sleep on the sofa because she always insisted we stay with her, anyway she explained since ex B-I-L would be "sleepin thar" we would have to make a pallet on the floor of the living room. So hubby told her we would stay in a hotel and she started bawling a storm and said that her son wouldn't even spend time at home with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, Yeah, drama queen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, hubby felt guilty for making her cry, said we would stay one night with her and the next night at a hotel. The well dried up then. He whispered to me that I could have the couch and he would do the floor, I looked sideways at him and said you bet your sweet ass, then smiled.&lt;br /&gt;Then MIL asked what we would like her to order for dinner. She doesn't cook, never, ever, my hubby said she never cooked anything when he was young either,after great debate pizza was decided on. While waiting for dinner to arrive, we had the astute privilege of listening to ex b-i-l explain to hubby about his relationship with MIL. He began his lecture series with, how hubby shouldn't have," no hard fellins" and that he (ex b-i-l) was going to " take right good kair of her." I had to go use the restroom because I was sure that the "you don't have to call me Daddy" speech was next. As I came out of the bathroom, I couldn't believe what was actually being said by that fool ( ex B-I-L) , no it wasn't about marriage and no it wasn't about being hubby's daddy. It was this,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Mama and I wanna buy us a house and we was wonderin if you all could loan us the down payment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby's face turned fourteen, yes there are fourteen, shades of red. His mother said," now honey, we know you got it and we ain't, so we figured you'd wanna help us get up on our feet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-9031093690939138750?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/9031093690939138750/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=9031093690939138750&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/9031093690939138750?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/9031093690939138750?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/05/wandering-past-2-weeks-in-delirious.html" title="Wandering the past 2 weeks in a delirious state" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MCRncyfip7ImA9WxJSGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-2589216169043820791</id><published>2009-05-10T09:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T09:17:47.996-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-10T09:17:47.996-04:00</app:edited><title>Happy Mother's Day !!!</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zwani.com/graphics/mothers_day/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="zwani.com myspace graphic comments" src="http://images.zwani.com/graphics/mothers_day/images/1-mothers-day-80.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zwani.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hope your day is filled with love, laughter and smiles&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-2589216169043820791?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/2589216169043820791/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=2589216169043820791&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2589216169043820791?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2589216169043820791?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day.html" title="Happy Mother's Day !!!" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQGSXo_eSp7ImA9WxJSGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-7369137312798460168</id><published>2009-05-09T14:43:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T15:12:08.441-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-09T15:12:08.441-04:00</app:edited><title>How NOT to Answer a Jury summons</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SgXUh_EAoTI/AAAAAAAABC0/TBQ1mA0hzVw/s1600-h/jury1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 396px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 519px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333903014019244338" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SgXUh_EAoTI/AAAAAAAABC0/TBQ1mA0hzVw/s400/jury1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the Whole Story here... the dumbass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2009/0430091jury1.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-7369137312798460168?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/7369137312798460168/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=7369137312798460168&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/7369137312798460168?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/7369137312798460168?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-not-to-answer-jury-summons.html" title="How NOT to Answer a Jury summons" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SgXUh_EAoTI/AAAAAAAABC0/TBQ1mA0hzVw/s72-c/jury1.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4ESXg8eip7ImA9WxJTGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-3378886850806097853</id><published>2009-04-27T10:54:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T11:58:28.672-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-27T11:58:28.672-04:00</app:edited><title>A View From My Front Door..</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SfXMF53Q78I/AAAAAAAABCU/WfROO8UROVE/s1600-h/couple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 109px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329390135866879938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SfXMF53Q78I/AAAAAAAABCU/WfROO8UROVE/s400/couple.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby and I were sitting out on our porch enjoying the warm Kentucky sunshine. I was reading the Sookie Stackhouse books and my husband looking at the newspaper. When our elderly neighbor, a man who delights in tormenting the neighborhood by being the king of blight. Not only that he drinks and parks his pickup sideways in the street with the doors open, hangs the United States flag upside down, ( which makes my husband, a vet, so pissed off he goes over when the man is away and hangs it upright) decided to take a shit in his front yard.&lt;br /&gt;Oh but it gets better, he decided to make sure someone was watching namely us, he looked out across the street his hand above his eyes to block the sun, looked directly at us and proceeded to undo his pants. My hubby noticed him first, Hubby said, Tell me that son of a bitch is not going to flash us and just then I look up to see this fellow drop his boxers and squat. I couldn't say anything... for me that is something, the man took a huge shit in the front yard, wipe his ass with a cloth and jumped up pulled up his pants and stuck the fucking cloth in his pocket. My hubby was pissed beyond words he yelled at him what a sick fucker he was and the man just waved at him.&lt;br /&gt;My hubby called the police they asked alot of question but it boiled down to we will patrol more often and keep an eye on him crap. Mean while our neighborhood get to see him use his front yard as a toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhhhhh life in paradise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-3378886850806097853?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/3378886850806097853/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=3378886850806097853&amp;isPopup=true" title="18 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3378886850806097853?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3378886850806097853?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/view-from-my-front-door.html" title="A View From My Front Door.." /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SfXMF53Q78I/AAAAAAAABCU/WfROO8UROVE/s72-c/couple.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">18</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4BQXc8fSp7ImA9WxJTE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-964012314680554269</id><published>2009-04-22T06:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:42:30.975-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-22T06:42:30.975-04:00</app:edited><title>This isn't the Ritz ~You Don't Like it... Don't Come Back!</title><content type="html">Sheriff Joe Arpaio (in Arizona) is doing it RIGHT!! He has jail meals down to 40 cents a serving and charges the inmates for them. He stopped smoking and porno magazines in the jails. Took away their weights. Cut off all but "G" movies. He started chain gangs so the inmates could do free work on county and city projects. Then he started chain gangs for women so he wouldn't get sued for discrimination.&lt;br /&gt;He took away cable TV until he found out there was a federal court order that required cable TV for jails. So he hooked up the cable TV again but only let in the Disney channel and the weather channel. When asked why the weather channel he replied, so they will know how hot it's gonna be while they are working on my chain gangs.&lt;br /&gt;He cut off coffee since it has zero nutritional value. When the inmates complained, he told them.....this is a good one......"This isn't the Ritz/Carlton. If you don't like it, don't come back."&lt;br /&gt;He bought Newt Gingrich's lecture series on videotape that he pipes into the jails.&lt;br /&gt;More on the AZ Sheriff:&lt;br /&gt;With temperatures being even hotter than usual in Phoenix (116 degrees just set a new record), the Associated Press reports:&lt;br /&gt;About 2,000 inmates living in a barbed-wire-surrounded tent encampment at the Maricopa County Jail have been given permission to strip down to&lt;br /&gt;their government-issued pink boxer shorts. On Wednesday, hundreds of men wearing boxers were either curled up on their bunk beds or chatted in the tents, which reached 138 degrees inside the week before. Many were also swathed in wet, pink towels as sweat collected on their chests and dripped down to their pink socks. "It feels like we are in a furnace," said James Zanzot, an inmate who has lived in the tents for 1 1/2 years. "It's inhumane."&lt;br /&gt;Joe Arpaio, the tough-guy sheriff who created the tent city and long ago started making his prisoners wear pink, and eat bologna sandwiches, is&lt;br /&gt;not one bit sympathetic He said Wednesday that he told all of the inmates: "It's 120 degrees in Iraq and our soldiers are living in tents too, and&lt;br /&gt;they have to wear full battle gear, but they didn't commit any crimes... so shut your damned mouths."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copied from Local Kentucky Newspaper, after complaints about local jail facility was brought to the news, this article was then reprinted in the newspaper and then officials from the jail distributed the article amongst the prisoners in the local jail, complaints have been withdrawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-964012314680554269?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/964012314680554269/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=964012314680554269&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/964012314680554269?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/964012314680554269?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-isnt-ritz-you-dont-like-it-dont.html" title="This isn't the Ritz ~You Don't Like it... Don't Come Back!" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEGSHkyeip7ImA9WxJTE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-5657867790648160548</id><published>2009-04-21T18:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T18:40:29.792-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-21T18:40:29.792-04:00</app:edited><title>Do Your Boobs Hang Low?</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Se5K_9XtB4I/AAAAAAAABCM/N_k3d3KyOXg/s1600-h/funny2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327277871892072322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Se5K_9XtB4I/AAAAAAAABCM/N_k3d3KyOXg/s400/funny2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-5657867790648160548?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/5657867790648160548/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=5657867790648160548&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5657867790648160548?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5657867790648160548?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-your-boobs-hang-low.html" title="Do Your Boobs Hang Low?" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/Se5K_9XtB4I/AAAAAAAABCM/N_k3d3KyOXg/s72-c/funny2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EHRn85eCp7ImA9WxVaGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-6661481856555673865</id><published>2009-04-17T12:12:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:27:17.120-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-17T12:27:17.120-04:00</app:edited><title>Whose willing to be Lil Ms. Tampax for a 2 year Supply and 100 Bucks?</title><content type="html">My granddaughter came home with an application to a talent/ beauty contest the other day. Now if you have talent does the beauty part get canceled? or if you have beauty does the talent part get canceled? Anyways, she did the ohhhh pluuuueeeeeezzzeeee Mom thing as my daughter read the fine print. In big bold letters was the the amount YOU pay to enter your child which was 50.00 and what was required for the child to participate, a dress and something to perform. Okay, so far one might have to put out 100 or so dollars just for the child to perform in this contest. At the bottom of the sheet of paper was what the child would win... A 2 year supply of tampons, 100.00 dollars and the right to brag that she is Little Ms. Tampax.... this was sent home with little girls in the K- 5th grades.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-6661481856555673865?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/6661481856555673865/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=6661481856555673865&amp;isPopup=true" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6661481856555673865?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6661481856555673865?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/whose-willing-to-be-ms-tampax-for-2.html" title="Whose willing to be Lil Ms. Tampax for a 2 year Supply and 100 Bucks?" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQERXY7fCp7ImA9WxVaGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-2001716115318405958</id><published>2009-04-15T16:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T16:45:04.804-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-15T16:45:04.804-04:00</app:edited><title>Who Farted at the Funeral</title><content type="html">A friend of the family passed away a couple weeks ago. we attended the funeral, it was beautiful the flowers were fragrant, the casket was a gorgeous white with pink tinge, our friend would have loved it. There were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;approximately&lt;/span&gt; 75 people in attendance, two close friends sang her favorite songs, Friends were asked to speak, we all sat enthralled with her last speaker. This friend told stories of their childhood, being teenagers and of cheerleading in high school as she was speaking she began to laugh at parts of her story, as she laughed she farted, not little lady like fluffs, but big ole rolling farts that took over the room. She pretended she was not the one letting them rip but with every laugh came the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;odoriferous&lt;/span&gt; smell, finally she was finished and so were we, the smell over took the flowers and made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; stomach turn. People could not get out of that room fast enough to get outside to oxygen. Most people even passed up the last visit to the casket to say good bye because of the rank smell. The guest speaker friend, well she walked amongst everyone shaking hands and acting as if she her ass didn't omit odors of a sewage treatment plant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-2001716115318405958?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/2001716115318405958/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=2001716115318405958&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2001716115318405958?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2001716115318405958?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/who-farted-at-funeral.html" title="Who Farted at the Funeral" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04GQHg6eCp7ImA9WxVaFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-2184658990304464064</id><published>2009-04-13T17:43:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:58:41.610-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-13T17:58:41.610-04:00</app:edited><title>Because I was high...</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I had a back procedure done last Thursday, they gave me some great dope in my IV, when I got home I was hallucinating,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I yelled at my husband not to call me a transvestite&lt;br /&gt;I heard birds in my house&lt;br /&gt;there were three small people standing beside my sofa pointing at me (no not the grands) they were men with those winter hats on ya know the kind with the flaps and they were wearing shorts with T-shirts and suspenders all kept saying looky there looky there&lt;br /&gt;I told my husband that I would f**k Sam Elliott in a heartbeat&lt;br /&gt;Then went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno.. go ahead diagnose me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-2184658990304464064?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/2184658990304464064/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=2184658990304464064&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2184658990304464064?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/2184658990304464064?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-had-back-procedure-done-last-thursday.html" title="Because I was high..." /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8EQ307eCp7ImA9WxVaFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-8690106224861197</id><published>2009-04-13T14:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T14:53:22.300-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-13T14:53:22.300-04:00</app:edited><title>HELLLLOOOOOOO IS ANYONE STILL THERE??</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SeOHi49L0YI/AAAAAAAABCE/mbbh1LkgyRw/s1600-h/18update.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324248217956372866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 381px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 338px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SeOHi49L0YI/AAAAAAAABCE/mbbh1LkgyRw/s400/18update.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back..wooohooooo...yeAH, um I have some bloggin to do ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8297815537723204884-8690106224861197?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/8690106224861197/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=8690106224861197&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/8690106224861197?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/8690106224861197?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/04/hellllooooooo-is-anyone-still-there.html" title="HELLLLOOOOOOO IS ANYONE STILL THERE??" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SeOHi49L0YI/AAAAAAAABCE/mbbh1LkgyRw/s72-c/18update.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAARXw6fSp7ImA9WxVVEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-3639456427576916453</id><published>2009-03-04T20:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:32:24.215-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-04T20:32:24.215-05:00</app:edited><title>Taking a Break</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I'll Be Back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to finish this semester, it's a bitch... to all my blogging buddies I am sorry I haven't visited lately I will be stopping in an visiting occasionally just so y'all don't forget about me and to keep track of whats happening with your lives. Cuz I care about y'all my internet friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-3639456427576916453?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/3639456427576916453/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=3639456427576916453&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3639456427576916453?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3639456427576916453?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/03/taking-break.html" title="Taking a Break" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQARnk7fCp7ImA9WxVWFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-3903561772477287429</id><published>2009-02-25T17:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T22:02:27.704-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-25T22:02:27.704-05:00</app:edited><title>The Beverly Hillbillies Take a Cruise</title><content type="html">The Cruise ship docked in Cozumel Mexico and let those who wanted to spend the day there to sight see, shop or whatever,they were to be back at the ship at 3:00. MIL , her sisters, their husbands and the ex brother in law got off the ship. The group decided to have lunch first then sight see and buy some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;souvenirs&lt;/span&gt;, everyone in the group except MIL of course. MIL want to go sight seeing and then eat, well ex- brother-in-law sided with the sisters and this pissed MIL off so she went stomping off by herself. Her sisters were worried about her being kidnapped or something but that didn't make them not want to do their own thing. So they all had lunch and off MIL went by herself.&lt;br /&gt;2:30- Ex BIL was at the boat, 2:45- sisters were at the boat, still no MIL, 3:00 rolls around an they find the director and tell him that MIL still was not back. They sent people to nearby restaurants to see if she was there and just forgot the time. NOPE no MIL. 3:20 still no MIL, they started discussing checking with the local police, when here comes MIL hauling six bags from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WALMART&lt;/span&gt;. Seems MIL decided she didn't like the food that the cruise ship offered so she found a man to give her a ride to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WALMART&lt;/span&gt;. A total stranger in COZUMEL MEXICO GAVE MY CRAZY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ASSED&lt;/span&gt; MIL A RIDE TO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WALMART&lt;/span&gt;. What did she get? bologna, bread, granola bars, cheese curls, corn pads, 2 towels and some T-shirts that said I Cruised Mexico on them.&lt;br /&gt;Her sisters were mad at her, she didn't see where she did anything to put anyone else out. Ex- brother-in-law grabbed the bag with the shirts and asked her why she didn't get a bigger size for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-3903561772477287429?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/3903561772477287429/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=3903561772477287429&amp;isPopup=true" title="19 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3903561772477287429?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/3903561772477287429?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/beverly-hillbillies-take-cruise.html" title="The Beverly Hillbillies Take a Cruise" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">19</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQARns_eyp7ImA9WxVWFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-6880755715289003705</id><published>2009-02-23T19:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T07:19:07.543-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-25T07:19:07.543-05:00</app:edited><title>MIL MILK CARTON ALERT</title><content type="html">Okay guess whose MIL would take a cruise to Mexico and then wander off putting everyone into a panic... Guess where she was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Your answer will be posted this Evening, I am amazed at her being either very nieve or ignorant, I am not quite sure which.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-6880755715289003705?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/6880755715289003705/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=6880755715289003705&amp;isPopup=true" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6880755715289003705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6880755715289003705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/mil-milk-carton-alert.html" title="MIL MILK CARTON ALERT" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHQHo7fSp7ImA9WxVWE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-1697854277636829222</id><published>2009-02-22T09:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T09:18:51.405-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-22T09:18:51.405-05:00</app:edited><title>I Want to Know Who is Writing That Crap</title><content type="html">There is a commercial on TV right now that is beyond stupid, some woman with arm pit hair blowing in the face of a man while they are riding a bike made for two. This commercial makes every one's IQ drop when it comes on the screen and not only that it is friggin disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know what company pays idiots to create these commercials. I mean I want to get the money those morons make. I have thousands of stupid, idiotic ideas that they could use for commercials and I would be willing to profit from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am just too bitchy to find the humor in this commercial. What do you all think about these commercials?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIL Story ALERT!!!!!! This week I promise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-1697854277636829222?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/1697854277636829222/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=1697854277636829222&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/1697854277636829222?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/1697854277636829222?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-want-to-know-who-is-writing-that-crap.html" title="I Want to Know Who is Writing That Crap" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4DQXg-cSp7ImA9WxVXFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-467770884241300611</id><published>2009-02-14T22:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T22:36:10.659-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-14T22:36:10.659-05:00</app:edited><title>*Sigh* He Continues to make my heart flutter</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SZeMq0wmMWI/AAAAAAAABBs/iUSFNSRH_wY/s1600-h/V_day+Flowers+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302861753596916066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SZeMq0wmMWI/AAAAAAAABBs/iUSFNSRH_wY/s400/V_day+Flowers+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I walked in the door and this is what was waiting for me, along with Godiva chocolate covered strawberries. I know some women say, they don't want to spend the money on flowers because they wilt, I went for 25 years with a man that wouldn't pick a dandelion for me, to a man who thinks I deserve these and more ... I am so Blessed to have him love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-467770884241300611?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/467770884241300611/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=467770884241300611&amp;isPopup=true" title="21 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/467770884241300611?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/467770884241300611?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/sigh-he-continues-to-make-my-heart.html" title="*Sigh* He Continues to make my heart flutter" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SZeMq0wmMWI/AAAAAAAABBs/iUSFNSRH_wY/s72-c/V_day+Flowers+001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYMSXc-fCp7ImA9WxVXFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-8189366136862022377</id><published>2009-02-12T17:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T17:19:48.954-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-12T17:19:48.954-05:00</app:edited><title>Crap I get in my E-mail</title><content type="html">I hate to look at my e-mail anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I made the sad mistake of subscribing to a woman's forum site and now I get more than my share of stupid e-mails. I get enticing advertisements for Big Boobs, Big hooters, Big floppers (yes floppers) claiming I need to “enhance” my tiny man breasts. I hit delete. And move on to the next miracle, Penis enhancers; these include ointments, rubs, stretchers, hangers, pullers, electronic, battery powered and a magnifying glass. I feel this way, honey if its too small sorry tough luck, if it’s too big stay away from me. I am like goldilocks I want it just right.&lt;br /&gt;And what is with the deal with wanting to have a huge ass now? Just because some celebrity has one? There are advertisements now for Butt enhancement procedures to make you have that wide ass you have always wished for? There’s a secret to having a wide ass ladies, sit on it a lot, eat a lot. And before you know it, you too can have that fantastic wide ass without surgical enhancement. And next question is how big is too big for an ass? I guess I am out of the loop of things all these years I have wanted a smaller ass. Hey! Wait a minute, I am the queen of large asses I fit right into style now. Enough of the e-mails, time to relax and listen to some good music and have a glass of wine and ponder life’s little surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-8189366136862022377?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/8189366136862022377/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=8189366136862022377&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/8189366136862022377?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/8189366136862022377?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/crap-i-get-in-my-e-mail.html" title="Crap I get in my E-mail" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQERnk8eip7ImA9WxVXE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-232910606381306318</id><published>2009-02-09T08:02:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T18:25:07.772-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-10T18:25:07.772-05:00</app:edited><title>They have kids for the money.. *To the tune of she works hard for the money*</title><content type="html">APPARENTLY THE NEW FAD THESE DAYS IS... LETS SEE HOW MANY BABIES WE CAN HAVE AND HOW MUCH STUFF WE CAN GET FOR HAVING THEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I know what they all say, we love children and it is our duty, our convictions and blah blah blah but what the hell??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it's is the obsessive compulsive Kate having the six and running her poor belittled husband into the ground with insults and bitchiness that not even a single child father would put up with let alone a man who has a bitch for a wife plus eight kids. BUT then again he gets all the good shit too. He gets to travel ( even if it is with all the brats and the bitch) to Hawaii, gets a new vehicle, get hair plugs and a new house all for free....I hope his psychiatric bill is paid for too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you got the baby machine Michelle Duggar who smiles and is just a happy friggin camper, I'm thinking shes on Prozac and doesn't even know shes human. They built this enormous house and just to help out the family all the designing and furniture etc was GIVEN to them, because you know how expensive 17 kids can be. The Duggar family got a trip across the United States, a tour Bus, a trip to Florida and ole JimBob manage to get Michelle off on their own for an anniversary trip and guess what the horny Ba***ard got her knocked up again. The older children"help" raise the younger children because after all Michelle and JimBob hardly come out of the bedroom and when they do they are worn out from screwin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there is this woman who already has six children in a three bedroom house and has had eight babies through invitro, Lady you need a husband to help you out! Who else are you gonna harass and make feel like they are beneath you? Just get together with Kate she will set you straight. The same day as the lady with eight newborns got out of the hospital she was on talk shows, she's working hard for some money, gifts, bigger house, HELP. This anonymous woman has not worked in a years but gets money through disability, yeah she is disabled from chasing all those kids imagine what the hell she is going to be like now. I am thinking she's hoping that Pampers and, oh lets say, Ellen, will come through with some big old gifts of diapers for life and four washing machines. Since this woman is single wonder if she dates? Can you picture her being on a singles site, lady seeking partner for life, fun, vivacious and has 14 kids under 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having children is a gift and now I am not saying that these people do not love their children or recognize them as gifts but they certainly have made a side show out of the family and the children are like the freaks that everyone stares at and watch and to me, that's a damn shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-232910606381306318?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/232910606381306318/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=232910606381306318&amp;isPopup=true" title="21 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/232910606381306318?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/232910606381306318?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/they-have-kids-for-money-to-tune-of-she.html" title="They have kids for the money.. *To the tune of she works hard for the money*" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMRnw_cCp7ImA9WxVQGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-6707706344710803134</id><published>2009-02-06T20:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T20:28:07.248-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-06T20:28:07.248-05:00</app:edited><title>Tired of SNOW</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SYzjdjMJujI/AAAAAAAABBk/GP-_2dnbgis/s1600-h/snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299860958310152754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SYzjdjMJujI/AAAAAAAABBk/GP-_2dnbgis/s400/snow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-6707706344710803134?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/6707706344710803134/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=6707706344710803134&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6707706344710803134?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/6707706344710803134?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/tired-of-snow.html" title="Tired of SNOW" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VY7pvLBT8tU/SYzjdjMJujI/AAAAAAAABBk/GP-_2dnbgis/s72-c/snow.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8MRns8cSp7ImA9WxVQF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8297815537723204884.post-5434566486241108305</id><published>2009-02-04T19:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T19:48:07.579-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-04T19:48:07.579-05:00</app:edited><title>When It Ices I fall down</title><content type="html">I have not made any blog posts because I have a hard time sitting for too long to check anyones or to write. I fell on my ass outside of krogers, not good, sore ass, bad attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/390/4454E3B483214778A29CD90FED6A4149.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8297815537723204884-5434566486241108305?l=planethotflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/feeds/5434566486241108305/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8297815537723204884&amp;postID=5434566486241108305&amp;isPopup=true" title="20 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5434566486241108305?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8297815537723204884/posts/default/5434566486241108305?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://planethotflash.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-it-ices-i-fall-down.html" title="When It Ices I fall down" /><author><name>QueenofPlanetHotflash</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02110409150316105685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13414223029831501450" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">20</thr:total></entry></feed>
