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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:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUGRng8cCp7ImA9WhdTEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:20:27.678-04:00</updated><category term="Parking" /><category term="Cars" /><category term="L-isms" /><category term="Daycares that go &quot;Boo&quot;" /><category term="Robots" /><category term="Days Past" /><category term="Naturally Funny" /><category term="I Was Active Once" /><category term="Technology" /><category term="Bad Driver Phenotypes" /><category term="Travelling Adventures" /><category term="My Quirky Life" /><category term="Animals" /><category term="Economics" /><category term="SUVs" /><category term="Dogs" /><category term="Hoolie the Cat" /><category term="Breakfast" /><category term="Essay Contest Submission" /><category term="Fatherhood" /><category term="Humorous Observations" /><category term="Hotels" /><category term="Appliances" /><category term="Stupid People" /><category term="Computer" /><category term="Garbage" /><category term="Blogging about Blogging" /><category term="Commercials" /><category term="Medicine" /><category term="Deltoids" /><category term="Jacuzzi" /><category term="Halloween" /><category term="Shopping" /><category term="In the News" /><category term="365 Projects" /><category term="Work" /><category term="Fiction" /><category term="Nicknames" /><category term="Personal Hygiene" /><category term="neighbors" /><category term="Hot Dogs" /><category term="Chocolate" /><category term="Business Ideas" /><category term="The Mommy" /><category term="Signs" /><category term="Kreativ Blogger Award" /><category term="Hair Gel" /><category term="Follicly Challenged" /><category term="Wicked Smahht Kids" /><category term="Toys" /><category term="Crime Fighting" /><category term="Doctors" /><category term="Feet" /><category term="The House" /><category term="My Coffee Addiction" /><category term="Fast Food" /><category term="Commuter Hell" /><category term="Kitchens are not just for Cooking" /><category term="Bob the Builder" /><category term="Fiction But Inspired By A True Story" /><category term="Furniture" /><category term="Seafood" /><category term="Valentine's Day" /><category term="Restaurants" /><category term="Bugs" /><category term="Chapter One" /><category term="Ice Cream" /><category term="Cops" /><category term="Snow" /><category term="San Francisco" /><category term="Driving" /><category term="gardening" /><category term="Fun with Food" /><category term="The Yard" /><category term="Blue Eyes" /><category term="Barack Obama" /><category term="Movies" /><category term="Sports" /><category term="Mac and Cheese" /><title>Sandbox for my Inner Humorist</title><subtitle type="html">I find humor in everyday life. This is a forum in which I hope to share this humorist's perspective on the world. It's a sandbox. Sometimes I will build a big beautiful sand-castle. And sometimes, I might just throw sand at you and hope you don't tell your mom.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>188</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/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist" /><feedburner:info uri="sandboxformyinnerhumorist" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cCSXo7cCp7ImA9WxBVGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-528658951544840296</id><published>2010-02-22T09:32:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T10:04:28.408-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T10:04:28.408-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Driving" /><title>Why Santa Can Never Retire to Florida</title><summary type="html">My car has a built-in compass, but I find it quite dangerous to be constantly looking down at it's needle on the console. Therefore, I stay clear of other moving vehicles and people while using it. Unfortunately, this limits me to driving around the local quarry on Tuesday nights. They really should put some more lights in over there.  Someone might drive their car right over the edge and land on&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/godsgE21uWU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/528658951544840296/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=528658951544840296" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/528658951544840296?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/528658951544840296?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/godsgE21uWU/why-santa-can-never-retire-to-florida.html" title="Why Santa Can Never Retire to Florida" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-santa-can-never-retire-to-florida.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EERH4-cCp7ImA9WxBREUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-7350829121132745396</id><published>2009-12-30T12:33:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T12:53:25.058-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-30T12:53:25.058-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Signs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Driving" /><title>A Positive Sign</title><summary type="html">Dear City Department of Public Works,Every day I drive past your big plus sign before the town's main intersection. While I appreciate it's positive message, I continue to wonder what is being added? If this is your method of counting cars on a busy road, I think you need to move to plan B. And no, plan B does not involve a government official pressing the sign each time a car passes. But perhaps&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/pZbjE5cnJis" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/7350829121132745396/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=7350829121132745396" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7350829121132745396?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7350829121132745396?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/pZbjE5cnJis/positive-sign.html" title="A Positive Sign" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SzuRSYELrOI/AAAAAAAAALk/oEfhcZOuFLg/s72-c/4_way_intersection.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/12/positive-sign.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMRH8_eip7ImA9WxBREU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-1140727109318859204</id><published>2009-12-29T10:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T10:21:25.142-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-29T10:21:25.142-05:00</app:edited><title>Beantown Jedi</title><summary type="html">Coworker #1: "On which side of the lab should we enter?"Coworker #2: "By the loading dock."Coworker #1: "By the dock?"Coworker #2: "Yes, come to the dock side."Me: "You sound like Darth Vader with a Boston accent."&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/JFSBh49Imzw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/1140727109318859204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=1140727109318859204" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/1140727109318859204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/1140727109318859204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/JFSBh49Imzw/beantown-jedi.html" title="Beantown Jedi" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/12/beantown-jedi.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4NR3w-cCp7ImA9WxBSFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-6752462059788064575</id><published>2009-12-23T08:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T09:19:56.258-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-23T09:19:56.258-05:00</app:edited><title>Happy Holidays</title><summary type="html">Dear Faithful Readers,It's been a busy year, but I hope to write more in 2010.  Please know that even if I'm not writing, it doesn't mean that I'm not finding humor in everyday life. I hope to share more in the next few months. In the meantime, I want 2010 to be a year in which you share with me some of your humorous observations.In 2010, I have a few goals with respect to my writing:a) Blog more&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/k0bQKet2rxs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/6752462059788064575/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=6752462059788064575" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6752462059788064575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6752462059788064575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/k0bQKet2rxs/happy-holidays.html" title="Happy Holidays" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-holidays.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UDR3YzfCp7ImA9WxNaGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-8516646445287261770</id><published>2009-12-03T23:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T23:34:36.884-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-03T23:34:36.884-05:00</app:edited><title>I'm a "The-Fridge-Is-Half-Empty" Guy</title><summary type="html">At one time or another, we have all found ourselves in the fridge searching for a TBE snack. TBE, as in "to be eaten". A deep dive into the refridgerator is never without hope that something with chocolate lives within. This typically involves moving cold items around like in the same manner one would when solving one of those puzzles with one piece missing. Which brings me to my question. Is it &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/QrSC19SAK2M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/8516646445287261770/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=8516646445287261770" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8516646445287261770?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8516646445287261770?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/QrSC19SAK2M/im-the-fridge-is-half-empty-guy.html" title="I'm a &quot;The-Fridge-Is-Half-Empty&quot; Guy" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-the-fridge-is-half-empty-guy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkACQ38_eSp7ImA9WxNaFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-136654356802575281</id><published>2009-12-01T09:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T09:46:02.141-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-01T09:46:02.141-05:00</app:edited><title>Think Forwarding: A Phone Service Feature Still in Development</title><summary type="html">Last night, I called Verizon to dispute a bill. After navigating the system with a combination of mad button pressing and yelling over the automated customer service rep (just to be heard, of all things), I was informed that the offices were closed. After questioning Mrs. Roboto about Verizon's own use of call forwarding after hours, I hung up the phone.If Verizon's features include Caller ID and&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/Is28IT_A6io" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/136654356802575281/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=136654356802575281" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/136654356802575281?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/136654356802575281?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/Is28IT_A6io/think-forwarding-phone-service-feature.html" title="Think Forwarding: A Phone Service Feature Still in Development" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/12/think-forwarding-phone-service-feature.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIDRXo9fCp7ImA9WxNaFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-4851490422445464047</id><published>2009-11-30T10:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T10:56:14.464-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-30T10:56:14.464-05:00</app:edited><title>Pig Flu at the Cube Farm</title><summary type="html">Some companies are issuing memos and instructional videos on proper sneezing and coughing etiquette. I am feeling inspired to make a video too. I will call it "The manners your parents forgot to teach you". The sequel, aimed at teaching etiquette to the sick employee's healthy counterparts, will be called "Why holiday potluck lunches are your ticket to swine flu hell".&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/KpYXLnkxFZE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/4851490422445464047/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=4851490422445464047" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4851490422445464047?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4851490422445464047?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/KpYXLnkxFZE/pig-flu-at-cube-farm.html" title="Pig Flu at the Cube Farm" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/11/pig-flu-at-cube-farm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MAQno9cSp7ImA9WxNaE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-6298326520704867378</id><published>2009-11-27T15:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T15:57:23.469-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-27T15:57:23.469-05:00</app:edited><title>The Irony of Seeing Jesus</title><summary type="html">It was reported this morning that a woman in Methuen, MA saw an image of Jesus on her iron. Seeing the image reassured her that "life is going to be good".  Since this story was probably leaked by a local named Jesus DeJesus, I'm going to play Devil's advocate (literally) and ask the pressing questions. I would start our one-on-one interview like this:"Hello. Where were you when you saw the image&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/8hICCjUKbjQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/6298326520704867378/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=6298326520704867378" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6298326520704867378?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6298326520704867378?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/8hICCjUKbjQ/irony-of-seeing-jesus.html" title="The Irony of Seeing Jesus" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/11/irony-of-seeing-jesus.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08MQ3w_eSp7ImA9WxBTFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-7738494780810889283</id><published>2009-11-24T23:37:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T18:38:02.241-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-09T18:38:02.241-05:00</app:edited><title>I'm part Mexican.</title><summary type="html">A few thoughts....I'm part Mexican. At least for the 24 hours after I eat a burrito.I recently asked myself, "should I go to a conference in Palm Springs CA in January?". That's like asking if a frog's ass is watertight.I've been busy planning my new business. I'm going to open a sub-optimal bakery. I will acknowledge that I am not a professional and that the quality is good but not great. That &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/wSf_Hpo_Pno" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/7738494780810889283/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=7738494780810889283" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7738494780810889283?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7738494780810889283?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/wSf_Hpo_Pno/im-part-mexican.html" title="I'm part Mexican." /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-part-mexican.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8FQ3c4cCp7ImA9WxNVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-4043943244216337733</id><published>2009-10-25T15:27:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T22:33:32.938-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-26T22:33:32.938-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fiction" /><title>Dum it Down</title><summary type="html">Dum Dum Lollipops are the best in their class primarily because competitors are only left feeling frustrated when they attempt to call this market leader silly names. We took a survey."Every time we tried namecalling with those Dum Dums, they always won up front with their name," said one competitor."After awhile, we stopped competing with Dum Dums and went after Smarties. There was more room to &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/xQdynPvI8Bw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/4043943244216337733/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=4043943244216337733" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4043943244216337733?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4043943244216337733?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/xQdynPvI8Bw/dum-it-down.html" title="Dum it Down" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/dum-it-down.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YCQ3gzfSp7ImA9WxNVEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-3681146954422088739</id><published>2009-10-22T22:19:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T22:32:42.685-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-22T22:32:42.685-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The House" /><title>She Called Me a Peeping Tyler</title><summary type="html">At my house, "leaf peeping" is another way of saying "opening the blinds in the family room". However if someone named "Leaf" ever moved next door, the phrase would require a lot of explanation.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/cDzf0CGqyoE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/3681146954422088739/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=3681146954422088739" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/3681146954422088739?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/3681146954422088739?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/cDzf0CGqyoE/she-called-me-peeping-tyler.html" title="She Called Me a Peeping Tyler" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SuET0KrBXyI/AAAAAAAAALU/f11rzQEsqqk/s72-c/100_3819.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/she-called-me-peeping-tyler.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QERXkyeip7ImA9WxNVEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-595481881790575989</id><published>2009-10-22T17:43:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T21:28:24.792-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-22T21:28:24.792-04:00</app:edited><title>Get Granite Counters Through Our Elliptical Machine Trade-In Program</title><summary type="html">Dear Omnee Granite Inc.,Please accept my application for your active 55+ community. I apologize if this is too forward-thinking for a family business currently in the countertop business, but I assure you that your path is obviously clear. Let me explain.About 5 years ago, I went to your location which was a fitness equipment store and bought an elliptical machine and weight machine. At the time,&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/a10kncph1xI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/595481881790575989/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=595481881790575989" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/595481881790575989?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/595481881790575989?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/a10kncph1xI/get-granite-counters-through-our.html" title="Get Granite Counters Through Our Elliptical Machine Trade-In Program" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/get-granite-counters-through-our.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQHQX06eSp7ImA9WxNVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-8613084720146589430</id><published>2009-10-21T08:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T09:05:30.311-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-21T09:05:30.311-04:00</app:edited><title>Correction: The World Does Revolve Around Her</title><summary type="html">Yesterday my pink-obsessed 2-1/2 year old daughter ran around the house with a bottle of amoxicillin yelling enthusiastically, "It's pink like me! It's PINK like ME!!!!"Her name starts with the letter 'S'. This morning she ran around the house with a large wood-carved 'S' yelling, "S starts with me! S starts with ME!"&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/uMy6mC7Vkks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/8613084720146589430/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=8613084720146589430" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8613084720146589430?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8613084720146589430?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/uMy6mC7Vkks/correction-world-does-revolve-around.html" title="Correction: The World Does Revolve Around Her" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/correction-world-does-revolve-around.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MNQHs4fSp7ImA9WxNVEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-6211339788916581845</id><published>2009-10-20T15:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T16:11:31.535-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T16:11:31.535-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="neighbors" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gardening" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fiction" /><title>Lazy Gardening: A Transferrable Trend</title><summary type="html">Dear Neighbor,Is everything ok? I haven't seen you in awhile and I noticed that a couple planters in your yard have been toppled over. They've been there quite awhile, yet the flowers appear to be well-maintained. I also noticed that a small wheelbarrel full of flowers has been left abandoned near your lamppost. I wouldn't have been concerned, except that it appears that something happened in &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/tfFZLEtdYbI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/6211339788916581845/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=6211339788916581845" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6211339788916581845?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6211339788916581845?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/tfFZLEtdYbI/lazy-gardening-transferrable-trend.html" title="Lazy Gardening: A Transferrable Trend" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/lazy-gardening-transferrable-trend.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4AQnc_eip7ImA9WxNVEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-3087220126687591769</id><published>2009-10-15T05:41:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T07:25:43.942-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T07:25:43.942-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Driving" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commuter Hell" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bad Driver Phenotypes" /><title>EatFenderville</title><summary type="html">A delivery truck was tailgating me on the way into work the other morning. I wasn't driving slowly, yet the truck was right on me. As I peered in my rear view mirror, I swear the driver of the truck was in my back seat. Although my first reaction was to strap him into the carseat, hand him a half eaten PB&amp;amp;J sandwich, and warn him not to kick the back of my chair, I realized that this was just an &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/c_4TDnHlgtk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/3087220126687591769/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=3087220126687591769" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/3087220126687591769?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/3087220126687591769?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/c_4TDnHlgtk/fenderville.html" title="EatFenderville" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/fenderville.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MSXw8eSp7ImA9WxNWEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-5802116149485063588</id><published>2009-10-09T16:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T16:26:28.271-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T16:26:28.271-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Shopping" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Furniture" /><title>Putting Your Money Where Your Loveseat Is</title><summary type="html">"Someone spilled coffee on one of your loveseats," I informed the saleswoman.Sensing the possible misinterpretation of my seemingly inappropriate comment, I clarified "In the showroom over there. One of the couches has a toppled coffee cup on it.  The brown stuff made a big mess."Saleswoman (smiling): "Oh,  no worries. That's fake. It's there for demonstration purposes. It helps make the point &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/__dJOzauk_Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/5802116149485063588/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=5802116149485063588" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/5802116149485063588?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/5802116149485063588?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/__dJOzauk_Y/putting-your-money-where-your-loveseat.html" title="Putting Your Money Where Your Loveseat Is" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/10/putting-your-money-where-your-loveseat.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYCR3syfSp7ImA9WxNSGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-4439714022343332318</id><published>2009-09-01T21:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T21:16:06.595-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-01T21:16:06.595-04:00</app:edited><title>3 1/2 Car Garage</title><summary type="html">I have been busy selling my house and looking for a new one.  One particular house advertised a 3 1/2 car garage. I'm disappointed that we didn't see the house before it was sold because I *really* wanted to see the 1/2 car.Thanks for hanging in there. I do plan to pick up my writing again. I might have to pack my good intentions for my pending move, but as soon as I find my clothes, something to&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/jmjn742GY5I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/4439714022343332318/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=4439714022343332318" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4439714022343332318?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/4439714022343332318?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/jmjn742GY5I/3-12-car-garage.html" title="3 1/2 Car Garage" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/09/3-12-car-garage.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04HQno4fip7ImA9WxJaEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-5235605294034819405</id><published>2009-07-30T23:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:12:13.436-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-30T23:12:13.436-04:00</app:edited><title>I'm Looking for Mr. Buffet. Mr. Breakfast Buffet.</title><summary type="html">"Can I help you?" asked the hotel employee at check-in."Yes. I would like to purchase a person," I replied."A person?" she asked."Yes. Just one. Do you have anymore?""I don't understand.""That's a separate issue.""I'm sorry, but-"I interrupted. "Your sign. It says $59 per person. I only have $100 with me. I can only afford one unless you will give me the second one at a discount. The sign also &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/ZkCCpnYcmNA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/5235605294034819405/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=5235605294034819405" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/5235605294034819405?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/5235605294034819405?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/ZkCCpnYcmNA/im-looking-for-mr-buffet-mr-breakfast.html" title="I'm Looking for Mr. Buffet. Mr. Breakfast Buffet." /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-looking-for-mr-buffet-mr-breakfast.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQHSX4yeip7ImA9WxJbFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-6644999417303175235</id><published>2009-07-24T13:15:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T15:22:18.092-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-24T15:22:18.092-04:00</app:edited><title>Hair of the Tyler AND Foot-in-the-Mouth Disorder</title><summary type="html">My hair was getting long (~1/8th inch in length) along my head's equator, so I went to the barber during lunch.  Actually I went to a SuperCuts, where even with a head like mine you can feel special. Don't think for a second that I didn't ask when they would open their AverageCuts store for those of us on which the Super is normally wasted.  While in the chair, the hair stylist (again, any &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/MOwsW4wO-20" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/6644999417303175235/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=6644999417303175235" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6644999417303175235?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/6644999417303175235?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/MOwsW4wO-20/hair-of-tyler-and-foot-in-mouth.html" title="Hair of the Tyler AND Foot-in-the-Mouth Disorder" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/hair-of-tyler-and-foot-in-mouth.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EBRXsyfyp7ImA9WxJUFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-51378032443110701</id><published>2009-07-12T21:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T21:47:34.597-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-12T21:47:34.597-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Furniture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Commercials" /><title>There's a Genetic Reason I Haven't Sold You a Tyler-o-Pedic</title><summary type="html">My writing has recently taken a more technical angle. I'm writing grant proposals to conduct an important genetic study. This is a study whose results will provide conclusive data to support a well-known hypothesis never tested as of today.I have been collecting my very preliminary data, most of which was jotted down on the back of a Dora the Explorer singing birthday card after a few hours of &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/D-H4ljIRiow" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/51378032443110701/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=51378032443110701" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/51378032443110701?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/51378032443110701?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/D-H4ljIRiow/theres-genetic-reason-i-havent-sold-you.html" title="There's a Genetic Reason I Haven't Sold You a Tyler-o-Pedic" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/theres-genetic-reason-i-havent-sold-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQHQXg-cSp7ImA9WxJUEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-7776370697761316859</id><published>2009-07-10T12:41:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T12:45:30.659-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-10T12:45:30.659-04:00</app:edited><title>Sending Mixed Signals About Hitting</title><summary type="html">In my house, we reward a toddler's "no hitting" behavior with a big high five. As in, "Good job not hitting your sister back. Now, slap hit my hand as hard as you possibly can before I hug you."&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/xvLsGbtQ_OQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/7776370697761316859/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=7776370697761316859" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7776370697761316859?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7776370697761316859?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/xvLsGbtQ_OQ/sending-mixed-signals-about-hitting.html" title="Sending Mixed Signals About Hitting" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/sending-mixed-signals-about-hitting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcBSHcycCp7ImA9WxJUEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-7204491018157538391</id><published>2009-07-10T12:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T12:40:59.998-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-10T12:40:59.998-04:00</app:edited><title>Dispensable Feedback</title><summary type="html">I am getting settled in the new job and plan to start writing more often. Is that ok with you?I appreciate feedback. While in the men's room at work today, the motion-activated paper towel dispenser activated in a moment when I was far from it (please don't ask me where). It was proactive in giving it's feedback. Unfortunately, I don't know what it's intentions were. Perhaps it wanted to be there&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/xHxM9yQmURk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/7204491018157538391/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=7204491018157538391" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7204491018157538391?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/7204491018157538391?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/xHxM9yQmURk/dispensable-feedback.html" title="Dispensable Feedback" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/dispensable-feedback.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MHRn49eSp7ImA9WxJVFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-8716699524280646744</id><published>2009-07-03T14:09:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T14:23:57.061-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-03T14:23:57.061-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Driving" /><title>Rt. 90 East / Greenland</title><summary type="html">Driving along Rt 495 west of Boston, there are signs for Rt. 90 (aka the Mass Pike). They indicate that Rt.90 WEST will take me to Albany NY. I know that thse signs for the Mass Pike are also displayed in Boston, as far away from Albany as you can get in the state of Massacusetts. This is very helpful, because if I were ever to go to another state a couple hundred miles away, I definitely &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/2Eus2z_8Gz0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/8716699524280646744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=8716699524280646744" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8716699524280646744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8716699524280646744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/2Eus2z_8Gz0/rt-90-east-greenland.html" title="Rt. 90 East / Greenland" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/07/rt-90-east-greenland.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEABQ388eCp7ImA9WxJWFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-1053373617645774500</id><published>2009-06-19T09:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T09:05:52.170-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-19T09:05:52.170-04:00</app:edited><title>Minutes from World's Most Boring Meeting</title><summary type="html">40.5 drop ceiling tiles of three different shades1 mystery stain4 standard fluorescent lights, 1 with a broken cover2 sprinklers, which I prayed and prayed would go off 10 minutes into the meeting&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/2rMm9D7tZsA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/1053373617645774500/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=1053373617645774500" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/1053373617645774500?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/1053373617645774500?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/2rMm9D7tZsA/minutes-from-worlds-most-boring-meeting.html" title="Minutes from World's Most Boring Meeting" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/06/minutes-from-worlds-most-boring-meeting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYDR387eip7ImA9WxJWEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3897899223145766603.post-8602274903321080627</id><published>2009-06-14T12:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:36:16.102-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-15T21:36:16.102-04:00</app:edited><title>Is that a baby monitor in your pocket?</title><summary type="html">Is that a wireless baby monitor in your pocket or do your pants always cry like a toddler when they don't want to sleep?&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~4/nLcfWas30uY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/feeds/8602274903321080627/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3897899223145766603&amp;postID=8602274903321080627" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8602274903321080627?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3897899223145766603/posts/default/8602274903321080627?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SandboxForMyInnerHumorist/~3/nLcfWas30uY/is-that-baby-monitor-in-your-pocket.html" title="Is that a baby monitor in your pocket?" /><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03107820054624205076</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A9CbYn-hegU/SbB3Ka-SHEI/AAAAAAAAAKY/TpO487k6xD8/S220/me.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://innerhumorist.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-that-baby-monitor-in-your-pocket.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

