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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;CE8NSHw_cSp7ImA9WxNXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895</id><updated>2009-10-04T20:34:59.249-04:00</updated><title>The Long, Dark White Board of the Mind</title><subtitle type="html">Welcome to my random corner of the internet. The idea of this blog is to be both funny and thought provoking at the same time. Inspired, yet?</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</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/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08AQHk9fip7ImA9WxRUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-2188662748554537987</id><published>2008-11-25T13:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T14:04:01.766-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-25T14:04:01.766-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burnt out" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schedule" /><title>My Fleeting 15 Minutes of Game</title><summary type="html">I got burnt out there for a while. I know people who keep much more punishing schedules than I do, but writing and other creative pursuits... it is hard to simply tighten your schedule and keep going when you have extra work to do. Sure, the work tends to expand to fill the deadline - and beyond, at times - but just cramming in more deadlines might work for more logistical tasks but not so much &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/fLf4BhTP6vg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=2188662748554537987" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2188662748554537987?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2188662748554537987?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/fLf4BhTP6vg/my-fleeting-15-minutes-of-game.html" title="My Fleeting 15 Minutes of Game" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-fleeting-15-minutes-of-game.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIMSHo_eSp7ImA9WxRRFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-2695816037173218734</id><published>2008-09-27T17:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T17:56:29.441-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-27T17:56:29.441-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Supply and Deadpan" /><title>There's a market there; don't get me started on the 12 steps</title><summary type="html">I was talking to my buddy the other day about the ongoing economic melt down in the US.He pointed out that basically what happened was that people were selling the fact that a large percentage of the US population had no money.Think about this for a second. Anytime there's a steady supply of something, someone is going to find a way to sell it. Our entire society is built on oil, not because of &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/ujybQTStxQA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=2695816037173218734" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2695816037173218734?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2695816037173218734?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/ujybQTStxQA/theres-market-there-dont-get-me-started.html" title="There's a market there; don't get me started on the 12 steps" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/theres-market-there-dont-get-me-started.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAHRHoyeyp7ImA9WxRRE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-1846981699366951578</id><published>2008-09-24T16:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T22:45:35.493-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-24T22:45:35.493-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="big and little l and c" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="artsy types" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politics" /><title>Uh oh... get ready to yell at me.</title><summary type="html">Now, I don't want you to think that I'm not some anarchist, or some kind of beer swilling dope who thinks that all politicians are the same and there's no point voting.But here's thing (and often people end up yelling at me when I bring up politics) there's an election going on both here in Soviet Canuckistan and down in the land of the freedom fries. And they are both being framed as good, &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/CuGpkD7dvY8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=1846981699366951578" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1846981699366951578?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1846981699366951578?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/CuGpkD7dvY8/uh-oh-get-ready-to-yell-at-me.html" title="Uh oh... get ready to yell at me." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/uh-oh-get-ready-to-yell-at-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcCR3o7eSp7ImA9WxRREUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-6701927982415792751</id><published>2008-09-23T12:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T12:24:26.401-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-23T12:24:26.401-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="information internet" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="entertainment internet" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="word of mouth" /><title>A Blog Like Me</title><summary type="html">If you think about it, blogging is the absolute height of vanity.It's not quite so bad if you have some sort of beat - that is, your blog is journalistic or informative in nature. It's vain, sure, but not as vain.The absolute limits of vanity is a blog like this one, where I'm not adding anything to your daily lives. [add here your own personal list of different ways to say nothing. Hint: start &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/GmLB68ga28o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=6701927982415792751" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6701927982415792751?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6701927982415792751?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/GmLB68ga28o/blog-like-me.html" title="A Blog Like Me" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-like-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cNQnwycCp7ImA9WxRREU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-3494189271740063167</id><published>2008-09-22T13:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T13:38:13.298-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-22T13:38:13.298-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Looking for a &quot;Yeah&quot; day" /><title>One of those moments...</title><summary type="html">You ever had one of those moments when someone says something more or less off hand, but it makes you stop and think about something you never did before?I know people dealing with me have never had those moments. I don't say anything off hand. In fact, I can be pretty direct, and I think I have a tendency to make people defensive.The other day Mike down the corner was making me a coffee and &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/fXsS5tpDZxg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=3494189271740063167" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3494189271740063167?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3494189271740063167?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/fXsS5tpDZxg/one-of-those-moments.html" title="One of those moments..." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-of-those-moments.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIMSXY_eCp7ImA9WxRSGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-215179592186566084</id><published>2008-09-19T13:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T13:16:28.840-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-19T13:16:28.840-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Worst post" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="only 16" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="practice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sid Vicious" /><title>Probably the Worst Yet</title><summary type="html">It's a little depressing when I look back at my postings. The intention is to do one post every day. The most I have ever managed has been 16.16? One every second day? And that's at my best. In August I posted exactly once. I suppose I should be glad I posted at all in August. Yep, that's right. Look on the bright side.And a whole bunch of those sporadic posts have been god awful. But here, I am,&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/XcD5Fsu5L60" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=215179592186566084" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/215179592186566084?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/215179592186566084?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/XcD5Fsu5L60/probably-worst-yet.html" title="Probably the Worst Yet" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/probably-worst-yet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIHRno4fip7ImA9WxRSF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-1714367052653285312</id><published>2008-09-18T17:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T17:15:37.436-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-18T17:15:37.436-04:00</app:edited><title>All About Nothing</title><summary type="html">Ah... I got nothing today.Enjoy the sun!Or, whatever your local weather/time of day happens to be.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/oY9QdYVNBys" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=1714367052653285312" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1714367052653285312?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1714367052653285312?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/oY9QdYVNBys/all-about-nothing.html" title="All About Nothing" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/all-about-nothing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0INRnwyfCp7ImA9WxRSFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-3229412125596646716</id><published>2008-09-17T12:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T12:39:57.294-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-17T12:39:57.294-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="PR. enough with the celebrities" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="media" /><title>The "Push" Society</title><summary type="html">At what point do we have enough celebrities?There's been a number of seemingly random things on my mind lately, but at the end of the day it comes down to this...PR companies control the world.As the media works with less and less time and resources, and under more and more deadlines (think constant real time blogging) you have to ask yourself, where do the stories they cover come from?My fiancee&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/XcJCywhxQ1Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=3229412125596646716" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3229412125596646716?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3229412125596646716?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/XcJCywhxQ1Q/push-society.html" title="The &quot;Push&quot; Society" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/push-society.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYMQngycSp7ImA9WxRSFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-552128350477267303</id><published>2008-09-16T13:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T12:49:43.699-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-17T12:49:43.699-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="screenplay" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what to put on what page when" /><title>Screenplay Question</title><summary type="html">Dear Long Dark White Board,I am working on a screenplay that I intend on selling to Steven Spielberg. I am aiming for a seven figure deal, but I would accept anything down to a polite handshake. It is a small, indy character piece set half in 1887 and half in 3143. I won't spoil it by telling you which half is which. Lol. I'm pitching it as Air Force One meets Snakes on a Plane, with a twist - &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/ZdbAg6emlt0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=552128350477267303" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/552128350477267303?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/552128350477267303?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/ZdbAg6emlt0/screenplay-question.html" title="Screenplay Question" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/screenplay-question.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIBSXo9eip7ImA9WxRSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-6054263806496602629</id><published>2008-09-15T09:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T10:05:58.462-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-15T10:05:58.462-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bosses" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vancouverites" /><title>Da Big Man. Me.</title><summary type="html">More and more in my life I find myself being in charge.Yep, all we need is a plague of locusts and we got ourselves a real, down home, old fashioned apocalypse.Here's a tangent before I even get going; did you know there's a significant portion of the US population who are actively waiting for the end times of Revelation? And I thought being stood up for a blind date was bad. Ba-boom ching!Anyway&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/dmKrAt7qFnw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=6054263806496602629" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6054263806496602629?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6054263806496602629?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/dmKrAt7qFnw/da-big-man-me.html" title="Da Big Man. Me." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/da-big-man-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGRX4_fCp7ImA9WxRSFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-3161491978003499925</id><published>2008-09-14T11:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T11:48:44.044-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-14T11:48:44.044-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="abosultely needed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sorta needed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="productivity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="discipline" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="monkey noises" /><title>Being Disciplined. Oh my!</title><summary type="html">No, this isn't what you think.All the S&amp;M stuff is strictly reserved for my other blog. Written under the nom du plume of Mistress Canukica. If you meet someone with a maple leaf shaped burn on them - they belong to me.Totally kidding, mom!When I tell people I'm a writer, I often get two or three of the same responses. I have realized lately that most people only talk for the feeling of being &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/o06nuaaY0EQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=3161491978003499925" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3161491978003499925?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/3161491978003499925?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/o06nuaaY0EQ/being-disciplined-oh-my.html" title="Being Disciplined. Oh my!" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/being-disciplined-oh-my.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4HQH44fSp7ImA9WxRSE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-2220236732401198426</id><published>2008-09-13T15:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T15:42:11.035-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-13T15:42:11.035-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sorry about the new orleans reference" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="email" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rising tides" /><title>The whole "raising tide" proverb doesn't apply to floods.</title><summary type="html">They say that a rising tide floats all boats. The idea is, what improves one person's lot in life often can improve everyone's.Well, that could be true, but only up to point. If that tide rises too fast, we're all screwed. Just ask the people of New Orleans how they feel about rising water.Or, on second thought, don't. They'll probably punch you and then come looking for me. Cause I'm pretty sure&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/X__ZlZlewNY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=2220236732401198426" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2220236732401198426?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/2220236732401198426?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/X__ZlZlewNY/whole-raising-tide-proverb-doesnt-apply.html" title="The whole &quot;raising tide&quot; proverb doesn't apply to floods." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/whole-raising-tide-proverb-doesnt-apply.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMCRHk-cCp7ImA9WxRSEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-7230774495625107385</id><published>2008-09-10T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:54:25.758-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-10T10:54:25.758-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lazy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Newfoundland" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="restaurants" /><title>Stories of my Death and other Exagerations</title><summary type="html">Waddya at!?That's how they say hello in Newfoundland!I view this blog as a I would a child, something to care for and nourish and love and see blossom into its full potential.Good thing it isn't really a child. Can babies go for a month without eating? I'm no baby expert, but I don't think so. In fact, in my neighbourhood, they can't go four days without a meal at a restaurant. Here's a tip to &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/U0-QW2Daaxo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=7230774495625107385" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/7230774495625107385?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/7230774495625107385?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/U0-QW2Daaxo/stories-of-my-death-and-other.html" title="Stories of my Death and other Exagerations" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/09/stories-of-my-death-and-other.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUDRnk7eCp7ImA9WxdUGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-6546886019875325687</id><published>2008-08-04T12:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T13:17:57.700-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-04T13:17:57.700-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jokes; buy the book" /><title>It's a trick!</title><summary type="html">I recently finished a pretty fun book called "Service Included" by Phoebe Damrosch.I'm going to be taking a story from the book, which may be illegal I'm not really sure what the rules are. So anyway, I figure it only fair to relax my own rules about linking and recommend you pick it up.Amazon Page for Service IncludedIn the book she tells a story of a little encounter between her and a couple &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/nX8SXw4PbOw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=6546886019875325687" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6546886019875325687?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6546886019875325687?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/nX8SXw4PbOw/its-trick.html" title="It's a trick!" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-trick.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cEQXs9cCp7ImA9WxdUEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-5032486608556110283</id><published>2008-07-25T13:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T14:03:20.568-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-25T14:03:20.568-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="half full?" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Deadlines" /><title>I'm Between Projects Right Now</title><summary type="html">I'm a deadline whore.Without them, I kinda go to pieces.I don't understand how the typical office worker operates. Mostly because I have almost never been hired by any organization that has requirements beyond possessing a pulse. I'm not sure why. Even temp agencies have refused to take me on. A company that lets you pay them to pick up people junk refused to work with me.So I sometimes have a &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/AxrR8c53kRM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=5032486608556110283" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/5032486608556110283?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/5032486608556110283?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/AxrR8c53kRM/im-between-projects-right-now.html" title="I'm Between Projects Right Now" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-between-projects-right-now.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YBR3g-fCp7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-1863871514545402148</id><published>2008-07-24T12:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T13:05:56.654-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T13:05:56.654-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sexpert; portmanteau words" /><title>By this post, I am now a Sexpert</title><summary type="html">Sexperts.Was a more perfect word ever conceived?Much like the act itself, the word Sexpert is the physical intermingling of two separate individuals - and, as sometimes happens, leaves you with a general sense that you went a little too far.Was there a mass cry from people who felt that actually having to say or read two words was just too much for their busy day? I suppose there's only so much &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/BtfRIvQ4ze8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=1863871514545402148" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1863871514545402148?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1863871514545402148?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/BtfRIvQ4ze8/by-this-post-i-am-now-sexpert.html" title="By this post, I am now a Sexpert" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/by-this-post-i-am-now-sexpert.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04ERXc9fip7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-922249012314300070</id><published>2008-07-22T12:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T12:11:44.966-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T12:11:44.966-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="viscosity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><title>Things People Say 2</title><summary type="html">"Blood is thicker than water."Does that mean that if blood were thinner than water, we would be obliged to lie, cheat and steal from our family?I wonder how many other coincidences of viscosity we should model our lives after?&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/szpzz3X8qjw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=922249012314300070" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/922249012314300070?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/922249012314300070?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/szpzz3X8qjw/things-poeople-say-2.html" title="Things People Say 2" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/things-poeople-say-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUHQXg6fSp7ImA9WxdVFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-148253547269739363</id><published>2008-07-21T13:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T13:43:50.615-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-21T13:43:50.615-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Crime doesn't pay" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="but it watches TV; internet slang" /><title>To Each His Pwn</title><summary type="html">Do you think that career criminals hate watching Cop Shows?I imagine them sitting at home with the kids, the TVs on, and one of the CSI's come on. All of a sudden they're squirming on the couch, reaching for the remote. They're trying to explain to their kids, "You know that this is just TV, right?"And the whole show is kind of like the complete opposite of what they believe in. People are always&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/t_7EfBoDVPs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=148253547269739363" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/148253547269739363?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/148253547269739363?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/t_7EfBoDVPs/to-each-his-pwn.html" title="To Each His Pwn" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/to-each-his-pwn.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIDQ3w-fCp7ImA9WxdVEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-7348732591234742045</id><published>2008-07-16T13:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T14:22:52.254-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-16T14:22:52.254-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Daiblo Cody" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Road Trip to the Pacific Mall" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Air Travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Perceived Value" /><title>Diablo Cody exposed; A Little Ecomonic Digression for You all</title><summary type="html">Diablo Cody has built a very successful life for herself through writing a blog about her time as a stripper.I guess I made the wrong life choices - going to school, practicing my craft, looking for work in my chosen field...When people are looking to have things written, there's a distinct prejudice against writers. Go figure.My buddy works for Air Canada, and in the airline business, consumers &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/fpdwWO5ayy4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=7348732591234742045" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/7348732591234742045?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/7348732591234742045?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/fpdwWO5ayy4/diablo-cody-exposed-little-ecomonic.html" title="Diablo Cody exposed; A Little Ecomonic Digression for You all" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/diablo-cody-exposed-little-ecomonic.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08FSXY8cCp7ImA9WxdVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-4249371573219574937</id><published>2008-07-15T12:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T12:36:58.878-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-15T12:36:58.878-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="interests; Ottawa; Fred Flintstone" /><title>I Am Boring; the Burden of Small Talk</title><summary type="html">The other day, a new acquaintance asked me, "So besides writing, do you have any other interests?"Uh... nope.Sad, really. I have long sought after a hobby, but the truth is that very few things interest me. I write, I read, I watch TV, I play video games, spend time with friends, and that's about it.My fiancee and I are both freelance writers. That means we gotta hustle all the time. We're both &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/JO_5MuwodnU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=4249371573219574937" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/4249371573219574937?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/4249371573219574937?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/JO_5MuwodnU/i-am-boring-burden-of-small-talk.html" title="I Am Boring; the Burden of Small Talk" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-boring-burden-of-small-talk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4HQ305eCp7ImA9WxdVEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-8265309194246103587</id><published>2008-07-14T16:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T16:38:52.320-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-14T16:38:52.320-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Digg sucks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="insults" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="internet" /><title>When in doubt, attack the internet...</title><summary type="html">More and more, I’m coming to realize that there is a wide divide between people who are tech savvy people who spend a lot of time online, and the rest of the world. But neither seems to see this gulf.I think that many people have it in their minds that they are completely normal. That the things they do are completely rational and everyone else would do things exactly the same way if only those &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/3Vfk_F_b1Bs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=8265309194246103587" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/8265309194246103587?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/8265309194246103587?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/3Vfk_F_b1Bs/when-in-doubt-attack-internet.html" title="When in doubt, attack the internet..." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-in-doubt-attack-internet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UARXo7eSp7ImA9WxdWFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-475825007798034675</id><published>2008-07-09T13:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T13:40:44.401-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-09T13:40:44.401-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="No Pizza" /><title>A Million Little Pizzas. Mmmmm. (This post contains zero references to pizza.)</title><summary type="html">I feel like the Da Vinci Code is a personal insult to me.And no, I'm not Catholic. Or to borrow a joke, I'm a recovering Catholic.Here's the thing. I'm a fiction writer. I write stuff that's not true - in fact, the not truer the better. But people love to believer that their fiction is real. That they know who that character was based on, or they know the thing that happened to the author that &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/yILui4x-awQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=475825007798034675" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/475825007798034675?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/475825007798034675?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/yILui4x-awQ/million-little-pizzas-mmmmm-this-post.html" title="A Million Little Pizzas. Mmmmm. (This post contains zero references to pizza.)" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/million-little-pizzas-mmmmm-this-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHSHY6fCp7ImA9WxdWFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-6706096357073141028</id><published>2008-07-08T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:52:19.814-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-08T11:52:19.814-04:00</app:edited><title>Facebook Flirting</title><summary type="html">A buddy of mine told me this story the other day;He was at a poetry event picking up women. Now, maybe you're thinking what I was thinking, that you'd rather look from your woman in a very different setting, like backstage at a fashion show or an all night video game arcade. No, he ensures me that poetry readings are ideal because simply bathing on any kind of regular basis elevates you way above&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/U_DlCV2hllQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=6706096357073141028" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6706096357073141028?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/6706096357073141028?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/U_DlCV2hllQ/facebook-flirting.html" title="Facebook Flirting" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/facebook-flirting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEFRHkyeSp7ImA9WxdWEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-1142751281635906650</id><published>2008-07-02T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T13:10:15.791-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-02T13:10:15.791-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="penis comedy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bald is not always beautiful (watch the tape)" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex tapes" /><title>Celebrity Pink; The Ultimate He Said/She Said Comeback</title><summary type="html">Yesterday, for the first time, I watched some celebrity sex tapes.What's that? Too much information? Well, dear gentle prudish readers, it has come to my attention that you consider me something of an intellectual god; an Albert Einstein of Blogger. And while, yes, when I die my brain will be passed from hand to admiring hand, I suck at math, so I don't know where you're getting this Einstein &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/6eTab-gwYAQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=1142751281635906650" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1142751281635906650?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/1142751281635906650?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/6eTab-gwYAQ/celebrity-pink-ultimate-he-saidshe-said.html" title="Celebrity Pink; The Ultimate He Said/She Said Comeback" /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/07/celebrity-pink-ultimate-he-saidshe-said.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUEQXk_fyp7ImA9WxdXFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7449107465829201895.post-4247510044474533831</id><published>2008-06-28T15:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T16:00:00.747-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-28T16:00:00.747-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="From the &quot;day late" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dollar short&quot; dept." /><title>Here's an easy one for me...</title><summary type="html">Random Thoughts for June 27th...1) There are two types of people in the world; those who planned ahead and booked off the Monday before Tuesday’s Canada Day holiday and those who we’ll be calling in sick.2) The “cool factor” of your new phone is exactly proportional to the “I want to strangle you factor” for your fellow street-car riders as you try to decide on a ring tone. Will be Jazz Notes 3 &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~4/Wo9DmhZ6rks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7449107465829201895&amp;postID=4247510044474533831" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/4247510044474533831?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7449107465829201895/posts/default/4247510044474533831?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheLongDarkWhiteBoardOfTheMind/~3/Wo9DmhZ6rks/heres-easy-one-for-me.html" title="Here's an easy one for me..." /><author><name>Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08968258710300437442</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12371736287694897959" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://longdarkwhiteboard.blogspot.com/2008/06/heres-easy-one-for-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>
