<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123</id><updated>2024-11-01T03:44:40.114-07:00</updated><category term="bum"/><category term="burger"/><category term="earl"/><category term="feed"/><category term="help"/><category term="homeless"/><category term="hunger"/><category term="jared"/><category term="mcdonald&#39;s"/><category term="my name is earl"/><category term="outdoorsman"/><category term="sign"/><category term="starving"/><category term="the real earl"/><title type='text'>The Real Earl</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-6245524261723680682</id><published>2011-10-07T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T16:17:17.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To my French Friends</title><content type='html'>J&#39;adore vous, merci de lire mes messages! Je parles Francais en peu, so please take it easy on my grammar. Thanks!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/6245524261723680682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/10/to-my-french-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/6245524261723680682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/6245524261723680682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/10/to-my-french-friends.html' title='To my French Friends'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-5335965673343015607</id><published>2011-05-15T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T23:57:44.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring Back &quot;My Name is Earl&quot;!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS5gOC1Umu4DOhSj77PRRTG_A3S3TwIivKBJndqLO6vuCMuBp18rwMJPMl8vy14sFdVwUW0PlIXsWgqN50vOEGzPHSMLEp-tOpzEIq_xtp-B2lAbIvmBHrL2SCJN_TNR_KJ351hQRxJwr/s1600/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; j8=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS5gOC1Umu4DOhSj77PRRTG_A3S3TwIivKBJndqLO6vuCMuBp18rwMJPMl8vy14sFdVwUW0PlIXsWgqN50vOEGzPHSMLEp-tOpzEIq_xtp-B2lAbIvmBHrL2SCJN_TNR_KJ351hQRxJwr/s320/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Usually I post list items, but I can&#39;t stop thinking about how Earl was such a wonderful show, with such a great following. How could NBC just cancel the show like that, ESPECIALLY with that ending? I know it&#39;s been years now, but, hey... it&#39;s never too late to start anything. So with that said, I suggest we all start petitioning to bring the show back. The message was powerful, the acting was great, the fan base was huge. Its moral showcase changed lives, I mean, look at me! Look what I now do because of Earl. If only corporations cared about the phenomena instead of advertisement dollars, then maybe the world would be a better place. Of all the years network television has&amp;nbsp;ran inspiring shows, and then cancelled due to their competition and advertisers, by now there would probably be less violence and deceit! Who knows, maybe I&#39;m a hopeful, but at least I have my morals. So what do you say Earl fans, help me petition to bring Earl back?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/5335965673343015607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/05/bring-back-my-name-is-earl.html#comment-form' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5335965673343015607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5335965673343015607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/05/bring-back-my-name-is-earl.html' title='Bring Back &quot;My Name is Earl&quot;!!!!!!'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS5gOC1Umu4DOhSj77PRRTG_A3S3TwIivKBJndqLO6vuCMuBp18rwMJPMl8vy14sFdVwUW0PlIXsWgqN50vOEGzPHSMLEp-tOpzEIq_xtp-B2lAbIvmBHrL2SCJN_TNR_KJ351hQRxJwr/s72-c/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-927866628317931014</id><published>2011-04-26T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T11:02:44.780-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bum"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burger"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="earl"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="feed"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="help"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homeless"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hunger"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jared"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mcdonald&#39;s"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my name is earl"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="outdoorsman"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sign"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="starving"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the real earl"/><title type='text'>#34: Never Helped the Homeless</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNBhJeqi-CFwlUhmTiZYNa_Fm5_fjBUivtGyJ5dtJvt3L-Mgig9XAGUR9r36qTY5yBajOZTxxW6cxXQVXQC-Lj6lxQpZeB7XrN0xpNjExO-ctmsJ3wv-2lemv_EPPxiil0ia7Et0mNb-l/s1600/homeless_06.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; i8=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNBhJeqi-CFwlUhmTiZYNa_Fm5_fjBUivtGyJ5dtJvt3L-Mgig9XAGUR9r36qTY5yBajOZTxxW6cxXQVXQC-Lj6lxQpZeB7XrN0xpNjExO-ctmsJ3wv-2lemv_EPPxiil0ia7Et0mNb-l/s320/homeless_06.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I been wanting to do this one for a while, but I never had the right moment. I like to do my list items in the moment, when it feels right, you know? So, I was on my ten minute break from work, when I jetted down to McDonald&#39;s. I saw this man standing there, he looked weak, and frail, probably around the age of 45, but&amp;nbsp;his lifestyle&amp;nbsp;made him look 55. I thought to myself, &quot;Is this Karma telling me it&#39;s time for number 34?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I drove past, and headed for the McDonald&#39;s drive through, ready to get my grub on, but I couldn&#39;t stop thinking about that guy. I couldn&#39;t stop thinking about how tired, and worn he looked, and his shopping cart full of recyclables, which was a precious commodity to him. So, I knew it was time for number 34, and I ordered a bunch of extra food. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Upon receiving the steaming hot meal, I drove back to where the gentleman was. I was nervous, because I know most homeless people just want money for alcohol, and if you give them food, they get pissed and try to bite you. Nonetheless, I stopped right next to him, and I asked, &quot;Do you want some food?&quot; He nodded sadly, and desperately, breaking my heart. I told him to come here, and he approached. I reached down into the bags of food, and pulled out some burgers, and fries and I handed them to him. He looked at me in disbelief, said many blessings to me, and he stared into my eyes, thanking me repeatedly. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know it&#39;s not much, but I felt like I really helped this guy, even if it was just filling his belly up for the night. I plan on continuing getting food for the homeless, but by the look on that guy&#39;s face, I think it&#39;s safe to say this one is a wrap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
#34: Never Helped the Homeless- crossed off!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/927866628317931014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/04/34-never-helped-homeless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/927866628317931014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/927866628317931014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/04/34-never-helped-homeless.html' title='#34: Never Helped the Homeless'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNBhJeqi-CFwlUhmTiZYNa_Fm5_fjBUivtGyJ5dtJvt3L-Mgig9XAGUR9r36qTY5yBajOZTxxW6cxXQVXQC-Lj6lxQpZeB7XrN0xpNjExO-ctmsJ3wv-2lemv_EPPxiil0ia7Et0mNb-l/s72-c/homeless_06.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-4005842471905295616</id><published>2011-01-10T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T09:32:20.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#36 Made Ashley Walk Home in the Rain</title><content type='html'>My wife and I were dating when were were sixteen. She stayed the night one night, and the next morning I was surprised to see my grandparents out front smoking. I lived with my grandparents at the time, but they were supposed to be at work. &lt;br /&gt;
It was raining out, and I couldn&#39;t have Ashley just walk out front and get us caught, so instead of just taking the scorning so my girl could just drive comfortably down the street to her friend&#39;s house and stay dry, I made her go through the back door, and down the alley. She naturally got all soaked, and I never got caught, but I felt bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never really did anything nice for Ashley, even though I try to do awesome things for her birthday. Her birthday is December 26th, so, growing up she always got gypped. I try to make it where she gets to celebrate both Yule, and her birthday separately. I decided to throw her an awesome surprise party, because she has never had a birthday party at all. I invited all of her friends, our family, and every bottle of liquor imaginable.&amp;nbsp; She was so surprised that she almost ran out of the door screaming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the night went on, and the bottles grew empty, I could tell she was having a great time. The party didn&#39;t end until early morning, and I finally made up for being a jerk all those years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWT9Te-kdB1Y1f-VPgnKVPqpYCLQyW-fcyNFAdtudxdepO7BNZpe9Zj5KIfOvduPD1Ak97kCiA3RKZ5w4458st6IIB08PE-pQ_iF7lF6_vOvg3fs5KmAUEKrLQqIFn_1fbPF833UhO7FE/s1600/fun_birthday_cake_card-p137853911390053926tdtq_400.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWT9Te-kdB1Y1f-VPgnKVPqpYCLQyW-fcyNFAdtudxdepO7BNZpe9Zj5KIfOvduPD1Ak97kCiA3RKZ5w4458st6IIB08PE-pQ_iF7lF6_vOvg3fs5KmAUEKrLQqIFn_1fbPF833UhO7FE/s320/fun_birthday_cake_card-p137853911390053926tdtq_400.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#36 Made Ashley Walk Home in the Rain - crossed off</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/4005842471905295616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/01/36-made-ashley-walk-home-in-rain.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/4005842471905295616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/4005842471905295616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2011/01/36-made-ashley-walk-home-in-rain.html' title='#36 Made Ashley Walk Home in the Rain'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWT9Te-kdB1Y1f-VPgnKVPqpYCLQyW-fcyNFAdtudxdepO7BNZpe9Zj5KIfOvduPD1Ak97kCiA3RKZ5w4458st6IIB08PE-pQ_iF7lF6_vOvg3fs5KmAUEKrLQqIFn_1fbPF833UhO7FE/s72-c/fun_birthday_cake_card-p137853911390053926tdtq_400.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-2828505041050899250</id><published>2010-12-06T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T09:16:13.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#19 Told So and So&#39;s S.B. Story</title><content type='html'>So I still feel bad for this one, &#39;cause now he&#39;s broken up with the new girl my wife and I hooked him up with. I&#39;ve realized, it&#39;s not the people I get him to sleep with, it&#39;s the fact that when I told his story of it, I took his confidence away, or at least damaged it farther. I&#39;ve decided to UNCROSS this one, and re-do it. Yes, for the first time ever, a list item will be uncrossed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m getting this cat a whole new wardrobe, new style, hair, image, everything! I&#39;ll be taking him out to parties, and events, and I will tell him what to do, kind of like in &quot;Anger Management&quot;. I will help rebuild his confidence, and maybe then, I can really cross this one off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. Keep an eye out on YouTube, I will be getting a new camera, and taping my list item adventures for you all to see. It will probably start happening this January. Thanks guys, I&#39;ll be seeing ya.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/2828505041050899250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/12/19-told-so-and-sos-sb-story.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/2828505041050899250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/2828505041050899250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/12/19-told-so-and-sos-sb-story.html' title='#19 Told So and So&#39;s S.B. Story'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-7000177988252325355</id><published>2010-11-25T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T09:12:48.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Day</title><content type='html'>So today&#39;s Thanksgiving, and even though my family doesn&#39;t celebrate it like they used to, I&#39;m happy to be with someone today. I&#39;ll be enjoying it with my grandparents, my wife, and my two daughters. Oh, and my &quot;Randy&quot;, who&#39;s name isn&#39;t Randy at all. His name is Kegan Kirkley. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;d like to say that I&#39;m thankful for all of you who read this blog, and those who comment. Without you guys, I wouldn&#39;t have the support necessary to complete my list. I&#39;m also thankful for the people that I&#39;ve crossed off my list, and&amp;nbsp;haven&#39;t punched me in the face. It would&#39;ve hurt, but I would&#39;ve deserved it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I&#39;m writing this, I can smell the food starting to cook, and it&#39;s driving me crazy, mainly because none of us has had breakfast yet, that way we can save room for turkey. All I know is I can really go for a corn dog stick right now. Happy Thanksgiving!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/7000177988252325355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/7000177988252325355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/7000177988252325355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving-day.html' title='Thanksgiving Day'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-5693122682057192179</id><published>2010-11-22T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T08:40:47.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#35 Let So and So S.B. a Navy Girl &amp; #19 Told So and So&#39;s S.B. Story</title><content type='html'>This one&#39;s kind of secret, so I&#39;m not going to say his name. A long time ago, when I was stationed at Camp Pendleton, right before my deployment to Iraq, Some of my friends and I got a hotel, and threw a hotel party. A bunch of people showed up, and some of which were some Navy females. Now, my friend, &quot;So and So&quot;, has always had trouble with girls, so, I took it upon myself to help him out.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7d-ufa7XkEZHOWuwyCSg4N4sowfJIBR-pzyGi4kgwplVJZtA7Zp-PCdGw8oq5FmqaIQmGLkcsbVJ1Wo7F75uRCU_NyGFnbGHFfoReLCnRz6Jm-JATcM-l7ydtzaKUWv9UdhBZL1e8mFb8/s1600/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7d-ufa7XkEZHOWuwyCSg4N4sowfJIBR-pzyGi4kgwplVJZtA7Zp-PCdGw8oq5FmqaIQmGLkcsbVJ1Wo7F75uRCU_NyGFnbGHFfoReLCnRz6Jm-JATcM-l7ydtzaKUWv9UdhBZL1e8mFb8/s320/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;He and I starting to drink some beer to get some liquid courage in him, that way he was more apt to do what I told him. In the mean time, this Navy girl was hooking up with my buddy Holcomb, who was from Oklahoma, and&amp;nbsp; was a stereotypical redneck. After a while, Holcomb came out to brag to me about what he did with this girl, and one of the things he did was well, let&#39;s just say her mouth needed a rinsing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The night went by, and now it was time for &quot;So and So&quot; to make his move. I picked the easiest girl, who just so happened to be the girl Holcomb bragged about. I told my friend what to do, and after a while, things were going good. I told him to plant a kiss on her, so he did, and they made out for a good while. All this time, I had forgotten what this girl did with Holcomb an hour earlier. I immediately halted the actions, and told my friend what had happened, and that I was sorry. He was upset, of course, but it didn&#39;t stop there. The next day, I accidentally let the story slip, and eventually our entire unit knew about it. I really messed this kid up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My wife has a friend she goes to school with, and she was single, so one thing lead to another, and we hooked them up. They hit it off, and they are still talking to this day. He even got to take her to the Marine Corps Ball, which is a pretty big deal to Marines and their dates. If you have the opportunity to go to one, take it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In order to make up for telling the story, a while back (before the girl my wife and I hooked him up with) I hooked him up with another girl, and they both enjoyed each other for a while. Not much later, she ended up using him to buy her stuff, and I told him to stop, but he didn&#39;t want to listen to me. He insisted that he was doing it all on his own, and that he didn&#39;t need my help. Should that one go on my list? Him getting used by a girl I hooked him up with? Or, given the circumstances, should it be ignored, considering it wasn&#39;t my fault? Nonetheless, I&#39;ve crossed off both of the S.B. items, and I can tell that now this guy is really happy. Maybe a little too happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
#19 Told So and So&#39;s S.B. Story- crossed off&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
#35 Let So and So S.B. a Navy Girl- crossed off</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/5693122682057192179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/35-let-so-and-so-sb-navy-girl-19-told.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5693122682057192179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5693122682057192179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/35-let-so-and-so-sb-navy-girl-19-told.html' title='#35 Let So and So S.B. a Navy Girl &amp; #19 Told So and So&#39;s S.B. Story'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7d-ufa7XkEZHOWuwyCSg4N4sowfJIBR-pzyGi4kgwplVJZtA7Zp-PCdGw8oq5FmqaIQmGLkcsbVJ1Wo7F75uRCU_NyGFnbGHFfoReLCnRz6Jm-JATcM-l7ydtzaKUWv9UdhBZL1e8mFb8/s72-c/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-6717591698682844166</id><published>2010-11-07T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T09:21:26.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#3 Ruined Papa&#39;s birthday when I got way too drunk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHovRFA9WaMtqvV2pto98aRb09i40BF5Krr20wREpbZsHADuihOnX6bDPxGFBBBOyAqegTWdYymyISFqa_VxeO-Ycg0meDPO4_1FnLyamRF4btxEwNPOWuSwTuUu6SgimsluYaBrel3Nv/s1600/camera+pic+092.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; px=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHovRFA9WaMtqvV2pto98aRb09i40BF5Krr20wREpbZsHADuihOnX6bDPxGFBBBOyAqegTWdYymyISFqa_VxeO-Ycg0meDPO4_1FnLyamRF4btxEwNPOWuSwTuUu6SgimsluYaBrel3Nv/s320/camera+pic+092.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;Everybody showed up, except for my selfish cousin, who obviously has more issues she needs to deal with than I thought. Papa was surprised to see his old friends from back in the day, standing in our home, waiting for him to walk in, and yelling &quot;surprise&quot;. We all drank, I barbecued (which turned out pretty damn well), and we had cake and ice cream. Everything went well, and this time, I didn&#39;t get too drunk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Later on, at the end of the night, I pulled my list out, and showed Papa. I explained why he was on my list, and he told me that I can cross him off. I didn&#39;t really care if I was able to cross him off or not, I was more interested in seeing him happy, because Papa is more than my grandpa. He&#39;s like my dad. He raised me, and everything I do now, emulates him in a way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
#3 Ruined Papa&#39;s birthday when I got way too drunk- crossed off!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jared Rice&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/6717591698682844166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/3-ruined-papas-birthday-when-i-got-way_07.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/6717591698682844166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/6717591698682844166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/3-ruined-papas-birthday-when-i-got-way_07.html' title='#3 Ruined Papa&#39;s birthday when I got way too drunk'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHovRFA9WaMtqvV2pto98aRb09i40BF5Krr20wREpbZsHADuihOnX6bDPxGFBBBOyAqegTWdYymyISFqa_VxeO-Ycg0meDPO4_1FnLyamRF4btxEwNPOWuSwTuUu6SgimsluYaBrel3Nv/s72-c/camera+pic+092.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-5256002292523916694</id><published>2010-11-02T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T15:00:18.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#3 Ruined Papa&#39;s birthday when I got way too drunk</title><content type='html'>In 2009, it was my grandpa&#39;s (Papa&#39;s) birthday. I was drinking, and hooking up a stereo system at my new house, which I rent from my grandparent&#39;s. My mother, who was there, started to scream at me for&amp;nbsp;no reason, and being an adult, I screamed back. We got into a huge fight, and my freind took me to his house, before my mom and I both said something we couldn&#39;t take back. So, I continued drinking. By this point, I was completely hammered, and on the verge of blacking out. After leaving my buddy&#39;s house, I went to my grandparent&#39;s where I was staying until my house was finished. I began throwing up, and peeing everywhere. I completely ruined Papa&#39;s birthday, and I didn&#39;t even do anything for him on his big day. I feel like such a turd, especially since he is the only father figure I had growing up. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvZTNLQIlBjizcS4nTyxfPA1tyTkk5NyAWD51U6-9BWv5_3cva7pzFNZRqN7W6kDLF2gvpvCKGxI9YmDwQmdfVaOvI6gvWj-r5uo3uNBKCZvKGrNrNeecXVFJX8eRUNxW2jqT9mii5Hah/s1600/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; nx=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvZTNLQIlBjizcS4nTyxfPA1tyTkk5NyAWD51U6-9BWv5_3cva7pzFNZRqN7W6kDLF2gvpvCKGxI9YmDwQmdfVaOvI6gvWj-r5uo3uNBKCZvKGrNrNeecXVFJX8eRUNxW2jqT9mii5Hah/s320/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;To make up&amp;nbsp;for this, I got a hold of my cousin, his granddaughter, Sam, and asked her to come over this Saturday because it&#39;s Pop&#39;s birthday again. My grandparents haven&#39;t seen my cousin Sam since 1998, when my grandma got into an arguement with my aunt, Sam&#39;s mother. Since then, our family has been torn apart, but I asked Sam to come by this Saturday, the 6th, and hang out with Papa. We&#39;ll see what happens.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/5256002292523916694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/3-ruined-papas-birthday-when-i-got-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5256002292523916694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5256002292523916694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/11/3-ruined-papas-birthday-when-i-got-way.html' title='#3 Ruined Papa&#39;s birthday when I got way too drunk'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvZTNLQIlBjizcS4nTyxfPA1tyTkk5NyAWD51U6-9BWv5_3cva7pzFNZRqN7W6kDLF2gvpvCKGxI9YmDwQmdfVaOvI6gvWj-r5uo3uNBKCZvKGrNrNeecXVFJX8eRUNxW2jqT9mii5Hah/s72-c/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-4198729844429255371</id><published>2010-10-19T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T17:45:18.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#12 Shot old people with a paintball gun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCoUR1xyBCfG6aRDLOHK95piRdzdzeJqewmr6VWi-A1j34213uT_CKfJw9Sjq6P4Moye_oxHr-dCfon8IAYDF41Bo9VWSAXgQAGQp1wZSL-sl4_N8LmdjdztY3nisMvkNgWVngiu74px8/s1600/paintball-girl.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; ex=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;280&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCoUR1xyBCfG6aRDLOHK95piRdzdzeJqewmr6VWi-A1j34213uT_CKfJw9Sjq6P4Moye_oxHr-dCfon8IAYDF41Bo9VWSAXgQAGQp1wZSL-sl4_N8LmdjdztY3nisMvkNgWVngiu74px8/s320/paintball-girl.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;Back in 2005, before I joined the Marine Corps, my friend James (kind of like Ralph) and I decided it would be a good idea to drive around, and shoot people with a paintball gun. Now, James is the kind of person who would make you feel guilty about not doing illegal things with him, and you would eventually oblige. So, there we were, driving down the street, unloading hoppers at random people. I remember two people in particular, an old man, and an old woman. They were carrying groceries from Foodmaxx, and we both just let loose on them. We hit them for sure. I know becuase the old man dropped his bags, and grabbed his head, writhing in pain. After this, we drove past an older woman on the phone in her driveway, and at this point, I was jacked. I popped out of the window, and shot her right in the breast. Later that night, we shot up some cop cars, which is also on the list as a later item, but for now, I want to make up for this one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m still working on fixing #10, but Mason is a hard man to track, and for some reason, this one is eating at me. I thought about going to a retirement center, and letting the residents pelt me with a paintball gun, but I don&#39;t know if that really fixes the situation. I&#39;d like to hear back from you all about this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Jared Rice&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/4198729844429255371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/12-shot-old-people-with-paintball-gun.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/4198729844429255371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/4198729844429255371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/12-shot-old-people-with-paintball-gun.html' title='#12 Shot old people with a paintball gun'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGCoUR1xyBCfG6aRDLOHK95piRdzdzeJqewmr6VWi-A1j34213uT_CKfJw9Sjq6P4Moye_oxHr-dCfon8IAYDF41Bo9VWSAXgQAGQp1wZSL-sl4_N8LmdjdztY3nisMvkNgWVngiu74px8/s72-c/paintball-girl.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-7234679453872179584</id><published>2010-10-11T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T13:03:54.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#10 Stole firecrackers from Mason</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjnZzn8PJUD0VDHQRRCcCrU7WxpVx376SAe8lT42CKbpSKFdEc3s1hi_By7rNzvV-nQdphBw_GompFYF0MtrbqPCMsnLFneYdGMYUsuOLnTc0XS51aCA6dQFAotLUh1xGnBk11eJB7TVE/s1600/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; ex=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjnZzn8PJUD0VDHQRRCcCrU7WxpVx376SAe8lT42CKbpSKFdEc3s1hi_By7rNzvV-nQdphBw_GompFYF0MtrbqPCMsnLFneYdGMYUsuOLnTc0XS51aCA6dQFAotLUh1xGnBk11eJB7TVE/s320/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;A long time ago I broke into my &quot;friend&#39;s&quot; house, and stole his firecrackers he had just bought for a big Fourth of July celebration. I was supposed to be his friend, and instead, I stole from him, among other things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Last night, my house was robbed, and the thieves got away with about $700 worth of stuff, including a video camera, and an iPod. A lady who really needed a car part, and had to get home to Visalia came in to where I work, but we don&#39;t stock the part. I told her I had the same car, and she can have her mech pull it off at my house, and give my roomate $11 for it. She gladly obliged, left, and when she went to my house (I was still at work), her and her family robbed my house, and my roomate. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think Karma is telling me to do this list item, but I don&#39;t know how to pay it back, considering I don&#39;t know where to get firecrackers in California. Not to mention, I have to find this guy, which shouldn&#39;t be too difficult. What do you guys think?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/7234679453872179584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/10-stole-firecrackers-from-mason.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/7234679453872179584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/7234679453872179584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/10-stole-firecrackers-from-mason.html' title='#10 Stole firecrackers from Mason'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFjnZzn8PJUD0VDHQRRCcCrU7WxpVx376SAe8lT42CKbpSKFdEc3s1hi_By7rNzvV-nQdphBw_GompFYF0MtrbqPCMsnLFneYdGMYUsuOLnTc0XS51aCA6dQFAotLUh1xGnBk11eJB7TVE/s72-c/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-5185924431782466628</id><published>2010-10-10T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T14:25:10.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#38 Kept important documents from owner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipp4sOVLGBU292VjvePGr0A2bN3BBOKLVQ_E4WSxW64Dwxv7YvyQ_5d_6DIU2ouYIv1LZtAH8uuFXqSi55Am3uQj8NNSTFH-jC8NqicjRDRHttgqQehCB93ymZb-0WOTAg2gmlbqQRWsOD/s1600/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; ex=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipp4sOVLGBU292VjvePGr0A2bN3BBOKLVQ_E4WSxW64Dwxv7YvyQ_5d_6DIU2ouYIv1LZtAH8uuFXqSi55Am3uQj8NNSTFH-jC8NqicjRDRHttgqQehCB93ymZb-0WOTAg2gmlbqQRWsOD/s320/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So, a few years back I was digging through my grandparent&#39;s storage at a mini storage facility, and I&amp;nbsp;found a First Year Baby Calendar. I tossed it aside, not giving it any thought, and only caring about what I found interesting in the pile of junk. Upon later inspection, I saw that the calendar belonged to a family, we didn&#39;t know, and knowing that it was probably important to them, I just left it in the storage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later on, after developing my list, I remembered the baby calendar, and I cycled through the pages, trying to find the owners based on the names inside. It was from 2005 so, now the kid was grown, and the parents could have moved. After searching online for a while, I found that the husband and the wife had split, and they were battling in court due to domestic abuse. I won&#39;t get into detail about it, but finally after three months or so, I got a call back from one of the people I tried. The person&amp;nbsp;turned out to be the grandfather of this kid, and his son wanted to know if he could pick the calendar&amp;nbsp;up. I said yes, and I had the man meet me to get his calendar. He offered to pay me with a reward, but I insisted that he didn&#39;t explaining how I got the thing in the first place. #38 Kept important documents from owner- Crossed off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jared Rice&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. Yes that is a picture of my face pasted on Earl.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/5185924431782466628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/38-kept-important-documents-from-owner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5185924431782466628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/5185924431782466628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/38-kept-important-documents-from-owner.html' title='#38 Kept important documents from owner'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipp4sOVLGBU292VjvePGr0A2bN3BBOKLVQ_E4WSxW64Dwxv7YvyQ_5d_6DIU2ouYIv1LZtAH8uuFXqSi55Am3uQj8NNSTFH-jC8NqicjRDRHttgqQehCB93ymZb-0WOTAg2gmlbqQRWsOD/s72-c/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-3277300868765014966</id><published>2010-10-10T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T14:08:08.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#24 Shot birds with a B.B. gun</title><content type='html'>This one was kind of difficult, considering I would never be able to pay it back to the birds that I shot. Somehow, though, like Karma was talking to me in some way, I got the hint to do this list item because a Dove made its nest in my patio umbrella. Most of the time, I would have shooed it away, but this time, I knew Karma was telling me to do #24. I got some birdseed from my neighbor (who is also on my list), and I fed it, took care of it, and I also got a bird feeder for other birds in the area. Finally, the bird laid her eggs, they hatched, and about a month later, the family of Doves took off, and I knew I could cross off #24 Shot birds with a B.B. gun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jared Rice&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/3277300868765014966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/24-shot-birds-with-bb-gun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/3277300868765014966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/3277300868765014966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/24-shot-birds-with-bb-gun.html' title='#24 Shot birds with a B.B. gun'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-3815153398297006947</id><published>2010-10-10T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T14:03:36.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#5 Littered</title><content type='html'>So #5 on my Karma list is littered. I don&#39;t know how many times I&#39;ve done it, but I know I&#39;ve done it. So, I walked around my entire neighborhood, which consists of 16 blocks, and I picked up garbage. My friend Kegan was with me, (he&#39;s like my Randy, but not dumb), and as I picked up the trash, I started feeling really good about getting my list items crossed off. I filled an entire 5 gallon trash bag, and the neighborhood looked nice for a day. #5 Littered- Crossed off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jared Rice&lt;br /&gt;
The Real Earl</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/3815153398297006947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/5-littered.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/3815153398297006947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/3815153398297006947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/5-littered.html' title='#5 Littered'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-634116938027115123.post-763127036651029500</id><published>2010-10-09T12:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T13:49:14.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Real Earl</title><content type='html'>My name is not Earl Hickey. It&#39;s Jared Rice. After watching the seasons of &quot;My Name is Earl&quot;, I&#39;ve realized that maybe Greg Garcia was on to something. I&#39;ve decided that I would make my own list of terrible things I&#39;ve done, and go around one by one, making up for them. Stick around, and I&#39;ll tell you all about my list, and what has happened with it as I try to make Karma happy.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/feeds/763127036651029500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/real-earl.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/763127036651029500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/634116938027115123/posts/default/763127036651029500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therealearlhickey.blogspot.com/2010/10/real-earl.html' title='The Real Earl'/><author><name>The Real Earl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14145662750398556671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j0AAZUWGjucIxIY4hV5s-c3EYajtcKv2cCVXRIKE8_VXomBVf8ajJefxoccJ_1uqsi35VUX2ztFJd5JpdKTrznKAoujBHC0WZE2gypOFvfDR1BCglKMyrcM6gRvNcg/s220/My_Name_Is_Jared.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>