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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcMQHo8fyp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:38:01.477-08:00</updated><category term="marcel proust" /><category term="sock" /><category term="pictures" /><category term="seethrough" /><category term="liveleak" /><category term="reflection" /><category term="sad" /><category term="funny" /><category term="yucky" /><category term="tights" /><category term="homemade" /><category term="dreamlover" /><category term="streamers" 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term="painting" /><category term="best friend" /><title>to hate you is to love you, to love you is to kill you.</title><subtitle type="html">letters, thoughts and rants between friends hunky and bob.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</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/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou" /><feedburner:info uri="tohateyouistoloveyoutoloveyouistokillyou" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UCQH48fyp7ImA9WxVVEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-4694306588685322417</id><published>2009-03-03T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T22:47:41.077-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-03T22:47:41.077-08:00</app:edited><title>you make me feel</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SyolMNsN0Ig&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SyolMNsN0Ig&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-4694306588685322417?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/o-6biB_vza8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/4694306588685322417/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=4694306588685322417" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4694306588685322417?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4694306588685322417?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/o-6biB_vza8/you-make-me-feel.html" title="you make me feel" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SYTYnGmknpI/AAAAAAAAAa4/nRR5IP_j-Wg/S220/Photo+110.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-make-me-feel.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYCRX4-fip7ImA9WxVQGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-6370579881960453034</id><published>2009-02-04T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T18:16:04.056-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-04T18:16:04.056-08:00</app:edited><title>It never felt like this before</title><content type="html">I have never had this feeling before.&lt;br /&gt;Every love I endoured before this was not really love.&lt;br /&gt;It was a label that men put on me to make me do what they want&lt;br /&gt;To use and have control of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inappropriate Troy said it best to me last weekend right before he aggressively put his toungue in my mouth&lt;br /&gt;The thing that seems amazing about you two is that you really get each other&lt;br /&gt;At the time all i could think about was the kiss and if gay boys enjoyed that as women are surely more sensual......&lt;br /&gt;But he was right in his drunken gabber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do get each other,&lt;br /&gt;I have never felt a love that is about encouraging self discovery.&lt;br /&gt;Love is not angry or jealous or thrown around in fights&lt;br /&gt;it is secure and strong and beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was once told one day you will just know.&lt;br /&gt;I waited a long time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After years of communication via email and energy we have now come together and i feel it is forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going through change, chance and excitement of what the future holds&lt;br /&gt;In discovering my sexuality and looking at life from a different perspective.&lt;br /&gt;I now feel the luckiest woman alive to have finally a healthy love&lt;br /&gt;It never felt like this before&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-6370579881960453034?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/aFUEXHYmKd8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/6370579881960453034/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=6370579881960453034" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/6370579881960453034?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/6370579881960453034?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/aFUEXHYmKd8/it-never-felt-like-this-before.html" title="It never felt like this before" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-never-felt-like-this-before.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08HQn05cSp7ImA9WxVRFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-1188752929551197095</id><published>2009-01-19T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T20:30:33.329-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-19T20:30:33.329-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="apologies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hate" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bitch" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blah blah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action figure" /><title>house cleaning and comic book scenarios</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;this year i am cleaning up. sweeping the floors of my relationships and straightening out the shelves of my life. this is not an easy task. I found it to be both humbling and initially draining. i have started to re-evaluate anger and unresolved issues with other people and i do think i have peace with most. i have even tried to contact a once good friend and tried to make amends. after all time heals all wounds, no? but to my disappointment she was not ready for such closure. i understand it is easier to leave things untidy, than uncover what is underneath. so all i can do is extend the olive branch and the rest is up to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;but there is one perplexing woman whom i only know through hearsay and gossip (and vice versa) that absolutely hates me! we have mutual friends and acquaintances; she even befriended a beloved friend of mine, only to try and convince him how evil i am! i don't know how to handle her because she is one offensive stink, reeking of unreasonable animosity and blinding hate. i cannot understand this is, because i have never felt like this about anyone. i want to confront her but her track record suggest to me she is prone to violence. i do not want to go there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;i do want this year surrounded by love and happiness. i do not hate her, but her aura radiates and i do not want to deal with all her baggage any longer! thinking about writing the reasons as to why she can possibly hate me without knowing me bores me. it is baseless, rooted by jealousy and insecurities. i occasionally hear about how she had talked about me and it does bother me. i feel like she purposely plants messages of hate knowing it would make it's way back to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;i hope one day this will finally be put to rest. i hope she finds peace and quit making so much noise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;i am somewhat fascinated by her however, and i feel that she feels the same. she is like a tornado that never stops spinning randomly destroying innocent things. everything i've heard her say about me is exactly what i've heard about her and worse! she has proclaimed herself my nemesis...can you believe that? i admit that i am a bit flattered. to think i have a nemesis!! like i am this superhero fighting poison ivy. or perhaps i am poison ivy in her made up comic book scenario?  should start thinking about my colors and put together my costume, i feel an epic battle coming soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SXVSpomK7cI/AAAAAAAAAaI/s9Fc5QVNnO8/s1600-h/poison-ivy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 313px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SXVSpomK7cI/AAAAAAAAAaI/s9Fc5QVNnO8/s200/poison-ivy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293227812269518274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-1188752929551197095?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/Vc5BjNfBDEg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/1188752929551197095/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=1188752929551197095" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/1188752929551197095?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/1188752929551197095?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/Vc5BjNfBDEg/house-cleaning-and-comic-book-scenarios.html" title="house cleaning and comic book scenarios" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SXVSpomK7cI/AAAAAAAAAaI/s9Fc5QVNnO8/s72-c/poison-ivy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2009/01/house-cleaning-and-comic-book-scenarios.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFQHY6fCp7ImA9WxVSEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-6856054586117882331</id><published>2009-01-05T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T23:18:31.814-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-05T23:18:31.814-08:00</app:edited><title>catch my breath</title><content type="html">That feeling of having pressure in your lungs and in your stomach&lt;br /&gt;The anxiety of the unknown&lt;br /&gt;The fear of the possibilities&lt;br /&gt;How has this made me feel free and enables my spirit when&lt;br /&gt;All past visions have only broken my heart&lt;br /&gt;For the first time i feel ~free~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-6856054586117882331?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/ysQrbmD8txY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/6856054586117882331/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=6856054586117882331" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/6856054586117882331?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/6856054586117882331?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/ysQrbmD8txY/catch-my-breath.html" title="catch my breath" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2009/01/catch-my-breath.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANQHgyfCp7ImA9WxVSE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-3705743722176226357</id><published>2009-01-02T05:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T23:13:11.694-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-07T23:13:11.694-08:00</app:edited><title>stuck in limbo</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;i am stuck in limbo, good thing i got my laptop and cigarettes to fill my time. i am between flights on my way home. i am not sure exactly how i feel about coming home, since i really don't know what i am coming home to. nothing is certain and everything is changing. it is now 2009 and i have so many plans for the new year. not quite sure how or where to start. i have a list of resolutions and i am still at the stage of optimism and eagerness that i will follow through with them. they are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;1. go to the gym - this is a direct result of having spent majority of my vacation sleeping and eating, sleeping and eating, etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;2. take a class in a. creative writing b. public speaking or something completely frivolous like singing or dance class - i need to do something with my spare time other than just sleeping or drinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;3. completely rearrange my apartment to reflect my new work focused year, like turning my bedroom to my studio space and my livingroom into my bedroom/lounging space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;4. save more money. or at least be wise with how i spend it. no more expensive clothes i can't afford. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;5. be more organized with all aspects of my life to help be realize the above resolutions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;wish me luck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-3705743722176226357?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/B8DLmAGMidI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/3705743722176226357/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=3705743722176226357" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/3705743722176226357?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/3705743722176226357?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/B8DLmAGMidI/stuck-in-limbo.html" title="stuck in limbo" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2009/01/stuck-in-limbo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08MRno4cCp7ImA9WxRaFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-30109263592243498</id><published>2008-12-16T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T07:04:47.438-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-16T07:04:47.438-08:00</app:edited><title>ramifications</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Del&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;May 3 at 1:20pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;a long time ago you said that people have said stuff about me and you defended me. who and what did they say, exactly?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i suppose you can't defend me anymore. sorry this is old news but it is important for me to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i need to unload, since i cannot talk to anyone about this. it has been eating at me and texting does not close things off for me. there are so many reasons to say sorry,and many different kinds - genuine apologies to spiteful ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;you are my friend. but there are borders that have been crossed and i am so mad at myself for taking part in blurring those boundaries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;you have been so worried that i will spill the beans, probably because of what happened with S. But S and I actually saw each other regularly, and we really thought something was there. he even stayed with me at the hospital when i got sick. don't ask.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;but with you it's different. i am the girl you texted after dark and when drinks were involved. do you really think i want people to know i put myself in that spot willingly? but the reasons i did are even more ------- and that is why i am muted by my own skeletons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i really hope we can start fresh and be friends in the traditional sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;p.s. i am really proud of you, you have grown into a man, since i first met you. i can only think of one reason for this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May 5 at 4:49pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ive defended you in many ways. i think largely due to the fact that you are an odd person with various ways of approching certain situations that others may heave delt with in a different fashion. i think this oddness is what men find attractive. your qualities are more then that. but things that were said of you were not said in a harmful or hurtful way. they were more like questioning why you do things the way you do. at the time i felt i was in a position to give my opinion on the way you operate because we are good friends and i felt maybe this could help shed some light on the kind of person you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can and will still defend you if the opportunity arises. i dont think that i know anyone that would want to hurt you. even though A can be a bit crazy she means well most of the time and has trouble controlling her emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think maybe we got ourselves into this situation because we were both looking to fill a void weather it be short term or not. and instead of looking forward and seeing the ramifications we decided to turn a blind eye. not always the better choice as we can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel awful for letting my tounge slip about you and sat. i always was on your side in that and always will be. i dont thinik either one of you did anything wrong. it got blown up. im very sorry for that. and will require your forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were friends before and i believe we will be friends after. i have no reason to not. i enjoy your company your encouragement your outlook and your ability to have more then two gins. please do not let it eat you up. be mad at yourself just as iam and move on. you cant spend the rest of your life hating the things you did in regret. your a very intellegent lady. you just sometimes make a bad choice or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;move on from any feelings you might have for a certain exboyfriend. it does no good. there are things i wish i could change in myself. the trouble is some of them dont want the change. and others do. so im working on changing those instead. you however can not continue to go back to ex boyfriends with your tail between your legs and ask to come home. it does not work that way and you will be better for it. i think. your all grows up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you for telling me ive become a man in your view. i do feel a change however im not sure why that is. it may come to me sometime. im also trying to make better decisions it just doesnt always work out that way. i hope i have been a help. i know you have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Del&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May 6 at 8:08pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i'm sorry..i have to write and not think the lines in between are as crystal to you as they are to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i didnt bring up the sat thing because i'm sore about it. i was trying to tell you that that case was different. i knew it was not permanent but it was needed at the time. it was not meant to outlive itself. and things happened the way they did for a reason. i can't hold that against you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i said goodbye to the person in calgary.but not before my last attempt to hold on to something i thought was the one thing that was missing. but time, even when it feels like torture has always been a friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;leave it you to call me "odd". i have been called weird, or eccentric or different. but they all sound a bit lighthearted or jokey. but you are straight up or to the point. sometimes your words strike me like an anvil. but it's good. just like your apartment in the city that feels like you're in the woods in a cabin, it is comforting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;i lied when i said i didn't like you from the start. i don't know what it was...it was as if i can say something completely off, and you just might understand. does that make sense? i don't know why i lied, i guess telling my feelings make me feel vulnerable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;one of the things i really value in you is your ability to make me feel like i am protected. this is important because i am always independent, and it's nice to let that go even for a moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;and i am sorry for what happened with us, not for me but because i don't want you to stress about it or worry about me. it's awful to know i am someone's regret. you are never mine. i think the things i have done are not bad choices, but maybe just doesn't fall in the right order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;no matter what i am your friend. there's a seed in my heart, but i am trying not to water it. i too am trying to live up to my age. it's just hard sometimes, cause i guess i am a bit of a dreamer...or an odd duck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-30109263592243498?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/0YpXHVU6Ezs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/30109263592243498/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=30109263592243498" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/30109263592243498?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/30109263592243498?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/0YpXHVU6Ezs/ramifications.html" title="ramifications" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/12/ramifications.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UGQXw-eCp7ImA9WxRbE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-4174696563866950505</id><published>2008-12-02T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:53:40.250-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-03T18:53:40.250-08:00</app:edited><title>love is like the alphabet</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;everybody is chasing everybody. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;b&lt;/span&gt; likes &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; and so does &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;, but &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt;'s bud &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt; is in love with &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt; - who can’t even think about it. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; is busy trying to get &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; to fall in love but he is a heartless fuck. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;b&lt;/span&gt; will treat her right and everyone knows, but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sexfire&lt;/span&gt; isn't there and who wants to be with someone who's all smoke? &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; have hidden sessions without love, and time can only hold the haze for so long. t is reeling over a broken relationship that truly broke him. but he’s trying to get over it by jumping back on the wagon, but packed the wagon full. why sabotage? want but want not and snake's just tying to get his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt; is friends with &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; who she hates and loves and secretly cast death curses on - the bitch got hero's heart on her heels. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt; used to be together, though more on &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;’s part than &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;, cause n can’t help but have more than one thing going on. the circle just keeps getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dizzyin&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;br /&gt;meanwhile &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; are battling in another city for reel tapes with &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt;. though this half hearted fight is dying into reciprocating bitch slaps, its no drama but a way of life.&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; s&lt;/span&gt; just loves stirring the pot while &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; is claiming his red hydrant. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r &lt;/span&gt;met &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; who became&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; t&lt;/span&gt;'s ex. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; is buds with &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; whom she loved unrequited. but &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; loves &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k &lt;/span&gt;(or to be more accurate - LOVED) like no other and saw her not. hate fueled, the story burns on. revenge of heart takes center stage and a vows vindication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time becomes buffer and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; crashed into &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;. love it was but sour it resulted. it was a house of oil and water. it was a noble effort and a period of time was consumed trying to make salad dressing. but no matter how you shake it, things still fall on two different levels. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; was once &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt;’s life but the smothering effect made &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; like wet soap. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; was her water and she stood melting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; found another &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;, but claims of incestuous acts fettered the dream. crazy cousins should not be left alone within closed quarters and goodbyes are said once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mossying&lt;/span&gt; along and along and along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;winter's here and every one's fighting for warmth. or love or both, or not. things are messed and tussled hair cannot help these souls. evil and good can no longer be distinguished. moving on with gum soles that cheat you into seeing rose apparitions. good seems bad and bad seems so, so so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; is ripping up &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; like &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt; is ripping up &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt; like &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;b&lt;/span&gt; is getting ripped. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt; have no idea what they are standing on and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; is the tornado that rages through the thing &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; is stopping and starting. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; is a pawn like so many of the toy soldiers that fight for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;then there is r&amp;amp;f that look the same though f in r&amp;amp;f is married which kills and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fertilizes&lt;/span&gt; the hope. r of r&amp;amp;f seems a sliver of an essence.  two dimensional dreams doesn't do anyone good awake. f is for fuck like how everyone is fucked and everyone is alone. sex is just another way to connect, but sometimes that can’t even do the trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are hard t - says k in her weeping aching way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but t mossies along, does his thing and bangs her till she’s hurting again.&lt;br /&gt;who am i to say toy soldiers do not matter? or raging tornadoes or heartless fucks and crazy cousins and wet soap? we are all done, and done and done again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-4174696563866950505?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/5Rmaxxd1nOE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/4174696563866950505/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=4174696563866950505" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4174696563866950505?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4174696563866950505?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/5Rmaxxd1nOE/love-is-like-alphabet.html" title="love is like the alphabet" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/12/love-is-like-alphabet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08NSHk4eSp7ImA9WxRbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7291392974237683428</id><published>2008-12-02T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T13:04:59.731-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-02T13:04:59.731-08:00</app:edited><title>worst sex ever</title><content type="html">last night was the worst. it was no strings attached, exemplified by no kissing and no cuddling, straight, no fuss sex. it felt clinical, like it was the last resort aside from rubbing against a tree. horrible. i don't get it. we have had amazing sex before. what happened? can you tell me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7291392974237683428?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/Zn7K5poe_ZM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7291392974237683428/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7291392974237683428" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7291392974237683428?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7291392974237683428?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/Zn7K5poe_ZM/worst-sex-ever.html" title="worst sex ever" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/12/worst-sex-ever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cGRnoyeSp7ImA9WxRQF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-2160697379236822051</id><published>2008-10-11T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T15:43:47.491-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-11T15:43:47.491-07:00</app:edited><title>What am i thinking???</title><content type="html">And because I want to be always honest about my thoughts between our freindship. I appologize if I ramble a bit here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm  so where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this to come out with clarity and want to try not to have this sound too complicated&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling a bit confused and uncomfortable i guess and I feel I am at a bit of a transitional point where i need to make decisions and want to do them and have everyone be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Burning man especially I started to give this more thought.  It is a fresh start for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have been home in Canada I can't even tell you how nice it is to spend time with you and slowly I feel like I am getting into the groove of being home and it feels good. So much of our freindship was over long distance and I can't even tell you how much that freindship, support, and acceptance has been appreciated over these last few years. You hold a very special place to me and I know that we will be in each others lives for a long time. I want to always be your freind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left at a weird time and it is really nice to be able to work on so many of the friendships that I started before I left. It is an amazing, unique group of people that I have been able to spend so much time with since i have been home and it is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling happy and slowly with moving back out, looking at real job etc.&lt;br /&gt;The Burn maybe signifies a new start as well and I want to begin my new year with as many good feelings as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My freindship connection with you feels is in a strange place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose too when we were talking yesterday about relationships that I am not sure if they work I also thought about the reasons why I was feeling that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just really want honesty in every area of my life and to be very aware of myself..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I look around and see happy, healthy relationships; rae and jamez, kale and hitoshi etc. they are very few and far.  And although there are those that are good there are so many surrounding me with disonesty, manipulation and expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is most of my freindships that I prefer to put more of my energy and those with my family as they seem more stable or real. Which made me think about what you said about us all being in types of relationships with each other on some level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I considered this. My main reason for always wanting to stay single is I tend to always end up in these situations where i am being dishonest with another and mostly what makes me feel even worse is that I am being dishonest with myself. (I hope I am still making sense here) and i really value freedom and maybe being in this situation with you in making me value it more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But within our relationship/freindship i want there to be complete honesty.,&lt;br /&gt;I really like you Kane. I always smile when I get  your texts and they did always did in Aus too, and I do often think of you in very good ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do understand your situation though and have been thinking about it more recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is funny. I look at you and only assciate you with you. Not with Lisa. It is almost like she does not really exist in my mind. Maybe cuz I dont want her too, or maybe it is because we have had this connection for years that she really had no involvement in.&lt;br /&gt; I know she is there and everything but i am not taking into consideration her place in your life and i need to always think of that too.&lt;br /&gt;She is your partner, you have built a life with her; you live together. and I am a problem. regardless of discussions, if Lisa is fully honest, she does not like me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she does not want you around me. and I can;t even say I blame her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have already had bad feelings in this sitiation twice however. Once with when we spent the night together at your place and once at shambahla. I feel like i am a secret maybe or that I am just ignored as part of your life from her. Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a part of me that does not really understand how these things can be rectified either. How I should have done things differently since I have been home?. The part I have played in this? At shambahla I too realized that I was more of a problem then I initially thought I.  did not know the rules of your relationship with Lisa but certainly did not think that i would be the exception to the open relationship rules but i am and this has made it complicated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The person that I have to take care of though in this is me and I do not want to have any hurt or bad feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all part of the same group of freinds and I do not care what others think but i do not want to feel uncomfortable at a party, festival, that I am a bad person or doing something that I should not. My intention is never to hurt or not think of others feelings.&lt;br /&gt;I am now uncomfortable around Lisa and feel that it is being dishonest with myself to try and make some sort of connection with her. At this point I do not like her. I have thought about asking her to get together but think that at this point too this is not a good decision.&lt;br /&gt; But I will respect her place as your girlfreind though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I can be bad too as i dont say no to you. It almost like I cant....  I want to touch you and kiss and ... and... and  :... :o)~&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like I want to confide in you about what I do sexually with others as well but this is weird as well I think as it is most likely inappropriate.&lt;br /&gt;This is getting complicated and I need to make things simple or atleast to know your thoughts. Our lines of our freindship are pretty swayed. I want to make clear this in no way is a altimatime (spell check please) or a choice you need to make,. I just need to know what your thought are and what it is that you want.&lt;br /&gt;This is about choices I need to make for myself.  Your happiness is a big priority too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also dont think that with our connection it is a good idea that we are sexual together when you have a partner. That would make me feel like the other woman or some craziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think you and I can be just physical as there is so much between us, but it seems slowly in some ways where things are going and although there is a part of me that really wants that there is another part I feel I need to protect myself because of the circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of right now my feelings are completely managable and I feel undercontrol but i might not be able to later.&lt;br /&gt;I can be part of yours and maybe lisa's life. Be your freind. But then I  need to get myslef out of having a crush for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I am not jealous or insecure but it is when other people talk about you and Lisa, just in passing that it makes it real to me that there is a part that I am not fully understanding and I need too. It is not even that I am jealous of Lisa as in some ways I think she is probably much better for you. I think I am pretty opposite of her in most ways. I need some sort of clarity though on what is going on your head. &lt;br /&gt;I am not ok with Lisa effecting any part of my life so I am needing to hear your thoughts before I just do what I need too to ensure that she is not.&lt;br /&gt;I am the person I care most about in this.&lt;br /&gt;What do you want to see happenning here Kane? What is your ideal situation? Be fully honest with me as I am being with you. I want to spend more time with you but is this really what you think is the best idea and being honest with everyone?&lt;br /&gt;There is a big part of me that wants to be with you more but I am protecting myself, and I dont want to be around secretly hoping you are going to break up with your girlfreind. I need to make sense of this though and more forward.&lt;br /&gt;What my ideal situation is that if things worked the way I wanted is obviously that you would be single and free.  I think you already know what I want though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant even believe that I am writing this to you as it is unlike me to do so. My hubby though, (who is the only person I have confided any of feelings too in case you ever wonder) encouraged me that I should. He is right. It is important to be clear about what your wants and whatnot are, .&lt;br /&gt;i feel like a part of me must be crazy and from an outside perspective I ask what am i maybe even getting involved in? Maybe I am so out in left field too that my feelings and maybe you see things so differently?  I would be so much safer to just walk away from this whole situation and put my energy elsewhere. You are in my thoughts often though and I am needing to make sense of this.&lt;br /&gt;I am not even sure how long I am going to stay in Calgary most days but I think what is really bothering me in this is that there feels to be some level of dishonesty and miscommunication between us.&lt;br /&gt;I will always be honest about my feelings and thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you are having a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Gillian&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-2160697379236822051?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/jE1jH5vKba8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/2160697379236822051/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=2160697379236822051" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/2160697379236822051?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/2160697379236822051?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/jE1jH5vKba8/what-am-i-thinking.html" title="What am i thinking???" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-am-i-thinking.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8CRHw_cCp7ImA9WxRSEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-5367105685058268613</id><published>2008-09-11T19:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T20:07:45.248-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-11T20:07:45.248-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="apologies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heartbreak" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="facebook" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dismantle" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sad" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bitch" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blah blah" /><title>quitting facebook and evil surfacing</title><content type="html">it's worse than quitting cigarettes. i hate it. what can i do? it's only my pride that is keeping me from going back. i have tried quitting before and like a fool everyone saw me get off and on again. i don't want to do that anymore. but how to i keep in touch with everyone and no one? i actually feel lonely and friendless. but maybe that has nothing to do with facebook withdrawal and everything do to with what happened last saturday. i saw the worst of myself that night. with alcohol completely blameless, i hurt someone that was so innocent, for something that was not worth it at all. i can't really talk about what i did, but suffice to say, i am so deeply ashamed i just want to lay low for a while. i did not act alone, but of course this person, whenever i get into trouble with him, always seem to get off scott free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to care about him, and residual feelings for him may have played a factor in the events that transpired. but no longer. it is not worth the effort, the trouble and the pain. i caused a good friend grief and i am afraid our relationship cannot be salvaged. i ran into my friend just yesterday, and i couldn't address the issue. i just stood there spewing small talk like there was nothing wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do not like this reckless thoughtless person i have become. i need to seriously regain some good traits i lost along the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-5367105685058268613?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/0oF6Fil5lek" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/5367105685058268613/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=5367105685058268613" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/5367105685058268613?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/5367105685058268613?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/0oF6Fil5lek/quitting-facebook-and-evil-surfacing.html" title="quitting facebook and evil surfacing" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/09/quitting-facebook-and-evil-surfacing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUHSHo5cCp7ImA9WxdaE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-4021465985219159124</id><published>2008-08-21T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T17:17:19.428-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-21T17:17:19.428-07:00</app:edited><title>sleep over</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SK4DX7M3CcI/AAAAAAAAATw/5UxLKitR0V4/s1600-h/page10001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SK4DX7M3CcI/AAAAAAAAATw/5UxLKitR0V4/s200/page10001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237127126241970626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-4021465985219159124?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/bKkg1GaWPko" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/4021465985219159124/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=4021465985219159124" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4021465985219159124?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4021465985219159124?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/bKkg1GaWPko/sleep-over.html" title="sleep over" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SK4DX7M3CcI/AAAAAAAAATw/5UxLKitR0V4/s72-c/page10001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/08/sleep-over.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4MQX8_eip7ImA9WxdaEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7999283888047172798</id><published>2008-08-19T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T18:49:40.142-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-19T18:49:40.142-07:00</app:edited><title>dress 1 - modified pattern</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e201781c48256dd1" 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&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7999283888047172798?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/2EHt9j-x0Sc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="enclosure" type="video/mp4" href="http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e201781c48256dd1&amp;type=video%2Fmp4" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7999283888047172798/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7999283888047172798" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7999283888047172798?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7999283888047172798?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/2EHt9j-x0Sc/dress-1-modified-pattern.html" title="dress 1 - modified pattern" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/08/dress-1-modified-pattern.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEADRX06eCp7ImA9WxdaEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-5708762362670142024</id><published>2008-08-17T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T18:46:14.310-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-19T18:46:14.310-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="all about sex" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fake" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="story" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fantasy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dreamlover" /><title>apple party</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;i was really excited about this dream from the moment i woke up. from beginning to end it was so new and different like it was not coming from my subconscious. it was the most unique sexual dream i have ever had. i call it the apple party. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was living in an apartment with a communal rec room, almost as large as a highschool basketball court. a boy who wanted to impress me decided to throw a kind of party i have never been to. he invited all kinds of people. i have no idea how he was able to round up 100 people so last minute but he did. there was nothing prepared but   apples on a table. there was no music and the lighting was stark florescent lights. it was awful and i couldn't imagine anyone having fun. then people started trickling in. and people started dividing themselves up automatically, men on one side, and the women stood on the other side. when everyone had arrived, the appointed host took a mic and and simply said, "now!". and that was when the energy of the room changed from this static stale mist to a vibrating thumping anxious and wild molasses that smothered everyone. the men  and women ran towards each other like animals and when they met in the middle, they paired up; whoever was the nearest.the room was overcome with this sexual noise of moans and groans. all the womens were giving their partner the best blow job the men had ever had. and in unison, they came, their voices came together like a choir singing a holy gospel. this was where the apple played their integral part. the women held the apple up and it was given a milky white coating. i soon realized it was a game - to give your partner so much orgasmic pleasure as to cover the whole red of a macintosh. after a brief interlude the host spoke again, again only one word. this elicited another combination of eager couples, only it was the men that gave women oral pleasure. there were some women who wore long skirts that were lifted to their necks, while others wore mini skirts that gave way to everything with one simple move of the legs. the men seemed hungry and there were only apples available. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this went on for a few rounds and i was a bystander. it was a vicarious treat for me to see everyone so overcome with passion. it was raw and uninhibited. everyone was on the floor from exhaustion when it was over. everyone won, it was communal love. it was my first apple party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-5708762362670142024?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/D5Mr1fViAUc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/5708762362670142024/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=5708762362670142024" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/5708762362670142024?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/5708762362670142024?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/D5Mr1fViAUc/apple-party.html" title="apple party" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/08/apple-party.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYEQ3YzcSp7ImA9WxdbFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-294732330006391810</id><published>2008-08-11T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:48:22.889-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-11T22:48:22.889-07:00</app:edited><title>so glad to see you</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-12df41de71649123" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-294732330006391810?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/K_6Ov5ncVVU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="enclosure" type="video/mp4" href="http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=12df41de71649123&amp;type=video%2Fmp4" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/294732330006391810/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=294732330006391810" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/294732330006391810?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/294732330006391810?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/K_6Ov5ncVVU/so-glad-to-see-you.html" title="so glad to see you" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-glad-to-see-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUFR3c5cCp7ImA9WxdbFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-4549416687958010157</id><published>2008-08-11T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T21:10:16.928-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-11T21:10:16.928-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="connections" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="letter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blah blah" /><title>dear ronald, this is a letter</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SKEMYQuhLcI/AAAAAAAAATo/h55EF7rSrj8/s1600-h/IMAGE0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SKEMYQuhLcI/AAAAAAAAATo/h55EF7rSrj8/s200/IMAGE0001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233477852927700418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SKEL0iOzSEI/AAAAAAAAATg/MH53cacTYOM/s1600-h/IMAGE0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SKEL0iOzSEI/AAAAAAAAATg/MH53cacTYOM/s200/IMAGE0002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233477239151216706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-4549416687958010157?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/ia1dqpNKhOs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/4549416687958010157/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=4549416687958010157" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4549416687958010157?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/4549416687958010157?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/ia1dqpNKhOs/dear-ronald-this-is-letter.html" title="dear ronald, this is a letter" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SKEMYQuhLcI/AAAAAAAAATo/h55EF7rSrj8/s72-c/IMAGE0001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/08/dear-ronald-this-is-letter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4ARHY-cCp7ImA9WxdVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7979408665251943676</id><published>2008-07-15T14:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:22:25.858-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-15T14:22:25.858-07:00</app:edited><title>Love vs Respect</title><content type="html">I cannot fathom what is going to happen in the next couple of months?&lt;br /&gt;I cannot have a boyfreind? Not one that does not know my life?&lt;br /&gt;I need my freedom still.....Oh but why are you stressed you say?&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be responsible for anyone else's happiness. I am not ready.&lt;br /&gt;I am on the inside screaming and full on panick.&lt;br /&gt;I am bringing you to burning man and we will see where our connection lies.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be with someone who thinks they are lucky and special to be with you. Although&lt;br /&gt;I do feel these things. It is not full heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind is all over the place. Apologies.&lt;br /&gt;I must be honest with myself first and foremost.&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7979408665251943676?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/TGxxgAfMIi4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7979408665251943676/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7979408665251943676" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7979408665251943676?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7979408665251943676?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/TGxxgAfMIi4/love-vs-respect.html" title="Love vs Respect" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-vs-respect.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEASXczeip7ImA9WxdVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-1176326744887725221</id><published>2008-07-15T14:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:17:28.982-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-15T14:17:28.982-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB5DjLk10Zs"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB5DjLk10Zs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-1176326744887725221?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/3CqZ36-HgpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/1176326744887725221/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=1176326744887725221" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/1176326744887725221?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/1176326744887725221?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/3CqZ36-HgpU/httpwww_15.html" title="" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/07/httpwww_15.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIAQXs9eyp7ImA9WxdVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-569266337064756039</id><published>2008-07-15T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:15:40.563-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-15T14:15:40.563-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB5DjLk10Zs"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB5DjLk10Zs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-569266337064756039?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/la_iZQNWOXw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/569266337064756039/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=569266337064756039" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/569266337064756039?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/569266337064756039?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/la_iZQNWOXw/httpwww.html" title="" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/07/httpwww.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYASXo5eCp7ImA9WxdXGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7935670653376642562</id><published>2008-06-30T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T20:15:48.420-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-30T20:15:48.420-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reflection" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="words" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rambling" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="time travel" /><title>refund</title><content type="html">i forgot my reasons for moving. i forgot about my ideals and what i left behind to find it. it's been two years and i stopped looking. i'm at a different place but i regressed. instead i find myself chasing after other people's dreams and not my own. i got caught up in trying to grow up. and all of a sudden there's an empty void inside that i myself have carved out of me. why the self sabotage? i do want love, i do want happiness. then why did i let that part of myself that believed go? there is no more whimsy, instead the cold hard facts of life remain. if this is what it means to be an adult, i want a refund.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7935670653376642562?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/N1XI-VqxYqs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7935670653376642562/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7935670653376642562" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7935670653376642562?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7935670653376642562?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/N1XI-VqxYqs/refund.html" title="refund" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/06/refund.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQMRX87fCp7ImA9WxdXFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-3595697110069657954</id><published>2008-06-26T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T12:59:44.104-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-26T12:59:44.104-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I dont understand. Or maybe I do. Maybe I am just making excuses ... or lying to myself or to you and saying it is the truth when really underneath i really dont want to be her freind. Maybe i dont like her. Maybe I dont want to so then&lt;em&gt; still have permission by myself to want you for me....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like we had a connection on Friday. I understand why she worries. i understand as she is right. I like you and want you to be free.&lt;br /&gt;I dont even know if I want you. Probably maybe not to keep but i like options open to me....&lt;br /&gt;I feel sad kind of.&lt;br /&gt;Open relationship?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-3595697110069657954?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/yDrc28oCqj8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/3595697110069657954/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=3595697110069657954" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/3595697110069657954?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/3595697110069657954?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/yDrc28oCqj8/i-dont-understand.html" title="" /><author><name>Hunky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00912684438946871658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-dont-understand.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAESX08cCp7ImA9WxRaEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-8183540953173277341</id><published>2008-06-23T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T07:18:28.378-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-11T07:18:28.378-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sweet" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pictures" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny" /><title>cavity inducing</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB9BuIontI/AAAAAAAAATE/jHMU3XsFrxA/s1600-h/DSC01827.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB9BuIontI/AAAAAAAAATE/jHMU3XsFrxA/s200/DSC01827.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215305837012623058" border="0" /&gt;****&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB9CByQ4oI/AAAAAAAAATM/TedhReVKYGs/s1600-h/DSC01826.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB9CByQ4oI/AAAAAAAAATM/TedhReVKYGs/s200/DSC01826.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215305842287501954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;these kids are so sweet they have sugar clouds dancing round their wee heads&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-8183540953173277341?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/J0lzfTg3Hmg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/8183540953173277341/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=8183540953173277341" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/8183540953173277341?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/8183540953173277341?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/J0lzfTg3Hmg/these-kids-are-so-sweet-they-have-sugar.html" title="cavity inducing" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB9BuIontI/AAAAAAAAATE/jHMU3XsFrxA/s72-c/DSC01827.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/06/these-kids-are-so-sweet-they-have-sugar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAESXYyeip7ImA9WxRaEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7654578945171355296</id><published>2008-06-23T21:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T07:18:28.892-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-11T07:18:28.892-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="progression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="k" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="painting" /><title>looking for structure in all the wrong places</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4RdPGCVI/AAAAAAAAARM/veaDLrUQDhQ/s1600-h/DSC01856.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4RdPGCVI/AAAAAAAAARM/veaDLrUQDhQ/s200/DSC01856.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215300609796082002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4R8xMUAI/AAAAAAAAARU/UKfQ3CG7i2Q/s1600-h/DSC01859.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4R8xMUAI/AAAAAAAAARU/UKfQ3CG7i2Q/s1600-h/DSC01859.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4R8xMUAI/AAAAAAAAARU/UKfQ3CG7i2Q/s200/DSC01859.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215300618260598786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4Sbqx3jI/AAAAAAAAARc/UlOld2-o3iU/s1600-h/DSC01860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4Sbqx3jI/AAAAAAAAARc/UlOld2-o3iU/s200/DSC01860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215300626555199026" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm fucking painting again..i mean really painting! my heart is beating fast and and i feel excited and hopeful. i doubt it's done though, but i just wanted to share!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7654578945171355296?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/GP36x0ZRK7g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7654578945171355296/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7654578945171355296" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7654578945171355296?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7654578945171355296?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/GP36x0ZRK7g/looking-for-structure-in-all-wrong.html" title="looking for structure in all the wrong places" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f2RxOotb2BU/SGB4RdPGCVI/AAAAAAAAARM/veaDLrUQDhQ/s72-c/DSC01856.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/06/looking-for-structure-in-all-wrong.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08HRHo-fCp7ImA9WxdQFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-7919824174958754198</id><published>2008-06-15T14:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T22:50:35.454-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-16T22:50:35.454-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girl" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="party" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rambling" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="walking" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="story" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blah blah" /><title>taking walks and thinking about shit</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:courier new;" &gt;today, i took a walk around the old neighborhood, bought 2 vintage dresses and yellow flowers to dress my very bare balcony. i walked slow and people-watched. the sunshine just makes everything look so beautiful and picturesque. i lugged around my camera, but i decided not to use it, in case i missed something while being caught up trying to capture something else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:courier new;" &gt;it feels like it has been such a long long wait for the sun to come and play. i could go to the beach, but i had had been eating way too much this past couple of days and my body is not beach friendly at the moment. i just had a bbq on friday and as usual people didnt start rolling in till about 9pm, 2 and a half hours after it was suppose to start. the term "fashionably late" is taken too much to heart. but it went well, and everyone seemed to have  a good time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:courier new;" &gt;i was secretly hoping someone would bring a dreamy single friend that would make my heart flutter and...you know the rest. but nothing of the sort happened. oh well. there goes my plan to have the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4b7kWf6nXkc"&gt;love of my life&lt;/a&gt; just stroll through my front door. too much to ask i guess? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:courier new;" &gt;being single sucks, not because i hate being alone, but i miss being part of a team..like the kind where you feel like together you can accomplish so many wonderful adventures. finding a &lt;a href="http://tlt.psu.edu/suggestions/teams/student/responsibility.html"&gt;team member&lt;/a&gt; is hard. there are so many factors involved, and i have come to a point where i don't want to kiss any more frogs. are you familiar with those stories of &lt;a href="http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=1788403"&gt;nutjobs stealing other people's babies&lt;/a&gt; to call their own? i feel like, at my current state, i can actually imagine the how those women came to that point in their lives, where it seems nothing else can be done, but steal other people's happiness..wow, scary. don't worry, i just have a very long winded imagination. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6590639002221438801-7919824174958754198?l=hunkybobnow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~4/IjgSTtWxAGo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/feeds/7919824174958754198/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6590639002221438801&amp;postID=7919824174958754198" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7919824174958754198?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6590639002221438801/posts/default/7919824174958754198?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ToHateYouIsToLoveYouToLoveYouIsToKillYou/~3/IjgSTtWxAGo/taking-walks-and-thinking-about-shit.html" title="taking walks and thinking about shit" /><author><name>bob</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/128214511_f436d76088_s.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://hunkybobnow.blogspot.com/2008/06/taking-walks-and-thinking-about-shit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YBRHs7fip7ImA9WxdQEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6590639002221438801.post-6633661311204294618</id><published>2008-06-11T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T22:39:15.506-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-11T22:39:15.506-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="video" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music video" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="connections" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girl" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heartbreak" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="singing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="story" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hope" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action figure" /><title>my sweet lord</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d3e7813ea4bee711" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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