<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 28 Aug 2024 18:54:16 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>Family Life</category><category>So Many Thoughts</category><category>Entertainment</category><category>Music</category><category>Old School</category><category>Akward First Meeting</category><category>Anger</category><category>Better Than Your Local News</category><category>Johnny Mathis</category><category>Mary J. Blige</category><category>New School</category><category>Rants</category><category>Television</category><title>Whatever I&#39;m Feeling At The Moment</title><description>Music, News, Something Interesting and Especially My Complaints</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-7864703788268257881</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Feb 2008 19:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-14T11:30:47.996-08:00</atom:updated><title>The Good Old Confederate Flag</title><description>I&#39;m a member of this particular forum and someone posted a discussion about the confederate flag. He was asking other members whether he should change his avatar in response to someone who had complained about it. He explained that it was not a sign of racism and disrespect, but a symbol of pride in the South. I replied that while this flag has always represented a symbol of hatred, since he explained the meaning he should keep it. However scanning the rest of the post there was one person who in particular felt the need to go into the same tired argument about reverse racism, etc. And at the very end he felt that this flag should be allowed to fly free over government agencies and the like because it is a sign of respect for their forefathers that have died in the Civil War for FREEDOM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the post is relatively old now and it would useless to reply. However, I did find this very offensive for several reasons. I consider myself educated about American History and the like. And to my knowledge, while the Southerners did in fact feel that the &quot;central&quot; government was interfering with their rights I wouldn&#39;t call their mission one of freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact I think it would be fair to say that it is the antithesis of freedom. Their argument was one of &quot;I want my rights&quot; and no one else&#39;s matter. Now while I can go into the oft repeated story of slavery and the like, I thinks its more important to touch on the subject of how after all this time people still believe that the Southern fight was one to be respected. It actually boggles my mind that today in 2008 there are still those who cannot understand that if the North was not victorious our land would be very different. Whether this view still stand today because people can look back in the past with a certain admiration for the way things were, or they are truly a racist bunch cannot be seen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I think about it, the more I believe that the Confederate Flag is a symbol of a indignant people who still have not come to grips with the thought that they are not better than me.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-old-confederate-flag.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-4610812894782439706</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Feb 2008 00:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-12T16:55:39.964-08:00</atom:updated><title>Social Networking Sites</title><description>Today I skipped my C++ class because the snow is just terrible. So while I&#39;m sitting here really supposed to be doing something constructive, I&#39;d rather try to find some social networking sites. So far I&#39;ve come across Orkut, which really seems to be dominated by Indians, so I don&#39;t know. I&#39;d rather find something a little more diverse. Now I&#39;m on with my quest to find a friend, LOL. At any rate the odds of finding someone with my particular interest seems to be better on the net than my small world I inhabit everyday. Though I&#39;m particularly wary that there isn&#39;t anyone with my interest per se. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all I&#39;ve tried Facebook, MySpace and Orkut and they suck ass. So on with my quest I suppose.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2008/02/social-networking-sites.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-1866192104378193592</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 Feb 2008 05:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-08T21:40:03.555-08:00</atom:updated><title>Meany Mean Me</title><description>Sometimes I&#39;m in a self analytic mood and wonder why some things in my life are they way they are. For instance my lack of friends sometimes bother me. It would be nice to have someone to lean on and hang out with. And then I realize that I just don&#39;t like people. People irk me to no end. And because of this I&#39;m really a friendly kind of person and others view me as very mean. I&#39;m not mean though. I may not like you, but I&#39;m not mean. And this view that others have of me prevents friendships and lasting connections. I&#39;m young now and comfortable enough to tolerate loneliness. But I wonder what life will be like in 20 years. It&#39;ll be hard to convince myself that I really don&#39;t need someone to cuddle with and talk to. And then I think of my Aunt who lives a life similar to mine and I cringe. So I&#39;ve made up my mind that either I need to be more tolerable, or people need to stop sucking. I&#39;m leaning towards others not sucking as much.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2008/02/meany-mean-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-5817726494600442320</guid><pubDate>Sat, 27 Oct 2007 21:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-27T14:40:47.915-07:00</atom:updated><title>Stankin&#39; Buses</title><description>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VuHvVSxmWb7445bSpG2g_HKhA3fuFiIcRooYxpf6QGxnI3vYHQ7uftTmwG-v3SHQjhXtqtb6G_aLhsNSCly79i-rugcCms90EnB8Ln5WWuZTSoKhyJgNibggxD12Q4X8isiOOE-Ovcg/s1600-h/transit13lores.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VuHvVSxmWb7445bSpG2g_HKhA3fuFiIcRooYxpf6QGxnI3vYHQ7uftTmwG-v3SHQjhXtqtb6G_aLhsNSCly79i-rugcCms90EnB8Ln5WWuZTSoKhyJgNibggxD12Q4X8isiOOE-Ovcg/s400/transit13lores.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126134234076014018&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate public transportation with a vengeance only rivaled by my hatred of mice. Of course I&#39;m just a hateful person in general, but these Detroit City buses take the cake. Forget about standing on dark and deserted streets early in the morning, these spiteful ass bus drivers ought to ran over by the very things they use to pass me by. It&#39;s already a comical site to see an overweight, sleepy-eyed grown ass woman carrying a heavy backpack attempt to run. And if by chance I am lucky enough to catch the bastard, I have to simultaneously hold on to dear life while sticking my money in that stank box that only takes crispy bills and wipe that stinging sweat out of my eye. But oh wait, there&#39;s still two more buses to catch. So by the time I&#39;m standing on that bitch surrounded by lazy men cuddled against their freaking lunch boxes, I really want to turn around and go home.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/10/stankin-buses.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VuHvVSxmWb7445bSpG2g_HKhA3fuFiIcRooYxpf6QGxnI3vYHQ7uftTmwG-v3SHQjhXtqtb6G_aLhsNSCly79i-rugcCms90EnB8Ln5WWuZTSoKhyJgNibggxD12Q4X8isiOOE-Ovcg/s72-c/transit13lores.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-3523123645271441742</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Oct 2007 21:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T14:54:15.038-07:00</atom:updated><title>Time Is A Sumabitch</title><description>&lt;span xmlns=&#39;&#39;&gt;&lt;p&gt;Times are changing very quickly. I&#39;ll be 24 later this month, and while I&#39;m still young it still feels like 30 is knocking on my door. I think about where all the time has gone because my life has changed to such a degree that it&#39;s hardly recognizable. When I first started going to college my family was whole, I had a brighter outlook on the future and an overall positive feeling. Within the past year my Aunt died, my father moved out of the house and that positive outlook has gotten a little murky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I suppose this reflection comes from having a birthday soon. Like most people, I ponder certain aspects of my life. Mistakes and missteps glare you in the face while you realize that you still haven&#39;t gotten anywhere close to where you want to be, despite being older. I don&#39;t want to act like I&#39;m 50 or anything, but thinking back to when I graduated high school I figured by this time things would be very different. I&#39;m really not trying to actually be 30 and have the same feelings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/10/time-is-sumabitch.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-8428696892736370827</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 Sep 2007 03:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-05T21:17:09.918-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Simple Life</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmSzyVgJlSN26yAj9uev7oylUvoKtyhzZAanM9QNHLoF3KrI6FGcrbz-gQcberod_6erz5CE2SO0TNDnwmMwxqp4J3Ok4aBJR2J-rRp-xIf_-t4T35DWGm9fBSZc5rvQUveiqejvv4Ds/s1600-h/Wild%2520Things.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmSzyVgJlSN26yAj9uev7oylUvoKtyhzZAanM9QNHLoF3KrI6FGcrbz-gQcberod_6erz5CE2SO0TNDnwmMwxqp4J3Ok4aBJR2J-rRp-xIf_-t4T35DWGm9fBSZc5rvQUveiqejvv4Ds/s400/Wild%2520Things.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106940316258951186&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember when life was simple and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drag the t.v. out in the morning make a giant bowl of cereal and gig off of Sesame Street...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4E_IO_IxfWE6ln0iTkcX5_ANKrtoqibm3cqD1k156k_2SnOTWCTA538Zw4CF50WA18LyiDrpS8S62dulUqgf61hc6emyr4oOYFuMYQbNP0k17BeAYXJSR5KD8fzAKh8lFPzBBWGT4hJQ/s1600-h/sesame.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4E_IO_IxfWE6ln0iTkcX5_ANKrtoqibm3cqD1k156k_2SnOTWCTA538Zw4CF50WA18LyiDrpS8S62dulUqgf61hc6emyr4oOYFuMYQbNP0k17BeAYXJSR5KD8fzAKh8lFPzBBWGT4hJQ/s200/sesame.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106935836608061362&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going over Grandma&#39;s house for a family cook out..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When money was only used to buy candy and ish...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the steps in the hazy morning eating a cucumber and salt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the worst part of the day was waking up to go to school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when you finally woke up all you do was talk to friends all day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bills was as foreign as China...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You didn&#39;t know you were a particular color...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding bikes down the street almost gettin&#39; hit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F_pk8c7LlIrjF-GT3lH_mHeIt_m7N0sdgqX2-7Fkqn6ufX80ADr4eU5-YlgncMRIdcuW2Wqe3ZWBpDozti4eLKMnLhRxYhKAbMhSlsijTEvbe40fYDG44B0KVa4LQEKlmA-3JIyIF6A/s1600-h/bike.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F_pk8c7LlIrjF-GT3lH_mHeIt_m7N0sdgqX2-7Fkqn6ufX80ADr4eU5-YlgncMRIdcuW2Wqe3ZWBpDozti4eLKMnLhRxYhKAbMhSlsijTEvbe40fYDG44B0KVa4LQEKlmA-3JIyIF6A/s200/bike.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106940088625684482&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having snow ball fights until you got hit with a piece of ice, then sat and cried for a minute and started again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sneaking off kissing/watching somebody else kiss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exploring the old basement until you got cut up by something... still have the scar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jumping rope with a those plastic tubes on breathing machines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting out of school early for any reason...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the first of the month for that one treat you don&#39;t get everyday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scaveging the house for pennies to buy gumballs...&lt;br /&gt;Throwing horseshoes in the backyard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing in that old car, wishing it would really drive you somewhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding a grocery cart down the driveway like an idiot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfQ2I2MNWt4oUz5L64O_cQtgej8KEi0vf0gy9V-0q569egAuBKhzVXaCOumWA6gE3lMcW6mjSsxw9GqaNBFF2eV7-pCC7V5cZ9a0rgr89-n1SQDMiP9SsZWwNRxoet80dqh55wICpLuQ/s1600-h/shopping_cart.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfQ2I2MNWt4oUz5L64O_cQtgej8KEi0vf0gy9V-0q569egAuBKhzVXaCOumWA6gE3lMcW6mjSsxw9GqaNBFF2eV7-pCC7V5cZ9a0rgr89-n1SQDMiP9SsZWwNRxoet80dqh55wICpLuQ/s200/shopping_cart.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106939796567908338&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best books were &quot;Where the Wild Things Are&quot; and &quot;The Velveteen Rabbit&quot;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a kid and not a grownup where the world is a cold, cold place.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/09/simple-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmSzyVgJlSN26yAj9uev7oylUvoKtyhzZAanM9QNHLoF3KrI6FGcrbz-gQcberod_6erz5CE2SO0TNDnwmMwxqp4J3Ok4aBJR2J-rRp-xIf_-t4T35DWGm9fBSZc5rvQUveiqejvv4Ds/s72-c/Wild%2520Things.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-8087954035559487976</guid><pubDate>Wed, 22 Aug 2007 03:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-21T20:35:58.136-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">So Many Thoughts</category><title>So Many Thoughts: Just Some Things About Me</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyMXsIaH5QfjLn5K3VFw4aWwsl4DWetUHGwsJDRLCK6I0lZ0Vuk7nxjT9GQMwbDXtMpk3A9paM9YVhdkdV1fXoQhT7lURPiWxDXadR4qb_L0APL67ELboTHpWX8fkWo3b1xZ6mB5bzxc/s1600-h/1232-watch-over-me-purity-ring-image-1.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyMXsIaH5QfjLn5K3VFw4aWwsl4DWetUHGwsJDRLCK6I0lZ0Vuk7nxjT9GQMwbDXtMpk3A9paM9YVhdkdV1fXoQhT7lURPiWxDXadR4qb_L0APL67ELboTHpWX8fkWo3b1xZ6mB5bzxc/s400/1232-watch-over-me-purity-ring-image-1.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101360415007072098&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get angry easily, and one person can ruin my day. I have to work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely love video games, and when I get enough money I&#39;m like a kid in a candy store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easily depressed, but not easily broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to school for Electrical Engineering. Been here for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a vivid imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ojecwkpqfPo-wkjBoTezRZtFzI56OJfm5sxn-OzTd0hqk49GknG0t_n29GfBquPN9hRPgoVRuLKH_6CpJt0jrEn1tXkQqIiezDYZzCpxjsQTGXUgxHmd8GRLSABAuEGKZEDnIe5xx2Y/s1600-h/imagination.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ojecwkpqfPo-wkjBoTezRZtFzI56OJfm5sxn-OzTd0hqk49GknG0t_n29GfBquPN9hRPgoVRuLKH_6CpJt0jrEn1tXkQqIiezDYZzCpxjsQTGXUgxHmd8GRLSABAuEGKZEDnIe5xx2Y/s200/imagination.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101363425779146658&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody I choose to be with romatically must understand that I don&#39;t talk very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not into sports too much, but if I learned how the game worked... maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the winter, not to keen on summer without air though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I made like 60K a year, being without kids... please it is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dread taking care of business, but when it&#39;s done I&#39;m like ehh, not so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The glass is half empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9rxnEBHjBFGRpkriuv1jb3sc0LuvetI60lss62DJlPStlfMwA9OOQ_XFBWAf87JshpoFYpWq8IRLPCSvhRxXfLRlySo7-3i0Ffx7E-zcVEsPmMS8l-gLFvf01I6LuS-VaEPPTAH1vhg/s1600-h/glass.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9rxnEBHjBFGRpkriuv1jb3sc0LuvetI60lss62DJlPStlfMwA9OOQ_XFBWAf87JshpoFYpWq8IRLPCSvhRxXfLRlySo7-3i0Ffx7E-zcVEsPmMS8l-gLFvf01I6LuS-VaEPPTAH1vhg/s400/glass.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101362034209742722&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don&#39;t see myself having kids, but who knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get crushes easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite t.v. shows was Night Court. Had a crush on the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say without kids and going to college I&#39;m a catch. Not from what I see. In my hood I&#39;m like the opposite of a catch. Why? Really, I want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it&#39;s because I&#39;m not comfortable around people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to be alone, yet I&#39;m lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sense of humor has faded over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I can, my first real vacation will probably be to see Johnny Mathis play somewhere.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/scattered-thoughts-just-some-things.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyMXsIaH5QfjLn5K3VFw4aWwsl4DWetUHGwsJDRLCK6I0lZ0Vuk7nxjT9GQMwbDXtMpk3A9paM9YVhdkdV1fXoQhT7lURPiWxDXadR4qb_L0APL67ELboTHpWX8fkWo3b1xZ6mB5bzxc/s72-c/1232-watch-over-me-purity-ring-image-1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-3679758945166489587</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Aug 2007 03:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-20T20:47:41.135-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Entertainment</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Television</category><title>The Real Oz And Not That Pansy Wizard Neither</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8exgtMPTlpI7ywX30xt3mxxbPj9blYb9Mc65ngnG0xp5QDhMc-uyUEqUhx5FFyjy-r7xEJNsGgi2MrasqRinUj0XD5gO7ZuyPxJ4qHsVifCV20WxecMC8OUawztZEEck_tLrEguku1E/s1600-h/oz.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8exgtMPTlpI7ywX30xt3mxxbPj9blYb9Mc65ngnG0xp5QDhMc-uyUEqUhx5FFyjy-r7xEJNsGgi2MrasqRinUj0XD5gO7ZuyPxJ4qHsVifCV20WxecMC8OUawztZEEck_tLrEguku1E/s400/oz.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100991816618762066&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, why didn&#39;t anybody tell me that Oz was like the best television show ever? I am really upset I&#39;m like 5 years too late! Mind you, I never had cable so don&#39;t laugh too hard. I remember all the fuss everybody made about Sex and the City, but when it came to regular t.v., I thought it sucked big time. Who cares about 4 white ladies in New York wondering around crying about no man and making shoe fetishes the norm? Would rather watch paint dry slowly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, you have a show like Oz that has everything. Sex, violence, drugs and love if you count Beecher and who&#39;s his face. I kind of think it sweet in a way. And each episode has a solid story line that makes you want to watch the next episode and the next. I have to admit that I&#39;ve sat down and watched all the seasons and am like on season 4 now. No need to know where I got it from, there&#39;s help if you look &lt;a href=&quot;http://thepiratebay.org/search/oz/0/3/0&quot;&gt;hard enough&lt;/a&gt;. I&#39;m just saying...</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/real-oz-and-not-that-pansy-wizard.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8exgtMPTlpI7ywX30xt3mxxbPj9blYb9Mc65ngnG0xp5QDhMc-uyUEqUhx5FFyjy-r7xEJNsGgi2MrasqRinUj0XD5gO7ZuyPxJ4qHsVifCV20WxecMC8OUawztZEEck_tLrEguku1E/s72-c/oz.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-2705309004634803212</guid><pubDate>Sun, 19 Aug 2007 01:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-18T19:11:42.925-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Family Life</category><title>Expectations...</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-i0O2PI0O31HA3RSdNg4AkUrZQfW95rwmsjXLpg-dqZ1-BRdTKsUyAt1hvBiH16dCTzzVIjrzzr8VX-Lxll4I8LMALQyx2lOxl36zw3z_dwEkWzljHzk2Vodekv6L9BjtjSZXPAwTrpo/s1600-h/Expectations.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-i0O2PI0O31HA3RSdNg4AkUrZQfW95rwmsjXLpg-dqZ1-BRdTKsUyAt1hvBiH16dCTzzVIjrzzr8VX-Lxll4I8LMALQyx2lOxl36zw3z_dwEkWzljHzk2Vodekv6L9BjtjSZXPAwTrpo/s400/Expectations.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100228454901374786&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are others expectations of us always so unattainable? Always just a little too far out of our reach? Parents have these expectations, but so do children. Parents want the best, expect the best, demand the best. They want us to be better than them, to make up for those deficiencies that complicated their goals and aspirations. It&#39;s easy for them to expect this, for it is something held for the future. You can&#39;t hold it,or look at it, or smell it but they know its real. Assume it&#39;s real. But what about the present? Are the expectations for the present far too hard for the child to grasp? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise, children assume that their parents will function in some capacity or another to provide for their means. And if these needs are not met, is that grounds for dismissing these goals set by the parents? Is it okay to forever hold that grudge that naws at your very existence? The what if&#39;s...what if you had a decent job and I could wear the clothes I wanted...what if you weren&#39;t sick and felt the need to turn to those drugs...what if you worked hard enough so I could be in the upper echelons of society and not at the bottom?</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/expectations.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-i0O2PI0O31HA3RSdNg4AkUrZQfW95rwmsjXLpg-dqZ1-BRdTKsUyAt1hvBiH16dCTzzVIjrzzr8VX-Lxll4I8LMALQyx2lOxl36zw3z_dwEkWzljHzk2Vodekv6L9BjtjSZXPAwTrpo/s72-c/Expectations.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-3679939586851262917</guid><pubDate>Wed, 15 Aug 2007 23:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-15T17:05:51.961-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Anger</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Family Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Rants</category><title>Anger Management</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v29rwmA1c7tC1B4qetcT-J0eU6RJueqxoCqBry66fS9jK950sOphiKmNTNrUvE2lMWVYmPNXNPnu767TBDN-iALYe9ysjR7YXrBe4VJhkSQEacjKy7M5fVKVsWMJrFi5znqpCRiLtpQ/s1600-h/anger.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v29rwmA1c7tC1B4qetcT-J0eU6RJueqxoCqBry66fS9jK950sOphiKmNTNrUvE2lMWVYmPNXNPnu767TBDN-iALYe9ysjR7YXrBe4VJhkSQEacjKy7M5fVKVsWMJrFi5znqpCRiLtpQ/s400/anger.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099081881379570706&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I live in a logical world and as such illogical things make me so damn mad. ANGRY! If you leave a dirt ring in the tub similar to the ones you find in a junkyard, clean the shyt out! If I just mopped the damn floor, why walk on it with dirty gym shoes? Why? I guess because you have a maid service, so its fine to leave your clothes strewn around the living AND dining room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why clean it up you say? Because the shyt skeezes me out like open sores. Really, if I see a mess and walk away from it, I&#39;ll think about it all day. It&#39;s like the mess gets in my mind and taunts me. &quot;Hee hee haw, I&#39;m in here just chillin&#39; chump&quot;. And like an ass, I get up and clean it. But guess what? I&#39;ll have another surprise waiting for me somewhere else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live with folks with a far lower skeezability factor than mine, far lower. And that&#39;s fine. Some things just don&#39;t mess with others. Doctors crack open people all the time. Garbage men still pick up the trash every week and there are janitors that clean up the most abominable messes ever known to mankind. My gripe, though, is the lack of appreciation shown for cleaning up after a) Grown ass people, b) Grown ass people, c) GROWN ASS PEOPLE! Man, I could tolerate cleaning after a child because it&#39;s a given that they&#39;re filthy. But I&#39;m talking about folks that have stalked this earth for a half a century and more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what this leads to right? Me being the biggest bytch, crying over spilled milk (Pun intended. Who the spilled a whole glass of milk on the counter, and didn&#39;t wipe it up!). Me screaming at the top of my lungs. Me looking like the ass. So I learned my lesson. Just clean the effing stuff and go on about my business. Man, if I wasn&#39;t so into watching complete seasons of Oz right now, I would run away. Little nap sack and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I&#39;m done...that was very theraputic.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/anger-management.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v29rwmA1c7tC1B4qetcT-J0eU6RJueqxoCqBry66fS9jK950sOphiKmNTNrUvE2lMWVYmPNXNPnu767TBDN-iALYe9ysjR7YXrBe4VJhkSQEacjKy7M5fVKVsWMJrFi5znqpCRiLtpQ/s72-c/anger.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-6106986961636136960</guid><pubDate>Wed, 15 Aug 2007 01:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-15T17:04:08.506-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">So Many Thoughts</category><title>So Many Thoughts: Size 12 Shoe</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE30mWxK1VsSlr9nNXkkNGpzpH8DjlYiaTwg4212OdmKDsCQ1F1n8R7nBQoApVkQxnfB9dVl4Ajm_xXPTyWhIomNKgmMV0RZJWtTHy4_zYRQyrMaB8sSGosbgDLBmu0MXz1IjY5xjmawA/s1600-h/feet.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE30mWxK1VsSlr9nNXkkNGpzpH8DjlYiaTwg4212OdmKDsCQ1F1n8R7nBQoApVkQxnfB9dVl4Ajm_xXPTyWhIomNKgmMV0RZJWtTHy4_zYRQyrMaB8sSGosbgDLBmu0MXz1IjY5xjmawA/s400/feet.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098734001913496530&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uglyful should be a real word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does &#39;ROFL&#39; mean anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing in this world I hate more than rats. If I ever see one that&#39;s alive, it&#39;s a wrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I have never had cable my entire life. I blame my parents. And my desire of having a better life by going to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don&#39;t enjoy chicken that much. Stereotypes aren&#39;t always true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a vivid imagination. I&#39;m currently a world wide superstar that is also a billionaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Freddy Kruger was real as a child...still kindda do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fruit cocktail is that deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL0gEm3cE5PTped5tI8-dCHjSLkLUxQ2lVQg2pzUnS7RzR8E5h4jqRQo38JiislrEJDgi-itiqL79hdD4lu4ebjcLcOgQ8xa9nnNHR8JLkJnMV6dSadmcIcYJsEoNokv7sKJdPXMXOqg/s1600-h/fruit+cocktail.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL0gEm3cE5PTped5tI8-dCHjSLkLUxQ2lVQg2pzUnS7RzR8E5h4jqRQo38JiislrEJDgi-itiqL79hdD4lu4ebjcLcOgQ8xa9nnNHR8JLkJnMV6dSadmcIcYJsEoNokv7sKJdPXMXOqg/s200/fruit+cocktail.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098736639023416290&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fake nails are stupid and unnecessary and uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ignant ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mermaids and those creatures that are half man and horse are the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know on a hot summer&#39;s day when it been raining and then during sunset everything turns orange. That scares the hell out of me. Like armageddon or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was about 15, my feet finally stopped growing at a healthy size 12. I remember going to Payless and having to go all the way to the back of the store for an ugly gym shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell is premium weather?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate cheerleaders, especially grown ass women who cheer. Why? Skinny chicks can make a career out of anything. &quot;What do you do for a living?&quot;... responds, &quot;I breathe&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEircpbqG1GKER-KidgM727TklFT6VVXowyFVY9_8Mou4-KqQa9s6VlP3AjzJZVtBwrCgQOIdYe_VppnNXf6ueiXC54vT0KI4wlGnhMnS55FwPIp1XLbXYufp7LQgmAipPIMU4kERqdJYUY/s1600-h/cheerleaders.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEircpbqG1GKER-KidgM727TklFT6VVXowyFVY9_8Mou4-KqQa9s6VlP3AjzJZVtBwrCgQOIdYe_VppnNXf6ueiXC54vT0KI4wlGnhMnS55FwPIp1XLbXYufp7LQgmAipPIMU4kERqdJYUY/s200/cheerleaders.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098737098584916978&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food comforts me. People don&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My major should have been in clownology. At least I would have been out of school by now. Two more years my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soap opera&#39;s are so pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love celebrity gossip blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did stamps go up to 39 cents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have one friend. Well 3 if I count Jesus and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the only person that hates dogs? Man&#39;s best friend my ass. Well then that rabid ass dog shouldn&#39;t have chased me down the street when I was 9. Running for my damn life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QmmsgaVfx2pfq4tcAbRxwFH4CxVGCu6BuGlykqydjRZDXXxqXn_85288uivxJ_UFvVSz0VESITOrqzdWooSRnpNGexDhfEGvDJmN1lrCXvBvg7zKiCNQ5bdFxgIZHp3LjJ55lc8fw48/s1600-h/angry_dog.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QmmsgaVfx2pfq4tcAbRxwFH4CxVGCu6BuGlykqydjRZDXXxqXn_85288uivxJ_UFvVSz0VESITOrqzdWooSRnpNGexDhfEGvDJmN1lrCXvBvg7zKiCNQ5bdFxgIZHp3LjJ55lc8fw48/s200/angry_dog.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098737622570927106&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I wasn&#39;t going to school, I would probably be a recluse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I get crushes on people I KNOW I will never be able to get? Like that one professor is gonna say, &quot;Hey baby, you&#39;ve what&#39;s been missing my whole life. Now come over here and get an A and a kiss&quot;. That&#39;s probably what he said to his life partner though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I would write a blog. Even if nobody does read, it&#39;s like a diary in a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smart people who get on the Dean&#39;s List blow so much, it hurts.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/so-many-thoughts-size-12-shoe.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE30mWxK1VsSlr9nNXkkNGpzpH8DjlYiaTwg4212OdmKDsCQ1F1n8R7nBQoApVkQxnfB9dVl4Ajm_xXPTyWhIomNKgmMV0RZJWtTHy4_zYRQyrMaB8sSGosbgDLBmu0MXz1IjY5xjmawA/s72-c/feet.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-1727433868684791220</guid><pubDate>Tue, 14 Aug 2007 00:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-15T17:10:04.871-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Family Life</category><title>Drugs Scare The Hell Out of Me &amp; So Does Spending Money</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjchFSBzVKpS057M_PzkRaQ8CXhm5iu5lE4VzMUmIR0g-ioQpVEn69FLccK_b8V3hVCDSVLkCyUXlbPgUbZRpJgIgV1wfm7cipI_dXzrrH4oriR9Gh4CAKIPUw6MrE4WQPb3hHpR_efFJk/s1600-h/drug.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjchFSBzVKpS057M_PzkRaQ8CXhm5iu5lE4VzMUmIR0g-ioQpVEn69FLccK_b8V3hVCDSVLkCyUXlbPgUbZRpJgIgV1wfm7cipI_dXzrrH4oriR9Gh4CAKIPUw6MrE4WQPb3hHpR_efFJk/s400/drug.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098360932464231346&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There hasn&#39;t been a lack of comical instances in the news lately where someone wasn&#39;t showing off their ass (literally) in some drug induced state. Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears...blah blah blah. It&#39;s getting to the point where I just want to personally put these people out of their miseries and speed up to January 1, 2008 where they will be little more than all the rest of the Gary Coleman&#39;s out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don&#39;t get me wrong, I do find it fascinating. If only to make me feel superior (you know that&#39;s the reason you keep up with the gossip columns too). But how much is too much? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in a family where Wild Iris Rose was a staple. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ1sN6p2mtA_nUHDXHEF104MNkRZvArcNxPWwPrWW4lE7vSAwDcWtpXa1GjOjwyBIKG0hv8C-NvgTpsKP8AHwCm7Tpi069TJdNmysNNCCeGxx7iSrAkXXF1G5fVMJDb3of6fjS6eBJx0/s1600-h/wild+irish+rose.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZ1sN6p2mtA_nUHDXHEF104MNkRZvArcNxPWwPrWW4lE7vSAwDcWtpXa1GjOjwyBIKG0hv8C-NvgTpsKP8AHwCm7Tpi069TJdNmysNNCCeGxx7iSrAkXXF1G5fVMJDb3of6fjS6eBJx0/s200/wild+irish+rose.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098361125737759682&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, there were more empty bottles of this stuff than milk cartons. And when the first of the month rolled around after an eternity and all the kids received some standard treat that couldn&#39;t be got all the time, the grownups were nowhere in sight. EVERYBODY had a vice back in the day. Everything from hard drugs, to liquor and even pills. All of the recent deaths in my family, besides my grandfather, was due to some substance abuse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will not drink anything. Well, maybe those kool-aid flavored drinks like Arbor Mist on the holidays. And I do get tipsy. The funny part is though, I&#39;m like a billion pounds. When I took health in college, I read that I could drink 3-4 alcholic beverages before even a slur would approach. I don&#39;t know, you figure it out. But anything brown, or clear like vodka I will not touch. I don&#39;t even smoke weed. And those in the black community know that&#39;s not even considered a drug. Well it is to me and the federal government! Besides, I don&#39;t have the kind of money it takes to live that kind of lifestyle (I go to college and am lucky to get a box of macaroni without cheese). I don&#39;t know how much a rock or one those vitaminy looking pills my cousin sells costs, but I think it&#39;s a lot. When all your furniture is given to the crack man, it&#39;s alot. I&#39;m far too cheap for that shit. I&#39;d rather get a house or buy some stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I can understand how hard it is to break those habits. Crack was a bitch in the 80&#39;s. What I can&#39;t comprehend though is how these habits are got in the first place. Well I know, messed up childhoods and neglectful parenting and all those skeletons in those dark closets are not foreign to me. I&#39;ve had bad experiences, very bad experiences. And I&#39;m quite sure some of you do too. That&#39;s why I just can&#39;t swallow these reasons. It&#39;s not good enough. Sure, alchohol and drugs probably dull the pain. But you know what I do? Get therapy! Hell yes. Cause I won&#39;t be the one going through life sitting on a pity potty because of what happened to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time one of you run into one of those infamous ladies who provide so, so much unwholesome entertainment, direct them to the nearest phychiatrist. Because we all know this time next year they will be has-beens rockin&#39; around with Gary Coleman in his motel bathtub/hotub.</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/drugs-scare-hell-out-of-me-so-does.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjchFSBzVKpS057M_PzkRaQ8CXhm5iu5lE4VzMUmIR0g-ioQpVEn69FLccK_b8V3hVCDSVLkCyUXlbPgUbZRpJgIgV1wfm7cipI_dXzrrH4oriR9Gh4CAKIPUw6MrE4WQPb3hHpR_efFJk/s72-c/drug.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-6973005664188321333</guid><pubDate>Sun, 12 Aug 2007 19:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-20T20:48:24.959-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Better Than Your Local News</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Entertainment</category><title>Better Than Your Local News</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bill Nye Booed in Waco for Pointing out Moon Reflects the Sun&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nye angered a few audience members when he criticized literal interpretation of Genesis 1:16, which reads: “God made two great lights — the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.” He pointed out that the moon, which really is not a light at all, rather a reflector of light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1d-3aYnJN-Fk65ajGUvK1WOZaQeCaKS6OVP-8w0GXgDxhHC0RNEbwJ8OEMtak_rkTBUz6vPQzb8ACGbSlBsNY2prz4kPPfUsfDPkHoetOGpqZQzKu_ztuScKaXYMEL6anurcNZBAECxs/s1600-h/billnye.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097897303629529906&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1d-3aYnJN-Fk65ajGUvK1WOZaQeCaKS6OVP-8w0GXgDxhHC0RNEbwJ8OEMtak_rkTBUz6vPQzb8ACGbSlBsNY2prz4kPPfUsfDPkHoetOGpqZQzKu_ztuScKaXYMEL6anurcNZBAECxs/s320/billnye.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I don&#39;t know squat about astronomy and I barely paid attention to my physics lectures. But I do know that I loved Bill Nye The Science Guy when I was a kid, and if he says that light doesn&#39;t come from the moon, then its alright with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ocellated.com/2006/04/13/bill-nye-in-waco/&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;read more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://digg.com/general_sciences/Bill_Nye_Booed_in_Waco_for_pointing_out_Moon_reflects_the_Sun&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;digg story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Earth From Space - Amazing Photos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Speaking of astronomy...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth is the third planet from the Sun and is the largest of the terrestrial planets in the Solar System... Here is some amazing photos of Earth from Space...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.bored-night.com/?p=208&quot;&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://digg.com/space/Earth_From_Space_Amazing_Photos&quot;&gt;digg story&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4-m3si7fl0Ehy903NP7Xcg25ckrenEZCC1-Huw27Gptf58GOaxTgXY02abl5DcqTehdHIZ3vurTR8gONdOds3WO9q9vK6LP2TJ8K1kpMkQGlMOUef20Oxl9ZCHbPB6rSbDGCBhh1Xjk/s1600-h/003047487.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097906091132617554&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4-m3si7fl0Ehy903NP7Xcg25ckrenEZCC1-Huw27Gptf58GOaxTgXY02abl5DcqTehdHIZ3vurTR8gONdOds3WO9q9vK6LP2TJ8K1kpMkQGlMOUef20Oxl9ZCHbPB6rSbDGCBhh1Xjk/s400/003047487.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doesn&#39;t this pic remind you of one of those album covers where the artist tries to be &#39;epic&#39;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DTmyyFQOd0NdCeTXnHqmmKkXgEp-AVDTN0Q9swvDsRYqRoRD6fufqvDL7NIvLaEXfHNOUaaRSJuo96TBqpvu8y9ZXsyvulMuQcduOpHA3WjIr9zu2VP0oO-MrX02UYz8Wtz6QRlghvk/s1600-h/4126EEHF1PL._SS500_%5B1%5D.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097907104744899426&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DTmyyFQOd0NdCeTXnHqmmKkXgEp-AVDTN0Q9swvDsRYqRoRD6fufqvDL7NIvLaEXfHNOUaaRSJuo96TBqpvu8y9ZXsyvulMuQcduOpHA3WjIr9zu2VP0oO-MrX02UYz8Wtz6QRlghvk/s400/4126EEHF1PL._SS500_%5B1%5D.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJ9Eru6FW5ZnAWBe3ZGn6LLFVaOMSb13lJZ3SKqxUiOCIvodYy73RrYPMDubl_cLMDcV-y9cjTM5I1Mi0WDg5-YQcGXYPTmD6WtnnaCAh0pQMMAaaiX2nhxFpUDoO3BWbJ_1Q8zHQUrU/s1600-h/Earth.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097907607256073074&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJ9Eru6FW5ZnAWBe3ZGn6LLFVaOMSb13lJZ3SKqxUiOCIvodYy73RrYPMDubl_cLMDcV-y9cjTM5I1Mi0WDg5-YQcGXYPTmD6WtnnaCAh0pQMMAaaiX2nhxFpUDoO3BWbJ_1Q8zHQUrU/s400/Earth.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef_dxMEUkrpH8b88i0Q8aaK06b6HSjmTYdKGn0D6M_JKx2_1sFroq8gq2b2GnqkPM0TdBQa_rNyVWw25UMpuQ4aqpMqdPXQVpALJFvJbJxph7qEnQiGex57mxtOU5VVPLcfev-HrY8nk/s1600-h/003047520.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097908023867900802&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef_dxMEUkrpH8b88i0Q8aaK06b6HSjmTYdKGn0D6M_JKx2_1sFroq8gq2b2GnqkPM0TdBQa_rNyVWw25UMpuQ4aqpMqdPXQVpALJFvJbJxph7qEnQiGex57mxtOU5VVPLcfev-HrY8nk/s400/003047520.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9CafUYt4T8bHaizrjanCg-buGZgbrwMW30MMj81BRNjdcQ1RoHHrMmO0bJRQdSh3hYYCTmsto7IxU-AwmXvAebtSkLOrhU9tgSS4c0oJFObPCpOAiyDoVpsxTU0CWcTgwckMKu6t-iys/s1600-h/003047373.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097909140559397778&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9CafUYt4T8bHaizrjanCg-buGZgbrwMW30MMj81BRNjdcQ1RoHHrMmO0bJRQdSh3hYYCTmsto7IxU-AwmXvAebtSkLOrhU9tgSS4c0oJFObPCpOAiyDoVpsxTU0CWcTgwckMKu6t-iys/s400/003047373.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&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;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;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fat Kids Miss More School than Counterparts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20215678/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20215678/&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of course fat kids miss more school. I can vouche that as a chunky child, I miss a hell of a lot of school. Why? You figure it out...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hot Women &amp; The Hideous Men They Love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what if you´re ugly? Being hideous certainly didn´t stop these lucky bastards from getting themselves some grade-A leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.maximonline.com/SexyTime/Catherinezetajonesandmichaeldouglas/slideshow/4192/285.aspx&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;read more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://digg.com/celebrity/12_Hot_Women_the_Hideous_Men_They_Love&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;digg story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;You can go and check out the all 12 posted. But I whole-heartedly disagree that this guy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwRUHd7IXgogIuXNxR_3H8HAXRV1zduSqcM17vQTCOkhvwIhbp_lHfBFMSwxxJqQrFs-WcJNqgn200MLc9yRBK72c7DvoP03XAjsqSnIJdm-JUYMA2JE9Bcps1m4BZTxbBvkaq110Uks/s1600-h/john-stamos-3.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097979629562659746&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwRUHd7IXgogIuXNxR_3H8HAXRV1zduSqcM17vQTCOkhvwIhbp_lHfBFMSwxxJqQrFs-WcJNqgn200MLc9yRBK72c7DvoP03XAjsqSnIJdm-JUYMA2JE9Bcps1m4BZTxbBvkaq110Uks/s400/john-stamos-3.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is in any way, shape or form ugly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/bill-nye-booed-in-waco-for-pointing-out.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1d-3aYnJN-Fk65ajGUvK1WOZaQeCaKS6OVP-8w0GXgDxhHC0RNEbwJ8OEMtak_rkTBUz6vPQzb8ACGbSlBsNY2prz4kPPfUsfDPkHoetOGpqZQzKu_ztuScKaXYMEL6anurcNZBAECxs/s72-c/billnye.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-2829623302407890762</guid><pubDate>Sun, 12 Aug 2007 01:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-12T11:02:48.069-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Mary J. Blige</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">New School</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Old School</category><title>Why Mary J. Is My Girl</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6pzLzUB32Eu72F8_AlZoc5zYGX-evLcx4wCmZPDIr0iYLIwgooD1JWMgBD0ubBGDidDjE4AfU4kpHE7KhjhIUI2IRhFAk__R_ubNZ2WX8571CoW1PnHcbIwJQSpFSnzLApo22ZDKYfs/s1600-h/mary.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6pzLzUB32Eu72F8_AlZoc5zYGX-evLcx4wCmZPDIr0iYLIwgooD1JWMgBD0ubBGDidDjE4AfU4kpHE7KhjhIUI2IRhFAk__R_ubNZ2WX8571CoW1PnHcbIwJQSpFSnzLApo22ZDKYfs/s400/mary.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097875983411872498&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Mary J. Blige is the Aretha Franklin of this generation. The two songs that have ever moved me the most were &#39;Angel&#39; by Aretha and &#39;My Life&#39; by Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vividly remember as a teenager hearing &#39;My Life&#39; for the first time. This song neatly wrapped in 3 or so minutes how I viewed my own life. It was like an awakening for me because all I wanted was for someone to walk in my shoes and feel my pain. It wasn&#39;t a song that got you more depressed about your situation. Rather it was one that made you realize that you weren&#39;t the only one. And that&#39;s very powerful to somebody who feels alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/cd29Eihcrkk&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/cd29Eihcrkk&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;And let&#39;s not even mention &#39;Be Happy&#39;. Every single time I hear that song even to this day I feel like Superwoman. I&#39;ll take my happiness with or without you, point blank there is nothing you can say to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/n3HO1OO0tJg&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/n3HO1OO0tJg&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;If she never made another album, sang another song or made one more apperance ever again in life, she would still get my respect. Why? Because she isn&#39;t afraid to show vulnerability. Nobody looks at her and believes she is perfect. In the end, the music that matters is not sugary pop and bland r &amp;amp; b. But reflectful and meaningful music that you will remember because it touched your heart so. And this is why after all these years nobody has touched her or even tried to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/XlHnHY_xQVg&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/XlHnHY_xQVg&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://youtube.com/watch?v=x8EEnFvynzI&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/ED8y0KHHuS0&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/ED8y0KHHuS0&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/why-mary-j-is-my-girl.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6pzLzUB32Eu72F8_AlZoc5zYGX-evLcx4wCmZPDIr0iYLIwgooD1JWMgBD0ubBGDidDjE4AfU4kpHE7KhjhIUI2IRhFAk__R_ubNZ2WX8571CoW1PnHcbIwJQSpFSnzLApo22ZDKYfs/s72-c/mary.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-3915190750861501225</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Aug 2007 19:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-14T18:52:21.983-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">So Many Thoughts</category><title>So Many Thoughts: Scatter Brain</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8lNSDcCv0_GKVzAXRM-DFjugv6NtuCwiggY_q-DL40sY9nI2qF3etCPVn5UA42TYYvjCnrKFzeiqw5egEqSqdoELkA5alSLtAdpUy5l2Di7YPEGO_STJ6A_ZprJVWUGF-RIFB0kJbZ-A/s1600-h/ramble.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8lNSDcCv0_GKVzAXRM-DFjugv6NtuCwiggY_q-DL40sY9nI2qF3etCPVn5UA42TYYvjCnrKFzeiqw5egEqSqdoELkA5alSLtAdpUy5l2Di7YPEGO_STJ6A_ZprJVWUGF-RIFB0kJbZ-A/s400/ramble.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097881897581839106&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;People always tell me that I look very mean and angry all the time. I&#39;m not mad all of the time, just 90% of the time. I hate when strangers look at me and say, &quot;Damn, smile. It&#39;s not that bad&quot;. I smile just to get rid of them, when I should say that yes, it is that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I don&#39;t know how to speak or write in ebonics, yet I&#39;m black and have lived in the ghetto all my life.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate cleaning, especially when someone else gets it dirty soon after. But you know, I get skeeved at my own messes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had more money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaurxs5P8DPE9gEs9Et_2e8Mju-6pJW__WPERPvaDwLiNzFHfKd1Wp3WT4Vhs7I-QGAIbYN8DkaeGfPDbQ_wyGk1FDhntODFxqDe5jx-QRladezdWiphO8l5wRxubmbj1sLyw0lMrB2V0/s1600-h/money.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097174340374528658&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; height=&quot;194&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaurxs5P8DPE9gEs9Et_2e8Mju-6pJW__WPERPvaDwLiNzFHfKd1Wp3WT4Vhs7I-QGAIbYN8DkaeGfPDbQ_wyGk1FDhntODFxqDe5jx-QRladezdWiphO8l5wRxubmbj1sLyw0lMrB2V0/s200/money.jpg&quot; width=&quot;192&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t you hate when you post a comment on a site and then someone tries to ho you. &quot;You just a hater anyway. You wish you had Beyonce&#39;s lace fronts&quot;. And I say &quot;Yes, bitch I am a hater. I also have hair of my own&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve been in college for the past 6 years of my life. I&#39;m ready to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7Fw7YFToweIZU9XtEBELYpcchp_x-ABBpgcN-MY_WnOlsrCINazHmAm7JGgKU6wLy6WGVZOo02jdm_rOsNJMgUZ_Mp4VSt7kXXb0HEByoxuA0gGjhMDvOlppdoKORC9sCzFFoqsZ0nc/s1600-h/headerimage.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097156829792862770&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 321px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 56px; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; height=&quot;68&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7Fw7YFToweIZU9XtEBELYpcchp_x-ABBpgcN-MY_WnOlsrCINazHmAm7JGgKU6wLy6WGVZOo02jdm_rOsNJMgUZ_Mp4VSt7kXXb0HEByoxuA0gGjhMDvOlppdoKORC9sCzFFoqsZ0nc/s320/headerimage.jpg&quot; width=&quot;342&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;At this rate, I&#39;ll never see the &#39;real world&#39;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Eggs are disguisting, but omeletes look delicious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;When using public restrooms, I always tear off the first few squares of tissue and throw it in the toilet. It skeeves me out thinking somebody touched it.&lt;br /&gt;And don&#39;t even let it just be lying about because the janitors were to lazy to put it in the dispenser. Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78zZxfVfK1aLajKbxQ4XFqtZk7cTgYvgHgNMX1BQagnt3Rnx1QFeP3ezR2UbiE9_TttDsOLCOe4-b6q7kVzy6jTGKW2xnOXuR8g0taEaZDCnaH_r70RVZUIKZ97BDiQ8LY0T0N4_NWB4/s1600-h/toilet_tissue_jumbo_rolls.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097159587161866834&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78zZxfVfK1aLajKbxQ4XFqtZk7cTgYvgHgNMX1BQagnt3Rnx1QFeP3ezR2UbiE9_TttDsOLCOe4-b6q7kVzy6jTGKW2xnOXuR8g0taEaZDCnaH_r70RVZUIKZ97BDiQ8LY0T0N4_NWB4/s320/toilet_tissue_jumbo_rolls.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I use public transportation everyday and I hate when someone sits next to me and makes a big deal about my fatness. Here they are hanging all off the seat holding on for dear life at every stop. Stand up then!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Have you ever gotten on the bus, and all the handicap/senior seat were taken by grown men?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Does anybody else eat this stuff??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8r9TMUxouUQOXe4DhrMRu9hdFAQxn8UwhSkK_rkIaoNSJCMGOaMolwx7Yagxf0xeB5fa1aHi75-x5Nl-Z5AuG3uxT9iC2ydLSNaBvOXn5vlOsC4g8kNnSYreSPnOmtVclwk0JuT_kfyg/s1600-h/Argo.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097290330261324450&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8r9TMUxouUQOXe4DhrMRu9hdFAQxn8UwhSkK_rkIaoNSJCMGOaMolwx7Yagxf0xeB5fa1aHi75-x5Nl-Z5AuG3uxT9iC2ydLSNaBvOXn5vlOsC4g8kNnSYreSPnOmtVclwk0JuT_kfyg/s200/Argo.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s Great!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I consider myself to be a nice person only if I know you and you&#39;re nice to me. I find it hard to care about strangers. I&#39;m not a very warm person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why when you talk to old people they start off pleasant and then get into some rant about crooked negro preachers and the downfall of the black community?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve never had a boyfriend, that&#39;s why I&#39;m not quite sure what I like in a man. I&#39;m pretty sure he will look something like this:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLYieERIkx72RjfGR0wq4bjRjM9kD10sYoieDIX_sGbqPdir1khCGFChG7z5jk4LV_gJfESe_EQFLgKHSi38bqDVpUCh995QItope5M21kq3WcTxjQ1GDPfDM8iXaSLIru1sCcwTKbTI/s1600-h/10-31-06_maxwell_b.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097169839248802434&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLYieERIkx72RjfGR0wq4bjRjM9kD10sYoieDIX_sGbqPdir1khCGFChG7z5jk4LV_gJfESe_EQFLgKHSi38bqDVpUCh995QItope5M21kq3WcTxjQ1GDPfDM8iXaSLIru1sCcwTKbTI/s320/10-31-06_maxwell_b.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I like shy people, they understand the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I like to eat, but not cook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Judging from so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;many &#39;I&#39;s&#39;, I&#39;m probably more self-centered than I thought. My favorite person to spend time with is me though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I sweat like a pig. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrhpN2-aH0_By98rKu3mqEn5YLa04v4iSBvxvzJ8AZYnypCVzJnbG5P5M-5Y_E7lDT0zODcDq8MGgBs1aGVeog0bZsmznEUKRQDrZJM71pdMBDjOA1N5xiE3Oqqsv6vC4MnvwmJqcT0zk/s1600-h/pig-henry_0.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097160703853363810&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrhpN2-aH0_By98rKu3mqEn5YLa04v4iSBvxvzJ8AZYnypCVzJnbG5P5M-5Y_E7lDT0zODcDq8MGgBs1aGVeog0bZsmznEUKRQDrZJM71pdMBDjOA1N5xiE3Oqqsv6vC4MnvwmJqcT0zk/s320/pig-henry_0.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;The urban dictionary ought to help me with my ebonics. Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.urbandictionary.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Lost 40 pounds in six months, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/random-rants.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8lNSDcCv0_GKVzAXRM-DFjugv6NtuCwiggY_q-DL40sY9nI2qF3etCPVn5UA42TYYvjCnrKFzeiqw5egEqSqdoELkA5alSLtAdpUy5l2Di7YPEGO_STJ6A_ZprJVWUGF-RIFB0kJbZ-A/s72-c/ramble.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-1148309134716379515</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Aug 2007 03:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-12T17:51:03.952-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Johnny Mathis</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Old School</category><title>Giving The Old School Some Shine</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lTqsTe5Ckr4KMqTAVv6JFAW_yDa03I74bkVwoy1vdo5Em-8Xiq34UXmGSwpOECpAuq3ZctpVhs5PGesTANjuXVbM8yl7WEaP7ef7xeUrrPjhsSPeHcyA4KBY7NvM-a5nrLI8fDpA8C0/s1600-h/Johnny%2520Mathis.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097883375050588946&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lTqsTe5Ckr4KMqTAVv6JFAW_yDa03I74bkVwoy1vdo5Em-8Xiq34UXmGSwpOECpAuq3ZctpVhs5PGesTANjuXVbM8yl7WEaP7ef7xeUrrPjhsSPeHcyA4KBY7NvM-a5nrLI8fDpA8C0/s400/Johnny%2520Mathis.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I consider myself to be somewhat &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;eclectic&lt;/span&gt;, but more so just weird. I&#39;ve never bought into the fads and whatnot that my peers did. For some reason, I always gravitate toward things that just makes no sense whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, my favorite artist is none other than the great Johnny Mathis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2wKpvHfyippNNe3eb10khrF1w1irrHMCl1hzB_NeFfeHFb08isEFdp8xSbOEW8QIjVb_fZxzRYcrfA4cLyivw-yLqeVNOFyKaZWT_J1w2qFSN_lBOVtwQoYbKOA0kaph6gsEKog5qz0/s1600-h/Mathis_Johnny_medm070407.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097641186139734722&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2wKpvHfyippNNe3eb10khrF1w1irrHMCl1hzB_NeFfeHFb08isEFdp8xSbOEW8QIjVb_fZxzRYcrfA4cLyivw-yLqeVNOFyKaZWT_J1w2qFSN_lBOVtwQoYbKOA0kaph6gsEKog5qz0/s200/Mathis_Johnny_medm070407.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know for sure that there are not too many 23 year &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; that would tell you that (if any). But he is, and I make no apologies for that. I just think that he is great singer. If people could drop their preconceived notions about things, a whole new world would open up for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Why is Johnny Mathis so great you say? Well there are a lot of reasons why. The most important though is the voice. Anything that he has ever sung was always sung with some sort of convinction. He &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; the King of Romance (a title I don&#39;t quite like), igniting passions for thousands of heterosexual couples everywhere while being homosexual himself. He had the first greatest hits record that stayed on the charts for some 9 years. &lt;a href=&quot;http://rateyourmusic.com/release/comp/johnny_mathis/johnnys_greatest_hits/&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Johnny Mathis - Johnny&#39;s Greatest Hits&quot; src=&quot;http://static.rateyourmusic.com/album_images/s49728.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was at one point the youngest African American to become a millionaire (something we take lightly today, but this was in the fifties people). And he currently has recorded over 100 albums.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;Still you say, please why should I care. He&#39;s too white bread: I agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmQyg9NVrgDyDC6v04ZjZssl16UX_vp3PLf2ZtDwMROI4hRz9vEarQMCqDVraR574deK9_qB2xPikG4OCq1r-jmf6vh9EhYInDQOQKkzDSElLQvsjoQafTpkCsPPjC0ZurAfFH4Po6Ng/s1600-h/bread.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097638591979487922&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSmQyg9NVrgDyDC6v04ZjZssl16UX_vp3PLf2ZtDwMROI4hRz9vEarQMCqDVraR574deK9_qB2xPikG4OCq1r-jmf6vh9EhYInDQOQKkzDSElLQvsjoQafTpkCsPPjC0ZurAfFH4Po6Ng/s200/bread.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is where I draw the line. Because then you&#39;ll say he doesn&#39;t like black people and never contributed to the community amongst other complaints. But I say you&#39;re incorrect and people felt this way about Lean Horne, Sammy Davis, Jr. and Nat King Cole. Today they are legends though, aren&#39;t they? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;So if you feel like me and think that &#39;Wipe Me Down&#39; makes you a little dumber everytime it falls on your ears, then get yo&#39; self some Mathis Magic. Besides, he can get crunk too!!&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIkac0gBXV_lG3ItIKAv2Wub4TUfJULUuORwCPz1-NF1pCvL9NjVTmniDUZyTwX5eT0bLurbMGK4mOPteYxXT_Iu6TSlRSbE8IKARrr6LfI2tKSId0CEDnLlJoAbznCN770yhd1IukwU/s1600-h/7956247.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097664799869928162&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIkac0gBXV_lG3ItIKAv2Wub4TUfJULUuORwCPz1-NF1pCvL9NjVTmniDUZyTwX5eT0bLurbMGK4mOPteYxXT_Iu6TSlRSbE8IKARrr6LfI2tKSId0CEDnLlJoAbznCN770yhd1IukwU/s320/7956247.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few clips of Johnny Mathis :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/WaruGgwKCQg&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/WaruGgwKCQg&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/R5Yuyl_5A0g&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/R5Yuyl_5A0g&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/3Q2Af_xrxqA&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/3Q2Af_xrxqA&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;350&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/YR4QGi4kxkk&amp;amp;rel=1&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/YR4QGi4kxkk&amp;rel=1&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;350&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/things-that-matter-to-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lTqsTe5Ckr4KMqTAVv6JFAW_yDa03I74bkVwoy1vdo5Em-8Xiq34UXmGSwpOECpAuq3ZctpVhs5PGesTANjuXVbM8yl7WEaP7ef7xeUrrPjhsSPeHcyA4KBY7NvM-a5nrLI8fDpA8C0/s72-c/Johnny%2520Mathis.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8722479675040992591.post-3108113159396851277</guid><pubDate>Thu, 09 Aug 2007 05:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-10T14:09:36.562-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Akward First Meeting</category><title>My First Post</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;&quot;&gt;You know, I realize that it takes &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of ego for someone to believe that their thoughts and feelings matter to a large number of people. And even more so with hundreds of thousands of blogs out in &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; land. Well...I don&#39;t have a super ego. In fact, I&#39;ll be &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_2&quot;&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; if one person reads my postings. Eh, it doesn&#39;t matter.  Hey, it&#39;s worth a go at it anyway I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don&#39;t have a central theme as of yet. Probably just a bunch of my crazy, mixed up and random thoughts that hopefully you&#39;ll find amusing, or at the very least &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_4&quot;&gt;mildly&lt;/span&gt; insightful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could describe myself in one word, I think it would be &#39;weird&#39;. Yeah, I&#39;m pretty weird for a 23 year old, black female college student. I like to go against the grain, mainly because I don&#39;t which way the grain goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let&#39;s see where this will take us. Who knows, maybe one day I&#39;ll become the most famous blogger in cyberspace and become filthy rich and then use my money and power to crush all of those who oppose me!! Or maybe I&#39;ll give up on this like I did my last attempt to quit smoking and diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;</description><link>http://thesuckabilityoflife.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-first-post.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Unknown)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>