<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYBR3c7fyp7ImA9WxBbE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889</id><updated>2010-03-11T09:19:16.907-05:00</updated><title>Junket Juice</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>124</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/JunketJuice" /><feedburner:info uri="junketjuice" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUEQXwyeip7ImA9WxBUGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-8690424902221663288</id><published>2010-03-05T19:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T20:00:00.292-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-05T20:00:00.292-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>You Say You Want a Revolution</title><content type="html">Alright...Listen up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This world is absolutely perverted.&amp;nbsp; It's not just the United States.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Oh no it isn't.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm looking at you Canada, Korea, France, New Zealand, United Kingdom and Italy. Each country has found this blog by googling the phrase, "nipple pinching". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are all kinky bastards too.&amp;nbsp; I can tell by what you put into google.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's take a look at the search terms, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"nipple pinching" - ( mostly from the U.S. and multiply that by 29 people.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"PINCHING NIPPLES" - (once again, majority of the U.S. likes to pinch their nipples or the nipples of the ones closest to them..or maybe they just want to get back at a bully and needed some tips. Why was it in all caps? Was it urgent?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"can pinching nipples make them big" (if by &lt;i&gt;them&lt;/i&gt; you mean nipples, then I apologize because my mind was in the gutter...the deep one.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"nippel pincing" - (You're so cute New Zealand.&amp;nbsp; You don't even know how to spell it but you know how to find it online.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"rough sex nipple pinching" - (I guess Texas wasn't as boring as I thought.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"neeples pinching"- (By far, my favorite.&amp;nbsp; Well done, Italy.&amp;nbsp; Well done.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"why do cage fighters pinch their nipples"- (Which is what started this post in the first place.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"women pinching their nipples" - (Washington..you've been a bad, bad state.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's becoming very clear to me that as a species, we are all kinky and perverted in our own ways.&amp;nbsp; Also, I'm kind of proud to have started a nipple pinching revolution.&amp;nbsp; Go, Junket, go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-8690424902221663288?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/8690424902221663288/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=8690424902221663288&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8690424902221663288?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8690424902221663288?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/03/you-say-you-want-revolution.html" title="You Say You Want a Revolution" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQMRH45eip7ImA9WxBbEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-3898819377749480249</id><published>2010-03-03T22:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T00:03:05.022-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-10T00:03:05.022-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Eff You Cancer</title><content type="html">Today is March 3, 2010.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My dad died three years ago today.  I honestly can't believe it's been three years.  Three was his lucky number too.  He died on the third day of the third month at 3:30 am.  I turned thirty-three that year and now it's three years later.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Sadness? I'mma let you finish, but Junket has the best death story of all time.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, not really. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer at the end of January.  He died in the beginning of March.  Once he went to the hospital, he never came home again.  The cancer was too aggressive to treat. They tried to get it out, but after an hour of surgery, the best neurosurgeon in the state came into the waiting room and told us that there was nothing he could do.  Having been through the same thing with my grandfather, my father opted to go into hospice with no treatment.  We couldn't change his mind.  It wasn't even up for discussion.  All we could do was watch him wither away for five weeks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, this is a sad story and I could go on about emotions and the tears and the heartache but I try my best to remember the good times we had in the end.  Like how he would fake like he was asleep when my mom or some of my other siblings were around.  As soon as they would leave the room he would say, "About fucking time" and then we'd hang out and watch coverage of Anna Nicole Smith's death and eat ice cream.  What can I say? We know how to lighten the mood.  Let me add that &lt;i&gt;I &lt;/i&gt;would eat ice cream.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;He&lt;/i&gt; (who lost the use of his left side after surgery but wouldn't let anyone help him) would let it dribble from his bottom lip and maybe hit his chin.&amp;nbsp; It was priceless and I'm the only one he'd eat around. He said it wasn't awkward because I'm just as messy with the use of &lt;i&gt;both&lt;/i&gt; hands.&amp;nbsp; Touche.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They say that when when the cancer is about to win, there will be a day when the person just seems so much more aware than usual.&amp;nbsp; They are alert and talking more often.&amp;nbsp; They ask for food and drink again and they laugh and have a good time.&amp;nbsp; It can be very deceiving if you don't know it's coming.&amp;nbsp; I almost missed this day with my dad.&amp;nbsp; The hospice house he was in was an hour away from home.&amp;nbsp; It was the only one that had room at the time.&amp;nbsp; I went every single day to see him and to bring food and clothes to my mom who stayed there with him.&amp;nbsp; I almost didn't go that day.&amp;nbsp; I give thanks every day that I changed my mind at the last minute.&amp;nbsp; When I got there, my brother and sister were giving him beer through a syringe.&amp;nbsp; He asked for it and he got it.&amp;nbsp; He was talking and cracking jokes and it was like the good old days.&amp;nbsp; After everyone left and my mom fell asleep, he and I watched The Academy Awards.&amp;nbsp; I always watch the red carpet. As we were watching, I looked at my dad and asked if he wanted anything.&amp;nbsp; Here's how it went down:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; How do you feel? Do you want anything?&amp;nbsp; Want some water?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; I want a drink of &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; water.&amp;nbsp; (Pointing at a red-headed lady in a red dress on television)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; (fucking confused) What? She doesn't have any water.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad: ........................................&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Oh my God, never mind.&amp;nbsp; You are a dirty old man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; Hey, what inning is this?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; It's The Academy Awards.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; Oh, I thought it was the World Series.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; Hey, go get me some ice cream. Let's have ice cream.&amp;nbsp; (He hadn't had any in two weeks)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Sure, I'll go get some from the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; No stupid, it's in that drawer right there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Okay, I'll get it from the drawer then.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad:&amp;nbsp; You're damn right you will.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hence, the beauty of brain cancer.&amp;nbsp; You may retain some information but it comes out all fucked up.&amp;nbsp; Consider it a license to say and do whatever you feel and blame it on the cancer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now I live in L.A.&amp;nbsp; Home of The Academy Awards.&amp;nbsp; A few miles down the street they have closed off the road and are setting up the red carpet, tents and the bleachers for this Sunday's ceremony.&amp;nbsp; Every single time I pass it, I think of my dad and the night I almost missed.&amp;nbsp; Every year, I watch the red carpet show and anyone who wears a red dress gets my vote.&amp;nbsp; I wish my friends and family were here so we could try to get as close as we could to the red carpet and leave a bottle of water....in memory of the most amazing man I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S480fzAnlSI/AAAAAAAAAVA/re8DFIKDQsE/s1600-h/oscars_redcarpetap_gallery__598x400_1__gallery__598x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S480fzAnlSI/AAAAAAAAAVA/re8DFIKDQsE/s320/oscars_redcarpetap_gallery__598x400_1__gallery__598x400.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-3898819377749480249?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/3898819377749480249/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=3898819377749480249&amp;isPopup=true" title="21 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3898819377749480249?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3898819377749480249?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/03/eff-you-cancer.html" title="Eff You Cancer" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S480fzAnlSI/AAAAAAAAAVA/re8DFIKDQsE/s72-c/oscars_redcarpetap_gallery__598x400_1__gallery__598x400.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8GRX06fyp7ImA9WxBUFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-7833227877509984282</id><published>2010-03-01T00:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T00:53:44.317-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-01T00:53:44.317-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Re-used and Recycled</title><content type="html">I've got too much going on in my life at once to write about anything good today.&amp;nbsp; Instead, I'm giving you a recycled "myspace quiz" that I blogged about last year.&amp;nbsp; I can't take these things seriously because they are ridiculous.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure my friends were very happy with my responses, but then again, I'm not very happy when I get tagged with this bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Monday Guys!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_488692635"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If the person you like signed onto your myspace right now and read your messages would they get mad?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
What am I? Ten? Wouldn't you get mad if the person you liked read your messages and found out that you're kind of slightly retarded?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What was the first thing you said when you woke up today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"Dang...I think I'm out of coffee creamer and beagle, your breath is slightly horrifying when it's all up in my face like this."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;If something was wrong, who is the first girl you would go to?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Depends on the level of "wrong".&amp;nbsp; If it's morally wrong then it's probably going to be my BFF.&amp;nbsp; If&amp;nbsp;it's "oh-no-I-need-bail-money" wrong then it'll probably be my Mama, but we all know that's never going to be an issue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Does the last person who put their arms around you mean anything to you?&lt;/b&gt;Does it have to be a person?&amp;nbsp; Can it be&amp;nbsp;the bucket on the boat that my collar bone decided to make out with?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you think you have made a difference in anyones life?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I mean, the beagle doesn't exactly have thumbs so he depends on me to serve him his royal kibble.&amp;nbsp; Which means, I'm going with...yes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What's the last thing you laughed at?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnRleHRzZnJvbWxhc3RuaWdodC5jb20="&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;www.textsfromlastnight.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Best text of all time:&lt;br /&gt;
Pants -&amp;nbsp;0.&amp;nbsp; Shit -&amp;nbsp;1.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Which of your friends is the easiest to talk to?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I find talking to be relatively easy.&amp;nbsp; Haven't noticed any speech impediments on my part whilst talking to others.&amp;nbsp; As a rule, this does not include the jager years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?&lt;/b&gt;That would be Sister Potato Head when I was reminding her she was full of shit.&amp;nbsp; Deep, deep, get your waiters on kind of shit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Does the thought of marriage scare you?&lt;/b&gt;If by marriage you mean snakes....hell yes.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;If your best friend made out with your boyfriend/​​girlfriend,​​​ what would you do?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Probably ask her who it was.&amp;nbsp; I'd like to know the answer to that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who and what can make you feel better if you’re not feeling happy?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"I'm on a boat AND it's going fast AND I got a nautical themed pashmina....."&lt;br /&gt;
Works every time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What are you doing besides this?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thinking about embarrassing Sister Potato Head in a slideshow of fishing/refugee rescue pictures from last weekend.&amp;nbsp; However, I think I'll save it for her wedding day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Are you logged into any instant messanger programs?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No = maybe, but I'm hiding out from stalkers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you have any dishes in your room?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Nope, but I did see a comforter pattern the other day that coincidentally matches the pattern of Corel dishes I've been stalking lately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;It’s 11am. What are you doing?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Actually, it's 12:30.&amp;nbsp; Get it right.&amp;nbsp; What are YOU doing?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;When was the last time you cried?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
For real or for fake?&amp;nbsp; I watched Marley &amp;amp; Me again last night so there is your answer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Explain what stopped your last kiss?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You're gonna have to buy the book to find that out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What's your face look like right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Let me go check.&amp;nbsp; Jay Leno.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Have you ever looked someone straight in the eyes and told them a lie?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Did I or did I not have a boob shirt on in this scenario?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who can make you feel better in a difficult situation?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
McGyver...all the way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Where is the person you miss most right now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In my mind, he's hanging out in the clouds, drinking a PBR and ridiculing all of my crappy life decisions but appreciating the fact that it gives him something to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;If you could hang out with&amp;nbsp;anyone you want, who would it be?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I'm going with Rob Dyrdek on this one.&amp;nbsp; Life needs to be just a little more fun than it actually is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
....like remembering a $100 bar tab the second you wake up the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;How do you know when you're 'in love'?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When you find yourself doing things you normally only see in Lifetime movies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Would you pay someone to kill the last person who hurt you most?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eh, I'd rather have a new Nikon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Did anyone show you the song you're currently listening to?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever said to someone, "Let me &lt;i&gt;show&lt;/i&gt; you this song?"&amp;nbsp; Me either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Can you really be "addicted" to someone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Does this person have an endless supply of diet coke?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Does the last person you held hands with mean a lot to you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
...and then I said to my BFF, "what did I tell you about stopping to talk to strange men on the way back from the bathroom?" as I grabbed her hand and went back outside to the tiki bar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What were you like as a child?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Annoying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was the last person of the opposite sex you hung out with?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I swear, if the beagle doesn't get out and get a job soon I'm going to make him start volunteering at the shelter three days a week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Person of the same sex?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Huh?&amp;nbsp; Are we still on the previous question?&amp;nbsp; Is incessant texting the same as hanging out?&amp;nbsp; I think if there are 10 or more texts involved that qualifies as hanging out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What color are your eyes?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The same color as my shirt.&amp;nbsp; Wierd.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was your crush in 7th grade?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Kirk Cameron&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;How would you describe your day in three words?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I love coffee.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Look at your nails; do they need to be cut?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Who am I? Wolverine?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;About how many hours of sleep did you get last night?&lt;/b&gt;I said six but the benedryl said eight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Is your hair naturally straight?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for the reminder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What is your opinion on Obama?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I'm pretty sure it's too late to take anyone's opinion into account at this point.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile?&lt;/b&gt;My niece and also said text from earlier question.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Is there something you want to say to someone but can't/won't?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I'm on step 8 of the 12-step program for that thanks to Professor BFF&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;How do you think the year will end for you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Not the way it was supposed to, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Have you ever turned someone down when you didn't want to?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why would I do that? I have very little self-control. Kiddinggggggg.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What was going through your mind during your last kiss?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Go, go, go! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was the last person you took a picture with?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A beautiful trout.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What are you doing friday night?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Hoping my Saturday morning volunteers don't call in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you like to cuddle?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Uh..not with a bucket, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you kiss a lot of people?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Am I going to be challenged on this answer?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you laugh at the wrong times?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I laughed at my Dad's funeral.&amp;nbsp; Akon's fault.&amp;nbsp; Not mine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who was the first person you talked to today?&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_488692635"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The dog and I had a discussion about how my rolling over does not mean we're getting up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you have any guy best friends?&lt;/b&gt;I do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Who did you last get a dirty look from?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever seen Sister Potato Head shoot a dirty look?&amp;nbsp; It's almost painful to mortals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;How often do you wear a belt?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Not with my PJ's, I'll tell you that much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What do you get complimented on the most?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My kick-ass work ethic/lack of personal life...same thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Do you want to fix anything with anyone?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Anyone that will come over and help me hang that kitchen cabinet back up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Will you talk to the person you like/love tonight?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I talk to myself all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Are you a jealous person?&lt;/b&gt;Someone's going to Italy tomorrow.&amp;nbsp; I'm&amp;nbsp;openly jealous, but he's bringing me back a tall, dark and handsome Italian so I'm going to let that one go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Have you ever been heartbroken?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You bet your Kelly Clarkson loving ass I have.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;What are you doing today?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thinking about how to make someone uncomfortable in my novel and then dinner with Sister Potato Head!&amp;nbsp; Looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Did you see anyone last night that made you smile?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There was a Rob &amp;amp; Big marathon on MTV2 yesterday.&amp;nbsp; It made me smile for hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Looking back, did you ever waste too much time on a certain boy or girl?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
What's the cutoff here?&amp;nbsp; Are there qualification guidelines?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Have you ever slept in a bed with the opposite sex?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No, Mom.&amp;nbsp; Why would I do that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogContent" id="pBlogBody_488692635"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;                 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" class="blogContentInfo"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;                       &lt;td&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" style="width: 600px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="left" valign="top" width="60"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Renegade-b-w-Sing-Day/dp/B001BEHOZI%3FSubscriptionId%3D10YFNG2YAAQ0VTNNR4R2%26tag%3Dmyspace08-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB001BEHOZI"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/513yrOMZxpL._SL75_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left" valign="top"&gt;Currently&amp;nbsp;listening:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Renegade-b-w-Sing-Day/dp/B001BEHOZI%3FSubscriptionId%3D10YFNG2YAAQ0VTNNR4R2%26tag%3Dmyspace08-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB001BEHOZI"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Renegade b/w Sing For The Day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
By&amp;nbsp;Styx&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="blogCommentsProfile"&gt;&lt;a class="profileLinks" href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendid=102095768"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                         &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-7833227877509984282?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/7833227877509984282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=7833227877509984282&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/7833227877509984282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/7833227877509984282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/03/re-used-and-recycled.html" title="Re-used and Recycled" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8BRHk-eyp7ImA9WxBUFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-5270977815874557772</id><published>2010-02-26T01:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T00:54:15.753-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-01T00:54:15.753-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Bringing Sexy Back</title><content type="html">I so badly want to write about the conversation I had yesterday about sex with someone &lt;strike&gt;not my mom&lt;/strike&gt; but because I love her and need to protect her, I am refraining.&amp;nbsp; I mean, the fact that she was okay with pairing a sexy lace push-up bra with cotton granny panties is so blog-worthy.&amp;nbsp; Alas, I am keeping my mouth shut because I disagree that even high cut cotton briefs are acceptable "sexy time" apparel.&amp;nbsp; I also shudder when I think about the bikini wax she had for the first time in her life and why she is suddenly partaking in such beauty rituals that I have been shunned and scolded for.&amp;nbsp; What was in that amazon.com box &lt;strike&gt;someone else's mom&lt;/strike&gt;?&amp;nbsp; It didn't look like a set of Ginsu knives to me - &lt;i&gt;oh no it didn't&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I also don't want to talk about the phrase, "friends with benefits" that was stored in your google search history.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not going to write about that kind of stuff because it's sacred, &lt;i&gt;goddamnit&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp; I'm in enough trouble as it is, what with my being a fuck up and all.&amp;nbsp; I don't need the added pressure of disappointing yet another person in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Go ahead &lt;strike&gt;not my sister's mom either&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp; total stranger.&amp;nbsp; Get your sexy on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-5270977815874557772?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/5270977815874557772/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=5270977815874557772&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5270977815874557772?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5270977815874557772?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/bringing-sexy-back.html" title="Bringing Sexy Back" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8NQHY6fCp7ImA9WxBUFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-5093329550033390765</id><published>2010-02-25T18:30:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T00:54:51.814-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-01T00:54:51.814-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Useless Pop Culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>This. Is. Sucky.</title><content type="html">"I'm going to West Hollywood!!!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um. What?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, that's where I work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, since this season of American Idol sucks so hard, I feel like it makes my day a little more exciting to shout this out before I leave the house because let's face it -judging from the performances I've seen the past few nights, even I could be a contestant.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh wait - was this week the top 24 or are we still in the try-out stages? That would actually make more sense since the past two nights have been S-U-C-K-Y.&amp;nbsp; It's a word.&amp;nbsp; Look it up.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Oh snap&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I beat you to it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Urban Dictionary Style:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sucky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table id="entries"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="text" colspan="2" id="entry_1123349"&gt;&lt;div class="definition"&gt;Sucky is a descendant of the word &lt;a class="urbantip" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=suck"&gt;suck&lt;/a&gt;, but can have a different meaning depending on the context, and the type of person using the word. &lt;i&gt;(Junkettttttttttttt)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="example"&gt;1) What a sucky day! - bad, gloomy day &lt;br /&gt;
2) Get off my porch, you sucky fruitbag! -derogatory usage &lt;br /&gt;
3) You want sucky sucky? Me love you long time - translated from Engrish to English, this line reads, 'Want me to suck your dick?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sucky. adj. Has the state of &lt;a class="urbantip" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=sucking"&gt;sucking&lt;/a&gt; to the max. Has a high degree of &lt;a class="urbantip" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=suckability"&gt;suckability&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="example"&gt;My girlfriend took me out to the dollar cinema and we saw the movie "Sibling Rivalry". I had NEVER seen a movie so sucky. It was depressing that anyone would find such &lt;a class="urbantip" href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=trash"&gt;trash&lt;/a&gt; to be entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Oh, it's not over yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;Sucky. Possessing a high level of suctitude. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
An adjective to describe something that not only sucks now, but will likely always suck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="example"&gt;I could either read a book tonight or watch &lt;strike&gt;American Idol&lt;/strike&gt; a sucky sitcom on TV.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="example"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never underestimate the power of the Urban Dictionary.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sucky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="definition"&gt;A word I like to use a lot and it means unpleasant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="example"&gt;Fred: Hey schmoo those shoes are really sucky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="example"&gt;Schmoo: Maybe I like sucky.     &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;Fred: Well good for you!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dawg.&amp;nbsp;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-5093329550033390765?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/5093329550033390765/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=5093329550033390765&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5093329550033390765?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5093329550033390765?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/this-is-sucky.html" title="This. Is. Sucky." /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIASX4-eip7ImA9WxBVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-1549511579091491728</id><published>2010-02-21T15:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T02:09:08.052-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T02:09:08.052-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Useless Pop Culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Nipple Pinching</title><content type="html">That got your attention, didn't it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It got my attention last night too, but not in the way you're thinking.&amp;nbsp; I'm talking about the UFC - Ultimate Fighting Challenge.&amp;nbsp; You know, for a girl who is all about the love and saving the oceans, I don't understand what it is inside of me that loves a good fight.&amp;nbsp; If there isn't a fight during a hockey game, I'm sorely disappointed and ready to start one myself.&amp;nbsp; So, imagine my horror/delight last night when I found myself craving more UFC fighting?&amp;nbsp; What the hell is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me start out by saying that I didn't just stumble upon this sport on my own.&amp;nbsp; I learned about it from one of my guy friends.&amp;nbsp; I know that all of my fellow bloggers who have been posting about male/female friendships this weeks just peed a little when I said that.&amp;nbsp; I have just refrained from joining you in the weekly discussion because my friend actually reads this stuff. He would also like me to refer to him as "The Great One" in this blog.&amp;nbsp; I told him that was not happening, but whoomp, there it is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, since I am still in the process of making new local friends I have been relying on The Great One to entertain me.&amp;nbsp; On one hand, it's great because we get to hang out whenever we want.&amp;nbsp; On the other hand, maybe we've only been friends for so long because of the distance.&amp;nbsp; There is only so much of me that one person can take before they are asking for a refund because this friend is defective.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I texted him the other day to see if he wanted to go to a photography expo this weekend.&amp;nbsp; Here is how the convo went.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Do you want to go to the photo expo on Saturday?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Great One:&amp;nbsp; Not sure I can.&amp;nbsp; The UFC is on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: I just got shut down for the UFC? Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TGO:&amp;nbsp; Ha ha.&amp;nbsp; Blog that. LOL&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Nah...then I'd have to give you a name and you'll get hate mail and all that nonsense.&amp;nbsp; No time for that!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TGO:&amp;nbsp; "The Great One" works for a name.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Yeah, that's not happening.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TGO:&amp;nbsp; "Greatness" is good too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: I have no idea if you're actually great so that would be false advertising and I can't do that to my readers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TGO:&amp;nbsp; You have to believe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So in the end, I didn't get shut down for the UFC.&amp;nbsp; The Great One let me and the beagle enjoy it with him.&amp;nbsp; (Probably because the more exciting UFC plans fell through and I won by default but I'll let it go this time.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you've never watched the UFC, brace yourself.&amp;nbsp; Imagine a cage in the middle of an arena.&amp;nbsp; The place is full of screaming fans in sparkly, bedazzled Affliction and Ed Hardy t-shirts.&amp;nbsp; They are wasted and impatiently waiting for their favorite fighters to beat the shit out of each other.&amp;nbsp; The lights go out.&amp;nbsp; The walkout music starts and the fighters come out.&amp;nbsp; They do an awkward dance of some sort and then strip down to their shorts.&amp;nbsp; They grab their balls to prove to the ref they have on a cup and then they get in the cage. Some actually pinch their nipples to get the adrenaline flowing and then, they do a little combination of boxing, wrestling, jiu jitsu and erotic groping.&amp;nbsp; It's basically the equivalent of rough sex so I was kind of all about it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Intrigued, one might say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm sure that men are looking at it from a technical standpoint.&amp;nbsp; I was looking at it from more of a "damn, your ass looks really good from that position and I wish I could bite it" standpoint.&amp;nbsp; Then someone starts to bleed because like I said - &lt;i&gt;rough sex&lt;/i&gt; - and then I'm not as turned on by it anymore.&amp;nbsp; I'm not talking about a little blood either.&amp;nbsp; Remember that scene from &lt;i&gt;Carrie&lt;/i&gt; when the bucket of blood fell? Yeah. Just like that.&amp;nbsp; Then later on, the next two fighters come in and FIGHT ON THE SAME BLOODY MAT.&amp;nbsp; For all intents and purposes, I should be throwing up my Chipotle at this point, but I'm not.&amp;nbsp; I even manage to watch most of it.&amp;nbsp; Probably because I'm waiting for them to rip off their shorts and just start banging each other because let's be honest? It's all leading up to that.&amp;nbsp; Sadly, they don't show that part.&amp;nbsp; They declare a winner and then Romeo and Romeo's bitch find a private place to finish up what they started.&amp;nbsp; It's good stuff, actually.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So yeah.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure what this says about me, but I can't wait to watch it again.&amp;nbsp; Will you still be my friend or did I just ruin it for you guys?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-1549511579091491728?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/1549511579091491728/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=1549511579091491728&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/1549511579091491728?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/1549511579091491728?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/nipple-pinching.html" title="Nipple Pinching" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08AR30-fCp7ImA9WxBVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-2555204560050039895</id><published>2010-02-18T01:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T01:57:26.354-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T01:57:26.354-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Juicy Shout-Outs" /><title>Pay It Forward - The Sequel</title><content type="html">Remember the nice woman who bought Sister Potato Head and I latte's at the &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/pay-it-forward.html"&gt;Starbucks in El Paso&lt;/a&gt;? She actually found my post about it.&amp;nbsp; Seriously? I love the internet.&amp;nbsp; One little random act of kindness has turned into something really great.&amp;nbsp; Karma is so much more than just a bitch these days. Don't you think?&amp;nbsp; I also think you should jump over to &lt;a href="http://armylifeforthesecondwife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danielle's blog&lt;/a&gt; and read the story of how she found that post and my blog.&amp;nbsp; Good stuff!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nice to "meet" you Danielle!&amp;nbsp; Once again... thank you SO MUCH for the drinks!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name="fb_share" type="button" share_url="www.junketjuice.com" href="http://www.facebook.com/sharer.php"&gt;Share&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/connect.php/js/FB.Share" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-2555204560050039895?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/2555204560050039895/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=2555204560050039895&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2555204560050039895?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2555204560050039895?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/pay-it-forward-sequel.html" title="Pay It Forward - The Sequel" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DSHwyfCp7ImA9WxBVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-8990337219803491540</id><published>2010-02-17T02:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T01:59:39.294-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T01:59:39.294-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Forty Days</title><content type="html">Q: What do you call a family of loud mouths that like to get their drink on and make up their own curse words?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A: Catholic&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3ueHEHy2cI/AAAAAAAAAUs/EquIcp8hUjA/s1600-h/lent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="161" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3ueHEHy2cI/AAAAAAAAAUs/EquIcp8hUjA/s200/lent.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Alas, Ash Wednesday is approaching.&amp;nbsp; This means that tomorrow Lent begins and we get to burn up some old blessed palms from last year and wear them on our forehead.&amp;nbsp; In theory, it's a beautiful tradition to mark the beginning of the preparation for the resurrection of Jesus Christ.&amp;nbsp; In reality, it means I'll spend a good part of the day with strangers painfully asking me if I fell face first into an ashtray.&amp;nbsp; This is how it works.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me add that I'm not bashing my religion.&amp;nbsp; I am proud to be Catholic and there are parts of Catholicism that I truly love and believe in.&amp;nbsp; There are also parts that I sometimes question and need further clarification on.&amp;nbsp; This will never change.&amp;nbsp; I'm just not one of those Catholics that make it to Mass every Sunday.&amp;nbsp; Should I? Yes.&amp;nbsp; I should try harder.&amp;nbsp; I'll put a little more effort into it when Mass isn't up against my Saturday afternoon free time or my Sunday morning sleep-in.&amp;nbsp; Hence, the reason I'm most likely going to spend a good part of eternity arguing my way out of purgatory.&amp;nbsp; It's my cross to bear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As most of you may know, Catholics give up something for the forty days of Lent.&amp;nbsp; Ideally, you're supposed to give up one of your vices, search within to bring yourself closer to God and help others.&amp;nbsp; So imagine the field day that was bestowed upon me while reading Sister Potato Head's Facebook update today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Behold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Sister Potato Head&lt;/b&gt; is giving up Facebook for Lent. Don't be sad, Facebook.&amp;nbsp; It's not you, it's me. I just need time to find myself.&amp;nbsp; (Be back April 4th.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Junket's Response&lt;/b&gt; That's the best laugh I've had all day.&amp;nbsp; No, seriously.&amp;nbsp; THE BEST. It's like me giving up Diet Coke for Lent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I'm dying over the comments friends and family are posting (none of which were the least bit encouraging) My phone rings.&amp;nbsp; It's SPH.&amp;nbsp; How do I know this? Because her ringtone is Cavo's "Champagne".&amp;nbsp; You know, the one with lyrics that say "&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;Coulda been the champagne (champagne) - Coulda been the cocaine &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;(cocaine)".&lt;/i&gt; It's what all good Catholic girls listen to these days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; I'm serious.&amp;nbsp; I have a Facebook stalking problem and I'm giving it up for Lent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket: Um, okay.&amp;nbsp; You realize you have about fifteen minutes to get your last bit of stalking out because then it's technically Ash Wednesday, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; I've already said my peace with FB.&amp;nbsp; I even sent birthday wishes to friends whose birthdays fall during Lent.&amp;nbsp; It's what God would want me to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Christ.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; What are you giving up -because let me tell you what's going on at home.&amp;nbsp; *Betty Boop is giving up swearing, Optimus Prime is giving up Dr. Pepper, Anakin Skywalker is giving up video games and Alf is giving up farting in front of the family. Anyone caught divulging in their vice has to put a dollar in the swear jar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; First of all, Betty Boop better take out a loan.&amp;nbsp; Secondly, when did Lent turn into a competition? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; You laugh now, but when I win the money in the jar, I'm going to buy a lottery ticket and we'll see who's laughing then.&amp;nbsp; I think you should give up Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Shut your fucking face.&amp;nbsp; I'm not giving that up.&amp;nbsp; I may try to go caffeine free but I'm not letting go. Not now.&amp;nbsp; Not in the prime of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; Fine.&amp;nbsp; Then give up diet coke in.....&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;DUN DUN DUN&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;....the bottle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Now you're just talking stupid.&amp;nbsp; Are you drunk?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; Nope, you can have all the Diet Coke you want but for the next forty days it has to be in a can and not your precious 20 oz. bottles.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Wait just a minute.&amp;nbsp; Facebook is synced to your email.&amp;nbsp; You'll get your FB messages in your email you great big cheater.&amp;nbsp; I hear you laughing.&amp;nbsp; You didn't think anyone would catch on, did you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; Why are you changing the subject?&amp;nbsp; Hope you like your Diet Coke in a can!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Hope you like not eating meat on Fridays......or Ash Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; What? No.&amp;nbsp; Fuck that.&amp;nbsp; I'm having a ham sandwich tomorrow.&amp;nbsp; God knows I struggle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; Eat the ham sandwich on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; No! I start my diet on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket: Why don't we just give up sex instead?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH: ....................................&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:..................................&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SPH:&amp;nbsp; Oh my God.&amp;nbsp; I thought you were serious for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Junket:&amp;nbsp; No one is serious about that.&amp;nbsp; Not having sex for forty days is just an unfortunate dry spell.&amp;nbsp; No one does something drastic like that on purpose.&amp;nbsp; Good luck with your ham sandwich on Ash Wednesday.&amp;nbsp; See you in Hell.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*Names have been changed to protect those that will be bringing shame to themselves when they give into their vices....repeatedly....for &lt;strike&gt;Family Competition Season&lt;/strike&gt; Lent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just because it's pretty funny, I'm sharing some actual commentary from SPH's Facebook page that she &lt;i&gt;claims&lt;/i&gt; (air quotes all over that shit) that she can't read.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Anakin Skywalker&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt; Dear Diary: Day 1. The longing for stalking the people I call "my friends" on Facebook begins -- the reality of the entire situation really hasn't quite set in yet, but all I know is that it's going to be a long 40 days. I'm scared diary...hold me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Junket&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;"I'm will&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;i&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;ng to give up Facebook for Lent but not my ham sandwich on Ash Wednesday." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Sister Potato Head - Lent 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Optimus Prime &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;"I'm too drunk to taste this chicken."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Colonel Sanders.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks be to God.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name="fb_share" type="button" share_url="www.junketjuice.com" href="http://www.facebook.com/sharer.php"&gt;Share&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/connect.php/js/FB.Share" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-8990337219803491540?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/8990337219803491540/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=8990337219803491540&amp;isPopup=true" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8990337219803491540?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8990337219803491540?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/forty-days.html" title="Forty Days" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3ueHEHy2cI/AAAAAAAAAUs/EquIcp8hUjA/s72-c/lent.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QCR3Y6eSp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-2667224778926870353</id><published>2010-02-15T17:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T19:16:06.811-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T19:16:06.811-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Indeed</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nPo24auOI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SqPhNSGYvzA/s1600-h/2010-02-14+12.33.01_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nPo24auOI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SqPhNSGYvzA/s320/2010-02-14+12.33.01_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Indeed my good man.&amp;nbsp; In-freakin'-deed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've been thinking about all the things I'd like to do now that I actually live in So Cal.&amp;nbsp; So far, here are the things I've decided I need to accomplish.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1. Rent bikes (beach cruisers baby) and ride them up and down Santa Monica and Venice Beach.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;2. Find the snow that I KNOW is close by and have a fun snow day.&amp;nbsp; Maybe try a little snowboarding or just fall on my face a lot.&amp;nbsp; I'm totally down for whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;3. I want to go on a date to the Santa Monica pier at night.&amp;nbsp; Sister Potato Head and I came up with this theory while she was visiting.&amp;nbsp; It looks like the best date ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;4. I want to find Rydell High School.&amp;nbsp; According to the internet (who doesn't lie) it is located somewhere close by.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;5. I want to spend a whole day on the beach in Malibu with nothing but sunscreen, some drinks and books.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;6. I will make my way back to Catalina.&amp;nbsp; If it's the last thing I do...I'm going back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;7.&amp;nbsp; I want to drive PCH up to Big Sur.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;8.&amp;nbsp; I want to go exploring in Mexico.&amp;nbsp; No, not Tijuana.&amp;nbsp; Been there, done that, lost a portion of my dignity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;9. Lake Tahoe sounds pretty sweet.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;10.&amp;nbsp; I'm pretty sure that I should go to Vegas at least once in my life.&amp;nbsp; Yes?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. Going to a winery sounds like fun too.&amp;nbsp; Probably too much fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Crap...Just had a fleeting thought about seeing the Redwoods. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This list is never going to end, is it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-2667224778926870353?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/2667224778926870353/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=2667224778926870353&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2667224778926870353?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2667224778926870353?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/indeed.html" title="Indeed" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nPo24auOI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SqPhNSGYvzA/s72-c/2010-02-14+12.33.01_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEFQnw_eSp7ImA9WxBWGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-8902424077789292814</id><published>2010-02-10T18:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T21:00:13.241-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-10T21:00:13.241-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Chika-Chikah</title><content type="html">Anyone else ever hear Michael Jackson's, &lt;i&gt;"The Way You Make Me Feel"&lt;/i&gt; in a public place and decide you need to strut down the street in a straight line while playing coy to a stranger's advances?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, me neither.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-8902424077789292814?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/8902424077789292814/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=8902424077789292814&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8902424077789292814?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/8902424077789292814?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/chika-chikah.html" title="Chika-Chikah" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IAQXY7fSp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-64586474846178972</id><published>2010-02-09T01:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T19:19:00.805-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T19:19:00.805-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Valentines Is Serious Times</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nkXSHGnXI/AAAAAAAAAUk/d6j0MuQfGag/s1600-h/valentimes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nkXSHGnXI/AAAAAAAAAUk/d6j0MuQfGag/s320/valentimes.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Valentines Day is coming up.&amp;nbsp; Like you needed me to remind you of that.&amp;nbsp; To be honest, the most romantic gestures that have ever happened in my lifetime were never displayed on Valentines Day.&amp;nbsp; It would suck to be the girl whose significant other only celebrated their relationship on February 14th.&amp;nbsp; Being that I am a hopeless romantic, you'd think I'd be all over this holiday.&amp;nbsp; How hopeless you ask? There isn't even a category to put me in.&amp;nbsp; That's how much I believe in fate and serendipity.&amp;nbsp; I'm a tortured soul.&amp;nbsp; What can I say?&amp;nbsp; Since I don't exactly have a valentine this year and I'm in a new place where I don't really know anyone, I guess I'll be celebrating alone....maybe with a diet coke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, there are 10 things in life that I love more than anything.&amp;nbsp; I'll share them with you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;1. I love my niece's laugh - the one where she is laughing so hard that she can't make a sound and she can barely keep her eyes open while she shakes her head from side to side.&amp;nbsp; That laugh - that one right there - is the same one she's had since she was a baby and I will never tire of it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;2. I love my dog.&amp;nbsp; I love him more than I ever thought I could love anything in this entire world.&amp;nbsp; I love the way he sleeps attached to my leg at night and the way he protects little babies like he is their bodyguard.&amp;nbsp; I panic at the thought of anything ever happening to him to the point of becoming neurotic about closed gates and faulty leashes.&amp;nbsp; That crazy beagle drives me up the wall sometimes but he is the best part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;3. I love Coffee Bean &amp;amp; Tea Leaf coffee but I still go to Starbucks for their petite vanilla scones. Not exactly the healthiest of choices so that kind of treat is few and far between.&amp;nbsp; I've still got mad love for them though.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;4. Along those lines, I have a love affair with navel oranges.&amp;nbsp; I particularly like the giant ones I find at the farmer's market.&amp;nbsp; Although the other day, I saw a grapefruit as big as my head there.&amp;nbsp; How is that possible?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;5. I love when someone does something so thoughtful that my heart swells.&amp;nbsp; When I say thoughtful, I mean...there was thought put into it and planning was involved.&amp;nbsp; It doesn't happen often, but when it does...wow.&amp;nbsp; It's the best feeling in the world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;6. Baby Belly Laughs.&amp;nbsp; You know those Youtube videos of babies laughing so hard they fall backwards?&amp;nbsp; I love those.&amp;nbsp; I could watch them all day long.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/11/baby-awesome.html"&gt;Baby Awesome&lt;/a&gt; is starting to get the belly laughs this week and it's all I can do to not walk around the house trying to find things to amuse him.&amp;nbsp; Know what he likes? My dark purple fingernail polish.&amp;nbsp; If I move my hands just the right way, he thinks it's hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;7. I love the beach right before a storm.&amp;nbsp; The temperature drops and the wind starts to blow.&amp;nbsp; Across the water you can see the rain from the clouds hitting parts of the greenish blue water and as it gets darker you know you should take some kind of cover but you're drawn to what's about to happen and you need to feel the rain hit your face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;8. Home for me is being sun-drenched and sandy with no make-up on and crazy saltwater hair.&amp;nbsp; I'm sitting at the smallest island bar in the world - maybe flip flops but probably barefoot and I'm drinking an icy beer and listening to reggae on Sunday.&amp;nbsp; If any of my brothers, BFF and Sister Potato Head are there it's even better.&amp;nbsp; I love these moments.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;9. I love it when someone can make me laugh so hard that I snort.&amp;nbsp; It's hard to do..but congratulations to those who can get me there.&amp;nbsp; Consider yourselves very funny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10. I love my family and friends.&amp;nbsp; It took moving 2500 miles away from them to appreciate the love we have for each other.&amp;nbsp; When the chips are down at home, I always have them. When the chips are down here in California, I've got no one.&amp;nbsp; So, if you are part of that group and you're reading this right now - just know that I love you more than words can say! I miss your hugs and the way you just know how to be there to cheer me up when I'm down.&amp;nbsp; I miss you participating in my life. My friends are my family.&amp;nbsp; I really miss that family right now. I either need to go home or you need to come here.&amp;nbsp; I'll let you choose!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Update...&amp;nbsp; That pity party up there? That just happened.&amp;nbsp; As I look at it again this morning I can see that it's dripping in homesickness.&amp;nbsp; Sorry about that, folks.&amp;nbsp; It was that kind of day.&amp;nbsp; I'll write about animals shitting into their own hand and Old Gregg-ish type stuff tomorrow.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Or maybe I'll just take a blog break until this homesick thing is over.&amp;nbsp; My bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-64586474846178972?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/64586474846178972/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=64586474846178972&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/64586474846178972?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/64586474846178972?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/valentines-is-serious-times.html" title="Valentines Is Serious Times" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S3nkXSHGnXI/AAAAAAAAAUk/d6j0MuQfGag/s72-c/valentimes.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUHQ3k-fSp7ImA9WxBWFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-3886850315396851372</id><published>2010-02-07T20:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T20:23:52.755-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-07T20:23:52.755-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mother Goose Juice" /><title>Deep Thoughts</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S29nlnOBgVI/AAAAAAAAAT8/-HMsxXvHxqE/s1600-h/mother+goose+juice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S29nlnOBgVI/AAAAAAAAAT8/-HMsxXvHxqE/s320/mother+goose+juice.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Just out of curiosity....  Would you decorate your baby's room in a pattern that your good friend (whose name rhymes with funket) wanted to use for the child she didn't have (yet)? Especially since it's ..you know...SEA TURTLES and you don't even like getting sandy.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;script charset="utf-8" src="http://static.polldaddy.com/p/2665562.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;
&lt;/script&gt;&lt;noscript&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br /&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; &amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://answers.polldaddy.com/poll/2665562/"&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Am I Just Being A Bitch?&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span style="font-size:9px;"&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;(&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.polldaddy.com"&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;poll&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;)&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br /&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; &lt;/noscript&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-3886850315396851372?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/3886850315396851372/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=3886850315396851372&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3886850315396851372?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3886850315396851372?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/deep-thoughts.html" title="Deep Thoughts" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S29nlnOBgVI/AAAAAAAAAT8/-HMsxXvHxqE/s72-c/mother+goose+juice.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEMSHw7fSp7ImA9WxBWFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-1161846470680043373</id><published>2010-02-06T00:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T00:21:29.205-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-06T00:21:29.205-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Make An Assessment</title><content type="html">There's nothing better than laughing at the end of a questionable week.&amp;nbsp; Not sure why, but I tend to favor British sketch comedy.&amp;nbsp; Why are you guys so funny? Why do you make me do that snorting thing that is &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; attractive to the opposite sex?&amp;nbsp; If you've never heard of the Mighty Boosh and you have a warped sense of humor like myself, you need to check them out.&amp;nbsp; This is my favorite skit from them.&amp;nbsp; If you already know it, you know you'll watch it again because you love it.&amp;nbsp; If you haven't seen it yet, I apologize for putting such images in your head (no, not really) but I promise you that you'll be quoting it forever.&lt;i&gt; "I'm Old Gregggggg"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vf519RhiDzI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"&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/vf519RhiDzI&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While I'm on the subject.... I was just introduced to "Extras" on HBO with Ricky Gervais.  Oh. My. God.  Funniest shit I've seen on TV in a long ass time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-1161846470680043373?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/1161846470680043373/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=1161846470680043373&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/1161846470680043373?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/1161846470680043373?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/make-assessment.html" title="Make An Assessment" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4AR3s7fyp7ImA9WxBWE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-2687878617909349744</id><published>2010-02-04T18:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T18:09:06.507-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-04T18:09:06.507-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Urban Dictionary</title><content type="html">Thirsty Thursday? Unless you're thirsty for two really ridiculous and random facts about my day, I can't help you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fact #1 - While waiting at the stoplight today a motorcycle with two men zipped between my car and another to gain the top spot at the light.&amp;nbsp; It was a really long light.&amp;nbsp; These precious minutes helped me to realize that the passenger on the bike was having a shirt malfunction and it was sticking up in the back.&amp;nbsp; In a brief moment of "WTF" I noticed that he was indeed wearing Spanx under his clothes.&amp;nbsp; It's not just for fat girls anymore...it's also for men who look like they don't need it in the least.&amp;nbsp; Not that it matters to me or the story in general, but Nelly's song, "Ride With Me" was playing on the radio and that gave the whole scenario a little side of funny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fact #2 - I am the last person in the world to hear of &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/"&gt;Urban Dictionary&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Luckily, Sister Potato Head caught me up to speed and it was just in time.&amp;nbsp; For had I not read it with my own eyes, I would never have known that Junket actually means:&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; "Male semen ejaculated from the testicles."&lt;/i&gt; (as in) &lt;i&gt;"I'm terribly sorry, but I seem to have come my junket all over your blue dress."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.&amp;nbsp; Can your name top this in the &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=junket"&gt;Urban Dictionary&lt;/a&gt;? I need to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-2687878617909349744?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/2687878617909349744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=2687878617909349744&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2687878617909349744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/2687878617909349744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/urban-dictionary.html" title="Urban Dictionary" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMAQ3s9cCp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-6901329790182200876</id><published>2010-02-02T19:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T18:44:02.568-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T18:44:02.568-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Juicy Shout-Outs" /><title>Screw The Oscars</title><content type="html">I'm giving out some blog awards instead!&lt;br /&gt;
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If you don't already read &lt;a href="http://www.grumblesandgrunts.com/"&gt;grumblesandgrunts&lt;/a&gt; you are missing out.&amp;nbsp; Not only is she a great writer who was bold enough to paint her bedroom black, she just nominated me for a Beautiful Blogger award.&amp;nbsp; If this were real life and she was trying to score some booty, I would have just become another notch on her belt.&amp;nbsp; It's also quite possible that I should lay off the analogies for a bit.&amp;nbsp; This isn't the SAT's and whatnot.&amp;nbsp; So, thank you &lt;a href="http://www.grumblesandgrunts.com/"&gt;grumbles&lt;/a&gt; (who purposely does not use capitalization and punctuation so lay off her shit) for the award and also for the shout out that was accompanied by "that damned junket".&amp;nbsp; Dang, it's like she knows me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This award comes with some rules.&amp;nbsp; I also want a crown, but I'm willing to wait on that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Thank the person who nominated me for this award. - CHECK.&lt;br /&gt;
2. Copy the award &amp;amp; place it on my blog. - CHECK.&lt;br /&gt;
3. Link to the person who nominated me for this award. - CHECK.&lt;br /&gt;
4. Share 7 interesting things about myself. - Brace yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
5. Nominate 7 other beautiful bloggers. - ONLY 7? Oh, Christ.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Seven Interesting Things About Junket&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. As of late, I have obviously been referring to myself in the third person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. My favorite beers are as follows: Stella Artois, Blue Moon and Peroni.&amp;nbsp; However, my trainer says I have to remain beer free so she's a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. I don't eat most fish because I believe overfishing is destroying our oceans.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. I am deathly afraid of snakes but I will swim with sharks - excluding great whites.&amp;nbsp; I look too much like a seal from their point of view.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. I have a birthmark that looks like a pink dot from a marker on my left knee.&amp;nbsp; It's how I learned to tell my left from my right. I also have a Jay Leno chin.&amp;nbsp; My friends are assholes about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. I once saw Sting walking through Central Park but today I saw Jane Lynch at Trader Joe's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. My dog loves Gwen Stefani.&amp;nbsp; He howls when he hears &lt;i&gt;Hollaback Girl&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://iamthekeymaster.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bradshaw&lt;/a&gt;...here's your proof. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="327" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=9168563&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=ffffff&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=9168563&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=ffffff&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="327"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/9168563"&gt;Uh-Huh That's His Shit&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user2921437"&gt;Junket Juice&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is also not my house (as seen by all the toys for kids) so I probably pissed a few neighbors off in the process of getting this video! You're welcome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now here are 7 Beautiful Bloggers besides &lt;a href="http://www.grumblesandgrunts.com/"&gt;grumbles&lt;/a&gt; that I recommend you check out.&amp;nbsp; We all tend to follow each others blogs so this may be a little redundant. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://mycheapversionoftherapy.blogspot.com/"&gt;My Cheap Version of Therapy&lt;/a&gt; -Beautiful and brave enough to share her journey with all of us.&amp;nbsp; Plus, up until yesterday, she could drink you under the table and has a secret crush on Jared Allen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://iamthekeymaster.blogspot.com/"&gt;Are You The Gatekeeper&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; - It's probably a good thing we live far way from each other because one bad influence versus another is a court date...unless you're on the ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://kimskitchensink.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kim's Kitchen Sink&lt;/a&gt; - Kim shares my love for Trader Joe's plus she finds me recipes for things like Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.2whiskerbiscuits.blogspot.com/"&gt;Whisker Biscuit&lt;/a&gt; - She is deliciously ridiculous and one of her comments almost made Sister Potato Head and I wet our pants in the car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://penelopelife.wordpress.com/"&gt;Single Mom Adventures&lt;/a&gt; - One woman raising one awesome child who will give you a refreshingly honest and funny account of being a single parent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.accidentalolympian.com/"&gt;The Accidental Olympian&lt;/a&gt; - Chardonnay cupcakes.&amp;nbsp; That's all I gotta say about that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.stuffedashes.com/"&gt;Stuffed Ashes&lt;/a&gt; - Read these reviews before you waste money on any crap.&amp;nbsp; Plus, she has a cute cat.&amp;nbsp; I &lt;strike&gt;hate&lt;/strike&gt; am allergic to cats, but I could never hold that against her because she's awesome.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once you pop...you can't stop.&amp;nbsp; I'm breaking the rules.&amp;nbsp; I don't have tags on my mattresses either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://apartment513.blogspot.com/"&gt;Apartment 513&lt;/a&gt; - So inspiring for such a young girl.&amp;nbsp; Her photography and design skills are incredible.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.mommaruthsays.com/"&gt;MommaRuthSays&lt;/a&gt; - Go get your laugh on with Momma Ruth.&amp;nbsp; I dare you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://donthavekids.wordpress.com/2010/02/02/911/"&gt;Reasons To Be Happy That You Don't Have Kids&lt;/a&gt; - If you are childless...by choice or otherwise...you should read these posts.&amp;nbsp; Karyn is also a beautiful, intelligent and strong woman who is doing things I could only admire.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.asgoodasitgets.org/"&gt;Bloom Where You've Planted&lt;/a&gt; - Wanna see a cute baby? This is where you find it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously...I have to stop now because I am totally breaking the rules but soon I will do a post with all my faves.&amp;nbsp; There are some really wicked funny guy blogs out there and I want to share those with you too.&amp;nbsp; If I missed you this time around, I will catch you on the next one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-6901329790182200876?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/6901329790182200876/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=6901329790182200876&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/6901329790182200876?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/6901329790182200876?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/screw-oscars.html" title="Screw The Oscars" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2i0kVz3q9I/AAAAAAAAAT0/Ta5TUsBCLew/s72-c/Beautiful_Blogger.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQGQXc5cCp7ImA9WxBWEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-3912878098144991895</id><published>2010-02-02T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T18:12:00.928-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-02T18:12:00.928-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Juicy Shout-Outs" /><title>I Am Unafraid</title><content type="html">**This may end up being a two-post Tuesday.&amp;nbsp; I'll try really hard not to jam up your Google reader but I make no promises!**&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sooooo.... Thanks to &lt;a href="http://community.dooce.com/"&gt;The Dooce Community&lt;/a&gt; I've been lucky enough to meet some of the most fascinating people.&amp;nbsp; I seriously wish we weren't all scattered around the world, but either way I am lucky to have met them.&amp;nbsp; One of those people is Josie Maran who started her own line of environmentally friendly cosmetics.&amp;nbsp; If you're into the environment and you care what goes into the products you are spending your dollars on, then you need to check out &lt;a href="http://www.josiemarancosmetics.com/"&gt;Josie Maran Cosmetics&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; You can find her products online or at Sephora.&amp;nbsp; Oh Sephora...... you and my money have such a love/hate relationship.&amp;nbsp; I hope you are happy together. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2iuqjmkntI/AAAAAAAAATk/w0vKO-GALJc/s1600-h/274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2iuqjmkntI/AAAAAAAAATk/w0vKO-GALJc/s320/274.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"I am" is the current &lt;i&gt;Real Women&lt;/i&gt; feature on Josie's blog.&amp;nbsp; I love reading the stories of empowerment on there.&amp;nbsp; Today, I am one of those women.&amp;nbsp; I am unafraid. I had to share a little more of myself in the bio than I do on this blog to really convey why I believe so much in her products, but it's worth it.&amp;nbsp; You'll be all "Junket, I never knew that about you" and I'll have to admit that I only play a swearing sailor in the off-hours and then we'll bond or you'll unfollow me on Twitter because I'm not the bad ass &lt;strike&gt;I think&lt;/strike&gt; you thought I was ...or something. It's a little chink in my anonymity armor but that's okay.&amp;nbsp; Plus, I totally look high in the picture so you NEED to check that out because it won't happen again.&amp;nbsp; I wasn't chemically high.&amp;nbsp; It was a natural high.&amp;nbsp; I just don't know how to properly keep my eyes open.&amp;nbsp; Now that I think about it, I should have changed my sign to read , "I am Not Faded" or something else along those lines.&amp;nbsp; Either way, you can check it out &lt;a href="http://josiemarancosmetics.typepad.com/josie_maran_cosmetics/2010/02/i-am-unafraid.html"&gt;right here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In case you're wondering, I use JMC Tinted Moisturizer and Finger Paints.&amp;nbsp; They are perfect for everyday use when you don't want to look half dead but don't feel like wearing too much make-up.&amp;nbsp; Plus, there is SPF in the moisturizer so you're doing yourself a favor in the long run.&amp;nbsp; As much time as I've spent in the sun in my lifetime, I need all the SPF I can get!&amp;nbsp; I am challenging YOU GUYS to send in your own "I am" statement to Josie.&amp;nbsp; From reading your blogs, I know there are some incredible ladies that can help empower others. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2iuzq0CrQI/AAAAAAAAATs/aMHL1RZYIfs/s1600-h/280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2iuzq0CrQI/AAAAAAAAATs/aMHL1RZYIfs/s320/280.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;In my haste, I clearly stuck my fingers in before I took a picture.&amp;nbsp; Classy, I know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-3912878098144991895?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/3912878098144991895/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=3912878098144991895&amp;isPopup=true" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3912878098144991895?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3912878098144991895?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/i-am-unafraid.html" title="I Am Unafraid" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2iuqjmkntI/AAAAAAAAATk/w0vKO-GALJc/s72-c/274.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUCSH8zfCp7ImA9WxBWEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-6481147239654052828</id><published>2010-02-01T17:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T21:37:49.184-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-01T21:37:49.184-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Weight Loss" /><title>Where Oh Where Have My Biceps Gone?</title><content type="html">Remember back &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/04/dirty-thirty.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; when I had to get all serious about my fitness because I wanted to increase my chances of getting pregnant and then living long enough to see my child become the first female president?&amp;nbsp; Man, I was so into working out and eating healthy back then that I amazed myself.&amp;nbsp; I had triceps and biceps and my legs were all strong and I felt like She-Ra after every workout.&amp;nbsp; What happened?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As of &lt;strike&gt;today&lt;/strike&gt; later this afternoon, I'm back on the wagon.&amp;nbsp; I looked at the wagon last week.&amp;nbsp; I only went out to eat once when I went to dinner with a friend this weekend and the rest of the time I managed to eat pretty well.&amp;nbsp; I probably overdosed on Diet Coke to take the pain away but I'm okay with that.&amp;nbsp; In exactly one hour, I am meeting with a personal trainer.&amp;nbsp; I'm gonna be honest.&amp;nbsp; I hate this gym, but it's close to where I'm living.&amp;nbsp; I just don't understand why there are 300 people in there at any given time of day.&amp;nbsp; I don't want to smell the sweat of 300 people.&amp;nbsp; I just don't.&amp;nbsp; I'm excited about the training, however.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've already pretty much cut all alcohol out of my diet for the past few months with the exception of my going away party and the occasional glass of wine.&amp;nbsp; Alcohol should not be an issue at all.&amp;nbsp; The problem is going to be getting up before 5:00 am to do early morning workouts.&amp;nbsp; I really do miss my muscles.&amp;nbsp; I wish they'd write or text or facebook me once in a while to let me know how they are doing.&amp;nbsp; When I find them again, I'm going to tag them in photos so they can always find their way home.&amp;nbsp; Maybe if I treat them better this time, they will stick around longer.&amp;nbsp; We'll go to counseling, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So wish me luck today.&amp;nbsp; Not so much on the working out but mostly for not letting my trainer pick up on the fact that I had Del Taco for lunch today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-6481147239654052828?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/6481147239654052828/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=6481147239654052828&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/6481147239654052828?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/6481147239654052828?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/02/where-oh-where-have-my-biceps-gone.html" title="Where Oh Where Have My Biceps Gone?" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IGSHs9eyp7ImA9WxBXGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-7055891286376704206</id><published>2010-01-30T02:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T17:12:09.563-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-30T17:12:09.563-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mother Goose Juice" /><title>Baby Peyton</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PfQvIJnBI/AAAAAAAAAR0/EQIW-ZzTou8/s1600-h/mother+goose+juice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PfQvIJnBI/AAAAAAAAAR0/EQIW-ZzTou8/s320/mother+goose+juice.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was an old woman that lived in a shoe.&lt;br /&gt;
She had so many godchildren, she didn't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;
So she kissed them and loved them and loved them some more.&lt;br /&gt;
Then all of a sudden she realized she had four.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PhgypEYNI/AAAAAAAAAR8/MUNIqmtRIAw/s1600-h/Baby+Peyton+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PhgypEYNI/AAAAAAAAAR8/MUNIqmtRIAw/s320/Baby+Peyton+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;This bundle of sweetness belongs to&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/06/final-straw.html"&gt;my beautiful cousin&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Isn't she absolutely precious, internet? My cousin and I are very close.&amp;nbsp; We are so close that if she didn't have a rockin' body...we would be twins.&amp;nbsp; We are a real life Jenny Craig before and after shot. &amp;nbsp; No joke.&amp;nbsp; So naturally, if her kids look like her, then they look like me.&amp;nbsp; I get really excited over this.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure why, but I do.&amp;nbsp; As cute as Baby Peyton is, I can't take any credit.&amp;nbsp; She looks just like her daddy....except for one thing that she gets from her Mommy and her Auntie Junket.&amp;nbsp; She has our goofy pinky.&amp;nbsp; It's a family trait and it comes from our grandfather.&amp;nbsp; She may have been born the day after we &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/three-little-birds.html"&gt;wanted her to be&lt;/a&gt;, but having this pinky finger makes up for it.&amp;nbsp; It's the little things in life that make you smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkWUGqUBI/AAAAAAAAASE/ZDrj6rFxlT0/s1600-h/Baby+Peyton+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkWUGqUBI/AAAAAAAAASE/ZDrj6rFxlT0/s320/Baby+Peyton+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkgdzXQzI/AAAAAAAAASM/I8M1viMQDU4/s1600-h/Baby+Junket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkgdzXQzI/AAAAAAAAASM/I8M1viMQDU4/s320/Baby+Junket.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkyNwS8jI/AAAAAAAAASU/ZzAV9LiSk-0/s1600-h/Baby+Peyton+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PkyNwS8jI/AAAAAAAAASU/ZzAV9LiSk-0/s320/Baby+Peyton+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-7055891286376704206?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/7055891286376704206/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=7055891286376704206&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/7055891286376704206?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/7055891286376704206?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/baby-peyton.html" title="Baby Peyton" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2PfQvIJnBI/AAAAAAAAAR0/EQIW-ZzTou8/s72-c/mother+goose+juice.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4CQnkzfyp7ImA9WxBXF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-5729964042348104355</id><published>2010-01-29T01:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T01:52:43.787-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-29T01:52:43.787-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Drunk Texts</title><content type="html">I just found a portion of my post, &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/12/booty-calls.html"&gt;Booty Calls&lt;/a&gt;, listed on another website called www.drunktext.net.&amp;nbsp; I'm not exactly sure how this website works but I think it trawls the internet for phrases like "drunk texting" or "you stupid moron, don't do a shot and then text your ex."&amp;nbsp; I can't figure out how it works but who cares?&amp;nbsp; I've made a fine mess of myself by drunk texting and such.&amp;nbsp; I consider this an honor of the highest esteem.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'd like to thank my exes for providing me with the anger and resentment to fire off retarded emails/texts that are so good that they last a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, I have to thank my &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/04/let-this-post-serve-as-warning-to-those.html"&gt;BFF&lt;/a&gt; for encouraging the texts that usually start off with a jagerbomb and the taunting line, "It'll be fun."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To Sister Potato Head... I freaking love your drunk texts so keep 'em coming.&amp;nbsp; Especially the misspelled ones.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To T-Mobile for giving me the freedom and the 3G network that allows me to ruin my reputation.&amp;nbsp; Where would I be without you? In a healthy relationship I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Above all else, I give thanks to God for blessing me with a smart mouth and the ability to wear my drink and my heart on my sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh...they're cutting me off.&amp;nbsp; I hear the orchestra so I have to make this quick.... www.drunktexts.com, if you're making a drunk texting app, I will gladly allow you to advertise on my blog.&amp;nbsp; I'll be your spokesperson - complete with testimonials.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jerry Maguire -My agent -&amp;nbsp; You are my ambassador of Kwan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-5729964042348104355?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/5729964042348104355/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=5729964042348104355&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5729964042348104355?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5729964042348104355?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/drunk-texts.html" title="Drunk Texts" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcARHg4cCp7ImA9WxBXF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-5721800428713196242</id><published>2010-01-27T23:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T18:07:25.638-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-28T18:07:25.638-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>I'll Give You Something to Watch</title><content type="html">I always wonder what it would feel like if someone put me in what they thought was my &lt;strike&gt;bookstore on the beach with a coconut full of jager&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp; natural habitat and then millions of people came by to watch my actions like a low-rated reality show.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Is she reading AGAIN?"&lt;br /&gt;
"That's like her 6th coconut and she's...well...I guess that's dancing."&lt;br /&gt;
"Who knew someone could like the song "Kokomo" so much?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Is she having a conversation with a moon jelly? WTF, mate?"&lt;br /&gt;
"Dude, I think she just told that spicy hummus that she is so in love with it that she would marry it and have it's spicy little hummus babies that will be part spicy, part Irish and part Polish.&amp;nbsp; It's a smartass with a low I.Q and a drinking problem." &lt;br /&gt;
"Let's watch The Tudors on Showtime instead of this bullshit."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I definitely don't think anyone wants to see me in my natural habitat which leads me to believe that animals aren't loving the habitats that they live in at the zoo.&amp;nbsp; I understand the zoo is important for many reasons and it gets the heroin-addicted giraffes off the street and stuff, but in my heart, I don't think they are happy.&amp;nbsp; Don't even get me started on how I feel about Sea World.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The thing is, sometimes you have a small child that begs you to go to the zoo.&amp;nbsp; You weigh the pros and cons of it and look into their cute little faces with big brown eyes and you say, "Ok, let's go see the &lt;strike&gt;empty shell of a soul&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strike&gt; sea lions and the lonely hippopotamus at the zoo.&amp;nbsp; I hope you ask me to buy you a $12 juice in a gorilla cup and a $14 photo of us on on the day I sold my soul to the devil.&amp;nbsp; Get in the car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2EP5oGhZ1I/AAAAAAAAARs/YipfoJRGsM4/s1600-h/2010-01-27+11.01.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2EP5oGhZ1I/AAAAAAAAARs/YipfoJRGsM4/s320/2010-01-27+11.01.02.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Then sometimes, you get to the zoo and something miraculous happens that makes you feel like you were meant to be there that day.&amp;nbsp; You didn't just go back on your convictions.&amp;nbsp; Fate brought you to this place and this time because you NEEDED to be a witness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: "I have an idea. Let's sit up here on these steps and have some lunch while we watch the chimpanzees."&lt;br /&gt;
Child: "These monkeys are really funny. They are so silly."&lt;br /&gt;
Me: "That they are, my friend.&amp;nbsp; I wonder what they........um&amp;nbsp; ......um..."&lt;br /&gt;
Child: "Junket? Is that monkey pooping into his hand?"&lt;br /&gt;
Me: "I....um....(holy shit)...um...I think he might be....doing....that."&lt;br /&gt;
Child: "Why is he pooping into his hand? What is he going to do?"&lt;br /&gt;
Me: "I hope he's going to throw it at the other chimpanzee sitting next to him."&lt;br /&gt;
Child: "Why would he throw his poop?&lt;br /&gt;
Me: "Don't worry, he's not going to throw it because he's EATING IT!"&lt;br /&gt;
All Together Now: "GROSSSSSS!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's take a second to digest this little scenario. The chimp was sitting on a high ledge with his ass to us.&amp;nbsp; He starts to take a shit right there in front of everyone and cups his little monkey hand under his ass to catch said shit.&amp;nbsp; If that wasn't bad enough, he looked at it and then put it in his mouth like a cigar and then walked around with it in his mouth like that for thirty minutes.&amp;nbsp; How do I know this? Because I sat there in awe and watched this for an additional thirty minutes. I couldn't even get up because I was laughing so hard.&amp;nbsp; I was actually snorting because I couldn't catch my breath.&amp;nbsp; Everyone else was grossed out and left - but not me.&amp;nbsp; I had to see more.&amp;nbsp; What kind of sick individual watches chimpanzees shit into their own hand and enjoys it?&amp;nbsp; This one. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I felt a kinship with the chimps today because if I was trapped in a "habitat" with people watching my every single move, I would do the same freaking thing.&amp;nbsp; Word to your mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-5721800428713196242?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/5721800428713196242/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=5721800428713196242&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5721800428713196242?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/5721800428713196242?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/ill-give-you-something-to-watch.html" title="I'll Give You Something to Watch" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S2EP5oGhZ1I/AAAAAAAAARs/YipfoJRGsM4/s72-c/2010-01-27+11.01.02.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQNRH44fSp7ImA9WxBXFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-3433123143022255527</id><published>2010-01-26T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T00:39:55.035-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-26T00:39:55.035-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Juicy Shout-Outs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>In Dog Years......</title><content type="html">My dog is &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/09/dropping-thirty-five.html"&gt;dropping thirty-five&lt;/a&gt; today.&amp;nbsp; We are officially the same age.&amp;nbsp; I can't believe I've kept him alive for this long.&amp;nbsp; I even remember to feed him every single day.&amp;nbsp; No one thought I'd be able to stick to the commitment of being a pet owner.&amp;nbsp; To all of you who thought that...suck on this.&amp;nbsp; My dog is awesome and partially human.&amp;nbsp; I mean, really?&amp;nbsp; How many dogs do you know that have favorite songs and can differentiate between them?&amp;nbsp; In honor of the fantastical beagle, I'm posting his very own playlist.&amp;nbsp; He also got some all natural, organic pupcakes today from a gourmet dog bakery at the Farmer's Market on Fairfax.&amp;nbsp; Juicy Shout-Out to the Three Dog Bakery for making the beagle's birthday a fun one.&amp;nbsp; I looked over at him after he ran off with his pupcake and said, "Damn, that dog likes to party...with two R's."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S157Kuii9dI/AAAAAAAAARk/avIGR0QOm5U/s1600-h/2010-01-25+20.14.24_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S157Kuii9dI/AAAAAAAAARk/avIGR0QOm5U/s320/2010-01-25+20.14.24_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You see that?&amp;nbsp; It's carrot cake for dogs.&amp;nbsp; It smells like carrot cake.&amp;nbsp; I may or may not have tasted it.&amp;nbsp; You would've done it so stop making that stank face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNjQ*ODQwMjQ2NzEmcHQ9MTI2NDQ4NDAzNDU1MyZwPTY5NDMwMSZkPSZnPTEmbz*wZjE3YjJkYzI*MTg*OGY*ODlh/OTJhN2Y*YzU1NTY2YSZvZj*w.gif" style="height: 0px; visibility: hidden; width: 0px;" width="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; visibility: visible; width: 450px;"&gt;&lt;object height="270" width="435"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.musiclist.us/mc/mp3player_new.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.indimusic.us%2Fext%2Fpc%2Fconfig_regular_noautostart.xml&amp;amp;mywidth=435&amp;amp;myheight=270&amp;amp;playlist_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.musiclist.us%2Fpl.php%3Fplaylist%3D74518389%26t%3D1264484022&amp;amp;wid=os"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed style="width:435px; visibility:visible; height:270px;" allowScriptAccess="never" src="http://www.musiclist.us/mc/mp3player_new.swf" flashvars="config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.indimusic.us%2Fext%2Fpc%2Fconfig_regular_noautostart.xml&amp;amp;mywidth=435&amp;amp;myheight=270&amp;amp;playlist_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.musiclist.us%2Fpl.php%3Fplaylist%3D74518389%26t%3D1264484022&amp;amp;wid=os" width="435" height="270" name="mp3player" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" border="0"/&gt; &lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.musiclist.us/"&gt;&lt;img alt="Get a playlist!" border="0" src="http://www.musiclist.us/mc/images/create_gray.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.musiclist.us/playlist/19076707595/standalone" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Standalone player" border="0" src="http://www.musiclist.us/mc/images/launch_gray.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.musiclist.us/playlist/19076707595/download"&gt;&lt;img alt="Get Ringtones" border="0" src="http://www.musiclist.us/mc/images/get_gray.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-3433123143022255527?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/3433123143022255527/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=3433123143022255527&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3433123143022255527?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3433123143022255527?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/in-dog-years.html" title="In Dog Years......" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S157Kuii9dI/AAAAAAAAARk/avIGR0QOm5U/s72-c/2010-01-25+20.14.24_San+Fernando+Valley_California_US.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUADQXc6eyp7ImA9WxBXFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-794309851061395741</id><published>2010-01-25T02:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T02:16:10.913-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-25T02:16:10.913-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Best Missed Connection Ever</title><content type="html">I'm sorry, but this is without a doubt the best thing I've ever seen on Craigslist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h2&gt;You farted in Trader Joes - m4w - 35 &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;hr /&gt; Date: 2010-01-19, 10:17AM EST&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;   &lt;form action="/reply/1559944137" id="reply" method="GET"&gt;    &lt;button type="submit" value="Reply To This Post"&gt;Reply To This Post&lt;/button&gt;   &lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;hr /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
You were the tall brunette with the near perfect body that farted in the bread section last night. I was the tall guy next to you that looked over and asked, "Was that you?" you quickly replied, "No, wasn't me!" You almost seemed insulted I would ask. As the stink grew you continued to deny your flatulence, but it was evident. I tried to get rid of the stench by waving 2 loaves of Ciabatta bread. You proceeded to storm off in an angry manner. You are beautiful and even if you are a liar and fart like a great dane, I'd love to meet up sometime.&lt;!-- START CLTAGS --&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-794309851061395741?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/794309851061395741/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=794309851061395741&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/794309851061395741?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/794309851061395741?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/best-missed-connection-ever.html" title="Best Missed Connection Ever" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cHRHs5fCp7ImA9WxBXE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-143609620221432896</id><published>2010-01-24T03:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T03:17:15.524-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-24T03:17:15.524-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Internet Love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Mullets and Mayonnaise</title><content type="html">In honor of my friend who is a Minnesota Vikings fan and is ready to watch the showdown with the Saints today, I am posting this video that he shared with me.&amp;nbsp; Sister Potato Head, on the other hand, is a die-hard Saints fan (even after &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/how-to-eat-your-way-across-country-like.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; incident.) So all I have to say to the both of you is...um...Go Bucs!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;object height="360" width="580"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L2r49EMRvkw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999&amp;border=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/L2r49EMRvkw&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Besides being pretty funny, how can you not like a video that starts with the sentence, "69? That's just the beginning of my story."&amp;nbsp; Am I perverted? Hell yeah I am.&amp;nbsp; Thanks Jared Allen for bringing out the best in me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-143609620221432896?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2r49EMRvkw" title="Mullets and Mayonnaise" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/143609620221432896/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=143609620221432896&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/143609620221432896?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/143609620221432896?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/mullets-and-mayonnaise.html" title="Mullets and Mayonnaise" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QMSHYyfCp7ImA9WxBXEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-600993578675554126</id><published>2010-01-22T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T17:29:49.894-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-22T17:29:49.894-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mother Goose Juice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Juicy Shout-Outs" /><title>Three Little Birds</title><content type="html">Remember my &lt;a href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2009/06/final-straw.html"&gt;cousin&lt;/a&gt;?&amp;nbsp; You know..the one who already has three kids and yet got pregnant on accident while I was trying and failing?&amp;nbsp; Yeah, that one.&amp;nbsp; I love her so much that it hurts.&amp;nbsp; She is one of my most favorite people in the whole world and possibly the closest person in my family.&amp;nbsp; Even though the hooker got pregnant and rubbed it in my face, I love her anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
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She is about to give birth at any given moment.&amp;nbsp; I'm pushing for the 23rd because that is the day our grandfather died.&amp;nbsp; I think it would be very special for my new god daughter to be born on this day.&amp;nbsp; As of yesterday she is 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced.&amp;nbsp; I hate that I'm not there with her.&amp;nbsp; I held her hand and cut the cord for her last child and I really wanted to be there for this one too.&amp;nbsp; I've photographed the birth of all three of her children (my awesome god children) and I wish I could do it for this one too.&amp;nbsp; As a matter of fact, her water broke IN MY CAR for the last one and my favorite line of any woman in labor EVER came from her:&amp;nbsp; "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK. (breath) Does my hair look okay?"&amp;nbsp; Oh God, how can I be missing this???&lt;br /&gt;
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Not that it makes up for it, but I found my newest little god daughter the most amazing going home outfit in all the land.&amp;nbsp; I have never- and I mean never- been so excited to stumble across this piece of baby couture.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S1ojl2X62zI/AAAAAAAAARU/dL361hfG8_o/s1600-h/2010-01-17+11.25.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S1ojl2X62zI/AAAAAAAAARU/dL361hfG8_o/s320/2010-01-17+11.25.01.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Behold the Awesomeness&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I am a huge Bob Marley fan.&amp;nbsp; I don't know if the baby is, but if I have anything to do with it she'll be reciting his tunes like nursery rhymes.&amp;nbsp; Tell me this outfit doesn't make you happy?&amp;nbsp; I think I jumped up and down a little when I saw it.&amp;nbsp; Speaking of which, I found it at this great little boutique in Santa Monica near the Farmer's Market.&amp;nbsp; For the life of me, I can't find the card but as soon as I do, I will come back and give you all the details in case you're local or if you want to order it online.&amp;nbsp; What the hell did I do with that card?&amp;nbsp; It's probably with the card for my new hot-as-hell hairdresser that I'm going to blog about soon.&amp;nbsp; Stand by for that one!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S1omFboDPoI/AAAAAAAAARc/l-TIhpJwssw/s1600-h/2010-01-17+11.26.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S1omFboDPoI/AAAAAAAAARc/l-TIhpJwssw/s320/2010-01-17+11.26.58.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So, keep your fingers crossed that my new little bundle of love will make her appearance on the 23rd.&amp;nbsp; I'll post the pictures of her royal cuteness as soon as I get them.&amp;nbsp; I absolutely can't wait!! &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-600993578675554126?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/600993578675554126/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=600993578675554126&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/600993578675554126?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/600993578675554126?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/three-little-birds.html" title="Three Little Birds" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bycdIu79QJ4/S1ojl2X62zI/AAAAAAAAARU/dL361hfG8_o/s72-c/2010-01-17+11.25.01.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQHSH05eip7ImA9WxBXEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4232759808693339889.post-3032673171948544402</id><published>2010-01-21T10:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T10:22:19.322-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-21T10:22:19.322-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Nonsense" /><title>Snap, Crackle and Oh My God Pop</title><content type="html">It was bound to happen.&amp;nbsp; I have contracted the deadly head cold from a small child sneezing into my face.&amp;nbsp; The rain doesn't help.&amp;nbsp; Last night while I laid in bed listening to the silence, I realized a very important thing.&lt;br /&gt;
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My breathing sounds like a bowl of Rice Krispies.&lt;br /&gt;
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Should I be concerned?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4232759808693339889-3032673171948544402?l=www.junketjuice.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/feeds/3032673171948544402/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4232759808693339889&amp;postID=3032673171948544402&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3032673171948544402?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4232759808693339889/posts/default/3032673171948544402?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.junketjuice.com/2010/01/snap-crackle-and-oh-my-god-pop.html" title="Snap, Crackle and Oh My God Pop" /><author><name>Junket</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15690901791581429362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="02009238485502950545" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry></feed>
