<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8BQX0_cCp7ImA9WhRQEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990</id><updated>2011-12-05T22:07:30.348-05:00</updated><category term="childhood" /><category term="philly" /><category term="education" /><category term="technology" /><category term="daily life" /><category term="songs" /><category term="autobiographical" /><category term="news" /><category term="vacation" /><category term="movies" /><category term="sex/dating" /><category term="books" /><category term="politics" /><category term="shopping" /><category term="college" /><category term="parody" /><category term="GreatDateExperiment" /><category term="medical" /><category term="summer" /><category term="travel" /><category term="dreams" /><category term="slang" /><category term="holidays" /><category term="just joe" /><category term="history" /><category term="sports" /><category term="religion" /><category term="pop culture" /><category term="podcasts" /><category term="tales of drunken woe" /><category term="valentines_day" /><category term="onion-like" /><category term="mlb" /><category term="fiction" /><category term="work" /><category term="poems" /><title>paper beats rock</title><subtitle type="html">&lt;i&gt;this is how my brain works. i apologize.&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>117</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/paperbeatsrock" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="paperbeatsrock" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:feedFlare xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" href="http://add.my.yahoo.com/rss?url=http%3A%2F%2Ffeeds.feedburner.com%2Fpaperbeatsrock" src="http://us.i1.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/i/us/my/addtomyyahoo4.gif">Subscribe with My Yahoo!</feedburner:feedFlare><feedburner:feedFlare xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" href="http://fusion.google.com/add?feedurl=http%3A%2F%2Ffeeds.feedburner.com%2Fpaperbeatsrock" src="http://buttons.googlesyndication.com/fusion/add.gif">Subscribe with Google</feedburner:feedFlare><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUASH09cSp7ImA9WhRTEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8524408896423816976</id><published>2011-10-15T10:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T19:40:49.369-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-02T19:40:49.369-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><title>Organizational Chaos Explained - Poorly</title><content type="html">Many have expressed confusion, concern and apathy towards the events surrounding my alleged first day of work. I say "alleged" because I have done such a fine job of blocking out the emotional trauma that I now refuse to believe it actually happened.


But in the days since, I have come to better understand the type of environment where such a clusterhug is possible. It doesn't explain why a...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=8Rw9AiALMBA:DbN0ZqSq3-o:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=8Rw9AiALMBA:DbN0ZqSq3-o:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8524408896423816976/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/10/organizational-chaos-explained-poorly.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8524408896423816976?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8524408896423816976?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/10/organizational-chaos-explained-poorly.html" title="Organizational Chaos Explained - Poorly" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-8qxnxeUTgcw/ToOaZYwVB2I/AAAAAAAAGW8/ay1inB3kFPo/s72-c/corp.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUNQXY9eSp7ImA9WhdWGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-5112900068603037453</id><published>2011-09-11T20:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T19:41:30.861-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-13T19:41:30.861-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mlb" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel" /><title>Dodger Stadium</title><content type="html">Part of my cross-country tour of baseball stadiums. An experience I am calling 'The Baseball Diaries'.



The day started at 5am in San Francisco, finding us casually preparing for our 7am flight and thinking aloud,"How busy could a major airport be at this time of day?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question but Fate decided to amuse herself by giving us an answer. We learned that answer when...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=_fFPfQJ1FNk:xJNpMwQH-Aw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=_fFPfQJ1FNk:xJNpMwQH-Aw:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/5112900068603037453/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/09/dodger-stadium.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/5112900068603037453?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/5112900068603037453?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/09/dodger-stadium.html" title="Dodger Stadium" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6tlJAQGwqBY/Tm1NKZmoACI/AAAAAAAAGWI/hpH2w-KgPfI/s72-c/dodgers.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BQX05eCp7ImA9WhdbF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-9171563034238159451</id><published>2011-08-16T17:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T12:19:10.320-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-16T12:19:10.320-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><title>First Day at Work (Maybe)</title><content type="html">Yesterday I started a new job. I think.


The reason I say "I think" is because I received a job offer in verbal, electronic and written forms, accepted said offers and subsequently quit my previous job - and yet no one in my new organization seems to know why I am there.


The job I think I have is working in the Information Services department for a university hospital. Actually, it's a bit...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=UaaaNsZd3Mc:Ng3fDTvgLm0:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=UaaaNsZd3Mc:Ng3fDTvgLm0:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/9171563034238159451/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-day-at-work-maybe.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/9171563034238159451?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/9171563034238159451?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-day-at-work-maybe.html" title="First Day at Work (Maybe)" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9mZ81zHyG28/Tn0VITxmVBI/AAAAAAAAGWY/8eXhF3nY7GI/s72-c/cubicles.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYCRHk9eCp7ImA9WhZUFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-7816522315542554558</id><published>2011-06-08T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T22:22:45.760-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-08T22:22:45.760-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>This Used to Be My Playground</title><content type="html">Everyone has a favorite place. A pub or a restaurant that you're always in the mood for. A place where you and your friends always have a good time. It's "your" place. The food isn't the best but it suits you just fine. You have sincere conversations with the wait staff and probably know a few of their family members' names. You're one of the regulars and even if you rarely talk to the other...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=OUfKlR_IWG0:ckHh5dF9Itg:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=OUfKlR_IWG0:ckHh5dF9Itg:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7816522315542554558/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-used-to-be-my-playground.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7816522315542554558?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7816522315542554558?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-used-to-be-my-playground.html" title="This Used to Be My Playground" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04CR3s_fSp7ImA9WhdXFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6197433344459068427</id><published>2011-05-22T00:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T18:12:46.545-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T18:12:46.545-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="religion" /><title>Judgement Day</title><content type="html">According to reputable source The Internet, the Christian Bible foretells that Judgement Day was to occur precisely on May 21, 2011, Earth. This is to be followed by the resurrection of the dead, destruction of the world, yada yada, the undoing of existence, etc.


For those of you who don't recall, Judgement Day begins with The Rapture, the moment Jesus returns to pick out his favorites to join...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=3W5EsItU_O0:tlW4PkRf7-U:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=3W5EsItU_O0:tlW4PkRf7-U:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6197433344459068427/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/05/judgement-day.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6197433344459068427?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6197433344459068427?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/05/judgement-day.html" title="Judgement Day" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4BRnY8fyp7ImA9WhZSE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-5792127959027518785</id><published>2011-03-21T15:21:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T21:59:17.877-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-28T21:59:17.877-04:00</app:edited><title>RIP TWSS</title><content type="html">"That's What She Said" has got to go. I'm sick of it. Every time I hear it, I think "Really? We're still doing this?" It just won't go away.

In no particular order, my reasons being...
This phrase can be applied to 78% of all statements. All you're saying is "What you just said may also be interpreted as having a sexual connotation. But I don't know the phrase 'double entendre' so I'm going with...&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=gh59Z_PJo94:c1YD6HpTPlw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=gh59Z_PJo94:c1YD6HpTPlw:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/5792127959027518785/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/03/rip-twss.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/5792127959027518785?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/5792127959027518785?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/03/rip-twss.html" title="RIP TWSS" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAMQX09fSp7ImA9WhZSEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4366963535234730649</id><published>2011-03-16T21:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T23:06:20.365-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-25T23:06:20.365-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vacation" /><title>Doing Lines</title><content type="html">It's not about drugs so keep on moving, Maynard G. Krebs.


Any culture can be defined by how their citizens behaves while standing in lines.


The English, not surprisingly, have a formal word for "queueing up" and their execution is just as ordered and civil as you would expect from any Brit.


The French, as a rule, do not believe in lines. They see a number of people standing in a linear...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=q-6CS_yBz24:JXCwKDyCHW4:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=q-6CS_yBz24:JXCwKDyCHW4:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4366963535234730649/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/03/doing-lines.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4366963535234730649?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4366963535234730649?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/03/doing-lines.html" title="Doing Lines" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYMQXs-fip7ImA9Wx9UE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-378685145974466567</id><published>2011-02-09T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T22:56:20.556-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-09T22:56:20.556-05:00</app:edited><title>Is it Clever to Title Blog Posts as a Question?</title><content type="html">No.&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=AsUQrW8kVCs:yZ-mx1ngYEA:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=AsUQrW8kVCs:yZ-mx1ngYEA:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/378685145974466567/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/02/is-it-clever-to-title-blog-posts-as.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/378685145974466567?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/378685145974466567?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/02/is-it-clever-to-title-blog-posts-as.html" title="Is it Clever to Title Blog Posts as a Question?" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8AR386eip7ImA9Wx9XFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8568214741910090263</id><published>2011-01-07T04:15:00.042-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T21:30:46.112-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-07T21:30:46.112-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - The End / Random Quotes</title><content type="html">And so we come to the final entry in this series.  I thought I would end it by sharing some of the more bizarre quotes I've heard during this little experiment. Mostly because I'm lazy and couldn't figure out a way to stretch them into full length posts. Yes, I'm quite the catch.


These are all excerpts from some of my recent dates. Quotes are always funnier when taken out of context. In the...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=cR7v1WbMrk0:cZIZyxFwR6s:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=cR7v1WbMrk0:cZIZyxFwR6s:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8568214741910090263/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/01/great-date-experiment-end-random-quotes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8568214741910090263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8568214741910090263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2011/01/great-date-experiment-end-random-quotes.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - The End / Random Quotes" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4EQXs9fyp7ImA9Wx9QF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-2633971391561948637</id><published>2010-12-31T04:15:00.176-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T04:15:00.567-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-31T04:15:00.567-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - A New Dysfunction</title><content type="html">Oh Erica.


Like many of my strongest relationships, we bonded over discussing awkward encounters we'd had during the day for insight on whether we acted in accordance with social norms. But somehow the cathartic venting would always turn into an intense make-out session. Upon brief analysis, it's slightly bizarre. But with the proper marketing spin, I can simply label the experience as my brief...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZWsKge676q4:jSRTcVG8p-0:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZWsKge676q4:jSRTcVG8p-0:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2633971391561948637/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-new-dysfunction.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2633971391561948637?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2633971391561948637?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-new-dysfunction.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - A New Dysfunction" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYEQXs7fSp7ImA9Wx9QEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-7720674008725920844</id><published>2010-12-24T04:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T04:15:00.505-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-24T04:15:00.505-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Ulterior Motives</title><content type="html">My friends have often called me "cynical" or "pessimistic." But that's only because everyone is always out to get you all the time. Oh yeah - they also say I'm "paranoid."


But sometimes even I can make lemonade. When the whole serial dating process started to seem fruitless, I kept at it. If I couldn't find love, there were other benefits to enjoy. No, not those benefits. I'm talking about more...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=BPB8e9CQL-U:x_Z5rFU0K58:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=BPB8e9CQL-U:x_Z5rFU0K58:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7720674008725920844/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-ulterior-motives.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7720674008725920844?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7720674008725920844?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-ulterior-motives.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - Ulterior Motives" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YNRnY_cSp7ImA9Wx9RGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6687033432235082927</id><published>2010-12-17T04:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-19T21:13:17.849-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-19T21:13:17.849-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - High Standards</title><content type="html">I'm not sure why, but friends become fascinated with your dating life the minute they find out you're in the online dating racket. Especially the married friends. So get used to all of your friends circling round, eager with curiosity and questions every time you see them. In my experience, the conversations usually ends with someone declaring one of the following:

 "Don't worry man. She sounds...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=DWTwiVMYCP8:gmCz4mVy9RI:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=DWTwiVMYCP8:gmCz4mVy9RI:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6687033432235082927/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-high-standards.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6687033432235082927?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6687033432235082927?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-high-standards.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - High Standards" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIEQXo5fip7ImA9Wx9SGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8550660912371731112</id><published>2010-12-10T04:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T04:15:00.426-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-10T04:15:00.426-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Not A Compliment</title><content type="html">Sometimes, a woman just knows how to cut to the core of you.

Gina: This is good wine. Actually, you're a lot like wine.

Joe: Because I'm sweet and one serving a day is good for you?

Gina: No. I was thinking more like... a little bitter... takes a while to get used to... and too much gives me a headache.

Joe: I think I love you.&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=PGokpER4KlE:NOl3jrh8xDg:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=PGokpER4KlE:NOl3jrh8xDg:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8550660912371731112/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-not-compliment.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8550660912371731112?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8550660912371731112?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-not-compliment.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - Not A Compliment" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAEQXwzfSp7ImA9Wx9SE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-2629915911519916076</id><published>2010-12-03T04:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T04:15:00.285-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-03T04:15:00.285-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Mistaken Identity</title><content type="html">The first time we went out, it was over in less than an hour. So I was surprised when she texted me later that night, seemingly eager to go out for a second date.


Since she seemed pretty distant and uninterested the first time we met, I really wasn't sure what to expect.


Missy: Oh. Hey... you? What are you doing here?

Joe: Um... For us to hang out? Dinner?

Missy: Oh Shit. Wrong Joe. I...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=zB-ZurqRW7Y:T-0ZweMVF6g:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=zB-ZurqRW7Y:T-0ZweMVF6g:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2629915911519916076/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-mistaken-identity.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2629915911519916076?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2629915911519916076?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-date-experiment-mistaken-identity.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - Mistaken Identity" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4FRHk4eyp7ImA9Wx9SFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4038961085609407487</id><published>2010-11-26T04:15:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T22:48:35.733-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-04T22:48:35.733-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Early Termination</title><content type="html">ring.... ring...

Billie Jean: Oh hey! What's up?

Joe: Oh not much...

Billie Jean: So, are we hanging out this weekend?

Joe: Um... yeah. No. I'm calling to let you know that I don't think it's going to work out. Like, us hanging out and stuff.

Billie Jean: What.

Joe: Well... you know. I had a good time and stuff but I just don't think... you know.

Billie Jean: Why would you call me to tell...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ylJkfw4V0Mc:wxk-mRl9Ii4:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ylJkfw4V0Mc:wxk-mRl9Ii4:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4038961085609407487/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-early-termination.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4038961085609407487?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4038961085609407487?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-early-termination.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - Early Termination" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UDQHY_eip7ImA9WhZXF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4320634943252334104</id><published>2010-11-19T04:15:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T15:07:51.842-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-07T15:07:51.842-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Taking a Dive</title><content type="html">At some point during a blind date, both parties will silently decide whether or not they ever want to see the other person again. But this is not a dating game show, there is no giant red button marked "Next!", nor is it socially acceptable to get up and walk away in the middle of conversation. So one must see the encounter through to its conclusion.


In order to accelerate toward that...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=QG80B8p4_HU:b_9i1tFNL0k:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=QG80B8p4_HU:b_9i1tFNL0k:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4320634943252334104/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-taking-dive.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4320634943252334104?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4320634943252334104?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-taking-dive.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - Taking a Dive" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQEQXg7cSp7ImA9Wx5aFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-742999821861135490</id><published>2010-11-12T04:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T04:15:00.609-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-12T04:15:00.609-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - The Trick Question</title><content type="html">"So... are you looking for a serious relationship or just trying to have some fun?"


Shit. Point of no return. The honest answer is "Yes." My experience is that one will inevitably lead to the other. But what is the right answer today? She didn't seem too judgmental on the sleeping around option. But the word "just" is a little dismissive. Let's try ambiguity.


"Look, I can tell by now that...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=nrFPJiMBvuU:x1ThbJCZA80:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=nrFPJiMBvuU:x1ThbJCZA80:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/742999821861135490/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-trick-question.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/742999821861135490?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/742999821861135490?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-trick-question.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - The Trick Question" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4EQX0zcSp7ImA9Wx5bGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8498452403411357652</id><published>2010-11-05T04:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T04:15:00.389-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-05T04:15:00.389-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - The Distraction</title><content type="html">There are so many variables that play into how a date will turn out. It's even harder when other people interfere.


Throughout the dinner, I noticed a very attractive girl from another table. She was constantly staring at me and whispering to her friends. She was gorgeous, which it made it pretty difficult to focus on my date.


Later in the evening, I excused myself to use the restroom and as I...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=BzASMvHO3q4:7MGwxgDrkQc:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=BzASMvHO3q4:7MGwxgDrkQc:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8498452403411357652/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-distraction.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8498452403411357652?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8498452403411357652?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/11/great-date-experiment-distraction.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - The Distraction" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYEQXY7eip7ImA9Wx5bE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-7440125744808194254</id><published>2010-10-29T04:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T04:15:00.802-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-29T04:15:00.802-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - "What Else?"</title><content type="html">Elsa wasn't very good at conversation. Not that she was shy or quiet or reserved. She was actually pretty interesting. But I felt like I wasn't part of the conversation. She never asked me about myself or gave me a chance to respond to what she'd said. Whenever she was done talking she would immediately say, "What else?"


About 20 minutes in, she asks me, "Do you have any plans...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=p5iNIWVWf-M:WdiQGMcdo1w:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=p5iNIWVWf-M:WdiQGMcdo1w:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7440125744808194254/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-what-else.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7440125744808194254?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7440125744808194254?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-what-else.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - &quot;What Else?&quot;" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUEQX08fyp7ImA9Wx5bEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-3990150645172444525</id><published>2010-10-25T20:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T20:50:00.377-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-25T20:50:00.377-04:00</app:edited><title>High School Reunion</title><content type="html">The 7 Stages of Reunion Fever

Ignorance - "Another reunion? Didn't we just have one of those like 4 or 5 years ago?"
Apathy - "What do I care what those people have done with their lives?"
Curiosity - "I wonder what those people have done with their lives..."
Panic - "Shit. I haven't done anything with my life."
Optimism - "It's an open bar."
Denial - "I have no interest in trying to impress...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZH9nnSgggU0:hzcDeijIFSc:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZH9nnSgggU0:hzcDeijIFSc:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3990150645172444525/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/high-school-reunion.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3990150645172444525?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3990150645172444525?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/high-school-reunion.html" title="High School Reunion" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QEQXs5cSp7ImA9Wx5UF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6045377357953643424</id><published>2010-10-22T04:15:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T04:15:00.529-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-22T04:15:00.529-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - The Handoff</title><content type="html">First dates are awkward by definition. But there are always a few surprises along the way...


Girl: "... That is so funny. My friend Janice loves weird stuff like that. You two would totally get along. I should give you her number."


Wait. Is this girl setting me up with her friend? At the start of the night I would have said that the worst thing that could happen on a first date is that it...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ltm9CcY1wYE:LLdW4FCzJOE:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ltm9CcY1wYE:LLdW4FCzJOE:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6045377357953643424/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-handoff.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6045377357953643424?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6045377357953643424?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-handoff.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - The Handoff" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIEQH0ycSp7ImA9Wx5UEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-202046930847155538</id><published>2010-10-15T04:15:00.022-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T04:15:01.399-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-15T04:15:01.399-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - The Redirect</title><content type="html">Making plans can be frustrating and confusing. Especially when someone initiates with an effortless "Wanna hang?" and then redirects every decision back to me so I end up making all the plans. That's supposed to be my trick!


The following conversation took place via text message. As always, the part of Clueless Male will be played by yours truly.

Girl: Hey. Want to get together this...&lt;br/&gt;
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(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZprVu6Egm4E:9WenSYw84Jc:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=ZprVu6Egm4E:9WenSYw84Jc:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/202046930847155538/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-redirect.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/202046930847155538?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/202046930847155538?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-redirect.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - The Redirect" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGQX8_eCp7ImA9Wx5VFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-1526001022393882054</id><published>2010-10-08T04:15:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T18:47:00.140-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-08T18:47:00.140-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - No Answer</title><content type="html">Online dating has confusion built in to the process. You contact someone. She writes back. You write back. You never hear from her again. Was it something I said? Is she on vacation? Did she witness an especially heinous crime and is now in the witness relocation program? I usually assume that one.


I'd gone back and forth about 5 times with one girl and things were progressing pretty well. And...&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=_YUMm33xnjM:WTCIeh_Bh18:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=_YUMm33xnjM:WTCIeh_Bh18:qj6IDK7rITs"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?d=qj6IDK7rITs" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1526001022393882054/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-no-answer.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1526001022393882054?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1526001022393882054?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-date-experiment-no-answer.html" title="The Great Date Experiment - No Answer" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3V2eN9ydIo/Tr0o41fSxgI/AAAAAAAAGYk/rUpuMSNep10/s220/madmen_face.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEESHY4eyp7ImA9Wx5UE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-1123742243169874669</id><published>2010-10-01T04:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T21:50:09.833-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-17T21:50:09.833-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="GreatDateExperiment" /><title>The Great Date Experiment - Too Late For Indecision</title><content type="html">If you've never done online dating - even if you're currently seeing someone - I suggest signing up. The website itself provides plenty of entertainment without ever going on a single date.


Here is an excerpt from an actual profile:

Married: No

Have kids: Yes, they live at home.

Want kids: Not sure



Isn't it a little late to still be indecisive about that?




Here is one of the emails I...&lt;br/&gt;
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In celebration of me, The Ting Tings personally sent me birthday wishes last year - cleverly disguised as a kid's TV show performance. Hidden message received. Love you guys,...&lt;br/&gt;
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