<?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" gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUDQ34_eSp7ImA9WxNUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990</id><updated>2009-11-04T12:04:32.041-05:00</updated><title>paper beats rock</title><subtitle type="html">&lt;i&gt;"i love it when you talk nerdy to me"&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="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.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>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>91</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/paperbeatsrock" type="application/atom+xml" /><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><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUER3w-fip7ImA9WxJUEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6516652318842269965</id><published>2009-07-10T08:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T08:00:06.256-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-10T08:00:06.256-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies" /><title>You're Gonna Love the Movie 'Invincible'</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6516652318842269965/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/youre-gonna-love-movie-invincible.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6516652318842269965?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6516652318842269965?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/youre-gonna-love-movie-invincible.html" title="You're Gonna Love the Movie '&lt;i&gt;Invincible&lt;/i&gt;'" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">Hey! We've got this great movie you're gonna love. It's called 'Invincible'.

Cool. What's it about?

It's the story of an underdog from Philadelphia who overcomes the odds to achieve greatness.

Oh, like Rocky? Did they make another one of those movies?

No. This isn't a 'Rocky' movie. It's about a guy who is told that he is too old to play in the pros. But he works hard, overcomes some tough &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=7SWyG2DYE3k:Gg5Wky98vVM: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=7SWyG2DYE3k:Gg5Wky98vVM: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IDRno-cSp7ImA9WxJVFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4926115368349931562</id><published>2009-07-03T16:11:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T21:06:17.459-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-03T21:06:17.459-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autobiographical" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>Because I'm Not Cool Enough to Understand Twitter</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4926115368349931562/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-im-not-cool-enough-to.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4926115368349931562?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4926115368349931562?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-im-not-cool-enough-to.html" title="Because I'm Not Cool Enough to Understand Twitter" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">This is what I have been up to..

Sweet Dreams are Made of This
I had a dream that I met Tina Fey. I was so nervous, the only thing I could think to say was, "Uh... Do you want to go to a Coldplay concert some time?" Even in my dreams, I am the least smooth motherfucker on the planet. In case you're wondering, she told me she didn't like me like that.


Medical Mysteries
I had a doctor actually &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=8KiG0NoqXJ4:aqCZNnzVS3o: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=8KiG0NoqXJ4:aqCZNnzVS3o: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEFQnY-fip7ImA9WxJVFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-3721056573254838285</id><published>2009-04-01T01:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T16:23:33.856-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-03T16:23:33.856-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="technology" /><title>Instant Tech Support</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3721056573254838285/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/instant-computer-solutions.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3721056573254838285?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3721056573254838285?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/instant-computer-solutions.html" title="Instant Tech Support" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">Super Duper Okey-Dokey Instant Computering Solution

love,
joey&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=8lajLJAl9q4:lLh05J3fKmI: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=8lajLJAl9q4:lLh05J3fKmI: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IDRXozfip7ImA9WxVSE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-7967239715775911093</id><published>2009-01-02T14:48:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T14:12:54.486-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-07T14:12:54.486-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="technology" /><title>Google This</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7967239715775911093/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/01/google-this.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7967239715775911093?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7967239715775911093?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2009/01/google-this.html" title="Google This" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><content type="html">On any given day, my brain will attempt to either make or recognize no less than 793 pop cultural references. I rarely know where the reference is from, just that I've seen or heard it someplace before. On a good day, I can nail the source of about 42 of them. Does that mean I often reference things without a clue where they came from or what I'm talking about? Most of the time, mon ami.

What &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=xZUhQsW7Ozg:ILfceXawbPk: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=xZUhQsW7Ozg:ILfceXawbPk: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcFQHc_eyp7ImA9WxJVFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-278224262187392956</id><published>2008-09-28T22:14:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T16:30:11.943-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-03T16:30:11.943-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="onion-like" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>This Article Rife With Poor Journalistic Practices</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/278224262187392956/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-article-rife-with-poor.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/278224262187392956?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/278224262187392956?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-article-rife-with-poor.html" title="This Article Rife With Poor Journalistic Practices" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/SH-cq3k1OlI/AAAAAAAADSw/mRz0XDiF43E/s72-c/fire_hole.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">Includes Sex, Drugs, Murder and Weight-Loss Tips

Despite this author's reputation for responsible journalism and professional integrity, this piece has somehow slipped by editors and fact checkers, painting a blemish on an honorable past dating back to my first cover story for TIME magazine in 1939.

Speaking from his 4 acre ranch in downtown Manhattan, the School of Journalism Dean at Chicago &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=lkQi883u-M8:tvxbWQFrwF8: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=lkQi883u-M8:tvxbWQFrwF8: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXk9fip7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-3400190270741900056</id><published>2008-08-15T16:14:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.766-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.766-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex/dating" /><title>Love on the Internet</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3400190270741900056/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-on-internet.html#comment-form" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3400190270741900056?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3400190270741900056?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-on-internet.html" title="Love on the Internet" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total><content type="html">Let's make up a story. Supposin a guy - could be any guy - he comes home one day. He's feeling particularly bored, maybe even a little down. He's got nothing to do, but his friends are busy and the thought of a night of watching TV isn't doing much for his morale.

Reluctantly, he turns on the television and, as usual, there ain't much to be seen. Just when he's about to give up, an old, &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=qidNetdvE-M:XHyXKznhi3c: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=qidNetdvE-M:XHyXKznhi3c: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXk9cSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-565607309227375362</id><published>2008-07-15T14:00:00.029-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.769-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.769-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>Drugs is Bad</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/565607309227375362/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/07/drugs-is-bad.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/565607309227375362?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/565607309227375362?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/07/drugs-is-bad.html" title="Drugs is Bad" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><content type="html">So I had intended to take a relaxation-inducing Xanax pill the other day at work. But instead, I mistakenly swallowed a coma-inducing Ambien sleep-aid pill. The thing is, I didn't realize it until some 4 hours later - making the interim somewhat entertaining.

I took the pill around 2 o'clock (because it is impossible to keep me in one place for more than 5 hours without the use of medication). &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=lj7Fi5tPPQ8:w2y95_1BdX8: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=lj7Fi5tPPQ8:w2y95_1BdX8: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXk8eip7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-1955792607153121668</id><published>2008-05-26T10:55:00.039-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.772-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.772-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="podcasts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex/dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>The PickUp Artist</title><link rel="enclosure" type="audio/mpeg" href="http://joesaunders.googlepages.com/pickupartist.mp3" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1955792607153121668/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/05/pickup-artist.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1955792607153121668?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1955792607153121668?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/05/pickup-artist.html" title="The PickUp Artist" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/SD81b_g1yZI/AAAAAAAADPg/O17-h9rSLPc/s72-c/podcast.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><content type="html">*update: download theaudio version of this post

Hi. I'm Joe. What's your name?
---

Really. Blair? Like on The Facts of Life? Is Tootie around here?
---

The Facts of Life? It's just some show from the 80s. George Clooney was on it. Never mind. What year were you born anyway?
---

Just because you didn't know that show. What were you born in the 90s or something?
---

No, I didn't mean it like &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=5YimXxWhyFY:Ar4kOQuXo6I: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=5YimXxWhyFY:Ar4kOQuXo6I: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXk8fSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-1134954575101018527</id><published>2008-04-02T20:14:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.775-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.775-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autobiographical" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><title>The Day My Legs Got a Man Fired</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/1134954575101018527/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-my-legs-got-man-fired.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1134954575101018527?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/1134954575101018527?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-my-legs-got-man-fired.html" title="The Day My Legs Got a Man Fired" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><content type="html">TRUE STORY: For no specific reason, I got to work early today (9:45am). As I approached my workstation, I noticed that my office neighbor's desk was completely cleared out. No computer. No personal possessions. No spare change or loose bills in the second drawer. Nada. Our desks are connected and separated by a thin partition, so I got a pretty good look at the void.

Yet it wasn't an hour later &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=pPaiKtL4LTE:RwMWTpeWxEg: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=pPaiKtL4LTE:RwMWTpeWxEg: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXk8cCp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-2360042709475382798</id><published>2008-04-01T10:29:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.778-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.778-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>Seriously?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2360042709475382798/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/seriously.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2360042709475382798?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2360042709475382798?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/04/seriously.html" title="Seriously?" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/R_D2oDWdEmI/AAAAAAAADF4/gCmAaHBZIDI/s72-c/jester+clipart.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">Oh! I see how it is. Today is April Fool's. So you thought to yourself, 'Speaking of fools, let's check in on Joe.' As if I'm some laugh-whore you can call upon whenever you are feeling joke-horny. Is that all I am to you? You Google me only when you want to get your jollies and then I'm out of sight, out of mind, out of pants?

Well that is really S'ed up. I don't need you. I can Google myself.&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=O5z5lQtMEKc:No2VAyW5j8g: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=O5z5lQtMEKc:No2VAyW5j8g: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MBRHk9eSp7ImA9WxVaF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4064103942230747653</id><published>2008-03-16T20:05:00.037-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T22:10:55.761-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-14T22:10:55.761-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tales of drunken woe" /><title>Why Alcohol and the Ocean are a Great Combo</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4064103942230747653/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-alcohol-and-ocean-are-great-combo.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4064103942230747653?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4064103942230747653?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-alcohol-and-ocean-are-great-combo.html" title="Why Alcohol and the Ocean are a Great Combo" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/SeU9xM7TPBI/AAAAAAAAF-s/NVxn2qRaPBE/s72-c/the_funship.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">EMBARKATION
==============
The minute I stepped on the ship, I saw smiling faces all around me. Everyone was so friendly, considerate and just happy to be alive. It was unfamiliar territory for me.

On this trip, I was joined by quite the cast of characters:

 Sarah, aka "The Potty Mouth"
 Allison, aka "Fluffy"
 Chris, aka "El Presidente"
 Jewel, aka "My Name is Not Julie"
 Dana, aka "Snotty" (&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=uOTi-BUyPag:LrOcwJDzRmw: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=uOTi-BUyPag:LrOcwJDzRmw: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkzfCp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-3902136234241990321</id><published>2008-02-22T13:06:00.021-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.784-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.784-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="daily life" /><title>The Laws of Public Restrooms</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3902136234241990321/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/02/laws-of-public-restrooms.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3902136234241990321?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3902136234241990321?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/02/laws-of-public-restrooms.html" title="The Laws of Public Restrooms" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">STALLS - Just because you have some privacy doesn't mean you are alone. Everyone knows what you're doing in there.

  Cellphone use. It should be punishable by law and the sentence should be severed hands. If I hear another person answer a phone call from the inside, I will go medieval. I firmly believe you should never be on the phone with your pants off unless you a) let the other person know &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=9po8PmZKqkY:Hj8KMx4fzII: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=9po8PmZKqkY:Hj8KMx4fzII: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkzfSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8385773702260175206</id><published>2008-01-25T09:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.785-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.785-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="slang" /><title>Slanguage</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8385773702260175206/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/slanguage.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8385773702260175206?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8385773702260175206?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/slanguage.html" title="Slanguage" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><content type="html">The Evolution of Language

war buddy
What it used to mean:
  someone with whom you have served military duty, observing and experiencing the horrors of war
What it means now:
  someone who has helped you through a night of drunken excess; including - but not limited to - getting blackout drunk, doing something borderline illegal in public and vomiting all over said buddies' bathroom / car / &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=X_eOI15oN0g:3vmFStUHXFk: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=X_eOI15oN0g:3vmFStUHXFk: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkzfyp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-3357640678740570594</id><published>2008-01-18T08:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.787-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.787-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex/dating" /><title>Porn</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/3357640678740570594/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/porn.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3357640678740570594?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/3357640678740570594?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/porn.html" title="Porn" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><content type="html">Yeah, that's right. Porn. We were both thinking it. I just had the guts to say it first.

It's a sweaty topic, but I think it is possible to have an intelligent, academic discussion on the topic. We're all mature. So let's not wrap it up like a secret. Let's just whip it out and see what we can do with it. So I hope you're in the mood for a long, slow journey. We're going to take our time and &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=SJLcUFKQu1U:nGM_CseCn_4: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=SJLcUFKQu1U:nGM_CseCn_4: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkzcCp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4315999693398309747</id><published>2008-01-11T16:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.788-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.788-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><title>How to Bomb the Interview</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4315999693398309747/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-bomb-interview.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4315999693398309747?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4315999693398309747?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-bomb-interview.html" title="How to Bomb the Interview" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">So I love my job. Except for the work part. We've got soda fountains, Foosball, ping-pong and air hockey tables. But I still like to have my own special kind of fun. I recently started sitting in on interviews. Good for me. Bad for everyone else involved.



Interviews can be nerve-wracking for anybody. It's like a blind date where you get arrested if you go in for a kiss. All the difficult &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=lgPWGTlyAWU:ii8p_uaYHZ4: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=lgPWGTlyAWU:ii8p_uaYHZ4: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyeCp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8328198036045853889</id><published>2008-01-04T10:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.790-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.790-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>Gigolo Joe</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8328198036045853889/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/gigolo-joe.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8328198036045853889?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8328198036045853889?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2008/01/gigolo-joe.html" title="Gigolo Joe" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/R4AS6ZSQ_TI/AAAAAAAACrU/MNXH_hmnwf0/s72-c/starbucks.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">"Good morning. Welcome to Starbucks. How can I help you?"

"Hey. Gimme a sec here... Umm... Let me haaaave a.... Hmm.... So many choices.... What the heck is a latt?"

"Oh. I think you mean latté. It's just coffee and milk."

"Really? Coffee AND milk? Huh. Sure, I'll take one of those."

"Alright, that will be $2.93 - Oh, I think you dropped a $5 bill."

"What?"

"Next to your foot there. A $5 &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=D-3LrWcLlvI:nuONokuCLKk: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=D-3LrWcLlvI:nuONokuCLKk: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyeip7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6619793419517523175</id><published>2007-12-31T23:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.792-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.792-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Can't Wait for 2008</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6619793419517523175/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/cant-wait-for-2008.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6619793419517523175?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6619793419517523175?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/cant-wait-for-2008.html" title="Can't Wait for 2008" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">How I Will Make 2008 the Greatest Year Ever
  Write a hit country song that will move people to tears, inspire others to change their wicked ways, but also be good to dance and make babies to. The song will be called Jesus, Get My Gun. It will change your life.
  

  Slap bracelets. I'm bringing them back. I'll give one each to Lance Armstrong and Bono. The rest is easy. "What? You don't want to &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=JKX_3CFZ3Sw:tbuW3D3dUp0: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=JKX_3CFZ3Sw:tbuW3D3dUp0: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyeip7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6630214830503151902</id><published>2007-12-25T00:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.792-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.792-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Merry F'ing Christmas to You, You, YOU!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6630214830503151902/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-fing-christmas-to-you-you-you.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6630214830503151902?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6630214830503151902?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-fing-christmas-to-you-you-you.html" title="Merry F'ing Christmas to You, You, YOU!" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><content type="html">joey's list
         $599.99
         $19.99
         $19.99
         $399,021.00
         2 hours (@ $6.69 per minute)
         Santa's "Naughty List"
      &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=n-awCaC9SI0:7tzPaCJqzaY: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=n-awCaC9SI0:7tzPaCJqzaY: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UAQHwycSp7ImA9WxVUEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6752140389512583863</id><published>2007-12-21T13:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T16:27:21.299-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-16T16:27:21.299-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just joe" /><title>A (hot) Date in Court</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6752140389512583863/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/hot-date-in-court.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6752140389512583863?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6752140389512583863?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/hot-date-in-court.html" title="A (hot) Date in Court" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><content type="html">The Crime
Civilized provinces of the world process traffic violations in a civilized way. You get pulled over, you get a ticket, you curse police officers everywhere under your breath and it's all over when you mail in some silly check.

I do not currently reside in a civilized province. I live in North Carolina.

Never mind the fact that I was actually speeding. When I found out that I was &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=v1x_wyO3uFg:MDek_vCirsc: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=v1x_wyO3uFg:MDek_vCirsc: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyfSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-315392062578071854</id><published>2007-12-16T10:18:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><title>Harry Potter Pornified</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/315392062578071854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/harry-potter-pornified.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/315392062578071854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/315392062578071854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/12/harry-potter-pornified.html" title="Harry Potter Pornified" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">Mark it. pornified. I just invented it. It's when you take the title of a popular movie or book or My Little Ponies episode and make it sound like the name of a porno. Like how Rambo becomes Rambone. Or Star Wars becomes Star Whores. There's Saving Ryan's Privates, The Sperminator and Forest Hump. Or Whore of the Rings... Starring Dildo Baggins. It's easy. It's fun. It's cheap. Just like a porn &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=7rJfbs7W03E:EsaUT9oSwJg: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=7rJfbs7W03E:EsaUT9oSwJg: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMFSXgyeip7ImA9WxVbFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-7189373229692800465</id><published>2007-10-19T03:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T13:36:58.692-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-01T13:36:58.692-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="songs" /><title>The Drinking Hymn</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7189373229692800465/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/10/drinking-hymn.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7189373229692800465?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/7189373229692800465?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/10/drinking-hymn.html" title="The Drinking Hymn" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/Rxonz3J-3HI/AAAAAAAACkA/e48zQD_s6Jw/s72-c/beer.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><content type="html">Every so often, there comes along a work of art - sometimes a song - that transcends time and culture. It has a mystifying ability to bond living souls in a somewhat supernatural way.

This is not that song. This is a drinking song. For too long, the modern nations of this world have proudly caroled their patriotism in pubs, cafes and cantinas. Even when thousands of miles away from their native &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=NKbZy3fWJyE:t-Ix8u59i3U: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=NKbZy3fWJyE:t-Ix8u59i3U: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyfSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-8984547572066783026</id><published>2007-09-05T15:09:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="podcasts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex/dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiction" /><title>Being Straight Is So Gay</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8984547572066783026/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/09/being-straight-is-so-gay.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8984547572066783026?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/8984547572066783026?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/09/being-straight-is-so-gay.html" title="Being Straight Is So Gay" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/SD81b_g1yZI/AAAAAAAADPg/O17-h9rSLPc/s72-c/podcast.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">*update: download theaudio version of this post

I know that we're supposed to keep personal and professional separate. But sometimes my judgement is off and I act without thinking. I blurt out things that have no place in decent conversation. Usually when drinks are free.

Last week my company held a happy hour event at a local pub. And without much forethought — when do I ever do anything with &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=EYtRTAKauuU:ppsYBn2qORw: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=EYtRTAKauuU:ppsYBn2qORw: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUENSXc-cSp7ImA9WxNUEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-2811284801081663365</id><published>2007-08-23T19:07:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T17:34:58.959-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-03T17:34:58.959-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><title>Harry Potter in 3 Minutes</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2811284801081663365/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/08/harry-potter-in-3-minutes.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2811284801081663365?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/2811284801081663365?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/08/harry-potter-in-3-minutes.html" title="Harry Potter in 3 Minutes" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/Rs78t4W382I/AAAAAAAACeY/u8u-O-5G_cU/s72-c/dumbledore.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">Note: If you haven't read all seven Harry Potter books and don't want to know what happens (or don't care, for that matter), I suggest you stop reading. Otherwise, knock yourself out, you silly Muggle.



1981

 Snape: So I made this really big mistake and I kind of need a new job.


 Dumbledore:  No problem. What job do you want?


 Snape:  Umm... How about Defense Against the Dark Arts?


 &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
(continued...)&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=X1__j-YTGHc:9CUOypeqZCI: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=X1__j-YTGHc:9CUOypeqZCI: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkyfSp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-4747343478586765202</id><published>2007-08-12T20:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.795-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parody" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="summer" /><title>Sleeping in the Pool - Swimming in the Bed</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4747343478586765202/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/08/sleeping-in-pool-swimming-in-bed.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4747343478586765202?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/4747343478586765202?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/08/sleeping-in-pool-swimming-in-bed.html" title="Sleeping in the Pool - Swimming in the Bed" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/Rr-o35B0rGI/AAAAAAAACZs/3v-WPHtuEDo/s72-c/no_running.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">I had just completed my daily routine of 500 laps in the pool and was drying my sun-bronzed, hunky muscles when I happened to take note of the pool rules hanging lazily from the gate. As I read through each item, I was struck by something peculiar. That peculiar something was not an Oompa Loompa singing Sinatra and throwing punches - for once - but instead what struck me was a feeling. Sure, I &lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/paperbeatsrock?a=_BZ8Cyb_mkk:jFtIkGWznFs: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=_BZ8Cyb_mkk:jFtIkGWznFs: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></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUNSXkycCp7ImA9WxVRE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14361990.post-6268945388014238107</id><published>2007-07-22T20:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:38:18.798-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T12:38:18.798-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pop culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><title>Harry Potter &amp; the Sar Chasm</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6268945388014238107/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/07/harry-potter-sar-chasm.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6268945388014238107?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14361990/posts/default/6268945388014238107?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://paperbeatsrock.blogspot.com/2007/07/harry-potter-sar-chasm.html" title="Harry Potter &amp; the Sar Chasm" /><author><name>joey b</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05887522114763485323</uri><email>pbeatsr@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="15755959467018551331" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YJuDdbvZlzM/RqPlTpB0qII/AAAAAAAACN8/rHPNzDXLXuk/s72-c/deathly_hallows.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><content type="html">At last, the seventh and final Harry Potter book hit stores this weekend. And since you don't like reading - who does? - I'll do you a favor and give you the highlights so you can sound semi-intelligent at the water cooler this week.

Potheads for Potter
Few were surprised when prankster twins Fred and George Weasley transformed their wizard joke shop into a drug paraphernalia store, renaming&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;br/&gt;
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