tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75538949843964218822024-02-20T08:35:41.134-05:00What The World Has Taught MeA Blog about what i have learned and keep on learning over my life. My ramblings and a little insight of how my mind works. Whatever that is worth.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-51129378207689093312013-12-25T09:14:00.002-05:002013-12-25T09:14:47.860-05:00To All You Wonderful People At Christmas<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>These illustrations suggest four general maxims[...]. <br />
The first is: remember that your motives are not always as altruistic as they seem to yourself. <br />
The second is: don't over-estimate your own merits. <br />
The third is: don't expect others to take as much interest in you as you do yourself. <br />
And the fourth is: don't imagine that most people give enough thought to you to have any special desire to persecute you.
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―Bertrand Russell<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17854.Bertrand_Russell"><br /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Last year I wrote on who cares whether it is Merry
Christmas or Happy Holidays. I thought I was pretty nice about it. Tried
to explain in a bipartisan way that either were good. I didn't see many
"Put the Merry or Christ back into Christmas", but this year I have
seen a slew of them and all I could think is, you miserable tossers. Do
you have nothing better to do than keep up this inane argument? Is it
that important to you? Do you know while you are searching for these
picture quotes from raving lunatic sites(pot meet kettle) your children
are stealing $20 off of you to donate to an atheist site that gives to
lest fortunate people here and abroad? More than you have or ever will.
Though you wail about it with your "Likes" and "Shares". They are also
becoming tolerant of different religions and races. Maybe even dating
them. They are starting to hate Christmas(the secret hate behind it) as
much as you hate the Eastern Indian couple that took over the gas
station or convenience store just down the street. Don't say you are
tolerant just because you've actually talked to one of these people.
Thinking of them as "one of these people" isn't very nice.</span><br />
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Let's get down to the basic. Christmas. Celebrated on December 25 of
every year since....when? Hmmm? I guess it has been since the Christians
have tried to ride on the Pagans rituals.. Roman pagans first
introduced the holiday of Saturnalia(we all watched The Big Bang Theory)
the holiday ended on December 25 with a human sacrifice. A scapegoat
for the week long debauchery of lawlessness. I guess the Christians
wanted to put an end to the sacrifice(Uh-huh) or maybe they wanted to
grab off of the popularity of the event with the birth of their Savior.
They begun this in the 4th century AD. So when you Post "Put the Christ
back into Christmas it was our first" You are wrong. It was never yours
first. It was the Pagans first. You stole it from them. And what a
wonderful time it was. The birth of your Savoir was the death of the
Torah and to say that Judaism is also dead. Nothing like celebrating
someones birth which lead to killing of Jews. Screw them right? It was
yours first. All right keep it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Maybe you can argue that the new testament is different than that. Your savior changed all that. Well, let's see what he said. </span><br />
<dl><dd>Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or</dd><dd>the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill.</dd><dd> -Mathew 5:17</dd><dd> </dd><dd></dd><dd></dd></dl>
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That basically says that what is written in the past is also good. So, All the crazy stuff of God telling Abraham to kill his son Isaac and the fun God and Lucifer have with Job and all that nice stuff is still alright. Go ahead. Try it today. See how far you get.<br />
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What does it really matter? Merry Christmas? Happy Christmas? Happy Holidays? It has transformed into a pleasant greeting at the darkest time of the year. The World is much smaller and together now. Where people of different races and religion are living together peacefully(at least in the western world). Is that horrible? Is that worth using all of your contemptible energy for? For someone to wish you a safe and happy holidays? Those pricks! Maybe we should deport them or better yet smite them as your ancient tomb teaches you and your demigod(which may or may not have existed) confirms is still law. Or do you pick and choose which law to obey? Try that with the real law. Why don't you use that hate against smiting children starving or the practice of female circumcision? Go to <a href="http://plancanada.ca/childsponsorship/?gclid=CKynxrenyrsCFVBgMgodrgkAHg" target="_blank">Plan Canada</a> or <a href="http://www.salvationarmy.ca/" target="_blank">The Salvation Army</a> Where the energy of your hate of changing some words will go to good use.<br />
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There seems to be a saying going around lately of, "first world problems" and this seems to be one.Try to go outside of yourself and listen. "We want Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays" or the what not. Now go ahead and tell this problem to a starving child. Go ahead. Be as bold and as brazen as your posts. March right up and say it. Go and tell that poor girl who has just been circumcised, mutilated and whine over a saying! Tell her how your God wants it that way! How that same God didn't protect her, but would love to see you happy over a (explicative deleted) saying! Whatever keeps YOU warm and snugly at night!<br />
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I say Merry Christmas. I like the saying and I grew up with it. So, I will say it, but if it makes you happy I will continue saying it.<br />
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Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy the season of unreason.<br />
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Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish. ―Euripides<br />
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Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups. - George Carlin<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22782.George_Carlin"><br /></a><br />
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Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives. ―Oscar Wilde<br />
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We keep on being told that religion, whatever its imperfections, at
least instills morality. On every side, there is conclusive evidence
that the contrary is the case and that faith causes people to be more
mean, more selfish, and perhaps above all, more stupid.”
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―Christopher Hitchens<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3956.Christopher_Hitchens"><br /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3565.Oscar_Wilde"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3956.Christopher_Hitchens"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3956.Christopher_Hitchens"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3956.Christopher_Hitchens"><br /></a>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-52654388828960534392013-09-15T13:26:00.003-04:002013-09-15T13:26:21.495-04:00Facebook Terrorists Do this or else. You better do this or the world will come down upon you. If you don't do as I ask there will be hell to pay. I have it on good knowledge that something will go horribly wrong if you don't do this. Ah, threats. We have all received threats. How did they make you feel? The pit of your stomach rise a bit? Pupils dilate? Does it stimulate your Hypothalamus , the part of the brain responsible for balancing stress and relaxed states? Is it alerted of danger and sends a signal to your adrenal glands which activates the sympathetic system? Has adrenaline and noradrenaline been released by the adrenal medulla which has raised your heart rate, increased respiration,, slowed down digestion, allowed blood to flow more easily, carrying more oxygen and energy to your muscles and your nervous system has sent signals to your muscles to contract? Threats also lead to anger, even by the recipients of said threats.<br />
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These threats seem harmless, but they are based on fiction, magic and superstition(I guess I really said the same thing three times). Facebook posts churned out by the hundreds it seems. By sites and people that think they are doing good or believe that this woo works. I haven't looked in to where these silly quotes come from because I really don't want to be angry all the time and to think that all these people can be so stupid. How can you post these things without really reading it or thinking.<br />
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One says: Say this slow "God I love you and I need you." Now if you meant it Repost & a miracle will happen tonight. Ignore and all will go Wrong. Hmm? There is several things wrong with this. First off, God? When is the last time this genie has granted you a wish? If everything is ok in your life wouldn't a wish be a little greedy. I have wished that all pain and suffering to children stop several times, but that hasn't come true yet. 0 for 1. Then the threat. All will go wrong if you ignore it. What is this? What kind of person creates this, especially that you have to repost this? Is God a Moderator on Facebook(I hope that doesn't catch, it is pretty novel)? Could I get away with a like threat? "Make a wish that God will make you famous and rich where you will ignore all the people less fortunate than you with the money you will be making for doing nothing. Repost this and you get your wish. If you ignore I will come to your house and will bust all your teeth and fingers and make you pick up your teeth. Have a good day!"<br />
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Some go on tirades about being a good parent and such and share if you are. What if I am not? What if I have given my kids candy before they have went to bed or have gotten them to open back doors into liquor stores because they don't have their fingerprints in a database yet? In doing all this I have shared the post. I guess the Armageddon horns will sound......Hmmm? Nothing yet.<br />
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Other ones go on about this burned child or kid with cancer and share or repost this image. NO! (explicative deleted) YOU! Most people know about such things because they watch the news or know someone or have experienced this first hand. Why would I repost this so people can see this image. Is it going to help the poor child? Does it say please donate to this cancer research or this hospital? No! It wasn't even created for knowledge that said stuff was happening. It was probably created to get more hits on a website ergo more revenue. That sounds altruistic. And I love it when they have God attached to it in some way. Like, pray and repost to save this child. Why didn't God do that in the first place? Does He(It) hate your child or just you? Would you save this child if you had magic powers? I am sure you know that answer. Now we know who'd be and be a better God.<br />
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Don't threaten me. You don't know who I am. You don't know what I am thinking or why I didn't repost your crazy post. Why should I? You are just a scamming hack in the guise that you are doing or portraying some good with your charlatan quotes and posts. You are pouncing on the weak and poor people who can't see through your wicked ways. Maybe you just don't know the evil you are doing, but I think the ones penning the original post know what they are doing. <br />
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<span class="firstword">Any</span> man who is a man may not, in honor, submit to threats or violence. But many men who are not cowards are simply unprepared for the fact of human savagery,<br />
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Jeff Cooper<span class="smtext"><a class="authorlink" href="http://www.searchquotes.com/quotes/author/Jeff_Cooper/"> </a></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-64463691469761459182013-09-08T17:07:00.000-04:002013-09-08T17:07:04.548-04:00The Karma Unicorn The universe seems neither benign nor hostile, merely indifferent.<br />
-Carl Sagan<br />
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Some of you may believe in Karma. Where some mystical force tries to balance everything out. Tries to set straight all the evil in the universe with some good. It catches up with this evil person and effects them in a negative way to right what wrong they have done to you, thus saving the day....The universe doesn't care. Why should it? It isn't alive in the sense that we are alive. It doesn't have a conscience. We are part of the universe so how come all or just one of us doesn't have sway in what happens all over the cosmos? Like, I want a meteor to hit a certain evil country because they do bad things? Or maybe it is all the Suns in the galaxy that control our lives. Well, yes, but not in the Karma sense. They are just nuclear furnaces. How the hell do they control anything other than heat and some gravity? There must be something.....or maybe it is nothing at all. Like, I said the universe does not care about you. Just like Time doesn't. You can't ask Time to take revenge on someone or get you an A in Math or get you a girlfriend. No, Time just does what it always does, trudge along. Never stopping. Just bulling its way through everything.<br />
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Karma is a supposed mystical force that guides everything according to my wildly flippant view on Hindu mysticism. Created(or dreamed up) thousands of years ago other religions also believe in it. Like, Buddhists and Taoists to name a few. It employs the thought of cause and effect. If you do something bad something bad will happen to you...later on...maybe...if a God finds it fit. Uh, okay. Something will always happen to you later. If I break a window in the barn and my mom finds out later. She will chase me around the kitchen and living room in a circle with a ruler and catch me. Or I never get caught(didn't happen). Or I die later on in life. Which, I guess would be Karma catching up to me. Bullocks! It was fine(I guess) to believe in this thousands of years ago or hell just over one hundred, but now, today? We are supposed to have a better understanding of the universe now, more scientific. Back then the sun rose, it was magic. If you didn't know the answer it was god or leprechauns. Use some critical thinking.<br />
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I have noticed some people posting things online to the effect: She got what she deserved. Karma, baby. That is a rather vengeful thought. Sure that person did something horrible to you, but vengeance isn't a very nice thing either. In taking glee at someone else s misfortune, though they did you wrong, isn't that inciting the Karma machine to enact against you? Or it doesn't work that way? You are exempt from that? How? Is there a little loophole? It is fine to happen to you, but not me? And what about all the other times your Karma buddy didn't help you out? Did you post those? Someone cut me off, but they didn't die in a horrible crash. Damn them! They can get away with murder!<br />
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There is no mystical force guiding the universe. Sorry to speak in hyperbole(I guess no irrefutable evidence yet). If you believe in Karma than why not Unicorns or Santa, the Easter Bunny, aliens that have visited only a select few, 90% of all conspiracy theories? Most of these were childhood beliefs that you have abandoned. They were fun at the time, but we all grow up...some of us anyways(not me). Now if you excuse me I have to post on Facebook that Santa got his by being impaled by a unicorn for not getting me a Sega Genesis when I was a kid. Karma, baby!<br />
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Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.<br />
-Albert Einstein <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10538.Carl_Sagan"> </a><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-87447843950092455442013-08-01T11:10:00.000-04:002013-08-01T11:10:32.372-04:00That Sounds About Right...? The doctor emerges from the operating room, face grim. Your stomach rises into your throat. You know what this is going to be. Looking down at your arm in a sling. You think, this isn't bad for being in a five car pile-up from someone running a red light. The doctor now stands before you. He starts to tell you that your son has lost a lot of blood and will need to have a transfusion. Of whole blood? You ask. Yes, He needs a lot of blood now to replace all the blood he has lost. Being a Jehovah's Witness you know that you cannot let anyone take transfusions of whole blood, just fractions. If you were a Christian Scientist you wouldn't of been in the hospital. You would rely on praying to a God to magically heal your son. The same God that could of prevented this accident from happening but didn't. But being a Witness you have to settle for letting your son's brain stop receiving oxygen because there is no more blood to pump to it. Sounds about right.<br />
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Two factions fight over a city. A Holy city. One Christian the other Muslim. Both lay claim that it belongs to them. Their God has decreed it so(which both worship the same God). Several times there have been Crusades. Men would come down from Europe and battle the Muslims over Jerusalem. Thousands died, cities razed. Woman raped and killed. Children slaughtered. All for what? It wasn't very tactful for the Europeans. It wasn't rich in crops. No Muslim assassin killed a king. What possible reason could there be to needlessly kill so many people? Religion. Don't fool yourself. It is still going on today. Sounds about right.<br />
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Muslims. This will be blunt and quick. Their views are archaic. They treat woman as not even second class citizens. They are barely allowed to go to school. No high ranking jobs. They are treated like servants.Sounds about right.<br />
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Your young daughter lies in bed wheezing and coughing drowning in her own fluids from whooping cough. You made the right decision in not getting her vaccinated, right? At least she didn't develop Autism. Instead she gets her life cut short drowning. And you will never see her smile or enjoy her curiosity again. Just because some whack thinks(with no scientific proof) that vaccinations cause Autism. Thousands of people have been duped by these idiots just to have their children die of preventable diseases. Do you think mothers in third world countries would turn down this marvel of science that would save their child just because it "might"(which it doesn't) cause Autism? They thought the mercury in some vaccines caused Autism. So, scientists tested it and even took it out. It didn't cause it, but they still removed it from the vaccines. What did the anti-vaccers do? Did they put their hands up and say, Okay. You tested it and proved that it didn't so let's focus on something else that may cause Autism. Like any good Sceptic would do when science proves something. Nope they just said it was something else and then something else and so on. All the while science kept testing and saying no, it's not that or that. I myself couldn't bare to stand by and watch any of my children die like that. What kind of people are these? They must enjoy having children die needlessly. That sounds about right.<br />
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Now if you agree with any of these then say it out loud. Say it in a crowded room or elevator. Say, I will not save my son or daughter by an easy mean. I will just let them die. Say, I think this person should die because they are different from me. Say, my daughter shouldn't go to school and I should and then her husband should rule her like a king. She must obey me no matter the cost. I wonder if you would be looked askance? Would those people look at you like you were mentally ill? That sounds about right.<br />
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">A
supernatural being who performs a miracle while idly standing by in the
presence of so much suffering in the course of history would be guilty
of gross negligence, failing to meet obligations of moral stewardship,
and failing to fulfill a duty to rescue. It would be reasonable to
conclude that such a being is evil.</span><br />
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> </span><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">-Matt McCormick</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-7856630215771248502013-07-20T23:54:00.002-04:002013-07-20T23:54:57.774-04:00A Well Deserved Letter One person in my life I should thank for putting up with me and dealing with all the grief I give her. Though I have never had hair brained schemes, but I have had my....moments. Like this one time I thought that I had my iPod stolen. So, I went into my iCloud account to look for it under the app find my iPod( I love you, Apple). As it loads it is bringing up my street and address. Hmm? I think that maybe it's locating Megan's iPhone. Nope, it's tracking my iPod. Quickly looking around I get a boost of adrenalin. Whoever has stolen it is in my house. What a big pair of balls this person has to return to my house with my Device. Ha! He will think he has a drop on me. Springing up from my chair I head towards the kitchen to grab a weapon. As I do I see my iPod on the living room bureau. When did the thief get by me to put it there? <br />
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Megan puts up with a lot of things I do. Like, when I obsess over things of get into an expensive little fad like hockey cards. That one was...interesting. Now it is plants, but at least she is into that. Over the winter and my birthday she bought me a mini green house. So I decided to plant over 200 seeds. Did we have enough room in the garden for the plants? No, but not all of them will grow and we can give some of them away. I have got her into gardening and weeding(which she abhors). She even picks the plants and I ask her where she wants them. She is a little prune and destruction happy, but it is a small price to pay for her interest in what I like to do....for now.<br />
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She makes meals for me(and the kids). And what meals! She is a brilliant cook! If you don't thinks so, I weighed 200lbs when we met and now I weigh 235lbs and I rarely eat any take-away. Why would I when I have great food made for me at home and someone who makes such delightful noises when I pinch her. It is a form of gratitude for the wonderful job, though she is pushy on the fruits. Like when she puts grapes in my mouth whilst I am "napping" on the couch. If she is up when I leave and am heading out the door she will ask if I want her to make me a lunch? Late as usual I will say "no", then say, "wait" and finally, "yes". What is 5 more minutes for a delicious sandwich?<br />
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She is a wonderful mother. She corrects and loves both of my children no matter how hard I try to corrupt them. Like when I say "What the.." in hope that Reagan will finish the sentence with a "hell?" I get a "Jeremy!" and a very stern look. Once I was told not to give Reagan any marshmallows(alone) out of the Lucky Charms cereal. Megan was in another room and I dug through the cereal box and gave Reagan some marshmallows. The last one I gave her she ran and said, "Look, Mummy. Daddy gave me this." and presented her the marshmallow. I swore under my breath and called her a little rat. I quickly hid around the corner, but I was caught. I won't bore you with the details of my terrific escape from death, but pose a question: Why can't I feed my children loads of sugar?<br />
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Now it takes a lot to put up with someone that is so hardheaded and little and....Hmmm? Wait, that seems like it is for a different story. Okay, I've got it now. Now it takes a lot to put up with someone who is a closet sociopath. She is only around 5 feet tall, but she walks about 6'5" and 250lbs. I should know I have been in that path. She is stubborn, but I wouldn't have it any other way. She keeps me honest(a bit). She is passionate about everything that interests her and I am fortunate that I interest her.<br />
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I love you, Megan<br />
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She's been lookin' like a queen in a sailor's dream<br />And she don't always say what she really means<br />
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-Gordon Lightfoot <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-90192825941143785172013-06-02T00:40:00.002-04:002013-06-06T10:17:32.021-04:00A Worthless Apology January 1, 1984. I was almost 8 years old. It was in the morning and we were watching Team Canada get defeated by Team U.S.S.R when the phone rang(never a good thing in a story). I am not sure who it was, but my Mom burst into tears and my Sister and I soon found out that my Grandfather, Howard Magee had died. My Sister and I also started to cry. I am not sure where my dad was at the time, but I am sure he was doing the same. Maybe this is why I have so little interest in New Years, but that is probably not why I have the big indifference with New Years Eve. So what? It's just a new year, just like every other day. Just an excuse for drunks to drink. Look! The sun rose.! Let's drink!<br />
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My grand parents on my Dad's side had 9 children. 9!? There was Bud(who passed away last year), Jane(the only girl!) John, Boyd, Richard(died years ago), Peter(also passed away years ago), Hughie,, Kirk(my Dad), and Brant. I could imagine the trouble all those boys would get into. I mean Reagan gets into enough for 3 boys on her own. I was in the the back yard working in the garden and I would glance back the odd time to see what Reagan was up to. I could just see a little bit of her. She was picking up seed packets and shaking them. Oh. they make a lovely sound. I start watering again, thinking, I hope she doesn't figure out those are easy to get into and spill out. I look back to check on her again and she is firing the packets halfway across the deck.. Good. Fortunately I do have some stories of the Magee boys.<br />
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Should I tell the one where Hughie wrestled the broom from grandma or how some of my uncles would play cowboys and Indians for keeps or maybe when Peter thought he was Batman? I think I will keep it short with two little stories. My dad(Kirk) had a bow and arrow set when he was young and what is one of the greatest things to do with projectiles? Yup, fire it into the air as soon as you got out the front door. "Puinn" straight into the air and over the barn. My dad went toddling off around the barn in search of the arrow. Rounding the corner he saw that grandpa was sharpening the mover blade. He cautiously looked around in the long grass inching closer to grandpa. Pausing for a second and pointing with the file to a spot ten feet from him grandpa asked, "is that yours?" There the arrow was. Nothing else was said. Dad collected the arrow and ran off. Probably to do something safer. Like jumping off the veranda roof with a bed sheet as a parachute.</div>
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Growing up on a farm, especially in the 50's and/or 60's isn't a charmed life. Like waking up in the morning with snow at the foot of your bed. You didn't always get the newest trends in clothes or even get to sleep in your own bed. You had to share, but they had fun doing it. My uncles Richard, John and Peter were screwing around in bed and my grandfather had given them a couple of warnings to settle down and go to sleep. They didn't and my grandpa came upstairs with a long piece of wood to quiet them down. When he opened the door to their room they ducked under the covers thinking that would save them. Grandpa stood there waiting. Then one head in the middle started to poke up out of the sheets and "crack" right on the forehead. Then the head squirmed back down. Grandpa kept standing there waiting. Once again the head in the middle started to move on up, maybe just to check to see if their father was gone. Grandpa cracked the head again and down it went to the safety of the covers. Apparently, the head in the middle was my uncle Richard and he wasn't trying to get out from under the covers. John and Peter were on either side on him and pushed him up to get hit on the head, but he found strength to force his way back down.<br />
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I was very young when grandpa was alive. I remember getting the odd $2 bill from him and thought that was wonderful, but it was nothing compared to when he would show me a $50 bill. I apparently loved it. Even if I was shone a $100 I would say, but that's not a fifty. I would sit on the cook stove door and call grandpa over to sit beside me. "Come sit here, grandpa." Which was only about 8 inch square. My grandfather got cancer when I was...I am not sure how old. They removed his nose and gave him a prosthetic one. The cancer has spread though. In the fall of 1983 it had gotten worse and he was confined to a bed. My parents took my sister and I over to the farm to see him. Amanda(my sister) went up to him and spoke to him. I didn't. I was too scared. I refused to go up and talk to him. I could imagine how that made him feel. Your grandson wouldn't talk to you on your death bed. I have always regretted it. Every once in awhile I will remember what a terrible child I was never saying goodbye to someone that loved me. Sorry. He was still the same man he always was. When it creeps into my mind from time to time it overwhelms me with grief. I will never get to see him again. I will never get to beg for his forgiveness for being horrible.. Sorry. It feels like....I am at a loss for words. I cannot describe it. A hopelessness maybe. Never will I see or hear him again and it rips my heart asunder every time I think of it, Sorry. I will never get forgiveness for that. I don't deserve forgiveness for it. Sorry. I am so sorry.....<br />
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<h1>
Death leaves a wound no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”</h1>
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- anonymous </h2>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-49909278187402880432013-05-29T21:55:00.002-04:002013-05-29T21:55:39.866-04:00Look At That I Am Perfect Billions and billions of years ago(actually around 4.5 billion years) this chunk of rock we live on was formed. Composed of an atmosphere of mainly hydrogen and helium and a rocky surface full of volcanic activity. It wasn't suited for life. But being the perfect distance away from the sun. It was primed to hold life. As the hydrogen and helium left our atmosphere(being too light to stay bound to our gravity), rocks in the crust of the earth began to release oxygen and other gasses trapped in them, As the Sun shined upon the Earth and through the water it gave life to tiny bacteria underneath the water. Bacteria that is the ancestor to all plants on the face of the planet. That bacteria evolved and spread out from the water onto land and then further into land. Evolving further to develop roots which in turn formed soil. Then to follow flowers and fruits. A perfect beginning.<br />
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Different bacteria formed to develop into creatures, after the perfect energy source(plants and fruits) were formed. Along with the perfect gas, oxygen. Some of these creatures moved out of the oceans and evolved on land. They were the were the ancestors of the dinosaurs, birds, fish, insects and last the mammals. The perfect conditions had to take place for this to happen. Monkey's had to evolve and slowly change to what we are today. The sun had to be the right distance away. There had to be food to sustain life. There had to be oxygen for us to breathe. This all had to be perfect for us to even have a fighting chance to start.<br />
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You may think your body is imperfect. Like, I am too fat or I am short. Those maybe true, but inside is the epitome of perfection. You are a complex individual. Yes, even your mind , but . no one cares about your feelings in this tirade. Let's start with the oxygen you need to take in. Okay,.into the lungs it goes. You have two for optimal performance, but you can get by on one. Albeit not that greatly, The oxygen is transferred to your blood stream and back to your heart to be transported to all of your organs. The heart never stops(whilst you live). It beats and pumps like a perfectly tuned watch. Speeding and slowing as is needed without an external source programming it to do so. There is a myth that we only use 10% of our brain. Think about that. The brain consumes around 20% or our bodies resources. That is quite wasteful just to use 10% of your brain. It runs everything in your body through neurons, nerves and other chemical impulses. It tells your legs to move, your eyes to look, to grow, love and many other things. It even does such wondrous things as paralyze you and forces you to watch vivid images that sometimes fool you in believing what you see is real even with your eyes shut. Ah dreaming. No, unfortunately you use 100% of your brain. Perfection. You have organs that filter poisons and release chemicals to convert sugars and even release them when you need it. Two eyes for depth perception and peripheral vision and two ears for balance and hearing sound from every angle. A fighting chance to be perfect in our perfect world.<br />
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I know I have taken an optimistic view on the world. I know there is death pain and suffrage, There is crime and evil people and floods, earthquakes and other turmoil in the world, but it is easy to do that. It is easy to be cynical and note all the horrible things. It is hard to be to say all the good things. It is hard to be perfect. The world and all life on it wasn't easy to happen.We weren't all of the sudden here. That is too easy Species of all kinds struggled and lived and died even today they aren't making it. Several lanes of evolution dead ended and what you see today is what we have. In thousands of years maybe there will be something different. Again it will be something perfect.<br />
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<br />
Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms
in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right
hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are
all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the
elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that
matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of
time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only
way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to
explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here
today.”
<br /> ―<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lawrence_M._Krauss" target="_blank"> Lawrence Krauss</a><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-35768019354843991282013-01-15T08:51:00.003-05:002013-01-20T14:57:54.082-05:00I'm A Hero, Megan“Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me. ” <br />
-Fred Rogers<br />
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Day Three<br />
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I go to bed around !:30 and at 2:30 Reagan is crying . I give her 5 minutes to settle down and then I go in, just because of her being sick last night. I enter her room to find her standing. So, I pick her up and take her to my room and lay her down beside me. After kicking me for 10 minutes she settled down and went to sleep. The next thing I know it's 6:30 and she is awake. Damn. I forgot to take her back to her room. I am screwed. Now she is trying to get off the bed! What is she doing? It's dark not tint to party. I grab her and haul her back onto bed. After a restless half an hour of being kicked and punched we finally get up. Yah! We eat breakfast, which I never do, but because I have low blood sugar it looks like frosted mini wheats for Reagan and I. At eight I go upstairs to the bathroom. I can hear the cat thumping around and Reagan giggling. So she is either chasing Hank or being chased. Either one it sounds like great fun. Coming downstairs I notice that the carpet runner is upside down. I wonder how she did that? I went into the kitchen then the living room to put away the iPad before fixing the rug. On the way through the kitchen the floor was gritty and then on in to the living room. What? Oh, no. She was dragging the carpet between the front door and on into the living room. This is what made her laugh. the cat was chasing her anther carpet. Apparently 10 feet long by almost 2 feet wide carpets hold a lot of dirt and they are really easy to clean up when the cat lays down in the swept up piles.<br />
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After sweeping up the dirt and chasing the cat with the broom, I took a break in the front room. Mothers know this well. You can't take a break without children sniffing out that weakness. So enter Reagan. " Daddy." Hmmm...? This must of been a mistake. 5 minutes later it was "Mommy." <br />
"Nope. Daddy."<br />
"Hi, Daddy." As if to say, oh, hi. When did you get here, Daddy.<br />
I sighed and left the room.<br />
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A couple of hours later she had found a new thing or things to play with. Rustling came from the pantry. It sounded like paper, dry paper. Investigating I discovered that she had found a bag of onions. She was taking them out of the bag and peeling some of the layers. In the time it took me to cross the kitchen to get the broom she had packed the onions up and was carrying then across the floor. Reagan has had a new obsession with carrying things around. Like iPad's and drinks people have left on the coffee table. As she was running little flakes were falling out and she noticed. "Mess! Mess!<br />
"Yah, I know. I see it."<br />
"Mess! Mess!" And she pointed at it.<br />
"I see it! And besides you are the one creating the mess!" Seeing the mess cleaned up she took off. Probably to start some fires.<br />
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While she napped I put some drywall anchors in and some hooks. By the way Keanan was there most of the time, but he is well behaved compared to the pay-attention-to-me-bot. Thank god Megan was home soon. I endured. They tried to make me go crazy, but I didn't. I'm a hero. I am definitely not afraid to fly that flag. A goddam hero! I was so exhausted. I don' t know how single moms do it. I reckon I have a new respect for them. Well, most of them anyways. The adventures will continue. What will happen next? Keanan gets a motorcycle? Megan has a new hat? Reagan builds a time machine and plagues the world throughout time? Who knows? That highway is ready. to travel.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-2541940783163932982013-01-13T08:11:00.002-05:002013-01-15T08:58:35.317-05:00That Wall Is Showing Cracks<span class="maintext"><span class="firstword">Look</span>
at a stone cutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times
without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred-and-first
blow it will split in two, and I know it was not the last blow that did
it, but all that had gone before.</span> <br />
<span class="smtext"><a class="authorlink" href="http://www.searchquotes.com/quotes/author/Jacob_August_Riis/"> </a></span><br />
<span class="smtext">Jacob August Riis</span><br />
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<span class="smtext">Day Two </span><br />
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<span class="smtext">6:16am. Keanan comes into my room and asks if he can go down and play on the PS3. I get up half groggy and say sure, then wait. I look at the time and wonder if he should go back to bed. Then I wonder what planet I am on. Keanan stands in the doorway waiting for my next reply. Ok. Go play. I fall back onto my pillow and issue a tiny prayer of, please let Reagan sleep for at least another hour.</span><br />
<span class="smtext"><br /></span><span class="smtext">6:39 I hear Reagan crying and stirring. Well, maybe if I leave her alone she'll go back to sleep. she keeps crying for 5 minutes. Fine. I will go in and get her and hopefully she will go back to sleep in my bed. I get up and stumble into her room and there is a horrible smell. She is huddled in the corner away from where she had thrown up. I pick her out of bed and stand her on the floor. "Mommy", "Daddy" I say as I unzip her pajamas. I pick her up and holder her to keep warm as we go to the bathroom so I can clean her up. Once clean I take her back to my bed and we lay down. "Mommy". "Nope I'm daddy." Neither of us go back to sleep, but I guess you could say we rested. I tried covering her, but she would just kick the blankets off. Fine. At about 7:30 she started to gag and cough. I leaned her over the bed, but she wouldn't puke. So, I took her towards the bathroom and she was sick on the way there. Not a lot. Cleaning her up I took her down stairs and dressed her leaving her with her brother. Back up stairs to clean up the mess and take the linens down to be washed. Great way to wake up. Is it not too bad now</span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">10:30. Coming in from a smoke Keanan cam up to me crying and holding out his hand. Apparently the new cat, Hanks was playing too rough and scratched Keanan. Reaching for the chef knife in the butchers block I asked him if he wanted me to cut of his hand to stop the pain. No, he said and laughed. As I put the knife away Reagan pointed at it and grunted. "no you can't have the knife." to which she replied, "Mommy" "No I am daddy and I will still not let you have the knife."</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Time. I am not sure, but it was before lunch. The runs started. 4 times before lunch I had to change her diaper along with every time I had to say, "No, daddy." Both children ate their lunches quietly. I tripped over a high chair and swore. Just before Reagan's nap I had to change her again. Keanan and I played football against each other. After I went up 17-0, he changed teams and played with me.</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">4:00....ish Reagan had woken from her nap, "Mommy", "Daddy" I said. Keanan's mother shortly after picked him up and Miss Fuss and I were alone. Putting on the lasagna it was then off to Lowe's to get some drywall screws. Considering I haven't been able to find her other shoe in a day and a half Reagan had to ride with croc's on. It's nice out. At Lowe's we walked in and went to the cfl bulbs. While I was looking for soft white dimmable bulbs, Reagan was looking at carrying out cases of them. After we went to the hardware section and the screws. As I was looking and comparing Reagan was picking and dropping on the floor. When I was done she had crawled into the bottom shelf and was laughing and giving me the "devils smile" as I was on my hands and knees and could not reach her. She did come out when I asked her too. Knocking over everything in front of her as she came out. Clean up. Walking to the cash I picked up a Dewalt bit set as mine had gone missing. Reagan offered to carry it saying "heavy, heavy!" as she ran. Well, that was better than "Mommy." She enjoyed carrying out the other thing I bought then the other two things once they were put in a bag. I can't say what the two things are because they are a surprise for mommy. </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">8:30</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Reagan to bed, now it is time to watch some playoff Packers and some Resident Evil 6 those buggers just deal with Zombies and 300lbs men chasing them down....lucky. soon to bed, hopefully until at least 7:30. Not so....babe...sure.</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-64959428077768625112013-01-12T14:04:00.002-05:002013-01-15T09:04:10.891-05:00It Won't Be So Bad<br />
Day One<br />
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This weekend I have both the kids to myself. Megan is off to a hockey tournament in Huntsville. Keanan will just be asking a lot of questions and Reagan...well, Reagan is Reagan. I got off work early on Friday so I could drive Megan over to Kristen's house so she could hitch a ride with a bunch of girls up to Huntsville. It was raining, but driving was still good, so that wasn't bad. We arrived at Kristen's and unloaded Meagan and her stuff, said our goodbyes and me and the kids were rolling back home. It's the weekend so I take Highway 2 home. A nice leisurely drive through Clarington to Oshawa. Nice and uneventful. The children are behaving.Just a lot of "Mommy" from the back. Not too bad. I unload Reagan and I notice Megan's purse in the back seat. Sigh. Taking out my phone I give her a call and off course she doesn't answer. Keanan Reagan and I enter the house. I was supposed to cook lasagna for dinner, but if I had to go back to Bomanville. Grabbing my iPod I search for Kristen number. Thank goodness for iTunes and Apple products all linked together.. First I phoned the land line. No answer. Then I phoned her cell. Kristen answered and I asked if they had left yet. When she said no, I asked to speak to Megan. Do you want your purse<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? I asked. She said yes. Then I said something nasty and said I was on my way then hung up. Great. a 15 minute extra drive with a child that could just be mad and scream all the way. Pocketing the iPod, I scooped up Reagan and told Keanan to come on let's go. I have put children's songs on my iPod to make the journeys in the van more pleasurable. Listening to childrens music all the while in the van is a small price to pay for your sanity of a non screaming child. Keanan is alright he will either fall asleep or read. At least the songs are catchy and all the while a little voice coming from the back, "Mommy". "I am daddy" says I. Not so bad.</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> The drop off of the purse went quick. I was mad, but I would and will get over it. Back home I put the pizza in the oven and we ate dinner After dinner we watched TV and the Keanan and Reagan played mini hockey. I heard Keanan yell, "She's going to hit me!" I came out into the kitchen and he ran by me with Reagan in tow, stick raised over her head squealing. She would of hit him too and with great pleasure. As she ran by I plucked the stick from her hand and told her no hitting. She just toddled of into the from room. No skin off her back, she would wait patiently for another chance. Half an hour later I heard Keanan again screaming and giggling saying no, don't throw it. I walked into the hall and she had a ball cocked back with the devils smile on her face. Looking at me she said "Mommy". "Daddy" I corrected as I took the ball from her hand and spanked her away. </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> The rest of the night was uneventful. I put her pajamas on and read her a story. </span></span><br />
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">"Mommy"</span></span><br />
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">"No I'm daddy."</span></span><br />
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">Laying her down for sleep I beat a hasty retreat out of her room, off with the lights and down the stairs. She fussed for about 15 to 20 minutes and then nothing. After my smoke I came into Keanan playing football on the PS3. I heard the announcer say safety and I laughed. He told me that he let them get a safety so they could play in overtime. There was 2 minutes left. What if they come down and score</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Then I will go down and score. The raiders marched down the field and were ready to kick a field goal with 50 seconds left. Fortunately they missed. The Keanan came back up the field and I missed the field goal so it was on to overtime.We won it in overtime. Keanan isn't too good with the kicking so I do it. Keanan was put to bed then I put myself to bed at midnight. First night......not so bad.....</span></span><br />
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<span class="maintext"><span class="firstword">It</span>
was the noise Of ancient trees falling while all was still Before the
storm, in the long interval Between the gathering clouds and that light
breeze Which Germans call the Wind's bride.</span><br />
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Charles Godfrey Leland<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-33316360052726235432013-01-11T13:17:00.001-05:002013-01-11T13:17:09.811-05:00The Top Ten... Nah. What do you need a "Top Ten" for? Is your life so abysmal that you need some hack to pump out a top ten list? They never go anywhere. They have maybe three good points and the rest is filler. It should be a top three list, but who is going to read that? "That isn't a top anything list. We aren't going to listen to that guy. He can't even come up with ten ways why we should listen to him. Let's not listen to him. Who can tell us a top ten something? We need to be told what to do and put it in top ten form or we cannot understand it!" Ok. you asked for it.<br />
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The Top Ten Reasons Why You Are Stupid <br />
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10. Because you are. Let's face it if you need a top ten anything you are a creature of pop culture. Your brain has been annihilated. You can't do anything without the Television(TV) telling you what to do. You survive by what people tell you to do and feel. It is sickening really.<br />
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9. You drive stupidly. In my job I drive around all day. From subdivisions, main streets, and industrial sections I see it all. You don't signal and when you do, the right blinker is on and you turn left. You slow down when your talking on your cell phone. When you're in a parking lot you lose your mind. Driving 90 m/hr across all the spots, not watching for pedestrians and not parking within the lines.<br />
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8. You buy beer instead of food for your children<br />
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7. You pay too much attention to celebrities. Who cares where they have eaten or what jewelry they are wearing? They don't care about you. Most of the stuff they act in is crap anyways. How many impossible missions can there be? He survives every one. How "impossible" can it be? If we ignore them hopefully they will just go away.<br />
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6. Just because you have money and are famous doesn't mean you are right or we want to know your opinion. No vaccines do not cause autism. Drinking water from plastic bottles don't give you cancer. Who gave these people money and fame so that we have to listen to their crap? You are stupid for enabling them.<br />
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5. Just because these numbers are descending doesn't mean that any of them are more important then the other. I did not state at the beginning that one number is more important than the next. You figure it out. I can't do everything for you. Counting down is just cool.<br />
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4. You don't have any kids. Not the people that want kids, but can't have them for whatever reason. No, the people that are selfish and don't give your parents grandkids or cousins and the such. Who is going to come see you when you you are old and alone<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> You will be just alone. They are so cute when they are young and they love and need you. It makes you feel wonderful to be loved and needed. Conversely, the ones that have too many kids and are neglected because you have too many or shouldn't have kids, I know it's trite, but close your legs. I have seen boxes of condoms in the dollar store. Use them.<br />
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3. You whine that you are "the good guy" and that is why you don't have a girlfriend. No one cares. I am sure if you hear someone else complain about the same thing, you don't care. Good guys do get girls(though I think I am one of the dicks). Considering you probably aren't one of "the good guys" because you are lying about your feelings to the woman you desire. Good guys are not deceitful.<br />
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2. I don't know. I think all my points are valid. There is no filler here. Ahhhh, good one you have got me there. Maybe there is hope for you yet. Hmmm? Probably not.<br />
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1. If you have read any one of these reasons and have not understood any of them or think there is nothing wrong with doing any of them then you are Emperor Stupid.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-65202798440535740732013-01-10T22:54:00.000-05:002013-01-10T22:54:38.097-05:00Nights Out When I was Younger. Youth. Full of vigor and know-it-all. Innocence and good spirits. Drunken mayhem. I reckon all of you have had your moments when it comes to alcohol. That weird first feeling you get when you approach drunkenness. The light head, the smile that easily appears on your face. The mischief you get up to. The horrible horrible mornings after of throbbing headaches. They are consoled though by nice greasy breakfasts filled with slow movements and lots of coffee. Just to start again Saturday night. There will be plenty of time to sleep it off on Sunday, but watch out if it is a long weekend, that Sunday gets pushed back to Monday. That's ok, though. The weekend is here Monday or Tuesday will look after and worry about that. Right now. It's time to go to the Pit or the Cottage, any bar, the Shack, the Party Barn, Let's get wasted.<br />
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It was great to have somewhere to crash when you were up to no good. A bed to sleep in was even better. Melissa(Mike's girlfriend) had a cottage on pigeon lake near Bobcaygeon. For three summers in our teens it was like we lived there every weekend. At least that is how I remember it. We could arrive whenever. Usually on a Friday night, if not, Saturday for sure. We would sit around a fire and drink. Sit inside and drink. We all got along rather well so there wasn't fights or too many blow up. Just mayhem, especially if some one was sober enough to drive. Sober enough meant you didn't have anything to drink. The odd time we would walk. I am more apposed to this now then I was way back then. One night we walked a couple of miles to a golf course. The next day the cottage was adorned with two flags. One from the sixth hole and the other from the ninth hole. We also liked to go into town at two in the morning to get something to eat. The only place that was open was Tim Horton's . We would get sandwiches and coffee. Coffee was a good choice I think. What better way to end the night is to drink a stimulant so you can stay awake longer to drink? While ordering my food I would pull down the back of my pants so that only my friend and the people behind me could see. They would snicker at my bare ass. I don't know why it was so funny. Wait. Yes I do. Live bum is always funny.<br />
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We used to frequent bars a lot when we were young. We all lived in the country, so we had to drive a ways to hit the bars. This also meant that one of us had to stay sober. It was rarely me. This may sound odd, but at first we went to bars to dance. Yes dance. Of course we would drink too, but dancing was also a big part. There was something about hearing a great song at an almost ear splitting volume. It made you move your feet, with arms and body soon following, jumping up and down like a tribesmen. Then it moved to just drinking. I have gotten into a little trouble whilst drinking. No fights though. That was left to Steve and Mike. I have been thrown out of the same strip joint in Whitby twice. It was a hot summer Friday and we had just gotten off work. We went to the Lion and the Unicorn to eat and drink some sweet beverages. During my meal I downed two pitchers of ale. Smoking and finishing our drinks on the patio someone(probably me) suggested that we go to the Royle, the local strippers. All in agreement, we set off. Once in to this...interesting establishment we procured some more tasty beverages and sat right up front of the stage. We must of pissed off some of the strippers because we barely acknowledged their existence talking rather loudly. That is about all I could remember until one of my mates tapped me and said, "wake up, Jer. They're gonna throw you out." Apparently I had fallen asleep in the front row facing the stage. Sure enough one of the Bouncers came over and asked me to leave. The poor girl on the stage. No one was watching you. That had to damage her self esteem. Or maybe it was that I was asleep and couldn't buy anymore drinks. Whichever. I will save the other time I was kicked out for another time. Maybe when I can piece it together.<br />
<br />
Mainly it would be just silliness and a little petty theft. Silliness like, drinking at the Royal York in Lindsay. When we were leaving we were all hungry so we thought we would hit McDonald's. I wanted a Mcflurry. We sauntered in. When it was my turn in the queue I walked up and ordered a plain Mcflurry. Plain? A plain Mcflurry would consist of just vanilla ice cream. Why not just order a sundae? It would of been cheaper. So they gave me my plain Mcflurry. Probably thinking drunk idiot. Oh, they haven't seen anything yet. After receiving my Mcflurry I turned to my friends and other patrons and asked, "would Superman eat this?" Turning to the McDonald employees, "Would he?" Then spun, waltzed out of there not even looking back. On the way back to the van I thought it would be hilarious to climb the fence and shake it violently. My friends coaxed me down and we were on our way home. Superman wouldn't of eaten it because it just stayed in the cup holder all the way home.<br />
<br />
One night after drinking in a bar in Lindsay we went to the Country Style to drink some coffee and smoke. Mike and I were drinking at the bar while Steve stayed sober to ferry us around. In the donut shop Mike and I drank our coffee and talked up Steve that he was the drunkest of us all and we bragged that he was driving us all home. We left there and were off to the gas station. Steve fueled up and Mike and I went into the store to get some snacks. When we emerged from the store two cruisers had boxed Steve's car in and were administering him a breathalyser test. He passed. He had not touched a drop. The cops then turned to Mike and asked if he was driving. "no." Mike said as he slid into the passenger seat. "You<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?" they had pointed at me. "Nope." I said with a faint grin and climbed into the back seat. They let us go. We never thought anyone was going to phone the cops on us because we knew Steve wasn't drunk and well...we were drunk. So they phoned us in. Good for them and we laughed about it all the way home.</span></span><br />
<br />
I am not sure how to end this. These are definitely not all the stories or how many adventures we had. I guess i would have a whole book if I did that. Maybe more will come, when I remember them. I remember waking up with cracked ribs, but not too sure on how I got them. Some adventures were with or in cars and pissing off friends. Don't worry they are still friends today. Yah, that is enough for now. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-6416323004106625372012-12-24T09:58:00.002-05:002013-11-17T21:16:09.772-05:00Merry...Happy...Holiday? I have always thought it should be Merry Christmas during the holidays, but not anymore. Now you ask any of my close friends and they will back me up saying I am the least politically correct individual. Like those green big headed aliens should go back to Muskar-6. They can't drive and they can't metabolize salt. Losers. Or the fuzzy cuddly Mino cats. They don't even speak English. Getting back to the point, I figured, why say Happy Holiday, it's Christmas? It's our holiday. Why should we bend to a few people who don't celebrate Christmas and say Happy Holiday? They get off the same days as us and they don't even observe Christmas. So we should be able to say whatever we want...right?<br />
<br />
Yes and no. Yes we should be able to say Merry Christmas to whomever we want, but you should think a little. That family from Sri Lanka do you think they celebrate Christmas? Probably not. So slapping them with a Merry Christmas every time you see them must be annoying. What if they bugged you that it was Diwali the Festival of Lights? You would probably grumble and say something derogatory under your breath. Maybe that is what they do after you leave the room. <br />
<br />
Even if the person you are saying Merry Christmas to is white they could be Jewish and I am pretty sure they don't believe that Christ was the messiah. Or worse yet it could be an atheist and it could be one of the ones that think you're interested in hearing how Christ isn't real and that it was just a pagan holiday....blah, blah, blah. Do they think parroting something back that they read on the Internet makes them sound or are smart? Some of these douche bags are as bad as those Christians that try to force religion down your throat. Can't they see that they are identical? And they hate each other so much.<br />
<br />
You see on TV that they always say Happy Holiday. They don't want to alienate their potential costumers and lose money by saying a simple greeting. Is that what you are mad at? You see Happy Holidays on TV a lot? TV? How old are you? Can you think a little? When has TV ever had its thoughts on tradition and value? It's on money. Relax. Don't get riled up by what they are doing on television. You will just fuel their bright fire. Ignore it from time to time. You'll find you will have a less stressful time. <br />
<br />
You should be nice. Isn't saying Happy Holiday a nice thing to say, instead of segregating people<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[145].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:876713861563:63_3698195}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[145].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:876713861563:63_3698195}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[145].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:876713861563:63_3698195}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">?</span></span></span> Is that what you are trying to promote at this time of year? Not rage at some one saying Happy Holiday? Personally I think you should try to be nice all year around instead of just at Christmas. So what? Right after Christmas you should go kick some dogs and burn down an orphanage? Maybe instead of worrying what to say to greet someone during the darkest time of the year you should worry about how you are going to help your fellow man or how you are going to treat your family at this wonderful time of year.<br />
<br />
Seasons....Merry.....Happy....err good luck, <br />
<br />
Jeremy<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-28736914523412229442012-12-14T22:35:00.001-05:002013-09-15T22:48:34.753-04:00No, He Wouldn't Of Done Anything It will be trite to talk about, but I was actually thinking about this yesterday when I was working near a daycare. Watching those cute little kids wondering around in their caged little area. Pink snowsuits waddling because they are too bulky and their little muscles aren't that strong yet. Watching them play and talk to each other. No matter how bad of a day I am having, if I see children it brightens my day. Their innocence. How happy they are. Why are they happy <span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? </span></span></span>Who cares. They are happy because everything is making them happy. A truck, a doll, the fence. We should be happy at anything too. Then a stray thought. "Who would ever hurt children<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">?" </span></span></span> They have not done anything as terrible as you and I may have. They just want your love and to hold or snuggle in with you from time to time and you love them. Not because you have to, but because you want to and they easily make you. You would do anything for them. They need a kidney. "Ok, take mine," They need bone marrow, "I have too much so there ya go." Your life is forfeit for your childs'.<br />
<br />
Then news like today reaches your ears and eyes. Several children killed at a Connecticut school. All you have to do is put one of your kid's face on one of the slain children or a child you know and your heart breaks even further. At first it is shock, then you feel rage at the individual who killed these innocent babes(I will come back to this later). Then you read that the former Governor of Arkansas Mike Hukabee says<cite> </cite>the crime was no surprise because we have "systematically removed God" from public schools. .<a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/seattlepolitics/2012/12/14/absence-of-god-from-schools-to-blame-for-killings-huckabee/" target="_blank">Seattle Post</a><br />
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God<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? </span></span></span>Removed<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? </span></span></span>Yes If only God was still in the schools. He would of done something right<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">?</span></span></span> Just like he helped the people of Japan with the tsunami or the people in New York and surrounding area during tropical storm Sandy and every day of the countless men, women and children that are abused and killed ....er....wait does that sound right<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? No it doesn't. This magical man hiding in the clouds does nothing and don't give me "God only helps those who help themselves". Tell that to one of the parents who has a dead child. Never will they see their child again. Never. Now wouldn't you do anything for your children</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? And if we are Gods children then why didn't he or ever protect us</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? Is there a God> I doubt it. The is no scientific proof. And whether you think science is great or not, just remember what you are reading this on. There might be a higher power out there, but not one that adheres to the religious dogma that is preached all over the world. I would love for nothing more than to see all my relatives and dead pets in heaven when I die, but I know that probably won't happen. Why do I think this</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? Because God is supposed to be every where and if </span></span></span> the magic man can't stop a simple shooting of innocent children then how can there be a kingdom in the clouds. He can't even give rain to people who pray for it. How is he supposed to keep all the people who have ever died around in one place</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">?</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]"> Hell. You want one because you would love to know that the shooter is going there, but did you know that some religions(christian) believe that unbaptized people would go to hell</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? I wonder if any of the children killed today in Connecticut were baptized</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? Sounds like the perfect job for the magic man to save them and wait to harvest their souls until after they are baptized, but he's not allowed in school.....but he's God can't he do anything</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? Apparently not. Children who aren't taught about God or old enough to learn about God are basically Atheists. I would try to protect these children, but would God</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? Remember if you have children or a baby right now they didn't or don't know about God either and if they had of passed what would of happened</span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">? </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[99].[1][2][1]{comment33206428:873740160883:63_3673245}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]"> I would never advise saying this to the parents of the dead children. They don't need to hear that, but I also don't need to hear how God would of fixed everything. Your God can't and hasn't fixed anything. So instead of praying to this guy to help people he can't and will never help. Spend that time with your children or people you love. I am going to hear about how my son is rushing for another touchdown in the house or my daughter cry for Buzz and Woody as you finish a story and lay her down to sleep. Not for help I will never receive.</span></span></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-2174874602776354922012-10-20T09:55:00.000-04:002012-10-20T09:55:03.886-04:00The Portrayal Betrayal Everyone on the planet sees things differently than everyone else. It might be fractionally different, but still there is at least a difference. I like chocolate ice cream and so does Megan, but I also like pralines and cream and she would rather eat dead bugs. Most of the time people are entitled to there own opinions even if they are wrong, Some people like abstract art and think it's genius. That is their deluded stupid opinion and that's how they foolishly perceive the world. Megan and I perceive the world in different ways too. Hers is more cynical and having fun at others expense.<br />
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Watching the evening news one night the anchor was bringing us a story and he must of been the bane of Megan's existence because she said, " what is this nerdlinger going on about<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span>" the nerd was wearing glasses. I shuddered at what she must think of me. The "nerdlinger" was going on about a bunch of refugees in some middle east country. They went to one of them and he was describing on how they were on the run from some war. "Loser.Get a job" she told the man in tattered clothes and then giggled at how funny she was. A little harsh I thought, but I laughed a little. It's best to give her attention because if you don't and she notices it, she will do everything in her power to get that attention. She will just keep going and going until I acknowledge her. One time I didn't laugh at one of her stinging little quips she harangued me to no end. "That was gold, baby. Pure gold." she waved her hand. "Ah, my friends would think that was hilarious."<br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Driving
is an even better treat. Sitting behind someone turning left and there
is obvious room for the person to go and they don't, she'll say "C'mon
fatso you're driving not walking so move it!" It is even worse following
a guy that is going slow. "I would think someone would wwant to get
home fast to see their boyfriend." as she grips the steering wheel hard.
More than once I have had to yell at her to warn her of someone ahead
who is braking or turning and she is fust looking around everywhere but
the road, Then there are the times she stops at a red light and looks
both ways then goes through. I will ask, "What are you doing</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?" and she'll just laugh, "Oh yah."</span></span><br />
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Once sitting down at McDonald's at lunch with Megan and Reagan we noticed a man with a cane crossing the parking lot. He was having a hard go, but he managed and easily maneuvered up the one stair. He looked like he was alone when he sat down behind us, but Megan noticed. The next time I looked there was a rather large woman sitting with him. Megan had seen that I noticed and piped up."Yah, we didn't see her. She must have just flew in." She has a ton of little observational quotes: "Look at those greasy Italians.", Drunken Irish potato blanker.", "Is that a Brit or a horse<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?" or even seeing a truck buried in a snow bank, "You stunned newfie." And don't get on her bad side. Every year a parade goes by just south of our house and she doesn't like how it blocks traffic in and out for a couple of hours. It keeps her from going out and getting her hockey cards. Well this year she has a plan to get back at them. A couple of weeks before the parade she asked out neighbour Bill and my father for some live traps. She used then around our house and out in the woods near Darlington Park. The night before the parade she stashed the filled traps in the brush in Rundle Park which lines the parade route just south of our house. When the parade was in full fling she went down there and released the traps. Four scared skunks ran from their prisons and out into the middle of the parade. People were screaming like they were shot and the smell. She was happy for weeks after.</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Now this all seems pretty harsh , but it must be told. </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> DISCLAIMER!!!!</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">The preceding statements may or may not have been true and I cannot confirm nor deny that the roles were reversed to protect the truly guilty. I can't be held accountable for my writings and or my actions. What is this, Canada</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-31764125927127374392012-10-18T13:16:00.001-04:002012-10-18T13:16:46.642-04:00Things You Think Of Just Before You Fall AsleepThe covers lay loosely upon you, not tucked in. God, you feel held down if they're tucked in. Your head has sunk in to the pillow. Darkness surrounds you. You sink deeper and deeper in to your mattress. You feel like you are getting heavier but your body feels like it is expanding; reverting to a sub atomic form, becoming infinite. The Specter of sleep reaches from his dark abyss to pull you down and you welcome it, sinking deeper into the bed. Your brain cunning and quick, moves against you. "Did I lock the front door?" Reality snaps back in and you open your eyes. Looking around in the dark you search your mind to see if you did lock the door. Throwing the covers off you head downstairs. Great.<br />
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Sleep is wonderful, but why does your brain conspire against you from time to time? I mean your brain does it every night to you(conspire). It paralyzes you and forces you to watch various dreams ranging from: fighting your way out of thirty pirate ninjas with books to laying in a sun drenched meadow with all the Care Bears. So why does it also make you think of stupid little things just before you fall asleep?<br />
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Laying in bed in our new home for the first time Megan and I were all ready for sleep. Drifting towards it there was a sudden pop. Like when someone is walking across the floorboards. It was so quiet that each of the pops were like rifle blasts. Of course it was just the house settling. Some of you think that maybe it was a ghost, but no. There are no such things as ghosts. You have never heard or seen one. The sound we heard was just the wood in our house expanding or contracting. Houses are heavy and the ground is always moving and shifting. Therefore the house pushes and pulls down on the wood or beams or maybe something as simple as air escaping the wood. You have never seen a ghost either. It is just light or shadow or an animal, your brain makes up a lot of stuff you can't quite see of fully interpret. Your brain gathers what your eyes sees and tries to make sense of it. It looked like an arm so it must of been an arm. It tries to form something, you just think it's unexplainable so you instantly go for ghost. If I was a ghost I would be doing everything I could to scare people and get them to freak out. I would appear to them. I would make a rock float before your eyes. Hell, if I was a ghost I would wander onto a news program and pants the weather man, Then shove the anchors papers down his throat. There are a lot more worse people dead than I. They would of tried worse and you would have seen it by now. But you can tell your children there are ghosts, it's fun to scare children.<br />
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Other things happen just before you fall asleep. You start thinking will I have a good or a bad dream<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span><br />
Or will it be the crazy dream<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> The dream where when you go through a door you are in a different place. I was in a lavish library. Dark hardwood floors with red carpet runners, two stories of tomes you could access with a ladder that slides across the width, a second story balcony enclave with a marble floor. When I went to leave, I went through and door and I was in a field with roman columns. The next instant I was on a round hay bale fighting Darth Vader. When I first entered it was a bright sunny day, but now it was foggy, but a brown fog. Then it seemed I had enough of the fight with Darth Vader and decided I wanted to fly. Unfortunately I was still in the brown fog, so I saw nothing but fog. All I needed to do was think about flying and I did. Soon though, I was falling. My bright idea to save myself was to stick out an arm, then I just woke up.<br />
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The next instance is: I think,: what is it like just before you fall asleep<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? What happens</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Because one moment you're calming down and your brain is easing and then you wake up and it's the next morning. Is there a switch</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? I lose grip on what I am thinking just before I fall asleep. Everything shuts down. I stop thinking about anything. It"s weird. Tomorrow I have to get up at six and go..to..180 King st .and....nothing you just stop, then you're awake the next morning. If I start thinking about the time when I start to trail off thinking to the time I fall asleep. I start thinking even more and harder. I am up. I am up just like I had a shot of caffeine. Great. Then I try to capture that moment of when I go to sleep. I try to commit it to memory so I will remember what it is like so I don't do this ever again, But this never happens. I just start thinking about other stuff. Like, will the dog finally kill me in the middle of the night by flopping down on my chest instead of my legs</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? What was that noise</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Did that boat in the painting just move</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? And those eyes in that picture, did they just blink</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? What is this, Scooby-Doo</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Mmm sleep......Alarm</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Dammit!</span></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-12588692169152185792012-10-14T22:54:00.002-04:002012-10-23T21:16:11.302-04:00In Accordance With My Prison Release No, not really. I have never been to prison and never want to. Actually that isn't true. I have been to Warkworth Penitentiary, but just to locate telephone cables and gas services. It was quite interesting. Of course I had to have ID and two guards had to escort me around to protect me just in case anyone was going to or wanted to "shank" me and maybe see if I wasn't bringing in contraband or trying to "spring" anyone. Ha! Yah, Jeremy Magee Prisoner Liberator or heroin mule. I think not. The guards at the front gate said if I am not out by noon the place goes into lock-down for an hour where no one can get in or out. Great. If that happens, I will come out with a tattoo and maybe a fear of the outside world after my spell in the "big clink". Unsure how to get along in the free world. Needless to say I was out well before noon. One of the contractors that was there walking around outside of the penitentiary with me said make sure you locate the cables right on because the inmates will go nuts if they don't have their TV. Really<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> TV<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> Thos<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">e</span></span><br />
pricks are in jail for breaking whatever law they broke and they get TV all day<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? I</span></span> have an HD antenna. Free TV. We didn't want to pay cable and satellite for garbage programming. The HD antenna is great. I only really miss TSN. But these inmates get cable. Such is Life in a Federal Prison.<br />
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Never. Never would I do something that would end me up in jail. I enjoy doing whatever I please whenever I please. Like right now I could go out to the store and get some smokes or buy some lottery tickets. Go to bed in my comfy big bed, go to a baseball game, watch my son and daughter in whatever misadventure they have gotten me into and not go to the bathroom where everyone can watch. Maybe I can understand a crime of passion, where you lose your mind for a bit, but not think, "Hey . I'm going to knock over a bank." and think that is a great idea. No. No it is not. Baking biscuits for a snack is a good idea. Baking up some Meth isn't one.<br />
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Standing before his parole board, Jeremy trembled a little inside. Showing fear could be mistaken for lying or being deceptive. He had answered all the questions put to him honestly and thought things were going to turn out well. He hoped. Putting your fate into someone else's hands was hard. You didn't know what or how they were thinking. If they believed you, had a bad day or just didn't like your face. He knew they had come to their decision when their heads pulled apart and their gazed leveled upon him. "You are granted parole and you must meet these condition whilst on parole." The one in the middle looked at me square and said,<br />
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"First, You have to stay away and not watch any reality shows".<br />
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Done<br />
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"Second, You must write a blog, at least twice a week."<br />
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Done.<br />
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"And third. You must enjoy your family and do your best to stay happy."<br />
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Done. This was going to be easy. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-48144525223135567102012-10-13T22:27:00.001-04:002012-10-15T14:14:26.790-04:00Blog and VlogA couple of weeks ago I ventured into the terribly exciting world of Blogs, I still don't know what blog stands for and I am not going to look up what it means either. For all intents and purposes it could mean battery log or even bacon log. Mmm I like that one. It sounds more appealing. Where is my sandwich...? If I had to venture a guess, it would of been a loser named Bobtana who liked Star Trek and thought it would be cool to write down his thoughts like a captains log. You know what would be cool? If Bobtana's name was Brutus or Banjo. Or maybe some Buttwad wanted to convey his/her thoughts and would hope that there are some idiots out there stupid enough to read the crap(Dear valued readers, I assure you that I do not consider you idiots. I believe you to be in the 90 percentile of intelligence...love, Jeremy) Well this Buttwad has some stories and thoughts to convey so you idiots get ready. <br />
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A blog. A way to tell people what is going on in this 3/4" concrete skull of mine. Well, almost. Will people read it? I hope so. Everyone has an ego and enjoys it being stroked. The next one is will people like it? I am sure that people will like it, my Mommy and Megan tell me I am funny or was that handsome? No, that's the dog. Nuts, I'm in a lot of trouble. It seems pretty easy. It's like writing essay's back In high school. Except this is interesting and something I want to do. No, let's read Shakespeare because the style and spelling is so relevant to today. It just seems like if a stupid person wants to feel and sound smart all they have to do is quote Shakespeare. I am not going to quote him so relax, unless you count "the" and "is". Though thanks for giving me something to write about(English class). And I was taught essay's to prepare me for this. I guess there is some useful things in school. I write this not to become famous, but just to write and I hope that others may enjoy the stories or little activities that go on around the house. Not all of them, I plan on the blog being G-rated. For right now it is easy to come up with the titles and the guts that lay within. The world opens up and there is an inexhaustible well of stuff(for lack of a better word) and I try my best to paint what it shows me. If I was really painting it it would be just sticks. I am a horrible artist.<br />
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Vlog. This I know. It's a video log. Why anyone would put their face on camera on purpose is beyond me. They are so vacuous, "I like stuff, ya know. And Brittany said that Sabrina was like yah for sure and sometimes I can pass a 36" long tube right through one ear an' out the other and nuthing happens. Well, I giggle a little." The guys are not much better. "Yah! I killed 50 dudes today, Bra's! (explicative) Yah! Then I looked up chicks cause I couldn't possible talk to a real one face to face cause that would constitute going outside and getting my thumb out of my ass!" Well, they aren't all like that....I'm sure... You may say the reason I wouldn't do a Vlog is because I am too ugly to be on camera and would cause children to cry and pregnant woman to have their babies early. You might be right, but I like to think that Video can be used for so much more precious things. Like your son riding a bike without training wheels for the first time. Or your daughter screaming with utter joy in the leaves for the first time like it was a Christmas present she has always wanted.<br />
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I only have a little advice for this, not Vlogs, but Blogs. Vlogs, Who cares<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span><span class="userContentSecondary"><span class="fcg"></span></span></span> Keep spitting out your nonsense about what cheese is better than which or who you hate and what he wrote about you(in general) in his Blog. Just because you can't articulate what you are thinking into writing doesn't mean you have to punish the rest of us, It's easy, words and punctuation. I will even help you. Just highlight all of what you have written and delete it, and go back to whatever empty thoughtless thing you were doing. Uhm...Oh, yeah. Sorry for the digression. The only advice I could give you about Blogs would be not to be dark. Dark is easy, anyone can think of bad thoughts. Try making someone happy or laugh...or worse yet,think<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-15252341793235230942012-10-10T10:37:00.000-04:002012-10-24T13:10:46.885-04:00Written From An IPodSuch great little wonders. Listen to music, podcasts(that is the one I really enjoy), play a game, use an app for scheduling or whatnot. Type a whole blog? Could you imagine? In your wildest dreams. As a kid laying in bed staring at the ceiling dreaming of hammering out a blog on a music player? No! Who cares?!! Obvious someone thought of this, but it pales in comparison to so many other feats of human achievement. The car, airplanes, even the music player itself, filled with hundreds of songs. But to type out a blog on it. Big deal.<br />
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I got my little gem off of kijiji from a teenage girl in Courtice. No, I didn't beat her up for it. It cost me $90. I thought that was a great deal. A fourth generation iPod touch. I save over $100. And worth every penny. Of course I knew about apps, but to experience them first hand was cool. The games are neat. The prices for music, games, and apps are mainly reasonable. Podcast are my favorite though. Listening to something I really want to know about instead of inane dj chatter or news radio is wonderful. The same crappy music over and over again? No thanks. Give me Skeptics Guide To The Universe, Mohr Stories, Sklarboro Country or Skeptics With A K. <br />
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Typing on this thing is interesting. It has taken my four nights to pound out this blog piece. The keyboard is pretty good. Most of the time my fingers hit the correct key, but every once and awhile my fingers would mash a couple of key or just the wrong key all together. A sentence that goes like this would end up like this: "A sentebce that gioes like this would e nd like tyis". Not bad, but when you have to go back and correct every seven words or so it is a little tedious. I guess it's the consequence of having big fingers. As Megan would make fun of me, but I think I would look odd with dainty little hands at six foot four.<br />
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This blog isn't going to be a long post. I don't have the patience to write on anything as small as an iPod for very long. The screen is too small for constant viewing. I don't understand how the snot noses can spend all day watching Lady Gaga on this thing. And my neck and arm is getting tired hammering on this thing. It is good to have around for jotting down ideas whenever and just before I go to sleep. Those ones make for an interesting read the next day. "Sometimes tuna isn't the hamburger with the eyes and pearls through a neck brace"...Ok. <br />
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Besides I have a lot of important work to do around this couch. If I don't do it who will? Aww, I just thought of something. This screen is only about two inches wide. I have probably only written enough for a comic strip. Screw it and to hell with ya. My hero trophy needs polishing.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-68862187531564803552012-10-09T22:52:00.004-04:002012-10-09T22:52:55.237-04:00Addendum to: I Find I Am Not The Funniest In My House Anymore Sitting outside having a cigar and looking on the internet(Phew! It is still there), I could hear Reagan screaming. I had thought she had went to bed. Guess she is having a bad night and Mommy couldn't be having a good one either considering she was supposed to be doing yoga. I had finished and was coming inside to see what was wrong. The upstairs light was on and Megan was still doing yoga. "Get over here and see your daughter." Megan said laughing a little. That is when I heard, " Dad, Dad, Dad." Coming further into the house I could see Reagan was actually having a good night. While I was outside Reagan had decided she wasn't tired and needed up. Her face was purple. From left jawbone to right jawbone was blackberries, blueberries and strawberries. The berry trifecta. As I came into view her face split in a berry smile. "Ah!" she yelled at me. Meaning what<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">? I g</span></span></span>uess get the hell over here Dad! Sitting down beside her, she convulsed in glee. Screaming and chittering, pointing at everything, excited to be up. So this is what you guys do when I am asleep, she must have thought. Yup. sit and watch TV and try to relax. Exciting is it not<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">? Done with the screaming and chittering, she moves on to a great classic game. She throws a blackberry on the floor then points at it. I look down and notice there are other berries down there too. I pick up one and put it on her tray. She points at the others and says, "get that!" Oh, good. Now she is bossy like her Mother. And when I pick up the rest she squeals and tightens up her legs. Oh, what a great game! Then as quickly as this game has started it is over. "You and It are boring now, Dad." She wants down now. Possibly to grab Megans' Iphone or to press all the buttons on the remote control so that all the buttons light up. Sigh...</span></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[47].[1][2][1]{comment10151260597936605_9158033}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">Coming soon: Reagan Vs. .......... </span></span></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-91262674830906830132012-10-07T19:17:00.000-04:002012-10-07T19:17:44.040-04:00Try Really Hard Not To Come Up With Long Titles Have you ever been to an Ape Ghetto? Is there burnt out trees? Banana peels all over the place? A silverback passed out on the forest floor with a paper bag lying beside him? If you walk through are you mugged? I doubt it. You'd probably be killed or worse, maybe a silverback would capture you and pimp you out. When you don't bring enough bananas to him does he beat his chest and fling poop at you? A little derogatory, but what else do you do when you have fallen off Mt.Crazy and are still falling? Too many questions, but I don't think they will stop even if I could stop them.<br />
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It's Sunday and the toaster has ran away. Why? I dunno. Maybe he is mad that I don't take him into the tub with me. He's too shiny. I don't like his blue eyes staring me down and that scruffy face, he should know I have a razor . Lazy prick. And why does he get naked too to get into the tub. I enjoy taking my other buddies in to the tub, Crabberfish and Octerpuss. Other than that, Sunday was a good day. The sun started showering diamonds by mid afternoon. They weren't my colour, but I am sure other people enjoyed them. After that things started to settle down, the walrus's started their lengthy migration south. I knew this because a lot of them had sunglasses and those long fold up chairs on their back. The spaceship from Lokid came swooping by and asked if I wanted a ride. I politely declined, but inquired about Friday. They said sure and off they sped. Typical Sunday.<br />
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Sometimes if it gets hot enough I will eat cheeseburgers on a beach towel in my living room whilst watching Life On Mars. It's a good show. Looking out the window I see Cliff the double corned unicorn. Which would be a dicorn? Cliff is chasing the cat again. Running to the front door I yell, "Cliff! Get away from Sanford!" Mrs Grundy from across the road stares at me and drops her broom, sweeping done for the day I guess. Cliff puts down the cat and floats away on his cloud with rainbows firing out of it. Turning around I notice it is a little bit chilly. No pants . No shirt. No hat. Dammit. That's what Mrs Grundy is gaping at. I had forgot to wear a hat. Striding across the road she seems a little agitated. Letting out a tiny squeak, Mrs Grundy darts inside. I stop and wonder why she has ran away. Oh, it must be the cookies she is going to make me. "I will wait for you inside! Mmm. I can't wait." Then I remembered I did not have a hat on and scurried back inside. "No hat. You are quite the perv." I chuckled to myself. <br />
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Tree's whipped by me like grey poles thrown into the ground by a giant called Earl. Earl had done this last week so fear not that he is doing it today. He usually throws ice cream tubs. As fun as that sounds they really hurt. It killed me twice last week and broke five of my legs. The good ones too. I usually don't run. It makes me cough and I am not very fast, but I was looking for something. Was it my memory? No. That is always there. Pulling up, the trees quickly gave way to short grass. Not that short though, probably twelve inches making the field one large verdant pond. Jogging to a halt I could see what I was looking for. Sitting on a log one hundred yards from me, chittering. Using some language that I did not understand and probably dead for hundreds of years. Standing there I wasn't sure how to approach it. Long have I chased this demon never reaching it until now. Fear struck rigamortis upon my legs. The dark black thing scared me, but it had taken something I needed. Twitching it turned it's black eyes upon me. I had to move now. I couldn't say it smiled, but it did. A fiery rictus if I had ever seen one. With that it was off, scurrying away on all fours. I lost it, screaming. "Squirrel! Give me back that sanity! It is the last of what I had!" Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-47955255087175101282012-10-05T22:03:00.002-04:002012-10-05T22:03:26.868-04:00Things You Shouldn't Do I have lived awhile. Thirty six years as of this post. I have learned a little in that time, not a whole lot. Some of the lessons have been good, bad and interesting.. I reckon I still have a lot to learn. That is the fun thing: about learning. With out it what do you have Nothing<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> You might as well stop living if you stop learning. Maybe I have the formula for immortality: Always learn. It could look like this: 100%=L(S+Lf)\D+I. The only thing is I could never reach immortality with the stuff I have pulled. I will keep it clean and legal.<br />
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Let's see. As a child and as an adult I have never broken a bone(so far), but I have tried. At the age of around three(it's a long time ago I know this because I can say decades ago), I fell out of my childhood homes' front window as the house was being built. Not bad, six foot drop. Can't remember much, must have landed on my head. At about twelve, my sister and I were heading out the driveway on a bike ride when our handle bars locked. We kept going until we hit the ditch on the other side of the road. I went flying off my bike into the ditch. My chest impacted a stump about two inches in diameter then dragged across my chest. it was a perfect circle with a tail. It looked like a comet. M sister went unscathed. Punk. The winters were fun too. Behind the house there were hilly hayfields. Trudging back there with my GT Snowracer(a conveyer of ambulance rides if I ever knew one) and the four puppies our dog Belle had recently spawned. The snow wasn't that deep and it was packy, so very nice for sledding..At the back of the property was a good short tobogganing hill and just behind it was another hill full of bare hardwood trees. A good slalom coarse. Or so I had thought. Halfway up the hill I thought this would be a good spot to test out my slaloming skills. Halfway! I figured I would speed down twenty feet then turn about seventy degrees to the right and sail straight through to the other hill then down it. No problem. Fixing my gloves and toque I gripped the steering wheel. The puppies had just crested the hill. Ah, an audience to marvel at my GTing prowess, great. Lifting my boots from the snow and placing them on the skiies, I nudged myself forward. Twenty feet came fast. Before I knew it I was supposed to turn. If anyone out there has ever ridden a GT they would know how responsive the turning is. You need twenty five feet to turn. Realizing I wasn't going to make it around the corner I bailed. Not quick enough, genius. My right shin struck a tree. I don't know where the GT went. I spun my seventy degrees to the right and slid down the rest of the hill on my back, head facing down. Clutching my shin I groaned and rolled onto my side. Then something hit me in the other leg. Mmmm. There;s the GT. Writhing on my side in agony the puppies took their opportunity. They must have planned this coordinated attack. Running up from my legs to my head they swarmed me. Ripping off my toque before I could figure out what they were doing and then they were gone. Not like I could chase them in my state. I didn't find that toque until the spring thaw.<br />
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Another thing you shouldn't do is thinking your inflamed appendix is just bowel problems. It puts you through a lot of pain. So much that you lay in bed all day in the fetal position moaning. Then your mom has to drive you into the hospital and you walk into the emergency room doubled over. The first shot of moraphine after the coroner see's you(nice, right?) does nothing. The nurse that tries to put your IV in you has just graduated from Doctor Frankenstein's school of nursing. She finally got it in after a couple of minutes and a pint of blood later. Six hours later I was in surgery and six days later I went home. Fun experience, glad I only have one appendix. <br />
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Little things add up too. No matter what anyone tells you, you can't fly. Knives are accedingly sharp. Uttering the words" I can make it" is ill advised. Gambling isn't smart either unless it's poker or football. Don't love anything when you're drunk and single, unless it's bed. One more time at Russian roulette. Stepping into a manger to escape a bull can have some dire consequences, especially when "stepping into the manger" consists of just moving in front of him. Never leave a person in a wheelchair facing the wall at a party or anywhere else for that matter. You shouldn't leave the blind person you are leading alone at a party, facing a corner or talking to a bathroom door. When walking through fields and beside beaver ponds always stay on the path behind your father. Venturing five feet out onto the ice in an arc makes for a cold March bath. Scaring up cattle and getting them to chase and encircle you is fun, but...<br />
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Just a few things you shouldn't do. Leaving out the drunken mayhem. Oh that mayhem It's been a fun thirty six years. Hopefully I don't learn anymore things I shouldn't do. Is that a double negative<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span>Does that mean I should do<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span> Whatever. What could go wrong<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? </span></span><br />
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. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-7438673022528038522012-10-02T20:21:00.002-04:002012-10-02T20:21:17.676-04:00Autumn The morning is brisk. Not cold enough yet that you feel those little pin pricks on the end of your nose. No wind, but it still feels fresh, even if you live in the city. Breathing deeply, cool air slides easily through your nostrils and fills your lungs. After the first deep breath your mind clears. The early morning fog rolls out from your frontal lobe back to your occipital lobe then through the back of your head. The last spectral finger taking away last nights dreams of how you had to save the Toaster from the evil grasp of Sir John Deere belt buckle in the land of Shag. The air is crisp enough to make your eyes water and feel the littlest pang of cold. For some reason it sharpened your vision. Ahhhhh, early Autumn<br />
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Autumn is the steady decline into the holidays. Here is where you can use decline as a good thing. First Thanksgiving with all the great foods and celebrating the harvest, the decadence. Food spread across the table trimmed in bright solid fall colours. Eating until you feel full and almost sick, but you can still cram dessert in there. Halloween. Little buggers dressed for begging for candy, which Dad has to check to see if it is suitable for his children's consumption. I am not saying I am a hero, but there is a plaque around here somewhere that I had made up. Then Christmas. snow, toys, cheer. There is more to say, but this is Autumn"s send up.<br />
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To me, Autumn is the best season. Driving through the country you see yellows and oranges brushes in great sweeping stokes across the hardwood copses, like soldiers with colorful plumes about their heads. The odd dissident evergreen or oak that hasn't turned yet still standing amongst them. All of them standing in defiance of their inevitable end. The reds standing out the most. Whether set in woods or standing alone set ablaze in one of the many tree lined roads. with branches outstretched across the road protecting any traveler who strides under these titans. Beautiful oranges roll into yellows on the hills that can be seen for miles. Up close the underbrush has died back enough for you to see the paths and leaves tumbling down. Hitting trunks on the way down spinning and floating until they gently come to rest on their fallen brothers and sisters.<br />
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The mornings are cool, but only cool enough to get away with just wearing a sweater or a light jacket. Then as the sun approaches mid morning the world warms like a smile watching youngsters play and explore the world. Figuring out for the first time that that leaf has fallen form that giant tree for their amusement and they stare in wonder and anticipation of the reaming eight hundred leaves to fall. Probably at once. By noon you have shed the sweater and are walking with more vigor. Everyone around you is enjoying the warm weather too. One of the few remaining times it will be warm this year and enjoying it like the heartfelt embrace of a friend or loved one. The nights are cool again, but that is perfect. Underneath the sheets all cozy and comfortable. Protected from the slight chill that is in the house because you don't want to turn on the furnace. Holding onto that thought like the last tendril of grass on the side of a cliff. Cool enough to sleep easy, no sweating. Like you should sweat just lying there. You aren't doing anything, just sleeping! C'mon summer!<br />
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Since leaving the farm, Autumn has always reminded me of life up there. The ever rolling verdant ponds of hayfields(only in the early Autumn).. Driving through the old lumber and forestry roads with a mix or a beer in the coffee holder. Looking for any wildlife or just enjoying the still ponds and lakes with granite outcroppings that are miles from any major road or anyone. The only thing disturbing the mirror like ponds are beavers noses zippering up the lake for the oncoming winter. Driving through the harvested fields to check the cattle or to feed them. Bouncing off the gofer holes and through the wheel ruts, "Watch the drinks!" Tours were what we called them. Slow paced weekends of visiting family and friends. Listening and regaling in tales of adventure and misfortune that was always fun and had a joke in there somewhere. Autumn is the literal and metaphorical relaxing season. Where you sit back, reflect and let the World churn on and you are happy to hitch a ride on it as it displays it's wonders and starts to reveal the next chapter.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-54720949180943842552012-09-27T19:58:00.000-04:002012-10-21T01:09:44.349-04:00Handsome Ha! If you thought i was referring to myself with that, no. The title is meant for a dog. Not just any dog. Angus. Growing up on a farm two hours north of Toronto, near Coboconk(don't make too much fun of it. Yah, I'm looking at you Dryhump). In the middle of Cottage Country. At the cusp of the Canadian Shield. Where the summers are cooled off in Shadow Lake. And the winters are full of snow so bright that on a moon filled night it is like day. It makes you feel like you know a deep happy secret. It reminds you of times of your youth. When you would go tobogganing with your friends around midnight with Crown Royale to help you keep warm. A good feeling in your stomach, like butterflies, but good. Then there are times when you would walk west to head for chores and the wind is blowing in you face, then you turn north and it is blowing in your face again! What war did I lose to endure this<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Wow. That was quite the digression. Where was I</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Yes. Living on a farm we always had dogs. There was Boot, Rip, Belle, and Homer. I loved every dog, but none of these dogs ever stayed inside all day let alone sleep inside. Then there was Angus</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Two years ago Megan started fretting about getting a dog. I kept saying no. I didn't want a dog inside and sleeping and slobbering all over me, but secretly I was going to give her money on her birthday to get her one. Well, her birthday came and one month later we went to go get Angus, the boxer. Megan found him on Kijiji from a family that just couldn't afford two dogs at the moment. Our fortune..Leaving with Angus was sad. He kept looking out the back window like "where are you taking me<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?My family is back that way." Well at least when we got home he took to Megan. He wouldn't leave her side and he would have nothing to do with me. Great. I really didn't want a dog. Now we have one and he doesn't even like me. Slowly he started to warm up to me. With the feeding of popcorn and other treats.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> He ran away twice. The first time was through the front window screen a week after we got him. A day earlier I scolded Megan for leaving the side window open saying, "he could get out that way." The next day I opened the front window a little because I thought it was stuffy in the house and a little enough so Angus could get out. Idiot. I told Megan this when I came home at lunch and she phoned animal services. Apparently a boxer was found, but the woman who took the call was out for lunch. Megan eventually came home to look for him. Eventually after the woman who had the info on the boxer returned from lunch. Megan phoned the girl that found Angus. He had been running down Park Rd. So, we met her at her apartment building and gave her $100 in reward. She didn't want it, but we made her take it. The second time he ran away Megan was walking Angus to the store. She tied him outside to the lottery sandwich board. A man freaked out Angus and he bolted down Park again with sandwich board in tow. We looked for him for four hours. This time he was gone for good. Instead of feeling sad we tried to rationalize that he didn't like it here that is why he kept running away. 5:00am. There was a bang at the back door.Megan got up and looked out the back door from our bedroom(which is on the second floor of our house) and said, "Damn cat"(a story for later). Settling back down frustrated and hoping that was Angus.Then there was another bang and she flew out of the bed and down stairs. I listened. There was a "click, click, click" across the floor and up the stairs and then that sad ugly face came up onto the bed, little tail and bum wagging. He had no collar which puzzled us. How did he lose this and get home</span></span></span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Was he captured then escaped</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">? Or did it just work off then he made his way home? No matter, the prince was home, and thus began our life with Angus</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> We did not get a dog we got another kid. He lays about the couch like he owns the place. Sometimes he lays on his back with his legs up in he air, like a dead animal on the side of the road. Oh, and his pillows, he lays his head on them and when he is sick of them he kicks each on of them off the couch.</span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> He whines at the back door for you to let him out and come out and play with him. Where he whines at you to throw something for him or he wants to growl and jump and bite you. Looking from the back window you see him playing with something then he snaps and tears around the backyard running in circles. When the kids are in the backyard and the neighbour kids too. He harasses them and follows them as if to say, "What now, guys</span></span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?" And don't grab one of the kids and say, "I've got him, Angus" He growls and tries and succeeds in biting you. What is funny is when I hug Megan and he doesn't like it. He growls and barks at Megan, "Let go of my Daddy." And who says lovin' isn't a punch in the bag the odd time from a Boxer<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">?</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> Now to bed and sleeping. He sleeps on our bed when he pleases. You hear him pacing back and forth judging the jump. Then he comes flying up and flops down on my legs or laying on my shoulder up by my head. My personal favourite is how he pushes me over to the edge of the bed and I have only half of my body covered. Getting up and going to work is a different story. when I come back in from the bathroom there he is lying on my pillow all curled up and comfortable. "I am the Daddy now. Go to work." </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> He sits very pretty and that is why I call him Handsome, and doesn't he know that he is.. </span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"> </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7553894984396421882.post-6893754966327360082012-09-26T20:40:00.001-04:002012-09-28T21:06:12.478-04:00What Are They Typing?<div class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
Is it lazines<span class="st">s? Were they never taught</span><span class="st">? Did they not listen or ever read</span><span class="st">?</span><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Now I can understand texting things like, "how r u</span></span></span><span class="st">?" or "l8r</span><span class="st">" there just colloquialisms,. their stupid, but it seems it's better to write quickly then think about what your typing.</span><br />
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<span class="st"> Now hopefully, you noticed that I made several grammatical errors, and if you didn't, I hope you learn something. People seem to type these without a care and the thought that they have used the correct word in the right place. It is odd how this aggravates me to no end or is it know end<span class="st">? </span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"> There, their and they're. All pronounced the same, but spelled different and mean different things. There is a reference to a place. Like, "She is over there" not here, but there. Their basically means belonging to(we'll get into the word just before the open parenthesis later) such as, "their grandmother is ninety years old." and finally they're is a contraction of "they" and "are"......that is all.</span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"> Then and than. The word "then" is a reference in time and progression, "He was walking down the street then stopped because he was struck on the head by a there then a their." "Than" is basically a contradiction and comparison. "Roy would rather die than live in a world of bad grammar." Or "I like you more than I like toasters".</span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"> Two, to and too. "Two" is just 2 not too(ohhhhh) many people screw that up. Moving on. "To" is a hard one to explain(for me anyways). "To" would be used as an adverb and a preposition. In the case of an adverb. "He is going to walk home." Walk being the verb. I originally wrote: "He is going to walk to the store." then I realized that I put a preposition "to" in there and thought even that was too much for me. The other way to use "to" is in preposition. like, "I am going to the store." a preposition links nouns and pronouns. "Too" is for adding a quantity. Such as, too much, too little or too far.</span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"> One last one is "a" versus "an". If you are going to use an "a" before another word that starts with a vowel, you use "an". For instance: an alligator not a alligator. The latter sounds stupid. Say it aloud. A alligator, ah ah. What are you doing<span class="st"><span class="st">? Warning a child not to stick a fork into an outlet<span class="st"><span class="st">? Ah ah! </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"> If you don't understand what I am trying to say then the chances are you do most of these grammar injustices. Don;t worry there are millions like you so you are not alone.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"><span class="st"> As a side note, I do all my editing. So any remarks on any mistakes, the irony will be lost on me. In short I won't care. If you want to improve your grammar I suggest this site: <a href="http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/" target="_blank">http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/</a> </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="st"><span class="st">She's better versed in the subject than I</span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09321495491024012401noreply@blogger.com0