<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026</id><updated>2009-11-13T12:27:53.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the latest slub</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>395</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-8345465939049322438</id><published>2009-10-01T02:23:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T02:38:26.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood: totally bitchin.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/3016900/Dave+Navarro+43845.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 303px;" src="http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/3016900/Dave+Navarro+43845.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I listened to &lt;a href="http://www.indie1031.com/include.php?pageid=czo2MjoiY3pvek5qb2lZM3B2ZUU5VWIybE1NMDV2WWpOa2VreHRSbnBqUkRrd1pWaENiRkJYU25CYWVVazNJanMlM0QiOw%3D%3D"&gt;Dave Navarro's show&lt;/a&gt; tonight. And I also joined the&lt;a href="http://6767mafia.ning.com/"&gt; live message boards&lt;/a&gt;. It was so totally like hanging out with my friends- every topic took a giant nosedive into the land of ridiculous inappropriateness. I learned there's a video of a lady having massive slukkies in a hot tub, saw some interesting pics of DN that even &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; could never find on the internet, learned that Dave thinks his therapist wants to pork him and got to hear Sandra Bernhard's new song. All while working.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-8345465939049322438?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/8345465939049322438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=8345465939049322438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8345465939049322438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8345465939049322438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/10/mood-totally-bitchin.html' title='Mood: totally bitchin.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-2460737903337195561</id><published>2009-09-23T03:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T05:30:13.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>$miler'$ Antiques</title><content type='html'>On the way home from Orlando Bosley usually cuts the drive a bit by stopping at some random place to browse or eat. Hilarity usually insues.&lt;br /&gt; I spilled a gigantic coffee (on the save) all over the counter at Dunkin Donuts. She insisted that they had NO towels.  Bosley and I are grabbing napkins out of the dispenser like mad...until I pop the whole thing open and grab handfulls of paper napkins to clean up the tidal wave of iced coffee. She stood there and watched. Bosley was apologetic I was about to write an email to DD telling them to get some ding dang rags. We both thought we were being punkd'. We stopped at this place to eat once just ordered like, 20 tiny yukky burgers and the power went out. They gave us 15 half cooked tiny yukky burgers and wouldn't let us leave. Bosley grabs Moby's latest cd and makes us listen to it in the van. No, no that's not hilarious at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so on our way home this time we're given the option to stop at this "really cool" antique store.&lt;br /&gt;"Hell yah!" I said as Cath follows it up with "owwhhallriggght."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we pulled in I was a little apprehensive I have to admit. I've seen set ups like this before...I didn't make it five steps into the door and I was fixed upon a vintage ring. It was the prettiest square cut gemstone set in this fabulous art deco style. I knew that I didn't have any money to spend on that kind of thing so I didn't even check how much it cost. I tore myself away and took a look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3946563719/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2538/3946563719_f966768dce_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;uhmmm okaaaayyy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started down the first aisle looking at prices of things that caught my eye.  &lt;br /&gt;Yah, it's one of "those" places. Tourist attraction vintage market. Booths rented out by "dealers" that aren't anywhere around. Prices so stinking high I'm not sure if anyone with a space was doing much $miling. They certainly weren't doing much money counting. Or booth re-stocking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take this as a personal challenge. I'm determined to find that one little thing that is priced (really) low and has style. It's the Scorpio/Virgo/Artist in me. I can't help it. &lt;br /&gt;And that is just what I did. More like that's what I thought I did, until I flipped my find around to see the ridiculous price affixed to the side. DAM. I wanted it so badly and I was convinced the price was under $10! I had to alert Cathy!&lt;br /&gt;I took my find over to her as she was looking at a full color,life size stand-up cutout of Peppermint Patty. Cut out of plywood. &lt;br /&gt;I showed her my find and the price tag. &lt;br /&gt;She showed me her find and the price tag on it.&lt;br /&gt;We looked at each other. Crookedly. "That thing is cut out of PLYWOOD not Granite right?" I said. &lt;br /&gt;She had me take a pic of her with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued on my way with my find in tow and spotted this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947343920/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3279/3947343920_ff219bab15_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE to have this. At least in my imagination."How much?" I asked to woman that was following me around. She had to go call the vendor. I don't know why I made her do that. Maybe it was unconsciously to get her off my tail because I wasn't ever going to pay $375 for a stuffed rattle snake with a bunk rattler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then I see this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947343988/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3192/3947343988_0846f274bc_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ItwouldbesoperfectinDS'shouse! But it wont. It will be perfect there. On that pegboard wall. Until the end of time with a price tag like that. I swear that I could go hunt my own for less. Who ELSE would want this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so fired up for no real reason and so I took my find to the counter. &lt;br /&gt;"I'll pay eight bucks for this."&lt;br /&gt;"She won't take eight dollars for that." the lady immediately said.&lt;br /&gt;I set my find on the counter and politely said "Then I don't want it." and went outside to get my phone. I was kinda upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cathy was sitting on the bench and told me that she just saw a lady walk outside and say to the man she was with "It's a bunch of overpriced JUNK!" &lt;br /&gt;So, not just MY experince? I'm just sayin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMDAMDAM!my find was so awesome! But I wouldn't even pay that much if I had some fun money to get rid of! I was pissed and beginning not to like this place. I sure wasn't $miling as I walked back in to find Bosley. I turned the corner and was faced with a wall of these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947344254/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2638/3947344254_964a0ded34_o.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; EEeeeeeeeeeeeKKKkkkkk!!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay. I'm officially delivering the inevitable to Bosley. We're ready to go. I'm not sure if I will be able to sleep for months now after seeing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found him knee deep in pristine Vintage Christmas records, and excited about it so I told him of my find let down and HEY! LOOK AT THIS RATTLESNAKE!! I really couldn't spoil his moment all too much. He gave himself ten more minutes. I agreed. Went back outside to talked with Cathy for a few minutes and realized that I didn't get a picture of my great find. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into the store again.&lt;br /&gt;As I walked in, the woman was wrapping up my find and handing it to Bosley along with all 50 of his Christmas records. &lt;br /&gt;I took it away from her, looked at Bosley, gave it back to her and said "No. no. Return this please." He was laughing at me as the woman and I played a little round of push and push back with the package.&lt;br /&gt;"Bosley, that's way too much for that! REALLY! THANK YOU! But PLEASE RETURN IT. return it?" &lt;br /&gt;So he bought it for me. He told me thanks for being a part of the team. &lt;br /&gt;I had a little bit of a hard time accepting it. I mean really, it wasn't a ton of money but still. "HOLY SHIT!THANK YOU BOSLEY! THANK YOU THANK YOU!" &lt;br /&gt;So the third time I walked out of there I was indeed, $miling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is this very fantastic find?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947344674/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3525/3947344674_d814143da1_o.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COOL HUH?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947344734/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2445/3947344734_1bffd1418e_o.jpg" width="279" height="400" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe! it's GIANT! I LOVE IT! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3946563311/" title="$miley'$ Flea Market by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3485/3946563311_e5110f63cd_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="$miley'$ Flea Market" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-2460737903337195561?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/2460737903337195561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=2460737903337195561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/2460737903337195561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/2460737903337195561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/miler-antiques.html' title='$miler&apos;$ Antiques'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-8526960654772621888</id><published>2009-09-23T03:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T03:53:38.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights of my latest trip to Epcot</title><content type='html'>1. 11 hours of meetings (let's just get that out of the way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3946562245/" title="Epcot 9/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3474/3946562245_4600332c81_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="Epcot 9/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Seeing this and thinking about it rolling away AGAIN. Want to make my experience magical? let that thing roll around the park a'la "The Prisoner!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947343388/" title="Epcot 9/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2600/3947343388_4c50acd346_o.jpg" width="400" height="284" alt="Epcot 9/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Cathy being coy about the fancy spaceship Robert rented for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3946562593/" title="Epcot 9/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2667/3946562593_cec0b58bcb_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="Epcot 9/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The Tequila Bar in Mexico. Could only get better with some of that other stuff you can readily get in Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3947343818/" title="Epcot 9/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2651/3947343818_12127ea263_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="Epcot 9/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Soarin'. Five times in a row. My feet off the ground. Soarin'. And the Tequila Bar. And Cathy ordering a pitcher of Sangria at dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so lucky to work with the people that I do. It's always a great time as well as productive. I love the career experiences and getting to hang out with my coworkers. The time I spend laughing with them is invaluable to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-8526960654772621888?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/8526960654772621888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=8526960654772621888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8526960654772621888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8526960654772621888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/highlights-of-my-latest-trip-to-epcot.html' title='Highlights of my latest trip to Epcot'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-5374384091898035107</id><published>2009-09-22T02:33:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T03:43:10.498-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slub Stuff...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://charlesandmarie.com/"&gt;COOL STUFF HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/M/e/Meringue_Rings_1000x1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/M/e/Meringue_Rings_1000x1000.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://charlesandmarie.com/by-category/hers"&gt;Meringue Rings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/N/a/NaturalMemory-2_1000x1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/N/a/NaturalMemory-2_1000x1000.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://charlesandmarie.com/by-category/hers"&gt;Little USB STICKS&lt;/a&gt;. howcoolisthat?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/B/o/BottleCapTripot_1000x1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/B/o/BottleCapTripot_1000x1000.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://charlesandmarie.com/by-category/tech-toys"&gt;Bottlecap Tripop&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/T/y/Typography_Soap_Boxed_1000x1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://charlesandmarie.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/200x200/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/T/y/Typography_Soap_Boxed_1000x1000.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://charlesandmarie.com/by-category/hers"&gt;Typography Soap&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-5374384091898035107?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/5374384091898035107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=5374384091898035107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5374384091898035107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5374384091898035107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/slub-stuff.html' title='Slub Stuff...'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7625356084902546204</id><published>2009-09-15T02:04:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T01:47:56.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A real page turner.</title><content type='html'>At this point in my life there are doors opening for me everywhere I turn. It's one of those "Create Your Own Adventure" books that were so popular in grade school. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If you take the option to walk through that door turn to pg.37, if you are too afraid to step through door number 2 then turn to pg 76..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I would do when I read those books? Straight to page 37 and then immediately to page 76. I would flip to every available outcome and then read the one that I selected as most exciting. Kind of ironic now that I look at my life. I do this all the time. I'll ask twelve different people their opinions on something and then select my personal preference. Hey, it's my right I suppose, and everyone has different knowledge and a particular way of delivering it. It helps me decide. Because I'm a bit indecisive. And a bit spontaneous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sort of doing that now but what is different here is that I know it doesn't matter what any person advises me of. It's all very positive coming from people that know me well, but I know that this is one story line that can only be continued by my sorting out the big mix up of logical and emotional thoughts and feelings. We all come to times in our lives that we know for a fact that everything will change drastically with one move. I'm ready for a new life right about now, but I'm not saying that I don't briefly turn into a Xanadu medical experiment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3917948345/" title="The Phoenix nest by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2595/3917948345_4b78ecc1f8_o.jpg" alt="The Phoenix nest" height="533" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my utopian little dreams I have always seen it...&lt;br /&gt;...My man, handsome and sexy he keeps secrets and snuggles with me at night.  I never have to worry about him getting too drunk or too fucked up to make it home.  He says "I love coming home to you" as he walks through the door. An organic vegetable garden. Black-eyed-susans, Daisey's, Poppies and Sunflowers.  I see bonfires and enough space for a last minute camping adventures. Farm fresh eggs and sunset rides on bikes or the four wheeler. Neighbors that like each other and have campfire potluck dinners on the weekends. And Jose Cuervo. My horse, right down the street. Mutchie running and playing with all the other dogs. And as much as I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt; to admit it- seasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that perhaps with all the frustration of being alone I had forgotten about my dreams. The "home" part of them at least. I guess that I kind of lost touch with the fact that this could even exist. It to me, was just way to much to ask. A good man was plenty, even if he took residence in a shack. Surrounded by a swamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What lies in front of me looks indeed to be the manifestation of my dreams, and it's no swamp shack. I want nothing more to be in that life. As long as I have breath left on this earth I can appreciate all the things he has achieved, all that he stands for (well, mostly all) and everything that he wants to share with me. I can be his woman. I'm ready. I guess the Universe thinks that I have learned all the lessons I need to in order to share my life with him. I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is no flipping through the pages to see the outcome. However much I feel that everything is as its supposed to be I have to work through my fears. I don't want him to think I'm trying to sabotage anything by my fearful thoughts or jokes about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;premoveital&lt;/span&gt; agreements. I want this, I am sure of that. But my truth is, that I would be leaving my decent little life by the beach to drop in on the establishment in a state that has made some suggest &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"rebound?!"&lt;/span&gt;. That is scary to me. It's like telling me "you get to be Britney's backup dancer for this tour. You have to do it naked."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day to day minute to minute I can't wait to be with him. how do I know? because he exceeds my expectations. He believes. He will pay the bills on time. He gets cranky if he hasn't had time with his favorite hobby, or me. He's reasonable and very cheeky. He's just like me but exactly opposite. My thoughts of us developing our daily routine together is all the motivation I need to stop thinking about the "what if's". I'm here, at the jump off feeling vulnerable I don't think I've ever been in love till now. Because the point is, that I don't really care if all that stuff is his. As long as his heart is mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am here to say. If he thinks I will do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; the laundry, he's very barmy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7625356084902546204?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7625356084902546204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7625356084902546204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7625356084902546204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7625356084902546204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/real-page-turner.html' title='A real page turner.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-5000408694376175778</id><published>2009-09-15T01:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T02:02:03.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crossing swords since 1994.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3918731824/" title="2009 Canfield Fair by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2455/3918731824_138b4e9460_o.jpg" width="448" height="298" alt="2009 Canfield Fair" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3917946923/" title="2009 Canfield Fair by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3473/3917946923_be10d737c8_o.jpg" width="422" height="288" alt="2009 Canfield Fair" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3917947047/" title="2009 Canfield Fair by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3503/3917947047_610c7048c5_o.jpg" width="384" height="310" alt="2009 Canfield Fair" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canfield Fair. So glad the Dutchess and Jim like the vegetables too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-5000408694376175778?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/5000408694376175778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=5000408694376175778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5000408694376175778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5000408694376175778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/crossing-swords-since-1994.html' title='Crossing swords since 1994.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-5970892039729942452</id><published>2009-09-15T01:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T01:54:19.712-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3921647435/" title="Dusty 08/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2666/3921647435_768028ca44_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="Dusty 08/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3921647523/" title="Dusty 08/09 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3446/3921647523_ef254d3b3d_o.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="Dusty 08/09" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dusty is fancy. Dusty makes me fancy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-5970892039729942452?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/5970892039729942452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=5970892039729942452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5970892039729942452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5970892039729942452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/09/dusty-is-fancy.html' title=''/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7880335850990034246</id><published>2009-08-29T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T01:02:47.525-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3866216147/" title="DS by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2675/3866216147_47265e18a6_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="DS" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this &lt;a href="http://anonymousmale2.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-way-he-kisses-you-says-more-than.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7880335850990034246?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7880335850990034246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7880335850990034246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7880335850990034246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7880335850990034246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/08/this-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-687485867191855516</id><published>2009-08-08T16:09:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T16:59:41.464-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't love you with your eyes wide shut.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/2094161202_b231294eb0_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 160px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/2094161202_b231294eb0_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep trying to place myself in a hypothetical situation whereas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I very recently met someone that I connect with in magical ways. I look very forward to spending time with this person. When we are together the rest of the world comes to a whoa. My feelings are returned with a grown up sense of understanding and appreciation. And caring. We are confidant and excited for our future of growing together. My house is a home with this person.&lt;br /&gt;But.&lt;br /&gt;There is something taking my emotional state to ragged.  I am ready to finalize the divorce. But this person, the one that I fell in love with not all that long ago is looking for redemption. Very last minute ditch efforts to convince me to reconsider. Remember that our love is stronger than this? Begging and pleading for another chance to give me all of the things that they had promised me on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My conscience simply cannot allow me to be numb to this. I have deep emotional strings of loyalty and here is this person that I fell in love with at their utmost vulnerable state. While I listen to him turn the pages of the chapters numb feelings feed my brain the sadness I have for being the enigma of his brokenness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It makes me introspect with the knowledge that I have on the other side that in which I never felt they could give me in the first place. A slight escape from the confrontation.&lt;br /&gt;As I tell him that I don't love him anymore my heart breaks with a certain sadness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to understand your energy my guileless thoughts have no trouble jumping into that persona. I gather memories from one of my own past lives. Sure, it wasn't a marriage. But it was. I'm not one to believe that it takes a piece of paper. My thoughts are returned with compassion while knowing that we have all been there. We have all fallen out of love and we have all begged for forgiveness at some point in our lives. In some cases human nature leads to aggressiveness if we learn there are doors opening on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your words are so sweetly reassuring. The only threat I sense comes from my own yearning to ease you. I can see through the looking glass and I respect that this may not be my place right now.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know that I want it to be my place.&lt;br /&gt;But still, your humanity makes me want to reach inside of you and hold with tender hands as I hear the maze of your voice. I am being careful to manage the state of your being because I respect you. I care about you.&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but to want to give you any such space you need at this time. I suspect that you need this time to be in your cave. So please take it if you need it. Take it now before my own compassion dwindles into intolerance. I can't love you with your eyes wide shut.&lt;br /&gt;The adoration that I feel for you has grown as I witness your empathy. The way in which you have handled yourself at such a weird time is as much of the extreme gentleman as it is sexy. Thank you for giving me the confidence of knowing you stand steadfast that I am indeed your desire.&lt;br /&gt;It is all I need&lt;br /&gt;to do what I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-687485867191855516?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/687485867191855516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=687485867191855516' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/687485867191855516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/687485867191855516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-cant-love-you-with-your-eyes-wide.html' title='I can&apos;t love you with your eyes wide shut.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-5976034420191330742</id><published>2009-07-16T23:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T23:53:51.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What phishs around comes around</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36045457@N08/3650918606/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3655/3650918606_248ffe96d8_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36045457@N08/3650918606/"&gt;Phish at Alpine Valley 6/21/09&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36045457@N08/"&gt;phishfromtheroad&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions.&lt;br /&gt;Pick Your Artist: Phish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you a boy or a girl?&lt;br /&gt;sample in a jar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe yourself:&lt;br /&gt;Golgi Apparatus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel:&lt;br /&gt;your hands and feet are mangoes But your gonna be a genius anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe where you currently live:&lt;br /&gt;Rift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could go anywhere, where would you go:&lt;br /&gt;Wading in the velvet sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your favorite form of transportation:&lt;br /&gt;Lawn Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your best friend is:&lt;br /&gt;Wilson...WIIIIIILLLLLLLLSSSSSSOOOOOON&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the weather like:&lt;br /&gt;Split open and melt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite time of day:&lt;br /&gt;farmhouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your life was a tv show, what would it be called:&lt;br /&gt;Reba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is life to you:&lt;br /&gt;bathtub jin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your relationships:&lt;br /&gt;When you're there, I sleep lengthwise&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;I sleep diagonal in my bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your fear:&lt;br /&gt;chalk dust torture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the best advice you have to give:&lt;br /&gt;punch you in the eye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could change your name, you would change it to:&lt;br /&gt;Suzy Greenberg. Marco Esquandolaz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul's present condition:&lt;br /&gt;Bouncing Around the Room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My motto:&lt;br /&gt;you enjoy myself&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-5976034420191330742?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/5976034420191330742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=5976034420191330742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5976034420191330742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/5976034420191330742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-phishs-around-comes-around.html' title='What phishs around comes around'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-1977932419146452600</id><published>2009-06-15T02:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T03:00:20.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and then I fell out of my chair.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="txt10p"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This influence can introduce much pleasantness into your life through good times, agreeable relationships, sexual attraction and friendship. The problems that you will confront during this time are: overindulgence, lack of self-discipline, and unwillingness to work.  T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="font-style: italic;" src="http://www.astro.com/im/hk278/t134.gif" align="left" border="0" height="132" vspace="0" width="284" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;his influence does not fit you for demanding work or trying situations, for you are likely to be lazy and unwilling to rouse yourself.  If you don't have to accomplish anything, there is nothing wrong with this mood.  In fact it is a good time to take it easy.  But be careful not to overindulge in food or drink; today's good feelings may be tomorrow's headache! Your creative energies are stimulated, but you may lack the creative self-discipline that can turn a random outpouring of feelings into an artistic medium and disciplined art."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.astro.com/horoscope"&gt;astro.com&lt;/a&gt;. GO. Know the EXACT minute you were born please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-1977932419146452600?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/1977932419146452600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=1977932419146452600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1977932419146452600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1977932419146452600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-then-i-fell-out-of-my-chair.html' title='and then I fell out of my chair.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-4742646293283063920</id><published>2009-06-12T04:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T04:22:25.078-05:00</updated><title type='text'>stumbled upon me, as I did upon it</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I know marketing well. I, myself market. I hold pride sometimes in my outstanding knowledge of the game. Its very hard to sell me with your broad impersonalized target techniques. It is an easy walk by and I fundamentally pay no attention to any corporations generalizations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Not long ago a good deal approach me in the most creative of ways. In a social networking setting, I looked at the advertisements. I was monetary lured when I realized that over the years of the product's up and down market values and repeated loss of investors, the genuine value of said product had not changed in many years. Not in face value at least. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm not really sure how I can go and make a statement like that because I haven't even set my eyes on the actual investment. But what I can tell you is that the direct marketing tactics that are being displayed by the franchise after they grew witness to my inquiries are mucho outstanding. So outstanding in fact, that I am allllmost willing to purchase sight unseen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This franchise is only working with the very best of copywriters, brainiacs and satirical humorists. Also he has looked into re-viving attention grabbing sales techniques that have been long since forgotten. The personal approach. That's what will make me pull. Thank you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm inquisitive mostly. Doubtful hardly. I will watch silently by, for moments unlearned. I will take every emotional selling point in consideration. In my own time. I will notice the jealously I feel when others talk of the franchise before I get to view let alone commit to anything. Your adaptable proficiency will and should make me this way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Usually if the investment seems too good to be true- what is it? I'm not going to go on and focus on what "might" happen or what "could" happen because well, my gut tells me not to think that way in this case. Perhaps it was just that the failed investors weren't meant to be part of that universal deal in the first place? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;But. I mean, the nest is all I've got. How will I know exactly when to sign on the line? Without questions? Without fears of losing everything that I've built &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; assisted incentives of emotional and physical profits?  I've made investments before. None up to now have been successful. Most just ran their course of years. A few I pulled out of immediently. A few I lingered a little longer than my money was worth. But either way I'm sick of it. I want to make an investment in something real, that will be appreciating every living breathing day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px VAG Rounded Light"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm wondering if such has just stumbled upon me, as I did upon it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-4742646293283063920?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/4742646293283063920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=4742646293283063920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/4742646293283063920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/4742646293283063920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/06/stumbled-upon-me-as-i-did-upon-it.html' title='stumbled upon me, as I did upon it'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-1028606720740412268</id><published>2009-06-04T02:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T02:38:56.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>an afternoon exchange</title><content type='html'>With one of my best friends. On ze Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leggs: " ...is blah blah tunnel n light n stuff!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me "your right sister! I'm crackin up"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What came first the light or the tunnel?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "the accident inside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Lol. Anywho back to that tunnel...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "no use. you wont get to that point. too much romantics variables involved. that's a GOOD thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "and you know your kind of "romantics" of course."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"U make me lose my s***"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "now you have me laughing really hard. you choose to edit your words on FACEBOOK?! ilu."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I have students..... And I'm mature!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "we need to call it a day right here. I just hit a STOP SIGN. wheew."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "Never dood. I don't have a stop sogn remember?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "good thing I got a few here and there. randomly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "Oh yeah! Your the best! Lmfao...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m "your students know what that means."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No way dood"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Its all about the volley with a good friend. Happy.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-1028606720740412268?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/1028606720740412268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=1028606720740412268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1028606720740412268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1028606720740412268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/06/afternoon-exchange.html' title='an afternoon exchange'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-6932678590760108818</id><published>2009-05-24T02:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T02:52:48.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a few tracks later</title><content type='html'>Ben Harper is singing about how it wouldn't have worked out anyway. And that for now its just another lonely day. So then a few tracks later he's telling everyone he's gonna burn one down. I got it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-6932678590760108818?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/6932678590760108818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=6932678590760108818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/6932678590760108818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/6932678590760108818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/05/few-tracks-later.html' title='a few tracks later'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-9129168101033073913</id><published>2009-05-02T01:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T02:00:53.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reloaded.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3493577766/" title="reloaded by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3661/3493577766_edcb82ce6b_o.jpg" alt="reloaded" height="533" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally went to the grocery store. This is a very good thing. So good in fact that I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; to post it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-9129168101033073913?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/9129168101033073913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=9129168101033073913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/9129168101033073913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/9129168101033073913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/05/reloaded.html' title='Reloaded.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-3228838775795296470</id><published>2009-04-29T11:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T11:27:54.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3486580984/" title="dscn0194 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3366/3486580984_479b3a6580_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="dscn0194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-3228838775795296470?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/3228838775795296470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=3228838775795296470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/3228838775795296470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/3228838775795296470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/04/dscn0194-by-latest-slub-on-flickr.html' title=''/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7158056761378316105</id><published>2009-04-25T00:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T00:07:52.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm NOT one of those people...</title><content type='html'>that BRAKES on a highway "on" ramp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a dam runway people. GET. OFF. THE. BRAKES. (!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7158056761378316105?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7158056761378316105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7158056761378316105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7158056761378316105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7158056761378316105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-not-one-of-those-people.html' title='I&apos;m NOT one of those people...'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7731986652560285055</id><published>2009-04-03T22:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T23:05:00.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>delicious hair.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3411087490/" title="Kate's hair by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3552/3411087490_ca33810df1_o.jpg" width="288" height="234" alt="Kate's hair" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From Episode 11 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://fep.abc.go.com/fep/player?src=abccomjs&amp;amp;show=93372&amp;amp;pn=index&amp;amp;showId=93372"&gt;"Whatever Happens, Happens."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Kate.&lt;br /&gt;I love Evangeline Lilly's hair in this episode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7731986652560285055?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7731986652560285055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7731986652560285055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7731986652560285055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7731986652560285055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/04/delicious-hair.html' title='delicious hair.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-8262535208092878593</id><published>2009-04-02T16:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T16:05:49.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>aghhh! what's in the BOx?</title><content type='html'>So, I go out to get my mail today and there is a package at my front door. I wondered for a second if I really ordered that bridle I was looking at online the other night. Walked over, picked it up.&lt;br /&gt;Hm. It's from Amazon. Hmmmm. It's actually addressed to "16", and I am "18".&lt;br /&gt;First gut instinct says: "oh, I'll just take it up to 16 and drop it off."&lt;br /&gt;I shook the box.&lt;br /&gt;HHHHmmMMMM...&lt;br /&gt;Amazon&lt;br /&gt;sells&lt;br /&gt;EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;HMMMmm.&lt;br /&gt;Owh Hell.&lt;br /&gt;I open the cardboard shoe size box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside I see a Nikon Cool pix camera and a small book titled "If the Buddah Dated: A handbook for finding Love on a spiritual Path"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am DYYYYYYYYING for a little point and shoot camera. I look for them on ebay all the time.&lt;br /&gt;Nikon is my camera of choice.&lt;br /&gt;and if you know me well, the book is quite appropriate. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm standing there staring at the highly desired items in this box- FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an honest person, and whenever these kinds of "tests" are presented to me I will choose good karma and be honest. It's a scorpio thing. It usually gets me in trouble, or in debt, or nothing at all except the knowledge that I am living my life to my standards of being a nice human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But. I will stir over it. For a moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-8262535208092878593?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/8262535208092878593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=8262535208092878593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8262535208092878593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8262535208092878593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/04/aghhh-whats-in-box.html' title='aghhh! what&apos;s in the BOx?'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7434550527419822357</id><published>2009-03-11T16:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T17:38:36.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the story of the story of the story of bad mouse karma</title><content type='html'>I couldn't believe that the sign said &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" ALL THE TAFFY YOU CAN FIT IN THIS BAG FOR $1.50"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sweet smells that are piped into the crowd get me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everytime&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So heck,  I went in the largest candy store on Main Steet.&lt;br /&gt;Stuffed that little bag so full I would have enough taffy until at least September!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, while standing in line for Soarin' I plopped the seventeenth piece of taffy into my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;It was kinda crunchy (?)&lt;br /&gt;I don't know I just thought that maybe it was the little dried crunchy ends of the taffy...&lt;br /&gt;...and then it all hit me.&lt;br /&gt;The tootsie roll pop incident in high school!The dive into the pool! The walking into the door!&lt;br /&gt;MY tongue felt my front teeth.&lt;br /&gt;Yup.&lt;br /&gt;I just crunched the bonding of my tooth.&lt;br /&gt;I spit the whole glob of taffy out into the paper wrapper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teah was on the phone with her boyfriend and looked at me wondering what the hell I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;I'm rapidly pointing at my mouth,  she's got a puzzled look on her face and says &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"what???"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more rapid pointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"WHAAAAAAAAt???"&lt;/span&gt; she says again.&lt;br /&gt;How could she not notice? It feels like half my tooth is gone!!! I'm not taking "WHAT" for a reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"doode, MY TOOTH. LOOK AT MY TOOTH!!!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"owh. it's not that bad." &lt;/span&gt;and she continues talking to her boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3474/3347124673_185b74bd36_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 133px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3474/3347124673_185b74bd36_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was crushed. I was going to South Beach the NEXT DAY.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a very vain person, but for god's sake I'm basically average in every physical and cleavage-ical way and my smile- I need that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about it later.&lt;br /&gt;I just wondered if it was the mouse's way of dishing me some bad karma back because I kinda dropped the f-bomb in the middle of the light parade (you know, the one with all the CHILDREN watching?) with enthusiasm to say the least. My friend instantly scolded me which was very bona fide because I mean, you know-&lt;br /&gt;in the crowd of 10,000 children you could have heard a pin drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO you know that they block off ALL of main street a good 45 mins before the parade even starts? Nope, can't even run-like-the-wind across.&lt;br /&gt;And obviously, can't cuss about it either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7434550527419822357?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7434550527419822357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7434550527419822357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7434550527419822357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7434550527419822357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/03/story-of-story-of-story-of-bad-mouse.html' title='the story of the story of the story of bad mouse karma'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-6554663145796862389</id><published>2009-03-09T14:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T16:54:50.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm running in and out of houses.</title><content type='html'>I have really crazy dreams. This happens often and I will usually wake up with my heart beating real fast and I'm sweaty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm always running. Physically RUNNING somewhere. Usually I am running to get away from someone. Or I'm running to get help from someone. Or running to find the men that my grandfather told me to go see if I ever had a *problem* that hang out in the back rooms of italian restaurants...so they can help me hide a BODY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was running from a vicious pit bull on a leash. He was coming after me and the man holding him back said "owhhhh, he's jus playin."&lt;br /&gt;-buLLLLLLshit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other constant is a house. There is always a house involved. I'm running in and out of houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a house that a group of people and I stayed in-and JUST left.  I should have written it down, because I remembered vividly when I awoke.  I had to go back to get something. When I arrived there were a whole bunch of really really weird people there. Like gypsies, fraternity boys and the family from texas chainsaw massacre.&lt;br /&gt;yah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, well maybe not fraternity boys, but you get my drift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house was on a hill in the woods. As I made my way to the door I walked up into the foyer and this man with this crazed dog appeared. At first I ignored him because I just needed to get my stuff. Then I realized that he was taunting him to attack me. As I ran down the steps pleading for him not to let the dog loose I tripped. The dog nipped me. I looked up and saw a door so I scurried through it. It was a plain wood paneling room, very small. I realized that there was another door so I swung it open anticipating freedom of the outdoors.- So that I can RUN some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I pushed the second door open it stopped abruptly. It hit something. A person I thought. I said "I'm sorry who ever is in there." and turned to go back OUT the door I came in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was no way to tell if there was even a door there now.&lt;br /&gt;I was trapped in this room and no idea what or WHO was in the other little room next to me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking in my "Freud's Interpretation of Dreams". Volkelt believed that dreams took place not only on a mental level but a physical level also. "The human body as a whole is pictured as a house by dream-imagination and the separate organs of the body by portions of a house. In dreams with a dental stimulus, an entrance hall with vaulted roof corresponds to the oral cavity..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3342331344_019199ef74_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 178px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3543/3342331344_019199ef74_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am getting a FIFTH wisdom tooth right now.&lt;br /&gt;yah. I'm 36.&lt;br /&gt;The bonding came off my front tooth, an ordeal which is causing me much anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I didn't stick around long enough because it also says that the actual organ will openly reveal itself at the end of the dream - I would be pulling my tooth out in my dream.&lt;br /&gt;But the other writers thought that this was a bunch of bull.&lt;br /&gt;HOLY crap...&lt;br /&gt;female area and genitals are regarded as "the bottom" = where I was trying to go.&lt;br /&gt;Steps, ladders, staircases are represented as sexual act= walked up steps and tripped back down.&lt;br /&gt;"smooth" walls of which the dreamer climbs, the facades of houses correspond to erect human bodies= the walls of the tiny room were SMOOTH. PLAIN. PANELING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(AHHHHHHHAA! it's getting really weird! this is all on the same page in the book!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"wood" seems from its linguistic connections to stand in general for female "material"=SMOOTH. PLAIN. PANELING. WOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta think about this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-6554663145796862389?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/6554663145796862389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=6554663145796862389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/6554663145796862389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/6554663145796862389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-running-in-and-out-of-houses.html' title='I&apos;m running in and out of houses.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-707029085239721416</id><published>2009-03-06T02:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T02:29:25.429-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My horse telling me to bug off with his Jolly Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="265" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zCC1jlO3DAk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zCC1jlO3DAk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="265" width="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-707029085239721416?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/707029085239721416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=707029085239721416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/707029085239721416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/707029085239721416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='My horse telling me to bug off with his Jolly Ball'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-8251529639432286245</id><published>2009-03-06T02:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T02:24:31.945-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3332038037/" title="img_1712 by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3298/3332038037_3871b3d99c_o.jpg" width="400" height="300" alt="img_1712" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pone-pone is georgeous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-8251529639432286245?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/8251529639432286245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=8251529639432286245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8251529639432286245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/8251529639432286245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-pone-pone-is-georgeous.html' title=''/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-1235836152833516055</id><published>2009-02-24T10:59:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T11:10:37.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thelatestslub/3288603249/" title="Abrcrombie horse Blanket by The Latest Slub:, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3244/3288603249_e6d3615972_o.jpg" alt="Abrcrombie horse Blanket" height="320" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leggs handed me this blanket and said "here, see if this fits dusty."&lt;br /&gt;"OMG! it looks like an old school blanket! so cool. It looks like Abercrombie and Fitch's version of a horse blanket!"&lt;br /&gt;I picked it up and flipped it over...see the letters on it??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-1235836152833516055?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/1235836152833516055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=1235836152833516055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1235836152833516055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/1235836152833516055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/02/leggs-handed-me-this-blanket-and-said.html' title=''/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7936026.post-7516955936177611295</id><published>2009-02-17T20:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T20:38:39.052-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Deductive reasoning with horses.</title><content type='html'>Get horse out of stall and put him in the crossties.&lt;br /&gt;Grab curry and start circling on shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dancie-dancie&lt;/span&gt; "NO".&lt;br /&gt;Put less than favored curry back in box.&lt;br /&gt;Take out Soft brush.&lt;br /&gt;(no curry=no hard brush)&lt;br /&gt;start brushing shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dancie-dancie&lt;/span&gt; "NO".&lt;br /&gt;face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dancie-dancie&lt;/span&gt; "NO".&lt;br /&gt;butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dancie-dancie&lt;/span&gt; "NO".&lt;br /&gt;Horse in good mood.&lt;br /&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;legs. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see ankle swollen like big fupa.&lt;br /&gt;place hand on ankle.&lt;br /&gt;horse stands still.&lt;br /&gt;Lowers head.&lt;br /&gt;Licking chewing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's pretty much the system of talking to a horse.&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it wonderful?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7936026-7516955936177611295?l=steechez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/feeds/7516955936177611295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7936026&amp;postID=7516955936177611295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7516955936177611295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7936026/posts/default/7516955936177611295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://steechez.blogspot.com/2009/02/deductive-reasoning-with-horses.html' title='Deductive reasoning with horses.'/><author><name>Slub</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14900609344505957607</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12530530916403926187'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>