<?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' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995</id><updated>2012-01-26T13:43:19.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>annals of bc</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>74</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6787134684776422140</id><published>2009-08-04T22:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T22:45:22.457-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is this blog such the focus?</title><content type='html'>Many of you have already read the story of Brett (&amp; Bryan) Oliphant on this page, I no longer do updates on this blog about that stuff (today being an exception I guess) SO you can go over to this blog &lt;a href="http://brettmoliphant.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://brettmoliphant.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; for any and all current and future information.  Just a reminder you can email me at apetersen219@yahoo.com for any questions or comments and as always you will be kept completely confidential.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and to the ERAC people out there, well, now you know.  Bryan is not a bad guy, never has been, never will be.  Now that you know what happened please don't be afraid to continue to be a friend(s).  No hard feelings over here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to Brett, just one more pile of shit hit us in this giant shit storm we have been calling life!  Let's just pray Brett gets what he deserves!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6787134684776422140?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6787134684776422140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6787134684776422140' title='57 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6787134684776422140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6787134684776422140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-is-this-blog-such-focus.html' title='Why is this blog such the focus?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>57</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5292781572620590286</id><published>2008-12-05T10:34:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T17:04:40.597-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fish Tanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3234/3020264902_502b4b9613_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 443px; height: 332px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3234/3020264902_502b4b9613_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;System: 75gal, crushed coral, ~75# Live Rock, Pro Clear Aquatic wet/dry filter with skimmer, Koralia 4, Koralia 1, modded maxijet 1200&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights: T12 actinic, T12 magtinic (and that's it for now until I fix this hair algae problem and/or get a new light solution)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish, etc: foxface, maroon clown, royal gramma basslet, lawnmower blenny, skunk shrimp, margarita snails, red legged hermits, two mexican turbos, seabe anemone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corals: pink and yellow toadstool leathers, devils finger leather, misc mushrooms, misc ricordia, zoanthids, button polyps, various star polyps, bubble coral, frogspawn, pulsing xenia, carnation, closed brain coral &amp;amp; a cristmas tree rock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3220336571_f068c963d3_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 441px; height: 330px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3220336571_f068c963d3_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;System: 75gal, sugar sized sand, ~35# Live Rock, sump/fuge with skimmer, (2) Koralia 3's &amp;amp; a Quietone 1200 for some water flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights: PC 50/50, T8 daylight (this sucks I need real lighting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish, etc: clarkii, blue hippo tang, six line wrasse, margarita snails, red legged hermits, blue legged hermits, seabe anemone, coco worm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corals: blastomussa, sun coral, acan lord, blasto, favites, misc mushrooms, zoanthids, button polyps, star polyps, frogspawn &amp;amp; a possible carnation&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5292781572620590286?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5292781572620590286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5292781572620590286' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5292781572620590286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5292781572620590286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/12/system-75gal-crushed-coral-75-live-rock.html' title='My Fish Tanks'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3234/3020264902_502b4b9613_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6317072430986557360</id><published>2008-09-08T19:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T20:25:45.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Amazing Clown Fish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SMXCTb62KcI/AAAAAAAAAD4/rNJ-8TDfXlk/s1600-h/2837137029_9b9704a6d3_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SMXCTb62KcI/AAAAAAAAAD4/rNJ-8TDfXlk/s320/2837137029_9b9704a6d3_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243810980310690242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little over two months ago I woke up one morning and found that one of my Clown fish was missing.  I was so sad, thinking that maybe she jumped out of the tank or was attacked and killed by my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2593738287/in/set-72157606595896420/"&gt;Coral Banded Shrimp&lt;/a&gt; or just died for some reason.  We never found a body that definitely looked like a Clown fish body but we did find some fleshy substance which we assumed was her after everything else ate her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since there the male Clown fish stayed in the upper right hand corner of the tank by the overflow box.  I started thinking I had one of those weird Clown fishes that hosts something strange like the corner of the tank instead of an anemone (which I have two of).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month went by and I wanted another fish to replace the void that I now felt after losing a fish.  Since I couldn't buy another Clown fish because not only did I have a mated pair, but they are Maroon Clown fishes which are the most agressive type and are sure to kill each other if they're not a mated pair like I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out and bought a &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2750989468/in/set-72157606595869994/"&gt;Fox Face&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I bought a &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2837130663/in/set-72157606595869994/"&gt;Six Line Wrasse&lt;/a&gt; a couple weeks later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks later I bought a &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2837968514/"&gt;Royal Gramma Basslet&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the other day Bryan and I are watching Notre Dame get their asses handed to them by San Diego State, I was somewhat bored and sickened by this game and decided to clean the filter in the overflow box of the fish tank.  (The overflow box is the first part of my filtration system, which includes a wet/dry filter and a protein skimmer.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOOOO I stand on something to look into the back part of the &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2593315547/in/set-72157606595896420/"&gt;overflow box&lt;/a&gt; (behind the tank), which I never do because it's not easy to see it...  I pulled the filter thingy out of it and looked into the box and said "HOLY SHIT!  THERE'S A CLOWN FISH IN THERE!"  Bryan thought I was joking, and I thought maybe the male Clown somehow just got in there.  I checked the tank and he was there, and there was still another Clown in the overflow box.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Bryan got me a spoon to fish her out with.  I got her out and into the tank.  The two Clowns began swimming around like nothing ever happened.  The male no longer hosts the corner.  I think he was actually staying by her the whole time, since she was only 3" away the entire time.  Crazy stuff!!  I'm still in shock!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above is the two of them a couple minutes after I "saved" her...  The female is on in the front (left) and male us rear (right).  She looks pretty good for living in the filtration system for over 2 months!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6317072430986557360?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6317072430986557360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6317072430986557360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6317072430986557360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6317072430986557360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/09/amazing-clown-fish.html' title='The Amazing Clown Fish'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SMXCTb62KcI/AAAAAAAAAD4/rNJ-8TDfXlk/s72-c/2837137029_9b9704a6d3_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2847001401254239048</id><published>2008-08-19T18:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T18:35:14.235-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugggh my back...  ZÜCA saves the day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SKtKlkJduMI/AAAAAAAAADY/iS9PRiV95ts/s1600-h/Zuca+Bag.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SKtKlkJduMI/AAAAAAAAADY/iS9PRiV95ts/s200/Zuca+Bag.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236361000967321794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I take quite a load of stuff with me, laptop, medical bag, paperwork, a book or two, food and my purse.  The last few days my back has been killing me, couldn't really figure out what was causing that until I started observing some of the nursing staff where I work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of them are pulling bags on wheels behind them.  Duh.  Makes sense.  In this business the amount of stuff we have to carry around with us is unreal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this bag on wheels once and thought it looked cool.  The brand is &lt;a href="http://www.zuca.com/"&gt;ZÜCA&lt;/a&gt; and although I thought it was expensive at the time I now know that it is way worth it.  The &lt;a href="http://www.zuca.com/"&gt;ZÜCA&lt;/a&gt; is the most wonderful bag I have ever seen or used.  I asked the sales lady if I could return it if it didn't fit all of my "stuff" and she laughed and said "sure, but you won't have that problem" and wow, she was right!  I got home and started filling it with my work stuff and I still have so much room!!  I now have everything in one heavy duty, yet very light and deceivingly large bag, not to mention that my back is recovering!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would recommend this bag to anyone!  I love my &lt;a href="http://www.zuca.com/"&gt;ZÜCA&lt;/a&gt;!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2847001401254239048?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2847001401254239048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2847001401254239048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2847001401254239048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2847001401254239048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/08/ugggh-my-back-zca-saves-day.html' title='Ugggh my back...  ZÜCA saves the day!'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YSRfhOBu-XU/SKtKlkJduMI/AAAAAAAAADY/iS9PRiV95ts/s72-c/Zuca+Bag.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8484719165242541217</id><published>2008-08-10T17:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T17:57:18.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Caring about a child molester...</title><content type='html'>Some of you may know me, many of you probably don't.  Regardless you may know that I have a son of my own, 9 yrs old, and two "step" daughters, 7 &amp; 9.  How could I care about a child molester?  Interesting question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About three years ago I received a notification from &lt;a href="http://familywatchdog.us/"&gt;Family Watchdog&lt;/a&gt; that I had two offenders move in three houses down from mine.  Not only are they offenders, but they have been charged with offenses against children and there are two living in the same house!  My house is on an extremely quiet street near a dead end at a graveyard.  I love it here.  Child molesters, and two at that?!  WTF?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past couple years I've watched them closely.  There seems to be the controlling one, and the subservient one, Ralph.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray just gives off this evil icky sicko molester vibe.  Everything about this guy is wrong and I've never even had to spend any time looking at him except when he drives by or I see him maybe coming out of the house or something.  Ray drives a really shitty car with no muffler and never has Ralph in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph walks to the bus stop at the corner every day for work.  He has always waved and smiled at us while walking down the sidewalk in front of my house.  For the first year or so I never waved back.  After all, he is convicted of a crime against children.  Ralph never gave up on waving to us.  Bryan was the first to wave back at him, I asked him why he waved back, he said he just thought he'd be nice.  Ralph seems "slow" you could say.  Like his IQ is lacking significant points and he does the best he can just to function.  I give him props for his persistent waving and going to work every day.  Bryan and I decided that since he's "slow" maybe he did something stupid because he's slow and he's not some kind of hardcore premeditated sicko child molester.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week ago there was a shopping cart full of "stuff" in the front yard of the "molesters house" as we and the children call it.  Upon further inspection I noticed a sign on the cart, printed from a computer saying "RALPH'S HOME" - at first I laughed.  I'm sure when Ralph got home from work that night things were not good for him.  The cart stayed there a few days, then it moved to the side of the house.  We then noticed Ralph was sleeping on the front porch at night.  This was sad.  Bryan said I should call the cops, I decided not to stating that "it's none of our business" - two more nights went by.  I couldn't stand to see this any longer.  Bryan and I decided that if anything we are helping Ralph.  He needed to either go back in the house and live, or go live at a shelter.  Who knows what his mental condition really is, it might be our duty to help at this point.  I called the cops and reported "a homeless guy sleeping on my neighbors porch" of course pretending I knew nothing.  The cops came out, talked with Ray &amp; Ralph, I could not hear the conversation.  Ralph did not end up sleeping on the porch that night.  We didn't see much action at the molester house for the next few days.  A couple days after all of this, Bryan called me at work, (speaking in a tone I cannot describe, not sad, not somber, I don't know what it was) and said that Ralph is walking down the road towards the bus stop with a suitcase and a backpack.  While we were talking he said Ralph had just looked back at the house almost as if "well that's the end" and never looked back.  We have not seen Ralph since.  So, I wonder, did we care about a child molester?  Did we help him?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never seemed to be drunk or on drugs so I really really hope to God that he is safe at a shelter somewhere and not on the streets.  I want to feel that we helped him, not hurt him.  I'm going to assume I helped unless I learn otherwise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(He is still a registered offender at the address by my house, I will be monitoring this for an address change.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8484719165242541217?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8484719165242541217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8484719165242541217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8484719165242541217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8484719165242541217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/08/caring-about-child-molester.html' title='Caring about a child molester...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-7267631477996062966</id><published>2008-06-11T00:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T00:08:14.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm tired of Brett being the subject of my blog.</title><content type='html'>I want my blog back so I've made another place to type about current Brett things.  I  am tired of him taking over my blog so I'm taking this elsewhere.  I'll get some stuff posted there soon.  Comments, suggestions &amp; submissions appreciated! &lt;a href="http://brettmoliphant.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://brettmoliphant.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-7267631477996062966?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/7267631477996062966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=7267631477996062966' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/7267631477996062966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/7267631477996062966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-tired-of-brett-being-subject-of-my.html' title='I&apos;m tired of Brett being the subject of my blog.'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6649445085052195061</id><published>2008-06-10T19:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T19:57:45.062-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New stuff....?</title><content type='html'>People keep emailing me wanting to know if they're anything new going on with the good 'ol boy Brett Oliphant.  The only things that I've been told recently that I don't think I've posted here are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. He bought a Mercedes recently.&lt;br /&gt;2. Went to Vegas earlier this year.&lt;br /&gt;3. Now works at McAfee HQ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have anything to share?  You all come to me wanting infos but here I am in Indiana pretty far from California,  I have to rely on all of you for the latest scoop!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6649445085052195061?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6649445085052195061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6649445085052195061' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6649445085052195061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6649445085052195061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-stuff.html' title='New stuff....?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2199588977969017116</id><published>2008-06-02T11:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T11:25:10.654-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok Security Profiling Guys...</title><content type='html'>A few of you have responded on this blog stating you used to work there.  So... what's the story?  What happened there?  Fill us in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2199588977969017116?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2199588977969017116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2199588977969017116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2199588977969017116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2199588977969017116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/06/ok-security-profiling-guys.html' title='Ok Security Profiling Guys...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4091395311661559144</id><published>2008-06-01T18:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T19:00:41.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#20 Brett's Greatest Skill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2542409647/"&gt;Scam, con, victimize, swindle, defraud, rook, goldbrick, nobble, diddle, bunco, mulct, gyp, gip, hornswoggle, short-change, cheat, rip-off or chisel.  Whatever you want to call it...  it's Brett Oliphant's specialty.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4091395311661559144?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4091395311661559144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4091395311661559144' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4091395311661559144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4091395311661559144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/06/20-bretts-greatest-skill.html' title='#20 Brett&apos;s Greatest Skill'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-732991130898534664</id><published>2008-05-26T22:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T22:32:44.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The funniest thing I've ever read...!!!!</title><content type='html'>You guys gotta check this out.  How funny!  I've heard a lot of the lies he's told some of you people, this has to top them off for the moment...  &lt;a href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8397031560483346473"&gt;[CLICK HERE]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-732991130898534664?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/732991130898534664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=732991130898534664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/732991130898534664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/732991130898534664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/funniest-thing-ive-ever-read.html' title='The funniest thing I&apos;ve ever read...!!!!'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8397031560483346473</id><published>2008-05-26T13:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T13:46:25.418-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#19 The Horse Whisperer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bc219/2524376407/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;Nuf said...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8397031560483346473?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8397031560483346473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8397031560483346473' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8397031560483346473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8397031560483346473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/19-horse-whisperer.html' title='#19 The Horse Whisperer'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5957111047489695167</id><published>2008-05-23T09:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T10:04:51.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>half asleep</title><content type='html'>Okay people I see that you all keep coming back looking for new stuff.  I've been working so much (at work now) and have not had much time to be on here.  I have a few more photos of the day to post.  If anyone has pics that I don't have go ahead and let me know and I will use them as well.  We would also like any info you have that might help others realize who Brett really is so don't be afraid to post or email me at apetersen219@yahoo.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have however been working on my post for Yetanother's &lt;a href="http://brettoliphant.blogspot.com"&gt;Brett Oliphant womanizer blog&lt;/a&gt;, just not finished yet.  I think she and I have been doing well to manage our home lives and work lately, let alone think about Brett crap.  Keep checking back...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5957111047489695167?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5957111047489695167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5957111047489695167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5957111047489695167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5957111047489695167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/half-asleep.html' title='half asleep'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5119211217177212315</id><published>2008-05-22T11:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T12:01:00.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Soon...</title><content type='html'>Since the responses by Brett Oliphant's past and present girlfriends has been so tremendous, a friend of mine, past girlfriend of Brett, and current writer of this blog has started &lt;a href="http://brettoliphant.blogspot.com"&gt;something new&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5119211217177212315?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5119211217177212315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5119211217177212315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5119211217177212315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5119211217177212315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/coming-soon.html' title='Coming Soon...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4689596211301309117</id><published>2008-05-19T23:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T23:33:18.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Few Months...</title><content type='html'>Brett,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many of your exes (and by exes I mean ex-girlfriends, ex-business partners, ex-associates and friends) will be at your hearing. I know I will be there. I have to say, it will be a great day when I get to be there to watch you get yours. I want to be clear. When I say "get yours," I mean you getting exactly what you deserve. I am not out for revenge or malice. I simply would like to see you reap what you sow for a change.&lt;br /&gt;See you in November! I will be looking forward to it!&lt;br /&gt;PS.  You know(...) this isn't going to disappear no matter what you keep telling people.  You can dress it up as much as you want, but if you look like a duck and smell like a duck...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4689596211301309117?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4689596211301309117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4689596211301309117' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4689596211301309117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4689596211301309117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/in-few-months.html' title='In a Few Months...'/><author><name>Another Thirty-Something</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09084471391624319272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-9119927886114535660</id><published>2008-05-19T20:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T20:25:12.755-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi Brett Oliphant</title><content type='html'>I'll make sure I'm there to see you on November 18th.  I hope you pay for what you've done, to everyone.  The investors, your family, your multiple girlfriends any everyone else you've managed to touch err... I mean RUIN the lives of.  Guess what.  You'll never get the pleasure to know you ruined my life.  You only made me stronger.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theregister.co.uk/2008/05/19/hacker_safe_researcher_charged/"&gt;http://www.theregister.co.uk/2008/05/19/hacker_safe_researcher_charged/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pcworld.com/businesscenter/article/146078/mcafee_antifraud_researcher_charged_with_fraud.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.pcworld.com/businesscenter/article/146078/mcafee_antifraud_researcher_charged_with_fraud.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.0x000000.com/?i=574"&gt;http://www.0x000000.com/?i=574&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-9119927886114535660?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/9119927886114535660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=9119927886114535660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/9119927886114535660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/9119927886114535660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/hi-brett-oliphant.html' title='Hi Brett Oliphant'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6686927151524677740</id><published>2008-05-12T18:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T19:16:09.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommies &amp; Knees</title><content type='html'>Well I want to say thanks to "YetAnother" for her Mothers Day post.  I hope the rest of you mothers out there had a nice weekend.  Here it was really cold and rainy but at least I didn't have to work!  I realize some of you had been anticipating the photo of the day since the weekend.  I however have been sick and dying all weekend yet still managed to have a nice Mothers Day.  My man made me my favorite food, lasagna, which I at all weekend in between the massive amount of sleep and general rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as some of you know I've been jogging, it started out by just getting an urge one day to just run.  I feel really out of shape and overweight and it sounded like a good idea.  I mentioned it to an acquaintance (a Brett Oliphant ex girlfriend oddly enough) who said I should participate in a 5k late this month, as she will be running in as well.  Excitedly I signed up!  I always hated running because since my knee structure is odd it always made me look odd when I ran so it was more that I was self conscious about it rather than the running itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week and a half went by and I was doing fine, then one day my knees started bothering me.  We are now on the anniversary of the third week.  Today I barely made it through my training session (only 21 mins) and made it into my house on pure adrenaline.  I sat on the couch in extreme pain and had to ask my son to go find ice packs (a first).  About 5 minutes later after laying on the couch in extreme pain I tried to walk 15 feet to the bathroom for some Alieve, after holding on to furniture and walls I finally made it, ate some Alieve and back to the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can keep running or not let alone run the 5k so I'm really frustrated and this sucks.  I've been seeing the fat melt away as well as inches and although I have the option of the elliptical machine at the gym, it's just not the same.  I'm going to make an appointment with the orthopedic doctor and see what he says.  I'm frustrated, and you all know what happens when I get frustrated ... I vent here!!!   ( ... that was for you, yes, you)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6686927151524677740?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6686927151524677740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6686927151524677740' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6686927151524677740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6686927151524677740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/mommies-knees.html' title='Mommies &amp; Knees'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5360918655196662235</id><published>2008-05-11T21:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:43:11.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>I know there are at least two of us mothers that contribute to this blog and some that read it.  So Happy Mother's Day to all!  Hope you all had excellent days with family and for those of you not yet receiving home-made flower pots and other cute little gifts from your children, I hope you had a good time visiting your mother or equivalent today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5360918655196662235?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5360918655196662235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5360918655196662235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5360918655196662235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5360918655196662235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Another Thirty-Something</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09084471391624319272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5673631211026378663</id><published>2008-05-09T06:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T06:19:21.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#18 Still hope?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2477379545/"&gt;Maybe there was still hope at this point....?  Maybe?  Or not.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I've always been one to give people the benefit of the doubt.  Sometimes we need to open our eyes and try to use some discretion, especially when those around us can sense things we are ignoring.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5673631211026378663?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5673631211026378663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5673631211026378663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5673631211026378663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5673631211026378663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/18-still-hope.html' title='#18 Still hope?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2178083960260408735</id><published>2008-05-08T06:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T06:15:09.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#17 People are stupid according to Brett.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2475078529/"&gt;Please... how lame can he get here?  First of all, if you know him at all you can tell it's not him.  Second, don't you think he'd have to original and not have to steal it from consumption junction? &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2178083960260408735?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2178083960260408735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2178083960260408735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2178083960260408735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2178083960260408735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/people-are-stupid-according-to-brett.html' title='#17 People are stupid according to Brett.'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6367519314359128489</id><published>2008-05-07T07:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T11:33:03.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#16 Contemplation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2473550980/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;I didn't realize it at the time that this was Brett's favorite place to go and contemplate a master plan, err I mean, master scam.  He would come up with it, then bring people there to sell it to them.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6367519314359128489?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6367519314359128489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6367519314359128489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6367519314359128489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6367519314359128489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/contemplation.html' title='#16 Contemplation'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-5309888301601860871</id><published>2008-05-06T06:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T06:12:08.031-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#15 Super Slick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2470711766/"&gt;You know how he is...  Smarter than everyone else!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-5309888301601860871?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/5309888301601860871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=5309888301601860871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5309888301601860871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/5309888301601860871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/15-super-slick.html' title='#15 Super Slick'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4912772020048908916</id><published>2008-05-05T06:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T17:01:48.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#14 Holiday Inn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2466766267/in/photostream/"&gt;Chillin at the Holiday Inn...  Many of us pre-2008 girlfriends know all about this Holiday Inn in Downtown South Bend!!  Eeew!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4912772020048908916?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4912772020048908916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4912772020048908916' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4912772020048908916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4912772020048908916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/14.html' title='#14 Holiday Inn'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8225252004187335154</id><published>2008-05-04T15:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T15:39:23.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#13 Hiking in the name of deception...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2465453768/"&gt;I suppose when someone gives you $500k or $650k or whatever it was as an investment into a project, you better pretend like you're going to do something with it other than wine and dine your bitches (and skip town).&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8225252004187335154?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8225252004187335154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8225252004187335154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8225252004187335154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8225252004187335154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/13-hiking-in-name-of-deception.html' title='#13 Hiking in the name of deception...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4610686079343607337</id><published>2008-05-03T06:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T06:27:42.504-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#12 "Allergies"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2460984050/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;"Ooohh poor me, I can't help on the farm because of my allergies, if you need me you can find me on the Commodore64." (Umm... by the way, who doesn't have allergies?)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4610686079343607337?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4610686079343607337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4610686079343607337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4610686079343607337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4610686079343607337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/12-allergies.html' title='#12 &quot;Allergies&quot;'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4464214015722937250</id><published>2008-05-02T06:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T06:19:32.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#11 Chick Magnet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2458355255/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;This pic is often used to get people into the web of deceit.  He's so hot in that other guys car, it makes feel funny down there!  No wonder I got stuck in the web for so long!  Too bad after 2 years I never got to see or ride in it!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4464214015722937250?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4464214015722937250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4464214015722937250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4464214015722937250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4464214015722937250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/11-chick-magnet.html' title='#11 Chick Magnet'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-481232122331559761</id><published>2008-05-01T13:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T13:04:46.322-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#10 The Farm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2456584703/"&gt;Old Mr. Brett had a farm E...I...E...I...O...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooh typing the "..." creeps me out, you all should know what I mean&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-481232122331559761?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/481232122331559761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=481232122331559761' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/481232122331559761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/481232122331559761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/05/10-farm.html' title='#10 The Farm'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-4952775616490680794</id><published>2008-04-30T06:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T06:33:09.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#9 Denial...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2453654002/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;If Brett supposedly doesn't have a brother, ask him who the guy on the right is.  If Brett never had anything to do with a company called ESRC, why is he standing in front of it with his brother who doesn't exist?  I wonder what kind of story he can make up for this one.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-4952775616490680794?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/4952775616490680794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=4952775616490680794' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4952775616490680794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/4952775616490680794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/9-denial.html' title='#9 Denial...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2961388412718068554</id><published>2008-04-29T22:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:20:13.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Come out, Come out, Wherever you are!</title><content type='html'>I wonder why so many people who share similar accounts with the person who created this blog, myself and many others, read and comment, but don't post.  I find this so confusing.  Do some of you feel a certain debt to Brett &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Oliphant&lt;/span&gt;?  Maybe he treated you like a queen and you now feel indebted because of all the expensive things he purchased for you.  Maybe you were not aware that he had at least seven other girlfriends he was doing the same things for at the same time.  Did you ever wonder where all of the money he spent on you came from?  Maybe some of you have moved on or "have more important things to do."  I have many important things to do as well.  But I take my place in this world very seriously and some of those things include acting on a sense of responsibility I feel for helping people to not fall into the same traps I did.  I feel a responsibility for making people accountable for their actions in any way possible and speaking out against people who for whatever the reason, actively and maliciously destroy the lives of others.  I have felt this sense of responsibility when I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mistakenly&lt;/span&gt; introduced this man to some of my friends and watched him manipulate and mislead them the same way he did me.  I will not pretend it didn't happen just to help him save face.  And I also refuse to let one or two people take the burden for all of us.  And there are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so appreciative to the people I have met through reading and visiting this blog the past couple of months and I encourage all of you to write a little bit.  It doesn't take much. The more we write here, hopefully, the less people will fall for his lies and manipulations.  And anyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; for that matter.  Just think, if this blog had been here three years ago, where would all of us be?  Most of us didn't have this information to help steer us away from making some of the biggest mistakes of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not here to destroy a man's character.  Firstly, he has nothing to destroy.  You must first have values and morals to have your character destroyed.  Secondly, the purpose isn't as much to bad-mouth someone who has wronged us as much as it is a coping mechanism and more importantly a warning label for future girlfriends, business partners, and associates.  We don't want anyone else to suffer the way his is making his own family suffer.   It has to stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2961388412718068554?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2961388412718068554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2961388412718068554' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2961388412718068554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2961388412718068554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/come-out-come-out-wherever-you-are.html' title='Come out, Come out, Wherever you are!'/><author><name>Another Thirty-Something</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09084471391624319272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2705384497923883289</id><published>2008-04-29T06:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:36:50.367-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#8 The Tub</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2451842720/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;It looks so clean, it wouldn't hurt Mr. Hygiene to take a bath once and a while. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2705384497923883289?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2705384497923883289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2705384497923883289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2705384497923883289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2705384497923883289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/tub.html' title='#8 The Tub'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-1879765516803794257</id><published>2008-04-28T06:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:37:22.785-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#7 Importance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2448052467/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;Brett looks really important here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-1879765516803794257?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/1879765516803794257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=1879765516803794257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/1879765516803794257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/1879765516803794257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/7.html' title='#7 Importance'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8838446628390418422</id><published>2008-04-27T22:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:48:44.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brett Oliphant has a brother named Bryan.</title><content type='html'>Okay it's starting to get amazing how many people are saying "I asked Brett if he had a brother named Bryan and he said no" I am not just talking about current women that he is screwing, but business acquaintances and others that he has met since he moved out to California.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEOPLE:  DO NOT BELIEVE HIM.  BRETT HAS A BROTHER NAMED BRYAN OLIPHANT AND BRETT IS FROM INDIANA.  MY BLOG IS TALKING ABOUT THE BRETT OLIPHANT THAT WORKS AT SCANALERT / MCAFEE AND HE NOW LIVES IN NAPA, CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't believe me, then why am I posting pictures of the Brett Oliphant that you know?  Why do I have pictures of him at his job?  Why do I have pictures that he sends his prospective girlfriends?  Why do I have pictures of where he lives?  Are things starting to not add up?  That's because he's LYING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;If any of you would like to share a story he's told you trying to discount anything I've said or anyone else has said go ahead and post it as a response here or you can email me at apetersen219@yahoo.com and I will point out the lies and holes in the story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8838446628390418422?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8838446628390418422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8838446628390418422' title='68 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8838446628390418422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8838446628390418422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/brett-oliphant-has-brother-named-bryan.html' title='Brett Oliphant has a brother named Bryan.'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>68</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6530416347934212109</id><published>2008-04-27T16:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T16:51:50.631-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nike+ Sportband</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogsmithmedia.com/www.engadget.com/media/2008/04/4-2-08-nike_sportband.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.blogsmithmedia.com/www.engadget.com/media/2008/04/4-2-08-nike_sportband.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As some of you know, last week I started running every night.  At first I could barely go 1/8th of a mile and that's just a guess.  I'm not up to around 3/4 of a mile.  This sounds pretty pathetic to anyone who is in shape but I'm excited with my results so far.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have these Nike's with this "+" feature I looked into what it actually is.  It used to be for people who had Ipod's, they could monitor the time, distance, pace and calories.  Well I don't have an Ipod and apparently recognizes those of us who use other brands of MP3 players and have come out with the &lt;a href="http://www.engadget.com/2008/04/02/nike-sportband-coach-gets-official/"&gt;Nike+ Sportband&lt;/a&gt;.  After you go running you plug it into your PC and it shows you graphs and all kinds of stuff letting you know details of your jog.  It is so cool that I had to order one.  I can't wait to go jogging then come home and fulfill my dorkness by uploading the data to my PC.  It should be here sometime this week and I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6530416347934212109?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6530416347934212109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6530416347934212109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6530416347934212109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6530416347934212109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/nike-sportband.html' title='Nike+ Sportband'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8102955046342165610</id><published>2008-04-27T14:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:38:02.234-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#6 Too Cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2446637834/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;Way too cool in this pic.  I dig those loafers!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8102955046342165610?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8102955046342165610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8102955046342165610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8102955046342165610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8102955046342165610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/6.html' title='#6 Too Cool'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2251438216719353631</id><published>2008-04-26T13:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:38:22.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#5 The Cars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2442930743/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;Brett's cars that don't seem to exist except for the pictures.  Oh wait, according to him, they're in storage.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2251438216719353631?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2251438216719353631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2251438216719353631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2251438216719353631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2251438216719353631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/5.html' title='#5 The Cars'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-3333436503358881961</id><published>2008-04-25T06:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:38:58.987-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#4 The Crib</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2440841458/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;The Crib&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-3333436503358881961?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/3333436503358881961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=3333436503358881961' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/3333436503358881961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/3333436503358881961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/4_25.html' title='#4 The Crib'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8310222960845758711</id><published>2008-04-24T21:43:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T22:13:06.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jogging, Lightning &amp; Angst</title><content type='html'>I now weigh more than I ever have before (except for when I was pregnant) and it's disgusting.  Although some people say "oh you're fine" I know the truth, I'm getting fat.  One of my clients says to me "oh you're just soft" and then giggles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of it has to do with comfort in my life having somewhat of a 'normal' family life makes me feel better and less stressed most of the time, I guess I should say it's a different stress.  It used to be that when I was stressed and raising my son alone it was a kind of stress where I just didn't need to eat much.  Well now I'm not sure why but the stress makes me want to eat, seemed as if the worse the food is for me the better it tastes.  It's almost like I was getting some sort of adrenaline rush off of eating something I knew was going to add cellulose.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now things have calmed down in the stress arena, probably until next month.  So that leaves me looking at my fat ass and about wanting to puke.  I decided last week I would start jogging, that started Monday night after my night shift that ends at 11pm.  Holy shit my legs felt like lead as I ran on and off for 10 minutes.  Today is the third day of my nightly jogging and it's starting to feel real good.  My legs aren't as incredibly painful the next morning and I feel like I'm doing something productive.  Sure, eating ice cream at 11:30pm then passing out is always fun, but so is knowing I have overcome my hatred for running at least for now.  It also helps me control the angst I have for Mr. Brett Oliphant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight on my way home from the jog it started raining, at first I thought "damnit" however it felt really good because I was pretty hot.  Then the lightning started, it was in the distance so no, I didn't feel much risk for getting zapped.  It was so cool to watch it as I ran that distance back home which luckily was west, right into the lightning.  So now I'm sitting in the porch just typing and listening to the rain and watching the distant lightning.  Seems as if the good stuff either missed us or isn't here yet.  Probably missed us like it usually does.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea, I want to thank the reader of this blog who gave me the tips on the three exercises I can do every day that will also help tone my body.  By the way, my pecs are killing me from the pushups and I can't do squats right now with my legs still in pain from the running.  Thanks a bunch!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The feedback I've received on the Brett Oliphant Photo of the day has been tremendous so I will continue to post them.  Just one a day my friends, I know you might be anticipating the next one already but I'm waiting until the morning to post it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8310222960845758711?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8310222960845758711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8310222960845758711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8310222960845758711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8310222960845758711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/jogging-lightning-angst.html' title='Jogging, Lightning &amp; Angst'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-2734338584508828615</id><published>2008-04-24T06:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:39:30.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#3 Only 15?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2438639548/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;You're only 15?  BTW I have Ferraris!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-2734338584508828615?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/2734338584508828615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=2734338584508828615' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2734338584508828615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/2734338584508828615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/3_24.html' title='#3 Only 15?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-6298062865357857242</id><published>2008-04-22T20:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:39:48.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#2 Superbrett!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2436880126/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;Here I come to save the day!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-6298062865357857242?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/6298062865357857242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=6298062865357857242' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6298062865357857242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/6298062865357857242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/2.html' title='#2 Superbrett!'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-497307882372500859</id><published>2008-04-22T17:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T06:40:14.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture of the day...   #1 I'm Too Sexy</title><content type='html'>Everyone keeps asking me to post here yet I don't always have too much to say so that's why I've just been doing the weekly updates.  I see there are A LOT of people who come here consistently, usually every day, looking for updates.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also had a few people who have been asking about some of the photos you have and some that you've seen online.  I have gathered some of them and decided to do the Brett Oliphant photo of the day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enyjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here for &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/bc219/2434332777/in/set-72157604682678533/"&gt;#1 "I'm Too Sexy"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-497307882372500859?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/497307882372500859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=497307882372500859' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/497307882372500859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/497307882372500859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/picture-of-day.html' title='Picture of the day...   #1 I&apos;m Too Sexy'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-8002428059696515233</id><published>2008-04-20T00:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T01:05:28.397-04:00</updated><title type='text'>9yr old girls like Halo...?</title><content type='html'>Two years ago when I first met Bryan's girls, my son was playing his xbox in the conference room at ESRC on a Saturday. The girls were introduced to Eric and seemed to have very little interest in his mission on Halo. Well now the oldest one is almost as in love with the game as Eric except now they are into Halo 3. Sometimes while I'm in the kitchen I can hear them downstairs plotting out their gameplan for annihilation of the monsters or whatever they are. I just never would have guessed after seeing the extreme lack of interest that day two years ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me think back to when I was a kid, playing on the Coleco or on the Compaq 8088 then finally we got a Nintendo. These kids now would think those games were so lame. Heck, our kids in particular are literally ADDICTED to webkins. We have to demand they go out and play and stay away from the computer because they are constantly trying to do the activity of the hour and then head off to the next mission on Halo 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were kids going outside was entertaining and we knew how to entertain ourselves, these kids act like they don't know what to do with themselves. In a way I just wish they'd go be mischievous or something, just go FIND SOMETHING TO DO! I find myself saying often that it's not the adults job to entertain you after they ask us to come outside too. Shit, when I was a kid I literally remember the neighbors had a dinner bell and when they'd ring it for their son Joe, I'd have to go home too. They had to ring a bell to get us to come home... now we have to argue with our kids to stay outside! I have train tracks behind my house, live three houses from a graveyard on a street that dead ends. You can't tell me that kids &lt;10yrs old can't find SOMETHING to do. They even have walkie talkies that have a range of several miles! Can't you kids do something with what's given to you? At least play hide and seek or something? Damn! Although it doesn't really have anything to do with lack of going outside my ranting has made me think about that Socrates quote... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for&lt;br /&gt;authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place&lt;br /&gt;of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their&lt;br /&gt;households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They&lt;br /&gt;contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties&lt;br /&gt;at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in regards to some of the Brett Oliphant bullshit that's going on I have had some people asking about when court is, this and that, etc... At this point it's looking like the ball will start rolling in May. Stuff keeps getting moved up date wise so really we don't know at this point. Several people have been contacting me stating that they hope that Brett goes to jail because they too were deceived, lied to, etc... in business and in personal lives. I just find it AMAZING that not one person, NOT ONE PERSON has had anything nice to say about Brett Oliphant. The outpour of concern for Bryan is tremendous and the level of hate for Brett is just out of this world. I sure do pray that the the legal system sees what really went on here! Oh speaking of praying, I heard that the church that his dad attended before he moved to Napa was "praying" for Brett. LOL! I wonder what the load of bullshit the church was fed that would make them want to pray for him! What a bunch of shit! I feel sorry for anyone that wasted a thought on him. You know what though, now that I say that, being raised Christian I feel as if the good thing to feel is that he should be prayed for. He is a sick sick bastard and maybe if people pray for him he will destroy less lives in the future. Personally I do pray for him, for him to be held legally responsible for this stuff and therefore cannot hurt anyone ever again. I have a bad feeling that at 29yrs of age he has plenty of time to screw over some more people. I hope this blog lives on and can help those in the future...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-8002428059696515233?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/8002428059696515233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=8002428059696515233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8002428059696515233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/8002428059696515233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2008/04/9yr-old-girls-like-halo.html' title='9yr old girls like Halo...?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112472664047061975</id><published>2005-08-22T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T11:05:16.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell must have frozen over...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This gives two possibilities:&lt;br /&gt;1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.&lt;br /&gt;2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So which is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you, and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112472664047061975?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112472664047061975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112472664047061975' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112472664047061975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112472664047061975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/hell-must-have-frozen-over.html' title='Hell must have frozen over...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112451836627116190</id><published>2005-08-20T01:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-20T01:12:46.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>self induced insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I wanted to share this song that really is awesome, it’s &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/~bc219/misc/Skin - U2 and Frank Sinatra.mp3"&gt;U2 and Frank Sinatra singing a song called Skin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I meant to put it in the post earlier but I forgot.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oh yea also was doing something naughty, drinking Canadian Club from a Crown Royal flask… eh… you’ll have that sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112451836627116190?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112451836627116190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112451836627116190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112451836627116190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112451836627116190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/self-induced-insanity.html' title='self induced insanity'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112451693479293687</id><published>2005-08-20T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-20T00:48:54.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>running out of strength</title><content type='html'>Tonight is just one of those nights for me, where I feel like I don’t know where to go next.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It wasn’t a bad week, I just worked my ass off.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mentally I feel fine just tired…&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Tonight is one of those nights where I came home and got totally inebriated.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I wanted to type earlier but I couldn’t concentrate.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Sometimes I wish I could just cry but I cant as I must go on, no time to cry.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Fear has taken over my mind in many ways lately, I realize it, I see it, I hate it but its there.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’ve never been so scared in my life as I am right now…&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As much as I don’t want to say it I’m just running out of that pseudo strength that I portray daily.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I’m totally lost and I can’t believe I’m typing this.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I better hit save before I kill it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112451693479293687?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112451693479293687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112451693479293687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112451693479293687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112451693479293687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/running-out-of-strength.html' title='running out of strength'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112442844451628103</id><published>2005-08-19T00:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T00:14:04.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP Hayes Hamlet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It’s been years since I’ve seen you, we weren’t ever close friends but we had some good times, the few that we did share.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Whether you wanted it to end or it was a mistake it was apparently your time to go.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Until we meet again, may you rest in peace…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112442844451628103?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112442844451628103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112442844451628103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112442844451628103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112442844451628103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/rip-hayes-hamlet.html' title='RIP Hayes Hamlet'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112434882982435754</id><published>2005-08-18T02:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T02:16:34.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another night of the same…</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;…manic insomnia as I call it. Now that I think about it, maybe it’s not even insomnia. It’s more like my time of the day to do as I please and entertain my brain. As late as it gets I never want to stop, eventually my body will begin to shut down, if I haven’t already forced myself to surrender to the sandman for the simple fact I have to get up at 7am. I have a rule with myself not to stay up past 2, and I’m 8 minutes from that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;It was a strange week, more injuries to friends and others, good ol zotob worm and just shit in general. People have been assholes this week but I’ve put on a happy face and chosen to ignore them. I got this cool Blogspot add-on for Word and I can post from within Word! How cool!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I am going to start another blog which will be a log of things to do with my sons father and their relationship, since he’s not taking him every other weekend (as his ordered visitation) yet says he never gets to see him, owes over $13,000 in child support, causes much headache to me in general and I figure I could use this info in the future in court. Indiana now figures child support partially on the amount of time spent with the child (the less time you spend with child, the more support you pay) and my goal is make him pay the price of not giving a fuck about either of us over the last 6yrs. When I take him back to court I will have some kind of documentation stating how often he actually spent with his son… He thinks he has it bad now… I’m tired of the bullshit, the promises, the lack of respect… I’m sick of not being able to go to the grocery store you pathetic motherfucker as you work “under the table” so neither my son or the daughter of the amazon bitch can get any money. You often talk about going to Arizona… well you know what? Do all four of us a favor and fucking go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Wow… what happened there?  I think I just went psycho a little bit.  It’s past my bedtime. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Yea um one more thing, I also want to make another blog, just for people who don’t know me in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I must sleep... I feel like I'm getting a cold, my throat is scratchy and hurting kinda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&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/9791995-112434882982435754?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112434882982435754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112434882982435754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112434882982435754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112434882982435754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/another-night-of-same.html' title='Another night of the same…'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112415860176667025</id><published>2005-08-15T21:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T21:18:17.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's been awhile since we've really talked (like we used to), I even started to think you didn't care anymore, even though when we talked briefly you acted like it was all good. Now youare back almost acting like the recent past hasn't happened... I had written you off so you couldn't hurt me, there was no way I was going to be hurt again, not even by you. As much as I didn't want to I had to get you out of my mind... although you were never totally gone, I got enough of you out to stay sane. I still don't know if I can do this, it will be quite a journey. You heald me and told me how you missed me, how you were so sorry... As much as I want to make you say for what, I don't want to think about it, I'm just glad you are here now. I have always considered myself a strong person, as you do yourself, however neither of is ever strong enough to resist each other... How am I supposed to resist this? It's so hard... especially since it seems to good to be true... Does the mindset of thinking something is possibly too good to be true i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;nevitably&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; result in the truth of the saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.  -Henry David Thoreau&lt;/span&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/9791995-112415860176667025?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112415860176667025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112415860176667025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112415860176667025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112415860176667025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112368285016312782</id><published>2005-08-10T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T09:07:30.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>people are people and I still love em...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes, its just a sickness that I have.  I love people and I guess thats what gets me into trouble.  I'm hyper, talk too much, think even more and am trying to enjoy this insanity of life.  Had a couple of firsts yesterday and as they seem weird and small to most people they were somewhat eventful for me. Many of you know that I quit watching TV earlier this year, well last night I actually sat down and watched a TV show for the first time since then.  The show happened to be House, I liked that show when I watched TV so it wasn't painful and grueling to watch it like most of the shit on the TV.  Then I posted on hektik.org which I've never done before.  It was very weird typing on a site considering the amount of traffic it gets.  At least here there aren't too many people who read this.  Well I better finish getting ready for work.  Have a good day people!&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/9791995-112368285016312782?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112368285016312782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112368285016312782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112368285016312782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112368285016312782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/people-are-people-and-i-still-love-em.html' title='people are people and I still love em...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112346535476390951</id><published>2005-08-07T20:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-07T20:44:18.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this time it was someone I know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;...again. I just got a phone call from a cop friend of mine that a friend of mine from work has been badly injured in a motorcycle accident. Those crotch rockets are so dangerous... they are fun but so dangerous. Neither him or his girlfriend were wearing a helmet, both are critical and were air lifted to the hospital. I am so glad they are alive at least, although his teeth are knocked out and has a broken neck and his girlfriend has a skull fracture they are still with us. Just a week ago this same guy tore an abdominal muscle while training for an extreme fighting tournament in Brazil, which he didn't get to go to. He was wearing a chest compression thing at the time of his accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people have been hurt over the past month or so, it is very strange. I don't know whats going on and I hope it ends soon. I keep thinking that it's going to stop but it isnt. It started with a guy at work who accidentally backed over a guy with his truck (pedestrian was being stupid) and crushed his legs, a week later I broke my foot, two days later my brother got stitches on his face, AJ tears his abdominal muscle and now wrecks his bike. I hope its over...  Get well soon AJ&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/9791995-112346535476390951?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112346535476390951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112346535476390951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112346535476390951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112346535476390951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/this-time-it-was-someone-i-know.html' title='this time it was someone I know...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112338607974362145</id><published>2005-08-06T22:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T23:23:53.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>essence of baby puke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm sitting here in a baby &lt;a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/movies/1597784/"&gt;puke&lt;/a&gt;/drool soaked shirt eating a bag of honey roasted cashews and Coke slurpee and I decided to type. I never cared for small children too much until I had my own who is now too big to baby. (I am not even allowed to stay at the barber shop when he's getting his hair cut.) Now that he's older I don't want a baby, but my maternal instincts really like them. It's always great to be around a small baby to hold and smell and cuddle, makes me feel almost.. hmm... complete in a way for the time bieng. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I got to see my 3 month old nephew today and yesterday and I'm so happy. Yesterday I let his mom mop and scrub my floors to earn some money so her and father and the baby came over. Before they came over, we were at their house, where they were arguing and fighting pretty bad about some stupid shit. On the way to our house my son started crying in the car about how his dad and I aren't together and how he dosen't know why we used to have to fight like we did, etc... Basically my son was having issues because we just witnessed their craziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home, they got there too shorltly after where they continued to argue (and I started to wonder how she was going to do my floors while they faught). I left and had some errands to run and came back to them fighting some more. I leave for almost 2hrs and they faught most of the time and she didn't get much done like she could have. (Keep in mind they would be evicted if they didn't pay their rent by this morning.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was with my sons father, Eric, he was a total jerk to me and treated me like Keith was treating Melissa last night. Keith (Eric's brother) always told me how he'd never treat his girl like that, especially his kids mom. Well, after Keith called Melissa a fucking bitch one more time last night I finally went off on him. How could he talk to her like this, how could he treat her like this? She was scrubbing my kitchen and bathroom floors to help pay rent because he got laid off... How could he be such an asshole? I finally told them how they way they were acting earlier caused my son to cry about his dad and start getting all emotional and how they are just going to end up with the same thing. These two have been dating for like 8 years, why can't they just get along? Why could people get married back in the day and stay married forever? It's called communication. COMMUNICATION PEOPLE ... WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, I am still sitting here in my now dry &lt;a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/movies/1597784/"&gt;puked&lt;/a&gt; on shirt and I think I'm going to change...&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/9791995-112338607974362145?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112338607974362145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112338607974362145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112338607974362145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112338607974362145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/essence-of-baby-puke.html' title='essence of baby puke'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112322051767679326</id><published>2005-08-05T00:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T09:39:08.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>they must know I don't watch tv</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;...everyone dosen't watch TV but we all buy things with UPC's. Okay wow, I was wrong about them sending me some kind of kit for TV wactching, or my lack of, instead they have sent me a device to track my shopping habits. After reviewing their propaganda, I have found that they want me to take this thing to the store, scan every item I buy, enter the price, let them know if I have a coupon and other stupid questions, then go back and transmit this to them via whatever. Nice try guys but I don't think so, instead I have chosen to take this thing apart and check it out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00126.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.7V 600mAh Lithium Ion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00127.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ribbon cable goes to laser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00129.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blurry shot of laser while lifed up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00130.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another shot... LCD faces down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00133.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scanning my leg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rampage.datacruz.com/~bc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rampage.datacruz.com/%7Ebc219/pics/AC%20HomeScan/DSC00132.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepare all you want...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopeflly they don't want this thing back, although there are instructions on how to send it back if you want to, nothing says I have to nor does it say I will be billed for keeping it. I've already managed to break the ground wire for the speaker off the pc board - it was annoying anyway...&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/9791995-112322051767679326?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112322051767679326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112322051767679326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112322051767679326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112322051767679326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/they-must-know-i-dont-watch-tv.html' title='they must know I don&apos;t watch tv'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112321502749635744</id><published>2005-08-04T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T23:12:45.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wow what a strange day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today was very interesting, a lot of werid things happened today. People at work being weird, friends being weird, many encounters with the injured and odd interaction with others just to name a few things. I won't go too much into detail because theres no reason but it was just crazy. I laughed a lot too today, mostly at the insanity of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was pretty excited when I got home because there was a package on my porch. I got in the house turned on the light so I could finally see what my prize was... wtf... it's something from AC Nielsen, some big box of shit apparantly. I am assuming that it's some TV thing or something but how the hell did I get picked for this? I quit watching tv in March, if thats what's in the box, I'll be glad to tell them that. Now I'm curious as to whats in it... Holy shit it's some weird little computer scanning thing... it says AC Nielsen Home Scan. WHAT IS THIS!?!?!?! Now I have to take a pic of this... I cannot believe this, how did I end up with this thing and what is it?!!??!!? Well heres a pic of it, now I'm going to find out what this is... Wow... what an end to my day.... not a bad day but an odd one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bc219.com/yoyo/ACwtf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://bc219.com/yoyo/ACwtf.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/9791995-112321502749635744?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112321502749635744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112321502749635744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112321502749635744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112321502749635744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/wow-what-strange-day.html' title='wow what a strange day'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112313348566877336</id><published>2005-08-04T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T00:33:02.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TRICLOSAN - What is it and why should I care?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Registered by the EPA as a pesticide, Triclosan is commonly found in many household items such as soaps, cosmetics, lotions, mouthwashes, toothpaste, etc... The overuse of Triclosan has not only made many bacteria resistant by gene mutation but it also kills off the good bacteria that our bodies and environment need to survive. Many of the bacteria that gets immediately destroyed by the Triclosan would normally be killing off bad bacteria, but is now dead, whereas the now resistant bad bacteria not only lives after the Triclosan contact but also becomes stronger and even more resistant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Triclosan is a chlorophenol, which is a class of chemicals believed to be carcenegic - especially when combined with other things many of us come in contact with daily, such as chlorine in our cities water supply. Did you know that combining Triclosan with chlorine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;will produce a nice chloroform gas in your body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Triclosan actually would burn your skin if the "phenol" wasn't there to numb your nerve endings. The sad thing is that many people are mistaken by Triclosan and even though they think they are doing the best for themselves or their families, they are really hurting them and the rest of our us terribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time choose the product that dosen't boast it's anti-bacterial features and while you're at it, if perscribed antibiotics, take all of them and do not quit taking them until they are gone. If for some reason you don't finish them do not give them to other people and don't throw them into our water supply! Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please check out this really informative site that my friend made:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stoptriclosan.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://www.stoptriclosan.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad I am now aware of the issues with Triclosan and I hope you are as well.&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/9791995-112313348566877336?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112313348566877336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112313348566877336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112313348566877336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112313348566877336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/triclosan-what-is-it-and-why-should-i.html' title='TRICLOSAN - What is it and why should I care?'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112304667589047117</id><published>2005-08-03T00:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T08:52:11.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we're not all that stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It just really bothers me when people treat me like I'm stupid, especially when they know better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&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/9791995-112304667589047117?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112304667589047117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112304667589047117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112304667589047117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112304667589047117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/08/were-not-all-that-stupid.html' title='we&apos;re not all that stupid'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112286076134007827</id><published>2005-07-31T20:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-31T20:46:01.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>/disconnect</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bc219.com/yoyo/camping/DSC00117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://bc219.com/yoyo/camping/DSC00117.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fire, water and fresh air are some things that really excite me.  As I sat late at night watching my masterpiece in awe, thinking of all kinds of things and occasionally looking up into the dark country night sky and gazing into the galaxy, I started thinking about why I was here.  I was here to disconnect from the bullshit and the not so bullshit that consumes my brain on a daily basis.  It was nice to /quit the real world for a while and only think about my fire and my tan, even though the right leg will not be so lucky.  Even though I am so tired now I can barely type, I would do it again in a heartbeat.  Hats off to Cheri for her master chef skillz... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112286076134007827?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112286076134007827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112286076134007827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112286076134007827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112286076134007827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/disconnect.html' title='/disconnect'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112252680106495256</id><published>2005-07-27T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T00:00:01.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lack of control when I thought I had the most</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Often times I refer to being able to turn off things.  That all started when I turned off being tickleish.  My uncle would tickle torture us until we couldn't breathe and it sucked so I learned how to turn it off.  Anyways, yesterday, a guy at work brought his dog in for a few hours, as I sat there in the same room as this 12+yr old chocolate lab she found much interest in my cast and my toes.  She kept insisting on licking my toes which tickled the hell out of my toes.  It was rediculous and I almost enjoyed it in some weird way, as I kept letting her lick them however I was totally unable to turn off the tickleishness.  It was totally crazy and not only am I not used to being tickled, I'm definately not used to that lack of control over my own mind!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112252680106495256?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112252680106495256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112252680106495256' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112252680106495256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112252680106495256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/lack-of-control-when-i-thought-i-had.html' title='lack of control when I thought I had the most'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112238480937206203</id><published>2005-07-26T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T08:47:05.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mind ownage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I tried so hard and even fooled myself for a while. I wasn't am not yet able to turn it off, how I feel about you. You dissed me in a weird way, although I totally undersand it hurt terribly, and for a moment you were "that guy." I wish you knew how much I can relate. I accepted it and decided to go on. As much as I claim to be able to turn it off and not let things bother me, really, I am weak. The way you made me feel was like no one ever has before... every minute of that day was almost like a life I didn't know. I guess thats why it made it so hard, maybe it would have been better if it was some bitter ending, maybe thats the way things should be. As much as I keep trying to block this out every day, it keeps haunting me like the old man in this house who I've grown to accept. This is a new type of acceptance for me, this is not something I am used to. The way I felt that day (especially when you helped me up out of the chair on the sidewalk and heald me in your arms) was not a way I am used to feeling. This is all just crazy, I didn't think I still had issues with this but I do and I just thought it would feel good to type about it... Maybe now I can finally get over this madness.  I sometimes wonder if you read this site, if you do just know that I'm not psycho obsessed, I just have issues too... May I ask one thing of you if you do read this? When you get that :) occasionally, please do what it wants you to... smile...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and with the world comes misery...  confidant sums it up nicely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I better post this before I kill it.  ugh!!&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/9791995-112238480937206203?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112238480937206203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112238480937206203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112238480937206203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112238480937206203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/mind-ownage.html' title='mind ownage'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112224825963203635</id><published>2005-07-24T18:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T00:10:57.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't stand you, but I didn't realize it</title><content type='html'>With the Jim Deka Trio playing in the background I sat near the farmers pond's waters edge talking to some people I don't know very well, and a couple I didin't know at all. I spent a couple hours talking to this girl who finally asked me if I went to school with her. Turns out we went to elementary, middle and part of high school together. When she told me her name I literally said something like "haahah holy shit!" because I really couldn't stand this bitch in school. She was one of those who I hated with a passion, one of those who I fatnasized beating to a bloody pulp. This bitch not only gained about 50lbs (to a normal weight/size) from what I knew her as which was a tiny skeletal figured I could easily break in half. In school this bitch was a lower end cheerleader who thought she was cool as hell and eveyone loved her because she was popular. /me gags.. Anyway, she spent a while telling me about how in high school she learned that her popular friends weren't good friends at all and started waking up. She then tells me about how she ran into some other popular bitch that I hated too, about a year ago, who talked down to her and degraded her to her face about how she works for a daycare. She said she couldn't believe how fake these people could be. I just thought the whole thing was insane, I mean I seriously hated this bitch in school to the highest degree, and here I am talking to her about life and enjoying the conversation. It was very crazy and hard not to constantly think about how much I had previously hated her, it was werid. I felt almost as if I should still hate her but it was if I was almost tricked, like I couldn't hate her now, I had already spent hours talking to her before I realized I hated her...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112224825963203635?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112224825963203635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112224825963203635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112224825963203635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112224825963203635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-cant-stand-you-but-i-didnt-realize.html' title='I can&apos;t stand you, but I didn&apos;t realize it'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112203990024757751</id><published>2005-07-22T08:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T08:54:25.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another one of those things to make one stronger...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 177px; height: 148px;" src="http://www.bc219.com/yoyo/legs.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I've been dealing with this broken foot now for a week, a week as of yesterday 6:00pm. Last night at the same exact time, exactly seven days later I destroyed the ankle of my good foot. I have been crawling since last night, trying to heal this sprain as fast as possible. Currently the "good" foot feels better then the broken one. As I layed on the floor at work last night, I almost started crying, I just wanted to give up, then I rememberd how that is not an option. This just another one of "those things" in life that will make me stronger. Even though my scabbed knees (from original fall) are now torn open and my back hurts now, I must go on. I will not let anything get in the way of my goals, yes, men and now this have slowed me down the last few weeks, but it will not stop me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;FEAR MY UBER HEALING SKILLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I WILL PERSEVERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112203990024757751?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112203990024757751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112203990024757751' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112203990024757751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112203990024757751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/another-one-of-those-things-to-make.html' title='another one of those things to make one stronger...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112184544451160935</id><published>2005-07-19T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T19:17:30.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a thanks to the men who have given me hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I stood in the shower just a few minutes ago, I started to think about the previous post. Although I don't regret anything I typed there, I felt as if I should give a thanks to some of the men who have given me hope, instead of focusing on those who have attempted to crush it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey, technically you were the first crush I had, I will never forget those days back when we were a mere 3-8yrs old. The seemingly endless summers we played in the corn fields, caught tadpoles in the retention pond, played in the sandbox and tortured our younger brothers. Coming home when we heard the dinner bell, outside from dawn to dusk, we knew nothing but play. I have a picture of you when you were three, that I keep, framed, and I will never let it go, for it reminds me of those times of no worries. Do you remember how we used to keep the TV on in your livingroom and constantly check to see if the Smurfs were on thru the outside window? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You taught me everything from your anatomy playing doctor to how to play with GI Joe's and He-Man to the sweetness of childhood crushes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that boy that I met in Cancun, I forgot your name many years ago, but even at age 12 or however old we were, we seemed to fall in love that night on the beach. Your parents were with the PIA (Printing Industries of America) at a convention as were mine. It seemed as if we talked all night as our parents got shitfaced at the bar together, every year after that I looked for you in Hawaii or wherever the PIA confrences were, and I never saw you again. Short lived experience, but one I'll never forget. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You taught me that magical feeling you get when you are near someone you care about deeply. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Kevin, you are my mom's friend's son, I will never forget the few times I did spend with you, and especially the night where both of us decided to lay in the snow (actually on the snow since it had that ice coating) and look at the stars. We just talked about life and stared at the stars for so long that night, although I never had feelings for you as a boyfriend (you didn't live close anyways) I felt a connection with you, you were a true man, a boy then, who would become a real man. I remember the time we rode in your moms station wagon somewhere and were so embarassed we ducked when other cars drove by. You taught me that there can be people in your life that are not meant to be there forever, but are there enough times randomly to remind one of the sweetness of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Josh, you were my first long term boyfriend, I just want you to know, whenever I complain about my previous asshole boyfriends, I don't really mean you. I think you think that sometimes, but it's just that I find it easier to categorize you all together. I am so glad we are still friends, even if it took several years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You taught me how to love and hurt at the same time, how to deal with it like an adult and how to go on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;r2a1g9e (JD&amp;Mondo), I will always remeber the fun we had as teenagers terrorizing our local mabell and other insane shit, the times were great. I am glad that after so many years of seperation we are now together again, even though it's online and not here in real life. I tremendously value you guys as friends and am blessed to have you in my life. You both have taught me so many things. You guys are there for me when I'm down and when I'm an arrogant bitch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;JD, you have taught me not to ask, but to google and bailed me out of hard times, and Mondo you have always been there for me and taught me some invalueable life lessons amongst many other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;James, you let me type to you for hours on end, you never judge me for who I am or what I believe, I feel like I can tell you anything and I've known you forever, even though over the last 10yrs, 99% of our relationship has been online. I was never afraid to have you come stop at my house for the weekend although I'd never met you, fuck all of them for thinking you could be a serial killer! This isn't YAHOO! personals! Thank you for letting me type my insanity to you, you have taught me that there are sweet and caring men out there, even if they're not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Kenny, you know the hurt in life all too well it seems and have always been there for me when I needed someone to talk to. You always seem to make me happy when I've got something to complain about. You've given me strength when I had little or none at all. I first fell in love with your site and almost cried earlier when you said you were taking it down this year. Thank you for sending me to the bathroom to take care of that. The things you type on the site gives me this warm fuzzy feeling inside, it's almost comfort in insanity. Thank you for encouraging me to type my hurt, even if it's in .txt to myself, it has saved me many times. Between the site and our PMs I have to say that you have taught me that life can suck badly, but it's never THAT bad, someone always has it worse or has been there before, done that and succeeded, that I should quit fucking complaining and handle my business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kavan, as you started as my brothers childhood friend, I never really knew you that well. I am glad we started hanging out a few years ago and I could help you with your girlfriend issues. Sometimes I wish I could take my own advice better. Thanks for being there for myself and my son so many times, keeping your cool with me, teaching me and guiding me. It has helped me a lot bieng able to observe you and your mom, as I feel some sort of security knowing that you, your mom and brother have been through a lot of what I'm going through right now. Thank you for being there for me, for answering the phone when when you won't for others and in general bieng there for me if I need a hand. You have taught me to calm down, relax, step back and chill out and take my own advice and as a single parent life dosen't have to be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Bryan, I never expected for this to begin, nor did I ever expect it to end so fast. The times we spent together I will never forget, nor will the things I have learned from you. Even though that was a really crazy situation, especially then all ending on the phone last night, I am so glad I met you. Never have I been saddened how I was the other night because it was a dis how I've never been dissed before. I totally understand and hope I didn't fuck you up too bad, never has anyone made me feel like you did that day. I will never forget it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don't worry, you aren't "that guy" yet, but if you let your hurt drive your life, you will be.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You also taught me that all men aren't assholes and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;that one dosen't have to hurt all the time.  I only wish you could understand that dosen't have to be that way...  In time my friend... in time...  Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is the point where I begin to feel guilty, as I sit here and type I realize how many more good men I've had in my life then bad. There are many of you that I didn't type about tonight, I simply am tired and must sleep. So many of you have gotten me through thick and thin and I just can't name you all. This was simply a way for me to remind myself that I am wrong when I say all men are evil. I couldn't be more wrong. It's all in how I choose them... Somehow it's just hard to change that. So for now guys, cheers to you for having some kind of positive influence in my life. I wish I could name you all... I better hit save before I re-read this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Strangers are just friends waiting to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                  - unknown &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112184544451160935?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112184544451160935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112184544451160935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112184544451160935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112184544451160935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/thanks-to-men-who-have-given-me-hope.html' title='a thanks to the men who have given me hope'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-112182478650352753</id><published>2005-07-19T20:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T20:59:46.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the ability to turn it off</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I thank my parents for messing with my mind as they raised me, and my past friends and boyfriends who have mindfucked me to the point of no return.  Thank you for making me learn how to turn it off.  Whether it's turning off my tickleishness because my uncle tickle torturing me to the point where I couldn't breathe, or my friend accusing of liking her boyfriend (who I've known longer then her), or from the all the men who have ripped my heart out, threw it on the ground and spit on it.  All this has made the last few years so much easier for me.  Now all I have to do is just turn it off.  Just like anything else, a lightswitch or my pc, I can just turn it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get scared and wonder if becoming cold like this will hurt me in the end.  It's become so easy to just turn the feelings off it almost feels wrong.  Is one supposed to live their life feeling like this?  As much as it hurts deep down, it really is much easier, on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no regrets in life, and in order to have that I had to learn how to make my experiences whether good or bad life lessons.  Many times we don't learn our lessons even after much repititon even though we might even realize it.  Kinda reminds me of a saying... If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To gain that which is worth having, it may be necessary to lose everything else."&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Burnadette Devlin, The Price of My Soul, 1969&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-112182478650352753?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/112182478650352753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=112182478650352753' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112182478650352753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/112182478650352753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/07/ability-to-turn-it-off.html' title='the ability to turn it off'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-111068850958340986</id><published>2005-03-12T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T23:35:09.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>there's a first time for everything</title><content type='html'>Today was the first time I have ever colored my hair in any way.  I got a hair cut and some great highlights from a really great ex-coworker.  I was tired of my dark blonde (once very light) hair and couldn't take it anymore.  I always had this thing against putting chemicals in my hair (except those for which are used for cleaning) but today I broke one of those little rules I used to live by.  I am reallyglad I had it done because it looks so much better and I wish I would have done it sooner! Thanks Ecko!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-111068850958340986?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/111068850958340986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=111068850958340986' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/111068850958340986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/111068850958340986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/03/theres-first-time-for-everything.html' title='there&apos;s a first time for everything'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110710598601898358</id><published>2005-01-30T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T12:28:52.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:webdings;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was going to type something here but it was corny and I changed my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 389px; height: 284px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/misc/DSC02808_2.jpg" /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:webdings;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  No words needed for this pic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110710598601898358?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110710598601898358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110710598601898358' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110710598601898358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110710598601898358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/back-in-day.html' title='Back in the day...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110702145920512689</id><published>2005-01-29T13:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T12:57:39.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cha cha cha changes</title><content type='html'>       well bc has been bugging me to post something in her blog, so i have now been up the past few days writing rough drafts, revisioning, making sure the article is in proper APA format and cleaned of spelling mistakes.  it's tough work to write a blog, or even, uh, help write a blog.  real hard work.  and i dont get paid by you freeloading blog browsers.  a little compensation would be nice.  i'll post my amazon wish list sometime so you can alleviate your guilt for all you moochers.   anyhow, i decided to take all those revisions and drafts and burn them so i can keep warm at night since the heat is off (thats what i get for writing a FREE blog) and instead decided to give you some shit about trillian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       what is trillian, you ask?  its a program that links together multiple instant message programs all into one nice little package so that you dont have to run thousands of message centers on your pc eating up resources on that slow pentium ii 200mhz with 64mb of ram that you have sitting on your desk at work while you unproductively chat away at your bosses expense.   i think you can get it here at http://www.ceruleanstudios.com/downloads/ for you lazy bums that still want a free ride.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       i installed the basic version.  why?  because i dont want to get used to the pro version and then have it disable on my later.  i'll have grown accustomed to the "speacial features" (like video chat or whatever) and then i'll want them more and more, yearning for those pre-trial days of yor.  so instead, i'll just use the stupid lame version and live with it, never knowing if the food could have tasted better, the grass was greener, etc etc etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       well, it actually works pretty well.  im surpised.  except it does some stupid things once in a while.. like, it says im in "brb" state when im not.  or maybe it only shows that to me.  i dont know.   it doesnt save some preferences.  its kinda buggy.  but i guess thats what i get for being a freeloader, right?  jeah.  so dont ever compain about misspelled words in my blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       functionality wise, however, the thing does very well.  it delivers on what it promises to do and is pretty easy to use and figure out, incorperating all the nifty features from both the chat clients nicely.  i really need that, too, because i have dissed some chicks hardcore on  yahoo that i still need to stay invisible from, and let me tell ya, im not letting them see me online.   if trillian didnt support this, there would be no chance in me using it.  it also underlines nifty words which took me a bit to figure out.  i was like "i didnt spell 'belief' wrong you stupid chat client" when it popped up a wikipedia entry for "belief".  now THAT is handy.  no longer will i be chatting with a psuedo-intellectual hipster who brings up some obscure reference to Rheostatics and not know who the fuck they're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       what im really curious about, however, is why people use msn.  thats why i got trillian to begin with, so i could use yahoo (the superior feature and bot laden chat client) AND use msn (the buggy and moronic interface chat client that doesnt even send offline messages) since i have some idiot friends that use only msn.   i refuse to even associate with an aim user.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        and fuck you if you know who Rheostatics are without having to look it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                     ~jd~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110702145920512689?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110702145920512689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110702145920512689' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110702145920512689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110702145920512689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/cha-cha-cha-changes.html' title='cha cha cha changes'/><author><name>jd303</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110671074941902678</id><published>2005-01-25T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-25T22:39:09.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fake people</title><content type='html'>Yeah.  You know who you are.  I know you can't help it, you've gotten to the point where you don't know any better and it's beyond something you can control but you need to realize that you aren't so special.   I'm tired of these fake ass people that I have to deal with constantly.  From backstabbing co-workers to other parents at my sons school... they're everywhere.  There's no where to run.  The only thing I can do is accept them for what they are and that I can't change them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why this jerk is sitting across the street with his beats in the car turned all the way up.  You'd think he'd think about the fact that it't 10:30PM and people in the neighborhood might be sleeping.  Why would he car anyways?  How do I know it's a he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad someone else called code enforcement about my neighbors non-moving cars/trucks.  I was tired of bieng the mean one.  I hope he gets the junk shit towed for good this time.  We got 13" of snow that isn't properly being plowed because this fool cant get his junk shit off the street.  I tell ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People annoy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110671074941902678?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110671074941902678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110671074941902678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110671074941902678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110671074941902678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/fake-people.html' title='fake people'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110601463496096556</id><published>2005-01-17T21:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T23:24:02.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GE imagination at work - i love you</title><content type='html'> &lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;I just want to let everyone know how much I love GE. I have recently fallen in love with their line of &lt;a href="http://www.gelighting.com/na/home_lighting/products/reveal_main.htm"&gt;Reveal&lt;/a&gt; light bulbs. I often watched the commerical with the guy in jail being interrogated where the cop talks about the felons "seafoam" colored shirt and wondered how their bulbs could possibly make such a difference. I bought a pack a few months ago, and finally installed two bulbs in my bedroom light. I could not believe the difference, the true color and textures of everything really does come out, it's just amazing. I will never ever buy another kind of light bulb ever again and I really hope GE starts to make the Reveal bulbs in some of the more uncommon sizes as well.&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 177px; height: 148px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/misc/reveal.gif" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;While I'm at it I'd like to let everyone know &lt;a href="http://www.imaginationcubed.com/LaunchPage"&gt;Imagination Cubed&lt;/a&gt; - it's GE's really really cool drawing board plus much much more!  It's in flash and its just an amazing example of technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 29px; height: 39px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/misc/reveal3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;GE, can I come invent for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110601463496096556?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110601463496096556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110601463496096556' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110601463496096556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110601463496096556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/ge-imagination-at-work-i-love-you.html' title='GE imagination at work - i love you'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110567160045480069</id><published>2005-01-13T21:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-14T15:13:44.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat shit and die Saddam! </title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Saddam can eat shit and die. He had millions of people murdered, raped, poisoned etc. for no reason. Saddam, Kofi and the UN in general stole the Iraq people's oil for food money and lived rediculously lavished lifestyles. To me I don't see too big of a difference between him and Hitler, who murdered over 6 million Jews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of the Iraqi people are now happy that they are no longer persecuted by that asshole. It's sad that the majoity of our media wants you to think otherwise.&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/9791995-110567160045480069?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110567160045480069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110567160045480069' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110567160045480069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110567160045480069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/eat-shit-and-die-saddam.html' title='Eat shit and die Saddam! '/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110550291597798133</id><published>2005-01-11T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T23:08:35.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>trans-dimensional experience</title><content type='html'>names changed to protect the insane...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; here's a good description of what it was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; imagine that scene in the matrix when neo gets sucked through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; but there were also tons of shit like trying to pour through THIS way and i was just kicking ass stopping them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; when i woke up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i was fucking pissed off that i didnt astral project&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i mean *REALLY* pissed off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; it was like whatever the things were were trying to prevent me from doing it and at the same time break through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; so i was like "fuck you bitches" and went ballistic on them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; man at first i wasnt sure what was up to be honest and i WAS a little freaked out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; for maybe like 1 minute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; then when i realized i had a far greater mental capacity i just started fucking their shit up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i would describe it as like my mental capacity fighting against the mental energy of, say, a squirrel or a chipmunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; well, hundreds of chipmunks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i tried to meditate and trance out right after but with absolutely no success whatsoever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i wasnt the least bit tired, either, so i couldnt fall back asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; come to think of it, maybe i couldnt breath.. well, not couldnt breathe, but just plain "didnt need to"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; breathing was not a concern, it was like kinda like "i dont need to breath in this state"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; i could tell my physical body was okay, i wasnt concerned with it, i knew it was in my apartment in my bed, i was just concerned with my mental energy and, really, i didnt need to be at all because i was *FAR* more powerful then whatever else was anywhere near me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;nutzo&gt; it was truely like if there was a small ant colony in my kitchen and they decided to attack me, so i just start smushing them with my fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110550291597798133?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110550291597798133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110550291597798133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110550291597798133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110550291597798133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/trans-dimensional-experience.html' title='trans-dimensional experience'/><author><name>jd303</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110528154981588291</id><published>2005-01-09T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T09:40:20.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To you:</title><content type='html'>If you are reading this, I just thought I'd let you know, that the previous post was for you too if you didn't figure it out.  Thought we were friends but many times you burned me. I told you my issues with other people and ironically described in detail to you on of my biggest personal ordeals at the time, and now you act the same way. Don't msg me, don't email, and damnit you better not come to my house. It's a shame we can't be friends, but you have proven over and over and over and over again that you do not trust me, although I've done nothing wrong. Take your insecurities and your lack of trust somewhere else, have a good life, and quit blowing up trillian with your meaningless propaganda. Had you wanted to truely be my friend you would have thought about your rediculous actions that you repeated over and over again. I don't fuck around when it comes to people and you should know that. Now leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110528154981588291?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110528154981588291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110528154981588291' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110528154981588291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110528154981588291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/to-you.html' title='To you:'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110519955672172489</id><published>2005-01-08T10:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T10:52:36.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>no shame...</title><content type='html'>First time shame on you.&lt;br /&gt;Second time shame on me.&lt;br /&gt;Third time no shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110519955672172489?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110519955672172489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110519955672172489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110519955672172489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110519955672172489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/no-shame.html' title='no shame...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110469009375830462</id><published>2005-01-02T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T22:06:08.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A night of  Chicago adventure...</title><content type='html'>&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 415px; height: 315px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/ChicagoNYE2004/DSC02864.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent New Years Eve in Chicago this year, thank you Carlos, and it was great. After much walking, train riding and tons of food we made it to Navy Pier, it was wonderful! Suprisingly it wasn't even that cold right on Lake Michigan, the place was thick with people who were drunken and happy. I smoked my first Cuban cigar (only the 3rd cigar I'd ever smoked) and whew... that thing was awesome and so hardcore. I got the craziest buzz of it and it smoked for a long time. So long that I think I accidentally inhaled it a couple times while I walked and puffed it while walking a couple miles from Navy Pier to the CTA train. Then as I sat on the train I started feeling sick for some reason, as I watched all the people packed on the train, and half were drunk as hell and wanting to puke themselves, I thought more and more about puking. The guy in front of me that was so very close to puking on this packed train got off, and about 30 seconds later it was all over. I looked down at the floor and barfed all over the floor. I felt so bad, I meant this train was PACKED and I stank it up like puke so bad, the unfortunate lady behind me managed to get my puke on her leg somehow - wherever you are ma'am, I'm sorry. :) Carlos, thank you so much for the great time and I'm so glad I didn't spend this New Years Eve at home again this year. Pics are here ---&gt; http://gallery.bc219.com/ChicagoNYE2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110469009375830462?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110469009375830462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110469009375830462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110469009375830462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110469009375830462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2005/01/night-of-chicago-adventure.html' title='A night of  Chicago adventure...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110433804293277430</id><published>2004-12-29T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-29T11:34:02.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>0wn3d by shitty daytime TV shows...</title><content type='html'>So I am off of work this week on vacation, no real VACATION, just not working.  Every morning I keep watching these stupid talk shows and I can't help it.  They're addicting and it's not fair.  All I want to do is get motivated to clean, but first Maury, now Jerry, and who's next?!  I love seeing these people with more disfunctional lives than mine!  I decided to sit down and type about these damn shows in hopes that while I reflect on whats going on I will come to the conclusion that I need to get off my ass and do something today.  How does one become so addicted to these shows so fast?  It only takes a couple minutes to get hooked and it's over.  I wish I was one of those who can just choose not to watch them because "they are trash" maybe I'd be a little more productive.  Maybe maybe maybe I wish I wish I wish Coulda Woulda Shoulda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110433804293277430?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110433804293277430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110433804293277430' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110433804293277430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110433804293277430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2004/12/0wn3d-by-shitty-daytime-tv-shows.html' title='0wn3d by shitty daytime TV shows...'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110425323791731924</id><published>2004-12-28T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T12:00:37.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Touch my back to kill a sneeze.</title><content type='html'>Today I was standing in the kitchen with my son as he started to tell me something I felt a sneeze coming on so I said "wait I'm gonna sneeze" and all of a sudden I felt something lightly poking the center of my back and my sneeze went away.   I turned around and my son still had his index finger extended, I asked him "what are you doing?" and he replied with "mom I didn't want you to sneeze, so I made it go away."  I love the childhood innocence too bad his is slowly fading away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110425323791731924?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110425323791731924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110425323791731924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110425323791731924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110425323791731924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2004/12/touch-my-back-to-kill-sneeze.html' title='Touch my back to kill a sneeze.'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110417830737570299</id><published>2004-12-27T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-27T15:49:51.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moral Dilemma: Trash Can Ice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So today I took the trash out and realized that there was a huge block of ice in the bottom of the trash can. I managed to flip the can over and dump it out, but that happened to be in the middle of the alley. I don't know what I was thinking. So all of a sudden I have this huge (approx. 24"x12"x8") block of ice in the alley right behind my house. Now I don't drive back there, but others do. I tried to move it off to the side but it was so heavy and there was no way I could get it completely out of the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 394px; height: 317px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/trashcanice/DSC02786.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;code style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code face="times new roman"&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code face="times new roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;After consulting a few people I decided to go with what I considered in the beginning, salt and hot water. First I dumped an entire thing of salt on the block which sounded really cool as it crackled but that didn't do very much... I shoulda known... well I did but I tried anyway...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code face="times new roman"&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;img style="width: 390px; height: 293px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/trashcanice/DSC02791.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;While this was going on I boiled some water... Now I knew that one pot of water wasn't enough to kill this thing but I knew it'd at least dent this beast. It did... but not by much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;code style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 388px; height: 291px;" src="http://gallery.bc219.com/albums/trashcanice/DSC02794.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So after all that I have decided that I'm done messing with it. I told the only friendly neighbors that I have about this, and to the rest of them... well... I'm sorry to the poor bastard who runs it over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Will I go to hell for this?  I hate moral dilemmas.  At least I tried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;code style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110417830737570299?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110417830737570299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110417830737570299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110417830737570299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110417830737570299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2004/12/moral-dilemma-trash-can-ice.html' title='Moral Dilemma: Trash Can Ice'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9791995.post-110408069469830100</id><published>2004-12-26T11:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-27T22:34:05.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...and so it begins.</title><content type='html'>For some reason today I just decided to jump on the blogging band wagon and start my own. I'm not sure why. Sometimes I think I drive my friends crazy by bitching about my problems to them on irc so maybe I cant vent here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here my son is running around the house on a sugar buzz from Coca-Cola and all the various candy he's eaten this morning - I don't really care though, it's Christmas... why not. I can hear vehicles being launched from one of his toys that keeps hitting what sounds like the glass doors of the entertainment center... oh well. Sometimes, well all the time I think I am too hard on him, but then people tell me how good he is and how they love having him around, so does that justify me riding his ass all the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love lake effect. I was excited to wake up this morning and see it snowing. I guess it all falls into my obsession with extreme weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;code&gt;&lt;/code&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9791995-110408069469830100?l=bc219.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/feeds/110408069469830100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9791995&amp;postID=110408069469830100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110408069469830100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9791995/posts/default/110408069469830100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bc219.blogspot.com/2004/12/and-so-it-begins.html' title='...and so it begins.'/><author><name>bc</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
