<?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-6475281005348593205</id><updated>2011-07-08T04:34:33.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM THE WASTE BASKET FOR WISDOMS USELESS FACTS</title><subtitle type='html'>I am me, all of the time, I can be a friend or a foe. I can be sincere or shallow, I can be humorous or dark. I can be many things, so know this what you are getting at that time it is me, it is not a front I will always answer your questions.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-613935451870689045</id><published>2011-06-22T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T08:56:35.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New games to play!</title><content type='html'>Back to bloogosphere, back to my own little reality!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have created a new game we shall call it Smellevator!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime you walk into a Elevator your goal is to identify all odors present. I know it sounds gross and it is but I get bored on the elevator as I journey from the 2nd floor to the 3rd floor and need to entertain myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other games still in the testing process:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Derail the Train:&lt;/strong&gt; Objective of the game is If you find yourself walking in the middle&amp;nbsp;of a large crowd to stop abruptly and see how many people run into&amp;nbsp;your back. In order to be classified as a Derailment a minimum of three people must crash into you at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Back Up:&lt;/strong&gt; When standing in a crowded area begin to slowly back up&amp;nbsp;and see and how many&amp;nbsp;people you can&amp;nbsp;get to move out of the way. If you can successfuly make it through the crowd&amp;nbsp;without running into anyone you will have achieved&amp;nbsp;Ninja status in back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blair Witch Winning:&lt;/strong&gt; Objective to stand for five minutes&amp;nbsp;with your nose in the corner,&amp;nbsp;hands behind your back,&amp;nbsp;of a busy common area without having someone ask you what you are doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-613935451870689045?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/613935451870689045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=613935451870689045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/613935451870689045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/613935451870689045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-games-to-play.html' title='New games to play!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-643081225411971</id><published>2011-04-22T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T07:23:32.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the Return has been painful!</title><content type='html'>I challenge thee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of the weekend I challenge you to respond to all initial questions or statements such as "Hey" or “Question?” with the most random answer possible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "Question?"&lt;br /&gt;Man: Only on Tuesday but not since Godzilla took over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: Can I ask you question?&lt;br /&gt;Man: It was purple but it chaffed so I stopped wearing it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: Hey&lt;br /&gt;Woman: Nope but if it was up to me Abe Lincoln would be played by Conan O'Brien&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-643081225411971?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/643081225411971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=643081225411971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/643081225411971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/643081225411971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2011/04/oh-return-has-been-painful.html' title='Oh the Return has been painful!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2800499521984876931</id><published>2010-07-15T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T09:29:52.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I wish I were the Hulk.</title><content type='html'>I mean accept for the green skin and the purple pants he's a pretty awesome guy. Granted he has a temper issue but isnt it always directed at someone who is doing something bad? Whats wrong with that. I mean he calms down eventually and has to buy new clothes - You figure he would buy something beside purple but hey maybe thats his thing or maybe it goes best with green skin. But in the grand scheme of things dont we all wish we had the nerve to stand up to something that makes us mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-2800499521984876931?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2800499521984876931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2800499521984876931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2800499521984876931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2800499521984876931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2010/07/sometimes-i-wish-i-were-hulk.html' title='Sometimes I wish I were the Hulk.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-3678138634540592187</id><published>2010-07-13T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T08:35:12.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The joys of Spandex</title><content type='html'>This goes out to all those poeplea who decide it would be a good idea to wear their workout clothes in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost please remember the following rules&lt;br /&gt;Rule number 1 of spandex just because it comes in your size doesnt mean you should wear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule number 2 if it doesnt come in your size that doesnt mean you should buy the smaller size because it stretches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule number 3 - Please remember that if at any point you plan on sweating while wearing your yellow spandex to please wear the appropriate undergarments. A black thong is not listed in the "appropriate"&lt;br /&gt;catagory in this situation. Please note rules 1 and 2 apply to black thongs as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule number 4 - For the sake of small impressionable children and any adult who is not blind, please do not wear an old white sports bra with said spandex and pretend like its a work out top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule number 5 - And this one is probably the most important one of all, for the love of Pete you should never ever ever ever ever evere ever ever bend over at your waist to pick up something on the bottom shelf while wearing the above attire. I believe it breaks one of the Ten Commandments -&lt;br /&gt;Thou shalt not commit murder, because everyone within line of sight wished they were not alive to view that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I want to end with an apology to everyone that had to endure my outfit yesterday it really was a bad choice!&lt;br /&gt;And your welcome for the visual!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-3678138634540592187?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/3678138634540592187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=3678138634540592187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3678138634540592187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3678138634540592187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2010/07/joys-of-spandex.html' title='The joys of Spandex'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-6680717178837052884</id><published>2009-01-23T10:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:41:06.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Guys, Three girls, and four huge packages of toilet paper!</title><content type='html'>I remember the days of peewee football; the Friday Pep rallies, wearing our jerseys to school, getting a special lunch for being on the team. (For those of you not from Texas, football rules the life of an average kid from flag through high school) But some of my fondest memories come from the Friday nights before the games. To wake up to giggling voices as the cheerleaders’ toilet paper every tree in your front yard! Or to be chased from the front yard of the cheerleaders by a very angry father who is not scared to throw things at kids or call your parents and rat you out that you had snuck out of the house at two in the morning. So when you do get home and sneak through your window, your Mom can scare the ever-living crap out of you by jumping out of your closet. Not that, that ever happened I’m just saying it could! But I digress, where was I, oh yes, the other day my wife and I were driving down the road and we saw three “tween” age girls walking down the street carrying four large packages of toilet paper, I’m talking twenty four packs here people. It was actually funny because one of the girls was trying to carry two packages and together they had to of weighed more than her, she was having some trouble. I laughed out loud at these girls because that scene could only lead to one scenario with multiple endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as we drove on the plot thickened – about seventy-five yards behind these girls were two boys, obviously trying hard not to be seen by the girls and appeared they were doing a good job. This changes the scenario completely and in tomorrows blog I will play these two scenarios out in what I would like to call –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MTV The Real World Mode!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-6680717178837052884?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/6680717178837052884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=6680717178837052884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6680717178837052884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6680717178837052884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2009/01/two-guys-three-girls-and-four-huge.html' title='Two Guys, Three girls, and four huge packages of toilet paper!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-7585402897039847194</id><published>2008-12-18T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T18:17:42.367-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day the Coke fell! A Short Epic Tale of Despair and Humor</title><content type='html'>I stepped from the warm safety of my house out into a cold cold world. No really it was like twenty freaking degrees this morning it was bloggin cold! As I briskly walked to my car I felt a certain air about the day it was going to be a good day, I knew. And to be completely honest it did start off that way, the drive in to work although slow was uneventful, work was slow due to the weather as well but little did i know what lurked around the corner of the day, an event so horrific and yet humorous , I fell to my knees and thanked God that I was present to view it. I'll set the mood:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at work and I was in the deli downstairs! I was the forth person in line behind an elderly man, at the front of the line, and two young women from another floor of the building. As we stood there waiting to pay the elderly gentlemanpulle out his wallet and literally started cound out dimes and nickels to pay for his meal. Dont worry he's not poor so I'm not making funn of poor people he said he had just cleaned out the coin jar in his office. So get over yourself. Anyways as we are waiting patinetly this lady walks in, walks right up to the counter and lays down the exact change for a coke from the fountain machine in front of the cashier and walks off. Well the three of us who had been waiting patiently were a little upset but well we didnt want the old guy feeling bad so we kept our moths shut. But what happened next may honestly have been the greatest moment in DELI history! The Line Cutter as I like to call her, and no you're thinking of the wrong kind of COKE, grabbed a cup and put some ice in and placed under the spout, as she pushed the button it started coming real slow it looked like syrup, so the lady does the only logical thing and starts poking at the handle tryiong to make it work. The lady behind the counter freaked and starts yelling in Chinese and English "No stop, please stop, place Chinese words here if you know any, you going to make big mess!" The lady didnt listen and pushed the button one last time! Evidentally the spout was clogged and each time she was pressing the button it was building up pressure behind, well the final push was just to much and the next thing you coke went all over the lady! I mean all over. Imagine if you will standing in front of a two liter of Diet Coke when a package of Mentos has been dropped into it and that is what this lady looked like. The chinese lady just stopped and started laughing "I told you you gonna make big mess!" At that our shock turned into a vengeful laughter! She had gotten her just deserts. And that was the day the coke fell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-7585402897039847194?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/7585402897039847194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=7585402897039847194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7585402897039847194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7585402897039847194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-coke-fell-short-epic-tale-of.html' title='The day the Coke fell! A Short Epic Tale of Despair and Humor'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-3648412664670595918</id><published>2008-11-25T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T10:33:06.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets play "What If..."</title><content type='html'>I shall now take a story from history and change one significant thing and see how the outcome would effect the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The date is October 23, 1888, Klara Hitler has been informed she is pregnant. As she sits in the doctor's office a million thoughts run through her head, "she had already lost three previous children, could she handle losing a fourth? She was still early in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pregnancy&lt;/span&gt; and her husband hadn't noticed the subtle changes. She could easily abort the child and no one would know." An inner &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Battle&lt;/span&gt; began she knew it would be hard to keep that secret but would it be harder to grow attached to another child that would break &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; hearts again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... April 20, 1889, today was the due date of her long lost child. She thought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt; could handle the secret, she thought she could handle the pain, but as time went by it proved to heavy a burden to bare alone. She told in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alois&lt;/span&gt; a couple months after the abortion, he left her. Her friends soon found out and she became an outcast, as she sat living room of her now vacant house , she thought to herself, "What if..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... The date is November 24, 2008, war is still waging at all of our borders. Fro sixty some odd years we had held the German Empire at bay but it seems as though they have tired of our antics. Luckily we are a self sustaining country, However the majority of Europe, along with Australia, South America, and Africa have all been conquered. It is truly the world against the U.S....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Be Continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-3648412664670595918?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/3648412664670595918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=3648412664670595918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3648412664670595918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3648412664670595918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/lets-play-what-if.html' title='Lets play &quot;What If...&quot;'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-155417337626862382</id><published>2008-11-20T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T10:32:00.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The warmth of warn in, comfortable blog. (Aliens be damned!)</title><content type='html'>Okay so I abandoned the alien story sue me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine I'll give you the cliff notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to find out Midgets are really aliens, and they speak French, actually its their native language. They first landed in France in 1357 in hopes of world domination, unfortunately their computers made serious miscalculations and they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; realize the average human was twice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; size! So they bailed on that plan and decided to settle and in and call Earth home. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; why I have a fear a french midgets! Not because they are French or because they are midgets but because they are truly aliens so suck on that "Unsolved Mysteries!" I never saw you air an episode about the The Alien French Midgets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to more intelligent things -&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;quadragammic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;indophysics&lt;/span&gt; of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;glaucometer&lt;/span&gt; factor and how it can be used to determine trajectory of poo flung by a monkey at the zoo. (You had to know that was leading somewhere stupid if you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; been paying close attention to my blog at all!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for my random thought of today: If John and Sue are brother and sister, and Sue and Jennifer are 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ND&lt;/span&gt; cousins twice removed, and Jennifer and Raul &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;arent&lt;/span&gt; related at all and have never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;met, does&lt;/span&gt; a tree still make a sound when it falls and no one else is around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you thought that was random you should have been with me yesterday, I'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; say it involved a 1982 Honda, 2 nuns, a bottle of Gatorade, 3 pieces of floss, a half &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;eaten&lt;/span&gt; burrito and a gallon of red paint, now yesterday was random!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-155417337626862382?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/155417337626862382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=155417337626862382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/155417337626862382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/155417337626862382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/warmth-of-warn-in-comfortable-blog.html' title='The warmth of warn in, comfortable blog. (Aliens be damned!)'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-915768759819091032</id><published>2008-11-13T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T17:40:52.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Alien Probe Incident and all that implies!</title><content type='html'>On Tuesday I was abducted and on Wednesday they said I was annoying and dropped me back on Earth. And I shall now detail my Alien Abduction and the horrors of space travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont remember much from the initial abduction just that one minute I was watching E.T. and and the next thing I knew I was strapped to a steele table about three sizes two small and stairing at the ceiling of a very small room. It was very confusing but hey it wasnt as weird as some of the stuff I had done in high school so I was game. But I have to be honest when the doors opened and THEY walked through well I kinda changed my mind! At first I could only hear movement they seemed to be close to the ground and their language was familiar but I couldnt quite make it out. I was still a little groggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs and thats when I caught my first glimpse of my captors, they were freaking midgets, and there were two of them. Not weird looking beings with tentacles and green skin but they were real honest to goodness midgets! I tried to move but with every struggle the straps grew tighter and the midgets laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh know one of them was coming closer it had something in its hands its slipped it in my ear, my mind was going to melt, wait was that english I could understand the aliens now as clear as if they were human. The smallest one jumped on my chest and slapped in the face, "Hey Dumbo you understand me?" I wanted to throw him across the room but still no slack in the straps. "Yeah I hear you shorty whats the deal with the rough stuff", truth is I was freaking out but there was no way I was letting shorty mcshort stuff know that. "Who the "expletive"are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a freaking alien you "expletive", he screamed. Totally unneccessary I felt but I couldnt back down. "No way your a freaking midget!" He looked frustrated, fine if you don't believe me how about a little in flight movie! He slid a pair of Oakleys over my eyes and tiny screen popped to life. Hey maybe they weren't so bad after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-915768759819091032?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/915768759819091032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=915768759819091032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/915768759819091032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/915768759819091032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/alien-probe-incident-and-all-that.html' title='The Alien Probe Incident and all that implies!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-7678396349831980502</id><published>2008-11-09T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T16:39:15.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A new day dawns!</title><content type='html'>The following occurred bewteen the minutes of 6:59Am and 7:00A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the front I paid for the glue and I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its anticlimactic but its time to move on to bigger and better things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow I'll tell you about the time I was kidnapped by a group of kool- aid drinking, alien worshipping, skin heads who used me as bait for some weird extraterestial being named Milton that never showed up. I never knew that a cell phone, two nine volt batteries, a pair of house slippers, and a nerf gun could be used in a such a weird way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-7678396349831980502?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/7678396349831980502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=7678396349831980502' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7678396349831980502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7678396349831980502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-day-dawns.html' title='A new day dawns!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-1569923232324845604</id><published>2008-11-07T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T23:55:51.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second post in one day: Pardon me while I vent a little!</title><content type='html'>It has been brought to my attention that people in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blogosphere&lt;/span&gt; are being censored to a point. Told that they need to watch what they say, or that their blog is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;offensive&lt;/span&gt; because they use satire by saying things like "Go blog &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yourself&lt;/span&gt;, or mother blogger". It amazes me that people try to tel other people they can't have an opinion about something, or they can't those kinds of words.Well I got to thinking and I realized a few points about those kinds of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Those people who think they can tell other people what they can or can't write obviously don't have an understanding of the constitution and the link it has with the world wide web. So let me break it down for you. The constitution gives me freedom of speech, freedom of press, and a few freedoms that I won't go into here. The world wide web gives me an outlet for that freedom. See when I disagree with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;some one's&lt;/span&gt; views then I simply &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; read what they right. Just like if I don't like a TV show, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; watch it, a radio station I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; listen too it and a democrat for president I don't vote for him. Cause just as much as I have the freedom to say what I want, you have the freedom to not listen, read, watch, or even care. Or even say how you feel as opposing opinion against mine, but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; give you the freedom of censorship.&lt;br /&gt;2. They feel it's their duty to stop you. Why, I ask, why is it your duty to stop me. Did you know time and time again it has been proven that the bigger the deal you make of something in opposition the bigger the support it receives. A simple little blog written by an individual that may contain an opinion of that does not match yours and you set the web on fire trying to oppose it. But what if you the "champion of truth and all that is right" had just said you know what that's their opinion what are you gonna do, would there have been a stink raised at all. Nine times out of ten no it would have gone unnoticed.&lt;br /&gt;3. Those people tend to live in a constant state of fear that someone is talking about them. I could write a line as vague as "Man they get on my nerves!" And this type of person automatically assumes I am talking about them. How vain are you that you think people are focused on you, and if the are then who cares! I mean unless its a direct personal attack then really why are you so upset. Because believe it or not they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;may not&lt;/span&gt; be talking about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have some advice for those people: Maybe if you focused on your stuff more than everybody &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;elses&lt;/span&gt; you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; be so paranoid. And maybe if you pulled your head out of your butt and realized we are all entitled to our own opinion then you could refer back to the first sentence of my advice. And two instead of ramming your opinion down other people's throats how about sharing your opinion as simply that YOUR opinion. You might find that those freedoms we talked about at first include you too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-1569923232324845604?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/1569923232324845604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=1569923232324845604' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1569923232324845604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1569923232324845604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/second-post-in-one-day-pardon-me-while.html' title='Second post in one day: Pardon me while I vent a little!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-1467915493593219714</id><published>2008-11-07T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T23:24:57.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean up on aisle 14: Please bring a mop, a package of depends, and some denture glue!</title><content type='html'>The following occurred between the minutes of 6:57Am and 6:59AM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt; crew behind me I focused on the path ahead it was clear for my taking. I looked down for a second to secure the glue, the sudden sound of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;squealing&lt;/span&gt; tires caught me off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;guard&lt;/span&gt; and I jumped out of the way just in time to avoid a side swipe by an old lady in an electric cart. I hopped to my feet and was about to say something when the woman raised a wrinkled old hand and flipped me the bird. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; believe it, but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; have time to get into an aisle rage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;incident&lt;/span&gt; with a grandma. So I switched sides and went against the flow of traffic. Luckily at that hour there's not a lot of people to contend with going in the opposite direction. As I was about to pass granny he yanked hard on the steering handle of the electric card an cut me off. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; when I noticed this cart had been customized. She had side mirrors installed and the front end had bright red flames licking of the front. Again the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;gnarled&lt;/span&gt; old hand came up and again she saluted me with one finger. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;could'nt&lt;/span&gt; have this, there was a no way I was going to let Hell's Angels the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;geriatric&lt;/span&gt; version keep me from being on time. I looked at my watch 6:58AM!&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt; had to move quick so I faked like&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;was going right and the jumped back hard left. She fell for it and cut the cart to hard. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tumbled&lt;/span&gt; to the floor like a sack of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;potatoes&lt;/span&gt;, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; why you wear your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;seat belts&lt;/span&gt; kids!) I jumped on the cart and drove on I was actually gonna make it! My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;watch still&lt;/span&gt; read 6:58, a quick glance in the side mirrors confirmed she was still down, as I rounded the corner her voice faded in the distance, "HELP I'VE FALLEN AND I CANT GET UP!" It was 6:59 when I skidded to halt at the express lane. One minute left!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-1467915493593219714?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/1467915493593219714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=1467915493593219714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1467915493593219714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1467915493593219714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/clean-up-on-aisle-14-please-bring-mop.html' title='Clean up on aisle 14: Please bring a mop, a package of depends, and some denture glue!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-3253173555346080744</id><published>2008-11-03T06:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T10:42:11.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wal-mart must have brain washed my wife!</title><content type='html'>The following occurred between the minutes of 6:53AM and 6:57AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a run now I reached the main aisle and turned left, tools was approximately 15 yards away. I opened up my stride and picked up speed, I was almost there. A quick glance at the watch still 6:53AM only a few seconds had passed. I slowed up a little in order to make the turn and my hip went numb. It felt like I had been shot with a poisoned arrow or stabbed, luckily it was just my phone vibrating. (An over active imagination and paranoia never go well together!) At walk now I pulled my phone and had the flowing conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey what’s up?&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Hey what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Libby, you’re waiting in the car you know exactly what I am doing, I’m getting glue!&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Oh.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What do you need?&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Nothing I was just bored.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay I gotta go, I’ll see in a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Okay but.&lt;br /&gt;Me: But what?&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Nothing, never mind.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Libby what is it?&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Can you hury I am bored.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What do you think I am doing in here reading a book.&lt;br /&gt;My Wife: Okay, do you want to talk to Mitus?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Libby I’m trying to hurry. I’ll be done soon bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had my wife joined forces with Wal-Mart, I would have to address that topic later. But as annoying as that was my body had instinctively kept walking and there I stood on the tool aisle. It was 6:55AM&lt;br /&gt; I grabbed the glue and spun for the main aisle and ran into a wall of teenage nerds. Their eyes were glowing red, most likely caused by an all nighter consisting of Red Bull, Cheetohs, and Rock Band but after what I had already seen I wasn’t in the mood to take any chances. I turned to go the other way met another wall. They didn’t speak they just stood there, staring. But then the humming started it took me a minute to make out the song but once I did I got a creepy oomp - loompa vibe. They were humming the thing song to “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”. That’s when it dawned on me in my pocket was a small cash of caffeine gum, that I use later in the day when coffee just ain’t doing the trick. I took the from pocket ad displayed them in a open hand, the humming stopped, their eyes fixed on my palm. I threw the gum over into the next aisle and watched and they tore after like mad dogs. Again I took off running the time 6:57AM time was running out I was on the main aisle but the register felts miles away!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-3253173555346080744?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/3253173555346080744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=3253173555346080744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3253173555346080744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3253173555346080744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/wal-mart-must-have-brain-washed-my-wife.html' title='Wal-mart must have brain washed my wife!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5916973840770024871</id><published>2008-11-01T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T11:04:35.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wal-mart in french means "The Devil's Playground", I knew there was something wrong with the French!</title><content type='html'>As I stood there steadying my nerves I allowed my eyes to adjust to flickering &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fluorescent&lt;/span&gt; lights. The constant buzz for the dimming bulbs could drive a person insane, and from the looks of the cleaning crew it had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;succeeded&lt;/span&gt;. They seem to sway back and forth to an unheard song pushing and pulling the mop in a creepy choreographed dance routine. (Imagine thriller except with blue vests, a mop, and a mop bucket).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I weaved my way through the zombie like cleaning crew unnoticed, thankfully. Zombie's eat human brains in case you didn't know. As I passed the checkout stands I locked eyes with a young girl behind the counter her eyes seem to plead for help while her smile said otherwise. I ignored her and looked to the floor as any good citizen in a hurry would do and noticed she was chained to her register, how strange I thought to myself. But I forged on I was 6 minutes into my extra 15 and time was running out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up my pace and kept my eyes straight ahead I heard miscellaneous voices and noises as I sped by the cosmetic department and bedding. But as I learned from watching movies if you just ignore them they will go away, right? I decided to make a short cut through toys to get to tools. I made a quick right and froze. Huddled in the corner were a group small children ranging in age from 8-11. I knew this was delicate situation and that I was in their territory &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uninvited&lt;/span&gt;, I had to play this careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slowly turned and looked at the nearest toy hoping they hadn't seen me, but that if they had they would think I had a child as well and leave me alone as if I belonged. But time was growing shorter, I turned to make my next step and my shoe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;squeaked&lt;/span&gt; I was screwed almost as if at all of their heads turned and eight little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;beady&lt;/span&gt; eyes were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;burning&lt;/span&gt; a whole though me. As I think back they were probably looking at me like that because of the look of shock on my. Ya see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;evidently&lt;/span&gt; I had interrupted their breakfast, it appeared that one of the night &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;stockers&lt;/span&gt; had overstayed his welcome, one of the small children had a name tag with "Marcus" hanging out of her mouth, her face smeared with red. A low growl grew from the group and they began to bare there teeth. I turned and made a mad dash for a main aisle, on my way passed a shirtless man pressed against the wall mumbling something about jelly donuts and animal like kids. I guess Marcus was okay but the jelly donuts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; make it. Back on the main aisle I checked my watch 7 minutes left...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-5916973840770024871?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5916973840770024871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5916973840770024871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5916973840770024871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5916973840770024871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/11/wal-mart-in-german-french-means-devils.html' title='Wal-mart in french means &quot;The Devil&apos;s Playground&quot;, I knew there was something wrong with the French!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-3463260299502178774</id><published>2008-10-31T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T13:49:34.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wal-mart your Fiendish Devil!</title><content type='html'>So this morning I was on my way in to work and I had to stop and get some super glue from Wal-Mart and well it has lead me to make this statement right now, from this point forward I shall no longer venture in to a Wal-Mart store between the hours of 11:00PM and 7:00AM. On so for my reasons a I have written the following short story "Ode to Wal-mart weirdness"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I arose from my sleeping chambers and lay there, quite groggy. I seemed to linger in between a world of sleep and awake. My eyes were unfocused as I reached for my glasses, blinked twice and read the alarm clock. I was late. I threw on my close and ran out the house I had 15 extra minutes to stop by the store, my mind screamed, “you idiot you have left yourself only one place to go!” At first I didn’t want to admit it, a dozen places ran though my mind but I knew they were all to far out of the way but Wal-mart was my only option. I had once made a promise to never venture into this dark underworld of oddities again, but today I must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          I pulled into the parking lot and stepped out into the deep sea of gray, a threatening wind whistled by and menacing shopping cart seemed to my way. I picked up my paced and headed for the door, the cart matched my speed, wait it seemed to be gaining. How is this possible? I broke into run, I could hear the rattle of the carts wheels getting closer and closer. I leaped through the doors just as they were closing, I turned to see the cart slam into the glass not once but twice.&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;          As I pulled myself up I heard an old woman cackle from behind me. Her eyes seemed to be jet black and her skin nearly transparent. Welcome to Wal-Mart she said with a toothless grin, but when her words echoed off the walls they said Welcome to hell! &lt;br /&gt; I eased my way pass the old hag grabbed a hand basket and steadied myself. I was facing a daunting possible horrific task surviving Wal-mart and its army of predawn weirdness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          My journey had just begun…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-3463260299502178774?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/3463260299502178774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=3463260299502178774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3463260299502178774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3463260299502178774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/10/wal-mart-your-fiendish-devil.html' title='Wal-mart your Fiendish Devil!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-8117261525079048662</id><published>2008-10-29T18:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T18:34:35.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two posts in one day, I think I am going blog!</title><content type='html'>So there I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bloggin&lt;/span&gt; away in my super secret blog, that only I know about and I had a realization!&lt;br /&gt;I love my super secret blog! Did you know that in my super secret blog I could talk  about you and you would never know it.&lt;br /&gt;I could call you names and talk about your mom. I could say how your dad flirts with me and I'm a guy, can we say strange.&lt;br /&gt;Can I say I feel oddly uncomfortable around you because you tend to smell like Puppy Chow and wet Rabbit. Yes I can because its MY super secret blog that YOU will never read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could talk about all the horrible things I've done to you in my imagination, things that involve a 1957 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Studebaker&lt;/span&gt; brake light, a goat, a bottle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Deja&lt;/span&gt; Blue water, finger clippers, and of course duct tape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could write about what I am thinking right and you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; like what I am thinking right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course you will never know these things, you wont even know if they are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; you or you or you! They could be about you or another you a totally different you that you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so here's the sad part someone is going to read this and they are actually going to think that I am talking about them. they are going to that my life revolves around them and that I have nothing better to do that write bad things about them in my super secret blog that they will never know about! And that person my friends is very vain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course they could be right too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-8117261525079048662?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/8117261525079048662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=8117261525079048662' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8117261525079048662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8117261525079048662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-posts-in-one-day-i-think-i-am-going.html' title='Two posts in one day, I think I am going blog!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-6622996243843201997</id><published>2008-10-29T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T18:11:26.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Blog! That mother blogger is bloggin again!</title><content type='html'>I wrote this little blog just for! Yeah yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now sit right back and listen to my tale&lt;br /&gt;about a mother bloggin blogger who blogs to well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm bout to flip the blog up in this mother blogger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my blogs where you at!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all my fellow bloggers put your blogs in the air&lt;br /&gt;and wave your bloggin blogs like you just dont care!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Oct 31st  in the blogosphere&lt;br /&gt;Pants saggin off my blog cause a blogger just dont care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I strolled out my blog, bloggin hard as can be &lt;br /&gt;my blog bandana hangin for all the blogs to see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When two hard a bloggers rolled up in a sled&lt;br /&gt;They wanted to blog a mother blogger they wanted this blogger dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They started waving their blogs and flashing all their post&lt;br /&gt;The driver jumped out the sled, a blogger from the east coast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my very blog flash before my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I saw my moms bloggin about a son that dies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heard a couple pops and everything slowed&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes I had dropped those bloggers cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't mess with this blogger I'm the lyrical wizard&lt;br /&gt;covering your blog like a bloggin blizzard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting bloggers to bed laying them to rest&lt;br /&gt;no other blogger gonna step to this test!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace blogger out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-6622996243843201997?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/6622996243843201997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=6622996243843201997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6622996243843201997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6622996243843201997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/10/holy-blog-that-mother-blogger-is.html' title='Holy Blog! That mother blogger is bloggin again!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-3378051612170761426</id><published>2008-06-20T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T14:01:10.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Two for one blog special!</title><content type='html'>The evil twins who were not twins but were very evil!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lay quietly in bed, as still as humanly possible, the images of those deranged, psychotic miscreants of humanity, danced through my thoughts. It was four in the morning and I could not sleep, I knew I would have to face them, just as I do everyday, but why, why was I being subjected to such horrors. I'll tell you why, because when someone is evil they must pursecute the good, the wicked are always trying to keep a brotha down. Gotta fight the power my brotha's, oh wait sorry wrong story. Where was I, yes and so I lay there dreading the day to come, dreading the hour that I must remove myself from an attempt at sleep, dreading the minutes that I glide along the Dart Rail (Oh how i hate you Fatty Fattest McFatmna), dreading the seconds I spend waiting for the elevator. Ding! "Welcome to hell, Lucifer and his evil minions will be serving all your needs of torture and suffering today, please enjoy your stay!" I can't get it out of my head "What are you doing? Why are you doing that? Uhm, is there a reason your not on the phone? Don't you think?" Thats all they ever say! Why can't I get a normal hell like everyone else, you know eternal loneliness, constant burning sensation, void of anything and everything, leaving you to be tortured by the deafening silence. No, I get the wonder twins and the magical powers of NAG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I thwarted the evil plot of the Osama Bin Ladin and his reign of terror on the Dart Rail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to brag I mean Daniel is merely one man, but today on the train Daniel amazed even himself. Now Daniel doesn't normally speak in third person but it felt right since Daniel did what only heros do, Daniel saved lives! Let us relive the moment through the Daniel's eyes. As ususal Daniel was dressed from head to toe in an Armani suit prepared for a long day of high powered meetings and screaming conference calls, Daniel was just being Daniel that day just like Daniel is everyday!&lt;br /&gt;But today was different, Daniel felt a strange feeling in the air, a tingling on theback fo Daniel's neck made him shiver, and Daniel doesn't shiver! Daniel scanned the car for the danger, and there three rows back from Daniel, sat a lone man who was not Daniel, he looked nervous, like he was trying to hide something. Daniel saw his eyes dart back and froth from door to door looking for what seemed to be an escape. Daniel, knew something was wrong, and he lept into action! Daniel, being merely a man, grabbed the indivdual by his shirt and lifted him from his seat, and to Daniel's horror he saw it, the most unthinkable thing had been brought on to the train a dog, but not just any dog, as it seemed to was not real but was actually a bomb in dogs clothing!&lt;br /&gt;Daniel ran to the door hit the emergancy open button and threw the "dog" out of the door into a creek. The man sobbed, Daniel understood, after all now that he had not blown up all the American Infadels, he would not receive his appropriate forty virgins as promised! Its odd though daniel thinks he heard the bomb make a shrieking noise, sure it didnt blow up that close the train. And that is how Daniel, thwarted Osama Bin Ladin, and how he got thrown in jail, but as usual, police always get mad when we do their jobs better than them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-3378051612170761426?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/3378051612170761426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=3378051612170761426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3378051612170761426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/3378051612170761426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/06/two-for-one-blog-special.html' title='The Two for one blog special!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5664948136037604585</id><published>2008-06-03T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T12:21:31.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why the train should have TV's</title><content type='html'>This morning I took a different train than I normally do so I experianced some new people, and I saw something that was very intrigueing. As I watched the whole scene play out I heard the theme for Wild Kingdom playing in my head, and the Narrators voice giving me the play by play of what I was watching. But first let me set the scene:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location Dart Rail: The Train was particularly busy a lot of people had to stand.&lt;br /&gt;Participants: Two young ladies between the ages of 25-30&lt;br /&gt;Scenario: The Unknown Stare Down!&lt;br /&gt;And the voice began...&lt;br /&gt;Undaunted we begin or daily trek out into the concrete wilderness. We are in search of the rarely seen "Dance of the Insane", the tales of this great dance have been passed from generation to generation, its a chaotic flurry of animalistic movements, people in a frenzy trying simply to stake their claim on this great Hairless Beast known as the DART rail. Every morning it happens time and time again, and this morning we are going to not just observe the chaos we are going to jump head long into the stomach of this mythical monster and experiance the "Dance of the Insane" for ourselves. We charge the wild animal and push ourselves into its mechanical belly, and for the moment we can rest. And then to our delight we spot something rarely caught by the human eye, "The Unknown Stare Down", what luck. There in the midst of the swaying calm of the crowd where two very attractive women, each ina  different way, unknowingly staring each other down. One of them obviously of latin descent the other even more obviously of the caucasion persuasion. And for the sake of this documenary, the latine will be know as Maria and the caucasion woman will be known as Ashley. They are the polar opposite of each, Maria is curvacious and very well endowed, while Ashley is very sporty with a very athletic build, and unbeknownst to each other they are taking turns gawking at the others form. Ashley seems entranced with Maria's bustline at times she will push her shoulders back and try to "increase" her own proportions, without success. And when she looks away, Maria will then stare at the waist line of Ashley and at times she will pull in her stomach trying to "decrease" her proportions, again without much success. The battle is back and forth, with no one being the winner, and then as if in defeat Maria, gives in and releases her stomach muscles, and exits the trains. Little does she know as soon as Maria stepped off the train, Ashley let out a deep breath and let her shoulders fall about two inches. There was glorious win for Ashley merely an understanding that if they had gone one more exit she might not have won this battle.&lt;br /&gt;Okay so this should let you know what I do on the train. How bored am I that I notice crap like this. Wow, is all I have to say!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-5664948136037604585?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5664948136037604585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5664948136037604585' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5664948136037604585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5664948136037604585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-train-should-have-tvs.html' title='Why the train should have TV&apos;s'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-1554686224378372898</id><published>2008-05-18T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T07:23:31.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why everyone hates you Fatty Fatest McFatman!</title><content type='html'>As I have stated before the train has become a source of entartainment for me, and typically these stories are light hearted and sarcastic but today my fellow bloggers I would like to introduce you a very dark character. His name is Fatty Fattest McFatman! A certain level of loathing overcomes me as soon as I see him getting on the train. Thankfully I have Jesus and he has taught me not to give into the urges. So I continue fisrt his stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Name:&lt;/strong&gt; Fatty Fatest McFatman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Age:&lt;/strong&gt; 30-35&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Height:&lt;/strong&gt; 6'4" - 6'5"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weight:&lt;/strong&gt; The total combined weight of the population of rhode island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marrital Status:&lt;/strong&gt; There is a ring.&lt;br /&gt;Children: At one point but it is believed he sold them on the black market for a bucket o chicken to a small donut shop in Garland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Family History:&lt;/strong&gt; His Dad was never home and when he was he didnt show Fatty any attention because he didnt play any sports. But his older brother Todd was a fotball star so Daddy loved all over Todd. So to make up for the affection he didnt get his mom allowed him to eat whatever he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Likes:&lt;/strong&gt; The cooking network and the ESPN injury report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dislikes:&lt;/strong&gt; Jocks, small children, and skinny people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hobbies:&lt;/strong&gt; He enjoys torturing small animals, terrorizing the neighborhood children, an tormenting his poor wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why I loathe him: &lt;/strong&gt;There are certain rules on the train that all &lt;strong&gt;MEN&lt;/strong&gt; should abide to.&lt;br /&gt;1. If you are large enough to take up more than one seat you should stand up!&lt;br /&gt;2. A &lt;strong&gt;MAN&lt;/strong&gt; should always offer is seat to a woman who is aving to stand. Especially if she is over the age of 60! &lt;br /&gt;3. Always allow omen to walk on to the train first.&lt;br /&gt;4. Do not gawk at an attractive woman just because she is in your line of sight.&lt;br /&gt;5. Do not act irritated when a petite woman tries to slide in next to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this, person I refuse to use man, ignores all of the above. He is openly a jerk! Each day in my head I run little scenarios that involve him, electricity, train tracks, and a mountain goat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the day: 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phobia of the Day: Arachibutyrophobia- Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-1554686224378372898?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/1554686224378372898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=1554686224378372898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1554686224378372898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1554686224378372898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-everyone-hates-you-fatty-fatest.html' title='Why everyone hates you Fatty Fatest McFatman!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-6025524322189499864</id><published>2008-05-15T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T11:30:17.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 things I hate about THAT Guy!</title><content type='html'>Have you ever known THAT guy, you know the guy I am talking about! The one that when you get to heaven your going ask God if He couldnt have done something better with that particular mound of flesh and bones&lt;br /&gt;Please note the names and locations have been changed to protect the identity of these extremely stupid people!And that guy can be substituted as a girl at any time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  I hate that, THAT guy has a bigger better story than you no matter what you have one. If you went fishing  on a boat at a local lake and caught a good sized fish, then he went out on a yacht, in the middle of the  ocean and caught a great white shark with the string from his super model girlfriends bikini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09. I hate that, THAT guy will sit there and nod his head and agree with everything someone is saying and then turn around and not do any of the stuff he was just agreeing with!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08. I hate that, THAT guy will sit around mope all day long about how horrible his life is but if you give him  a way out he gets mad at you for telling him he needs to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07. I hate that, THAT guy will ramble on and on for ever saying the same thing the person before them just said, but that guy thinks that if he says it it will make so much more sense, and everyone will be enlightened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06. I hate that, THAT guy acts like he knows what he's talking about even though he has no clue, and if you  even semi challenge him on something he accusses you of attacking him and then throws a pity party and acts like you are the bad guy. And the only reason he acts this way is because hed no answer for your question  and this is a serious deflection technique made famous by Wonder Woman with her gold bracelets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. I hate that, THAT guy is to stupid to understand how lucky he is that up until this point he hasnt gotten  his butt kicked on more than one occassion, I hate that he is too stupid to be scared which makes it even harder not to play "Mr Potato Head" with his face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. I hate that, THAT guy thinks he can fix all of your problems by simply telling you what he thinks you should do. And then gets offended if you disagree even though its your life, and he's an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. I hate that, THAT guy cries over the stupidest things that in all reality, and I am talking about the real  reality the one everybody lives in, have no true impact on his life. and yet he acts like its him who is  going through it, man up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. I hate that, THAT guy will be a complete a-hole to you, being sarcastic stating the obvious, just being rude,  but if you stand up to him, well heavan forbid his world just fell apart cause you were mean to him and he  thought you were his friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. And the number one thing that I hate about That guy - Its that he is THAT guy all the freaking time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phobia of the day: Allodoxaphobia- Fear of opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: 4,732 the amount of times I have wanted to kill THAT guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting a new segment called: "Before They Were Famous!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STEVE CARELL - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What did Steve Carell do before becoming famous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: &lt;a class="iAs" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal! important; FONT-SIZE: 100%! important; PADDING-BOTTOM: 1px! important; COLOR: darkgreen! important; BORDER-BOTTOM: darkgreen 0.07em solid; BACKGROUND-COLOR: transparent! important; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" href="http://www.hardlyfamous.com/stars/carell-steve#" target="_blank" itxtdid="4942443"&gt;Steve Carell&lt;/a&gt; was once a mail carrier but says he quit after a few months because he was "very, very bad at it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: In 1996, Steve Carell appeared on the short-lived "Dana Carvey Show" where he voiced Gary in The Ambiguously Gay Duo sketch (before it moved to SNL).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-6025524322189499864?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/6025524322189499864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=6025524322189499864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6025524322189499864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6025524322189499864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/05/10-things-i-hate-about-that-guy.html' title='10 things I hate about THAT Guy!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-4122393979102210508</id><published>2008-05-06T11:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T14:20:52.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you should never wear a short skirt or tight pants on the train.</title><content type='html'>This morning was a hard morning for a couple ladies on my train. Let me set the scenario for you,I was on the train, there scenario set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first incident involves a woman who is dressed in a very nice pants suit, with high heels, who was probably in her early thirties now it was obvious her pants were a little too tight, you could tell by the way she took the steps up into the train, side stepping like a penguin, that she knew it as well. She rounded the entrance and stepped toward the aisle when IT happened, her right heel caught in a groove of the floor and her other foot landed in a puddle, causing this odd vortex of flying arms and legs, and when the winds calmed down there she was a pile of human, with her pants split from zipper to belt, oh what a horrible way to realize that going commando was not such a great idea after all. Of course needless to say she was helped to her a feet and once she realized what had happened her face fell into horror and she ran from the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now on to incident number two, I kid you not at the very next stop a young woman, probably in her early twenties, stepped onto the train wearing a very short denim skirt and those wierd flat shoes that look like house slippers but everyone swears that they aren't. I only know that when my grandmother wore them twenty years agothey were called house slippers. But I digress, so she steps in the aisle and she at least makes it a little further than the other lady before she slips on another puddle of water that was made by someones umbrella. This time there was no vortex of human limbs there was only a sharp squeal and her sudden realization, that she could do nothing to stop the fact that she was falling into the splits, and so she hit and rather hard too, and this is when she realizedthat the sesame street underwear she thought was so cute when she bought it was not very attractive when doing the splits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that stop when ever someone new would walk on the train everyone who had experienced the other falls seemed to wait with anticipation for the next victim. We were like vultures, it was horrible, I loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways just a word to the wise if you dont want your naughty bits shown to the world then dont go commando, and please choose your cartoon character underwear wisely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Phobia of the Day: Trains, railroads or train travel- Siderodromophobia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Number of the Day: 12&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where are they Now: Joff Cohen Chunk from Goonies&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then: Cohen did the rounds of '80s TV sitcoms ('Webster,' 'Facts of Life') before being tapped to play Lawrence "Chunk" Cohen, the pudgy, ice cream-loving, tall tale-telling Goonie who redeems himself by pledging devotion to the sweet deformity known as Sloth. ("I'm gonna take care of ya ... because I love ya.")&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now:  'Goonies' was Cohen's only film role, but he never really left Chunk behind. As an undergrad at UC Berkeley, he ran for office (and won) on a "Chunk for President" platform and amused students by doing the Truffle Shuffle at football games. He's now a slimmed-down entertainment lawyer at Cohen &amp;amp; Gardner in L.A.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-4122393979102210508?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/4122393979102210508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=4122393979102210508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4122393979102210508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4122393979102210508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-you-should-never-wear-short-skirt.html' title='Why you should never wear a short skirt or tight pants on the train.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2702152469925527922</id><published>2008-03-27T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:43.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no blog!</title><content type='html'>So its been awhile and I thought I would share with ya'll a story from my past we call this one the "Blocked Sunroof incident of 1998"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a friday night and I was out cruising with my friends Dick and Tom, we were in Dick's dodge neon. (the names have been changed to protect the identity of all involved) Well we were scooting on down the road when a car full of young lovelies came rolling up beside us waving and honking. So I'm leaning out the window trying to converse and find a place for us to meet up so we can become better acquainted when Tom decides that he wants to be a part of the conversation, so he pops up through the sunroof, to say his hellos. At this point it was determined that the girls were on their way home and that they could not stop, I proceded to pick up the digits and say my farewells, and as Tom did the same I slid back in the window, but Tom did not. See Tom is a big guy and once he had gotten his stomach through the sunroof he became stuck in the sunroof, thus blocking the sunroof for all else to use. Now this is were good friends would become concerned, they would stop and get out of the car and help Tom with his predicament, but Dick and I while being good friends also have a mean streak a mile wide decide we liked having Tom as a roof ornament and that we should drive around town showing him off. So we proceded for awhile enjoying the scenery of Mesquite with the radio blasting so as the drowned out the obnoxious noise coming from Tom. And this is were the story becomes a public service announcement.&lt;br /&gt;Boys and girls if you ever find yourself in Mesquite, Tx driving around town with a person hanging out of your sunroof, please be aware that this illegal, and that the Mesquite Police will pull you over, however they will not issue you a ticket if you have a legitimate excuse for your actions, and may actually thank you for bringin a little humor to the night. On the other hand your friend Tom may be very upset with you and want to beat you up, so be prepared for the reprecussion for your actions or lack there of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom did eventually forgive us but to this day he refuses to ride with me or Dick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phobia of the Day: Amaxophobia- Fear of riding in a car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: 972.222.4589&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are they now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R-vxBDr_ApI/AAAAAAAAADY/YZYAKNpxXwY/s1600-h/mayim-then.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182500796691841682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="189" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R-vxBDr_ApI/AAAAAAAAADY/YZYAKNpxXwY/s320/mayim-then.jpg" width="203" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182500951310664354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R-vxKDr_AqI/AAAAAAAAADg/gwyfVGz2tvw/s320/mayim-now.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Name: Mayim Hoya BialikBorn: December 12, 1975, San Diego, CaliforniaClaim to Fame: Probably 9 out of 10 people know Mayim for her role on the &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink0" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,0);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,0);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,0);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/mayim.html#" target="_top"&gt;TV Show&lt;/a&gt; 'Blossom.' She played the title role of Blossom Russo.Family Life: Married to Michael Stone and they haveone child (born October 2005).Info: Mayim got her first &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink1" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,1);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,1);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,1);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/mayim.html#" target="_top"&gt;acting&lt;/a&gt; break when she was a young girl in the movie 'Beaches.' If you saw the movie you remember she played the young version of &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink2" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,2);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,2);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,2);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/mayim.html#" target="_top"&gt;Bette Midler's&lt;/a&gt; character and she was a dead ringer for the part.Trivia: Her first name means "water" in Hebrew.Was accepted to both Harvard and Yale, but turned them down to attend UCLA.Was good friends with the late &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink3" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,3);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,3);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,3);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/mayim.html#" target="_top"&gt;Bill Bixby&lt;/a&gt;. As he went public with his illness, he directed her sitcom, "Blossom", and continued working up until his death in November 1993.Plays piano, trumpet and &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink4" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,4);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,4);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,4);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/mayim.html#" target="_top"&gt;bass guitar&lt;/a&gt;.Adopted a whale, a wolf and a manatee.Is an accomplished dancer. She and "Blossom" co-star, Jenna von Oÿ took lessons in between breaks in the filming season.Where is She Now: For a while it seemed like Mayim just completely left show business. Truth is she threw herself into college and graduated from UCLA June 2000.And even while she was in school, she was never totally away from showbiz work. She did a lot of voiceover work. You may have heard her in Hey Arnold! and some video games.In 2001 she was the music director for the UCLA Jewish a capella group "Shir Bruin"I can't confirm if she completed or is close to completing her doctorate in Neuroscience. Either way, she's one smart cookie!On 11th October 2005 gave birth to a baby boy, her first child.She has recently been seen in the Kirstie Alley series 'Fat Actress' which airs on Showtime.Mayim also continues to do voiceover work for cartoons and video games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-2702152469925527922?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2702152469925527922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2702152469925527922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2702152469925527922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2702152469925527922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long time no blog!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R-vxBDr_ApI/AAAAAAAAADY/YZYAKNpxXwY/s72-c/mayim-then.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-1982470006804956055</id><published>2008-03-15T07:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:44.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the slow lane... a funny story.</title><content type='html'>It all started when I was 16 I had just gotten my first car - a beautiful 1984 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, it was poo brown where there was still paint and I was rolling on the factory 15's if you know what I'm sayin! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I went out cruzin my new ride, (seat back and riding low like any respectable hood rat would) and I wasnt more than two miles from my house when the police decided it didnt look right for me to be in such a nice car, I guess they thought I stole it seeing as how it would be the first choice of many car thiefs. (See pic below, not the actual car but darn close)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9viNINLVXI/AAAAAAAAADA/BnFP0rnJijM/s1600-h/800px-Oldsmobile-Cutlass-Supreme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177980911761446258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9viNINLVXI/AAAAAAAAADA/BnFP0rnJijM/s320/800px-Oldsmobile-Cutlass-Supreme.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there I was my first joy ride not even five minutes old and already I'm getting popped by the fuzz. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where I got pulled over was pretty busy intersection and it was a Saturday morning, and in Mesquite when you look like I used to and you drive a car as nice as this one (remember see pic above) they automatically assume you are up to no good, so of course they pulled me out of my car, and handcuffed me for "their safety" while they began an all out assault on my pristine vehicle. (Of course it didnt help that a couple of friends of my drove by and yelled out the window, "Officer be sure to check for pot!") Well of course this just led to a breach of my personal space, involving one extremely rough officer and a frisk that seemed more like a date gone horribly wrong than a search of my person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as I sat there handcuffed in the back of a mesquite police patrol car I pondered these thoughts: Do they have special handcuffs for midgets?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way this whole time they still hadnt told me the reason they pulled me over. finally the officer walks over and pulls me out of the back fo the car and takes off the handcuffs. I ask him what did and he said "You ran a red light, but your free to go with justa warning this time."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See this is where a smart non authority challenging youth would have said sir got back in the car and drove away, to not be harassed by the cops another day. But me being the guy that I am decided to state the obvious to the cop, "Dude theres not even a stop light around here!" well needless to say that was not the reactions they were looking for and after several minutes of being berated by the officer, about respect for him, for myslef and for the world it was time for me to be on my way, so I said thank you for your time officer (in the most sarcastic voice possible of course) and walked to my car and so began my relationship with the Mesquite Police Department. I am sure there will be many more stories shared on my blog but as for today that is it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the Day: Amaxophobia- Fear of riding in a car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 911&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now for a special addition to todays blog we will be doing a "Where are they are now Segment" cause frankly animal of the day was getting old!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Updated: 02/20/2005&lt;br /&gt;Name: Peter Billingsley&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R92Dd4NLVYI/AAAAAAAAADI/nA-gMer4Plk/s1600-h/peter_billingsley_then.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178439695873037698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R92Dd4NLVYI/AAAAAAAAADI/nA-gMer4Plk/s320/peter_billingsley_then.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178440245628851602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R92D94NLVZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Ma7-HNX_XZY/s320/peter_billingsley_now.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Born: April 16, 1971, New York, New York&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Claim to Fame: Peter is probably most noted for his role of Ralphie in a "&lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink0" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,0);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,0);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,0);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/peter_billingsley.html#" target="_top"&gt;A Christmas Story&lt;/a&gt;" Remember Ralphie's numerous requests for a genuine Red Ryder B-B gun that were repeatedly greeted with "You'll shoot your eye out." I just love that movie.But Peter actually got his start when he was nine years old on the TV series "Real People". He was there to provide the children's angle on the show. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family Life: Great-grandnephew of Stork Club impresario Sherman Billingsley (his maternal great-grandfather was Fred Billingsley who was Sherman's brother).Brother of Melissa Michaelsen and Neil Billingsley (both actors)..Info: When I was in college in Arizona, my coach (I played basketball) also taught at a private school, Phoenix Country Day School. It was K-12th grade and only about 150 kids went there.He also was the High School baseball coach of this ultra exclusive school. (Hi Coach K!). Anyway he used to get his college students some jobs helping out around the school. We were all broke and needed money. To make a long story short. Peter went to this school along with his sister Melissa. Both of them were very nice and sweet kids. Not like so many others who were so snobby (some Wrigley kids, especially). This was right before "A Christmas Story" came out, and his sister was actually more popular at the time. Where Is He Now: He is now enjoying the success of directing, writing, and editing many &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink1" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,1);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,1);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,1);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/peter_billingsley.html#" target="_top"&gt;music videos&lt;/a&gt; and short form programs.Peter is co-producing "Zathura: which &lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink2" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,2);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,2);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,2);" href="http://www.celebritynooz.com/watn/peter_billingsley.html#" target="_top"&gt;Jon Favreau&lt;/a&gt; is directing. That's the third thing with Jon that Peter has produced.He and Jon are producers of the IFC program "Dinner For Five."You may have even seen him and Jon this past Thanksgiving asthey hosted a "Dinner For Five" marathon.&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/6475281005348593205-1982470006804956055?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/1982470006804956055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=1982470006804956055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1982470006804956055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/1982470006804956055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/life-in-slow-lane-funny-story.html' title='Life in the slow lane... a funny story.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9viNINLVXI/AAAAAAAAADA/BnFP0rnJijM/s72-c/800px-Oldsmobile-Cutlass-Supreme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5420571781226482968</id><published>2008-03-12T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:45.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The people I dont know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... make my life as a train rider so much more interesting. I was thinking today that when I ride the train I tend to see same hand full of people everyday, I wonder about these people and their lives, what they do for a living, married or single, happy or sad, what goes on in their day to day lives. And well as you all know I tend to have pretty vivid imagination, as well as be a pretty pessimistic person, so these two things together never play out well, for these people and their imaginary lives. So today I start you off with&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Genevieve - Single mother with a small child - they both ride the same train everyday - (this is not her real name but she reminds me of this chick I saw in a movie called "The Matador" and her name was Genevieve") - Her sons name is Julio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Genevieve seems to live a sad life, she never looks happy and always seems to have something on her mind, she smiled once but that was only because her son asked a lady in front of him why she smelled funny, (she was wearing old lady perfume and smelled like a bathroom), we all got a chuckle out of that. She always stares at the floor. She is younger and dresses in business casual attire. So with that background out of the way here are the stats I have imagined for Genevieve and Julio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Age 27&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Occupation: Ex Stripper who got pregnant and had to get a professional type job so she would have benefits, because she doesnt know who the dad is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Religion: Catholic: non practicing due to hipocrits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family: Probably an overbearing mom who is twice divorced but still belittles her own daughter for having a child and not being married. Her dad left home to get a pack of smokes and never came back only to find out he ran off with a stripper how ironic huh? (lots of strippers in this story could it be because I watched CSI and it involved strippers, I dont know, maybe I shouldnt watch so much TV)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways that was my imaginary life of Genevieve and her son Julio, the illegitnmate child of a strip club patron, who will most likely grow up to be a strip club patron himself, Life its a vicious cycle!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the Day: Gymnophobia- Fear of nudity. (at least you would never be a stripper!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 8:09&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Peacock (Pavo, Afropavo) lets face always showing off they stuff like that they are the strippers of the bird world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9lrYYNLVWI/AAAAAAAAAC4/q1EDMxt8KYs/s1600-h/peacock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177287313197847906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9lrYYNLVWI/AAAAAAAAAC4/q1EDMxt8KYs/s320/peacock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9lq2YNLVVI/AAAAAAAAACw/5_Oll5YgWDs/s1600-h/cover.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/6475281005348593205-5420571781226482968?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5420571781226482968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5420571781226482968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5420571781226482968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5420571781226482968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/people-i-dont-know.html' title='The people I dont know...'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9lrYYNLVWI/AAAAAAAAAC4/q1EDMxt8KYs/s72-c/peacock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5510451551808295030</id><published>2008-03-07T11:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:45.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Train ride with a smelly guy!</title><content type='html'>This morning was a new experience for me, I ride the train just about every morning and normally its business types or students, a couple of late night party folk making there way back to Dallas to get their cars (those people are pretty easy to spot). But this morning there was someone new, and man did he stink. At first when you smell something on the train you become paranoid, you do the standard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;che&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cks&lt;/span&gt; of yourself to make sure you are not the producer of said odor. You do the yawn to the right so you can sniff your shirt, you stretch to the left to make sure you applied &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt;, you lean down to retie your shoe to make sure they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; smell, and once you have done the final check you start looking around, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;discretely&lt;/span&gt; of course because you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; want to be rude! And so I started my investigation, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; you clear your nose by scratching it, I'm not sure why I think this clears the nose but stick with me here okay. And so we were packed in pretty good about six inches between each of us, and the process of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;elimination&lt;/span&gt; begins, it wasnt well dressed yuppie on my right, it was not the professional business woman on my left, it was not the grandma diagonal to me and that only left one guy, There he stood obviously still recovering from a hard night of playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Russian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;roulette&lt;/span&gt; with a bottle of whiskey and the floor. His clothes were wrinkled and he was swaying in the train, the bad kind of swaying not the good kind. All of us stood there smelling it but not saying anything sly smiles were passed, however the odor was growing worse, the business woman and the grandma got a reprieve seats opened up, still the smell lingered, you could almost see it hanging in the air, I was counting the stops and the minutes, and then he got off, and to my horror I saw the cause of the odor, this young man probably 23 to 24 had crapped himself in a most horrid manner. As soon as the door closed I looked at the yuppie and we laughed out loud, as I was leaving the train the business woman got off too and asked what we laughed at, I explained and thought she was going to die from suffocation from laughter, the three of us bonded that day, and if ever we meet on the train again we will be able to share our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;poopie&lt;/span&gt; drawers guy experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phobia of the Day: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Autodysomophobia&lt;/span&gt;- Fear of one that has a vile odor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Deuce&lt;/span&gt; - for obvious reasons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animal of the Day: Black Bear (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Ursus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;americanus&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9GzwoNLVTI/AAAAAAAAACg/mrHxpSJukYE/s1600-h/blackbear_zoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175115094833190194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9GzwoNLVTI/AAAAAAAAACg/mrHxpSJukYE/s320/blackbear_zoom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-5510451551808295030?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5510451551808295030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5510451551808295030' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5510451551808295030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5510451551808295030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-train-ride-with-smelly-guy.html' title='My Train ride with a smelly guy!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9GzwoNLVTI/AAAAAAAAACg/mrHxpSJukYE/s72-c/blackbear_zoom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-85871573452042909</id><published>2008-03-06T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:46.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time rears its ugly head one again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Time has found a way to torture me once again! On March 9 time has decided to launch a full on balls to the wall attack on my sleep pattern. I know she has been plotting this for months, how do I know you ask because she does it every year! (I believe time is a woman, because it is always changing, just like a woman's mind) Anywho I can see her sinister smile as she plans day in and day out, she masks it as a nation wide attack, but I know she only does this so I cant blame her for being late to something! She is evil!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this year I have a plan of my own, I shall use her own kind against her, I will infiltrate her evil lair using MY WIFE, ha! she'll never see it coming. I sha'll simply have my wife set her alarm to appropriate time, she would never deceive another woman!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And once again man beats woman!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the Day: Phronemophobia- Fear of thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 6&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Mandrill (Mandrillus sphinx)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9A_g4FLjBI/AAAAAAAAACY/JLNBjNtlKs8/s1600-h/mandrill_zoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174705805891177490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9A_g4FLjBI/AAAAAAAAACY/JLNBjNtlKs8/s320/mandrill_zoom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-85871573452042909?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/85871573452042909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=85871573452042909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/85871573452042909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/85871573452042909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/time-rears-its-ugly-head-one-again.html' title='Time rears its ugly head one again.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R9A_g4FLjBI/AAAAAAAAACY/JLNBjNtlKs8/s72-c/mandrill_zoom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-4563235995836199709</id><published>2008-03-04T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:46.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Five Movie Quotes that can be used in a daily basis!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I thought I would take the time to share some advice I learned from a dear friends of mine - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are ever in a situation where someone asks you for advice because they are down or hurt or angry look them dead in he eye and without missing a beat ask them:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Dracula: Dead and Lovin It - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0466327/"&gt;Dr. Steward&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Harvey Korman):&lt;/span&gt; Would an enema help?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There can be two outcomes in the scenario they hate you forever and never ask you a question again ( bonus you didn't have to answer the question) or its cuts the tension and gives you a second t0 formulate an answer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next time your friend pisses you off or does something completely stupid you will then be able to say:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Smokey and the Bandit - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001276/"&gt;Buford T. Justice&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Jackie Gleason):&lt;/span&gt; [to his son] There's no way, *no* way that you came from *my* loins. Soon as I get home, first thing I'm gonna do is punch yo mamma in da mouth!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a two part insult first you are calling them stupid then you are implying you slept with their mother, from experience its never good to make a comment about sleeping with someones mother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whenever you are in a place that you are uncomfortable, old folks home, day cares, mega churches, you know places with weird people - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000125/"&gt;Professor Henry Jones&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Sean Connery):&lt;/span&gt; [to Indiana, while watching a Nazi parade and book burning]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My son, we're pilgrims in an unholy land. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one is great for someone you don't know has really pissed you off and is about to find out why its better to run and hide than to stand and fight-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Batman - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000197/"&gt;The Joker&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Jack Nicholson):&lt;/span&gt; Tell me something, my friend. You ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This works particularly well when you are standing in the dark and the other persons realizes who said it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This saying is usable during any situation in life that is a good thing, you win in poker, get the girl, get a promotion, or anything in general.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. History of the World Part 1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;LOUIS XVI (Mel Brooks):&lt;/span&gt; "It's good to be the king!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may use that at will or make your own list but remember use them wisely if you don't then they can be overused and well we all know what happens there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the day: Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia- Fear of long words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;( I don't know if this is real but it made me laugh)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the day: 2-1/2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Pine Marten (Martes martes) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R82W_V6jH8I/AAAAAAAAACQ/pzk2ZDihdWE/s1600-h/pinemart_main.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173957561877209026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 182px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" height="198" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R82W_V6jH8I/AAAAAAAAACQ/pzk2ZDihdWE/s320/pinemart_main.jpg" width="210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6475281005348593205-4563235995836199709?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/4563235995836199709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=4563235995836199709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4563235995836199709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4563235995836199709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/03/top-five-movie-quotes-that-can-be-used.html' title='Top Five Movie Quotes that can be used in a daily basis!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R82W_V6jH8I/AAAAAAAAACQ/pzk2ZDihdWE/s72-c/pinemart_main.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-7420758163410128706</id><published>2008-02-23T07:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:47.292-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lost Innocence!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I remember growing up and watching all these great movies on TV movies like Revenge of The Nerds, Smokey and the Bandit, Die Hard and how clean they were. Now jump twenty years into the future, and I have officially lost my innonence. This week I watched Revenge of the Nerds, a wholesome movie on TV that saw the Nerds put their wits and against the strength of the Jocks and win, sounds like a good "underdog beats the man" movie right? Well thats until I bought the DVD and I saw the seedy underbelly of unedited movies. I was apalled at the way I laughed at that hideous movie and the low brow humor it utilized to make me laugh out loud. I was in pure shock and I vowed that very day to never watch another TV movie ever again for the sanctity of my innocence I shall only watch the DVD from this day forward, that way I will not hate myself later in life for sheltering myself from the real world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my justification skills they rock!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the Day: Epistemophobia- Fear of knowledge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 4,456,654&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: African Lion&lt;br /&gt;Panthera leo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R8BIdWwlSwI/AAAAAAAAACI/7NyiOcdChlQ/s1600-h/african-lion-closeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170212041384086274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R8BIdWwlSwI/AAAAAAAAACI/7NyiOcdChlQ/s320/african-lion-closeup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-7420758163410128706?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/7420758163410128706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=7420758163410128706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7420758163410128706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7420758163410128706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-lost-innocence.html' title='My Lost Innocence!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R8BIdWwlSwI/AAAAAAAAACI/7NyiOcdChlQ/s72-c/african-lion-closeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-7249274665060994483</id><published>2008-02-21T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:47.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Time got its groove back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I lay there in bed, eyes half open, mind still floating between dream and reality, the little red numbers breaking through the haze of sleep, 5:45, "I have fifteen minutes before I have to get up, sweet." I rest my eyes for what seems like seconds, if not mili-seconds and when I open them to check the clock my head pops up in horror 6:15. The clock it tricked me those stupid little red numbers, "buy digital" the voice said, "welcome to the future" the sign read, Ha! I had fallen for the slogan of the wicked technology wizard he had sucked me in, And now his wicked minion the clock radio has tricked me with his pretty lights and fancy buttons. Oh how stupid I was to turn my back on the clock hands, yes sometimes they mocked me, made me feel insignificant, but they never lied, never luuled me into a false sense of security only to stab me in the back. Why digital clock why are you this way!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the day: Octophobia - Fear of the figure 8.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the day: 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Headless Chicken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The following image may be disturbing to some, its old and in black and white but it still freaks me out!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having its head removed, it continued trying to peck for food. In the end, it lived headless for 18 months&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R73hVGwlSvI/AAAAAAAAACA/43m2g3M-QCU/s1600-h/565632224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169535699999083250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R73hVGwlSvI/AAAAAAAAACA/43m2g3M-QCU/s320/565632224.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-7249274665060994483?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/7249274665060994483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=7249274665060994483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7249274665060994483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7249274665060994483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/02/how-time-got-its-groove-back.html' title='How Time got its groove back!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R73hVGwlSvI/AAAAAAAAACA/43m2g3M-QCU/s72-c/565632224.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-8870406672638840418</id><published>2008-02-20T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:47.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The demise of time's control!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I bought a digital clock, Ha stupid hands!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the day: Chronophobia- Fear of time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 5:30&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Marine Iguana - Amblyrhynchus cristatus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7x_HWwlSuI/AAAAAAAAAB4/XwwFKru8lYI/s1600-h/marine-iguana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169146236659649250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7x_HWwlSuI/AAAAAAAAAB4/XwwFKru8lYI/s320/marine-iguana.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/6475281005348593205-8870406672638840418?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/8870406672638840418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=8870406672638840418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8870406672638840418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8870406672638840418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/02/demise-of-times-control.html' title='The demise of time&apos;s control!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7x_HWwlSuI/AAAAAAAAAB4/XwwFKru8lYI/s72-c/marine-iguana.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2865581403302253522</id><published>2008-02-19T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:47.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The longest minute of my life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I stand here glaring at the clock hands, trying to use my Jedi mind tricks to speed them up but they only taunt me, those little hands waving ever so politely as if to say yes we are still here but no we wont move until we are supposed to. What do they know, do they have a family to go home to, a job to get away from! No they just sit there a constant reminder that they are in control. Tick tock all day long without a care for our needs or our wants only theirs. Oh how I hate the hands of a clock!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the day: Chaetophobia- Fear of hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the day: 867-5309 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Spider Monkey&lt;br /&gt;Ateles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7uIhWwlStI/AAAAAAAAABw/BSAAGYgMm9E/s1600-h/black-spider-monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168875103964187346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7uIhWwlStI/AAAAAAAAABw/BSAAGYgMm9E/s320/black-spider-monkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/6475281005348593205-2865581403302253522?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2865581403302253522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2865581403302253522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2865581403302253522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2865581403302253522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/02/longest-minute-of-my-life.html' title='The longest minute of my life.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7uIhWwlStI/AAAAAAAAABw/BSAAGYgMm9E/s72-c/black-spider-monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2955027226449276294</id><published>2008-02-17T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:48.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The waste of being fake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Sick and tired of being sick and tired!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to say that all the time! And I meant it I was tired of being in a humdrum mood all the time, and one morning I woke up and I didnt feel anything I mean nothing at all! There was no being sad, no happiness, nothing I had become completely numb! And at that point I knew there a was a conversation I had to have, so God and I talked and he wasn't fake with me. He pointed out a lot of things in my life that I have not paid attention to in awhile and so here is my rant on being fake!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it worth it honestly I mean for crying out loud the average person wont live past 85 to 90 years old. So if you do the math it breaks down like this you spend the first 12 to 13 years figuring out how to be fake and then we perfect it over the next 20 to 30 years until we hit our forties and guess what, at that point we get to a point where we have lived long enough that we reach one or two points either we just dont care what people think or we dont have the strength to fake it anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then for the next 40 to 50 years we spend our time wondering how different things would have been in certain relationships if we had just been honest with those people and not wasted so much tiptoeing through the tulips instead of trudging through the crap we were all dealing with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I stand here pulling on my waders and putting on my gasmask cause boys and girls we are about to get waist deep in crap creek and once we get to the other side (because there is always the other side) then anything we face after crap creek will be breeze! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must warn you though as I have experienced the following in the past please keep an eye out for a monkey the looks oddly like "Curious George" because while he is cute and cuddly he tends to fling poo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you are willing to join me on this journey!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a side note I will no longer be doing word of the day it has now been replaced with PHOBIA of the day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phobia of the Day: Peladophobia - the fear of Bald Men&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: -4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Howler Monkey -Alouatta caraya &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7k1m2wlSsI/AAAAAAAAABo/noxMP2N3-MQ/s1600-h/black-howler-monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168220989034941122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7k1m2wlSsI/AAAAAAAAABo/noxMP2N3-MQ/s320/black-howler-monkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&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/6475281005348593205-2955027226449276294?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2955027226449276294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2955027226449276294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2955027226449276294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2955027226449276294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/02/waste-of-being-fake.html' title='The waste of being fake!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R7k1m2wlSsI/AAAAAAAAABo/noxMP2N3-MQ/s72-c/black-howler-monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-8465081241078946332</id><published>2008-01-26T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T16:19:42.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh to be Sixteen again!</title><content type='html'>So there I was a 29 year old guy playing "DJ" (I use the term very loosely) for a bunch of sixteen year old girls and I could only think man music has change. They have names like Get Low, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SaltShaker&lt;/span&gt;, Booty Meat, Freaky Girl, what happened to the good old days of rap music when they talked about " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bustin&lt;/span&gt; a cap in yo a$$" or "or rolling down the street &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;smokin&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;indo&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sippin&lt;/span&gt; on gin and juice, or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;shankin&lt;/span&gt; a "blood" due to mismatching colors, (those &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;gangters&lt;/span&gt; were really into fashion they never mixed their colors) when did the rap world sell out and become this piece of "booty meat" it has today. So here is my plea! Please bring back the days when I could understand rap and connect with what they were saying to me. I miss those days-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DJ Whitey White is out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;audi&lt;/span&gt; 5000 - peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: .01 (I think its underappreciated dont you?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animal of the Day: King Cobra&lt;br /&gt;Ophiophagus hannah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-8465081241078946332?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/8465081241078946332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=8465081241078946332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8465081241078946332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8465081241078946332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-to-be-sixteen-again.html' title='Oh to be Sixteen again!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-4910296332582171506</id><published>2008-01-22T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:48.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost in the Really Real World...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I remember a line from the movie "The Crow" where this guy has been duct taped into his car and is being lined with Grenades by a guy he killed who has now come back for Vengeance and as he realizing he is going to die he starts saying over and over "this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; happen in the really real world man, this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; happen in the really real world." So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;today's&lt;/span&gt; topic will be the reality of certain things we like to think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; happen in the "really real world".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Majority of people lie... they will say whatever it takes to avoid confrontation with their friends, I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Amercian&lt;/span&gt; Idol is a great example. How many of those people walk in front of the judges and say "my friends/family said I am great and that I will be a super start someday" Now I know love is blind but its not deaf, now I personally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;appreciate&lt;/span&gt; the people who lie because without them there would be no real reason to watch American Idol until the last five minutes of the very last episode and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; just so your not out of the loop at the water cooler the next day. So understand real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;friends&lt;/span&gt; don't lie so if someone tells you you suck in the most loving way they could you just found a true friend, cherish their honesty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Work sucks... in the "really real world" nobody wants to work, you may enjoy your job but work will always be the bane of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt;, you could have the greatest job in the world but tomorrow if someone said you never have to go to work ever again ninety percent of us would walk out the door and never look back. Ands that the truth!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just because you learned it on Public Broadcast Television does not make it true... I have heard people quote their local PBS stations as points of reference for historical accuracy only to find out later they were quoting a British Comedy or some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;documentary&lt;/span&gt; from 1972 that is no longer relevant, why is it that just because it is presented in a "public" format we accept it as truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And finally in the really real world you are responsible for your actions... Just because someone says something to you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; mean you have to let effect your decisions... in the really real world we place so much blame on other people, so and so made me feel this way, made me do this or that, but ultimately we made the decision &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;shouldn't&lt;/span&gt; we be held responsible for it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So just remember the next time you're duct tapped into your 70's model &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Thunderbird&lt;/span&gt; by a guy you thought you killed please understand that its your fault and try not to blame your parents for making you watching to much PBS and ruining your chances at functioning in normal society.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 3,456.1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Fossa&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Cryptoprocta&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ferox&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5bQNuM7yZI/AAAAAAAAABg/wlY_ZKa5lB0/s1600-h/fossa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158539357358639506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5bQNuM7yZI/AAAAAAAAABg/wlY_ZKa5lB0/s320/fossa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Word of the Day: 3.    &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/1999/05/28.html"&gt;objurgate&lt;/a&gt;: to scold or rebuke sharply. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-4910296332582171506?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/4910296332582171506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=4910296332582171506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4910296332582171506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/4910296332582171506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/lost-in-really-real-world.html' title='Lost in the Really Real World...'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5bQNuM7yZI/AAAAAAAAABg/wlY_ZKa5lB0/s72-c/fossa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-7010204708118949256</id><published>2008-01-20T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:48.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of Civilization as We Know It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Its been a long time since I have feared the end of the world, but today I think I may have seen our demise in the near future. I was standing in the store and overheard the following conversation being held between two college age Girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: Are you gonna vote?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl2: Yeah but I dot know for who yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: Me either I like Hilary because she's a woman but she's to ugly to win. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 2: Yeah for real didnt her husband cheat on her or something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: Yeah but most men cant handle a powerful woman so he was probably pissed cause she was more powerful than him&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 2: Yeah so its either her or Obama but he sounds like a terrorists &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: Who else is there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 2: I dont know those are the only two MTVNews talk about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: Oh well I'll just vote straight Democracy like my Dad told me to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 2: You mean democrat?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl 1: yeah whatever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the sad part is folks I am not making this up!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 32&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of the Day: Philippine Tarsier, (Tarsius syrichta) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5Q8nMNYsYI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zx_qdYaqcXA/s1600-h/_tarsier_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157814117235995010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5Q8nMNYsYI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zx_qdYaqcXA/s320/_tarsier_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Word of the Day: &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/1999/05/20.html"&gt;nescience&lt;/a&gt;: lack of knowledge or awareness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-7010204708118949256?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/7010204708118949256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=7010204708118949256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7010204708118949256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/7010204708118949256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/end-of-civilization-as-we-know-it.html' title='The End of Civilization as We Know It!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R5Q8nMNYsYI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zx_qdYaqcXA/s72-c/_tarsier_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5857814431948591171</id><published>2008-01-15T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:48.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And now "Where are they now!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Whatever Happened To Jaleel White (Steve Urkel) from Family Matters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155921329443615090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R42DIcNYsXI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kznD8Ec4l6Q/s320/jaleel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Steve Urkel played the annoying nerd on the popular TV show "Family Matters." His real name is Jaleel White and he appeared on the show from 1989-1998. He started off as a guest apperance on the show as Laura's first date. The reaction to him on the show was overwhelming so it was decided to keep him on the show. He became very famous because of his nerdy role. Eventually they even came out with a Steve Urkel doll, and also a cereal called "Urkel O's."&lt;br /&gt;Jaleel White was born on November 7, 1976 and started coming in commercials at the age of 3. The first television role Jaleel had was in 1985 on "The Jeffersons." He also did a couple of TV movies before starring on "Family Matters."&lt;br /&gt;After the show ended, Jaleel White did the voice of one of the characters for the cartoon movie "Quest For Camelot." He also did a TV series which only lasted a year called "Grown Ups." In that sitcom, he played a 24 year old post college graduate. Recently, White graduated from UCLA Film School in 2001. He now lives in a condo in California and enjoys playing basketball, and writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-5857814431948591171?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5857814431948591171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5857814431948591171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5857814431948591171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5857814431948591171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-now-where-are-they-now.html' title='And now &quot;Where are they now!&quot;'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R42DIcNYsXI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kznD8Ec4l6Q/s72-c/jaleel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2755064755066082282</id><published>2008-01-13T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:48.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Swimming Pool of Life and the People who pee in it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;So there I was swimming through the shallow end of the swimming pool of life, enjoying the nice cool water and when a sudden temperature change in the water made me very aware that someone else was doing more in my pool than swimming. Now typically I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; mind sharing my pool, its a big pool with lots of room for everyone to enjoy it, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every now&lt;/span&gt; and again a certain type of person will come along and feel that just because their swimming pool is green and disgusting because they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know how to keep it clean the feel they have to come over to someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;elses&lt;/span&gt; pool and dirty it up by peeing in the pool. So I make this statement from this point forward if you pee in my pool I am going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;thoroughly&lt;/span&gt; enjoy kicking you out of my pool, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; fret as you fly through the gate, knowing the pain in your butt created by my foot will be there for awhile, I will leave you with some words of wisdom, life is much easier than you thank, Just don't do the bad stuff. And second if there is someone peeing in your pool, please see actions taken above. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;Number of the Day: 22&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Animal of the Day: Arabian Camel (Dromedary)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zhssNYsWI/AAAAAAAAABI/aU7jVyl0YxA/s1600-h/arabian-camel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155743831330173282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zhssNYsWI/AAAAAAAAABI/aU7jVyl0YxA/s320/arabian-camel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;Word of the Day: supplicate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;\SUP-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;luh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;kayt&lt;/span&gt;\, intransitive verb:1. To make a humble and earnest petition; to pray humbly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-2755064755066082282?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2755064755066082282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2755064755066082282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2755064755066082282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2755064755066082282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/swimming-pool-of-life-and-people-who.html' title='The Swimming Pool of Life and the People who pee in it!'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zhssNYsWI/AAAAAAAAABI/aU7jVyl0YxA/s72-c/arabian-camel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-5443108867516439996</id><published>2008-01-07T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:49.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend of Foe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;... the two share so many similarities its scary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The definitions of each may be polar opposite but the reality is we give each more control over our lives then we should. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number of the Day: 29&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Animal of th&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4r5TsNYsTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dhaJxJG9gjs/s1600-h/xiphactinus-final-4k-ga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155206840159088946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4r5TsNYsTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dhaJxJG9gjs/s320/xiphactinus-final-4k-ga.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e Day: Xiphactinus Audax &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Word of the Day: persiflage \PUR-suh-flahzh\, noun:Frivolous or bantering talk; a frivolous manner of treating any subject, whether serious or otherwise; light raillery. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-5443108867516439996?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/5443108867516439996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=5443108867516439996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5443108867516439996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/5443108867516439996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/friend-of-foe.html' title='Friend of Foe...'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4r5TsNYsTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dhaJxJG9gjs/s72-c/xiphactinus-final-4k-ga.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-6011301745701507468</id><published>2008-01-03T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T16:28:50.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Torture continues.</title><content type='html'>So as I continue I hope you will have sympathy for my plight as one day you feel this way too. So as I rubbed my head with the painful realization of how old I was the loyalty I felt for my friend kicked in and I was back to the email it got a lot smoother it was easy questions, favorite color, nickname, favorite food, favorite movie, and "What were you doing in 1990?" I started to read through the other answer laughing at some shocked from others and thats when the bottom dropped out my friends 16 year old son answered "I wasn't even born yet" 1990 I thought to my self that was just yesterday, but it wasnt! I fell to my knees face in my hands screaming why, why! I could do nothing but shake, and hope for morning to come soon. Okay so it wasnt that bad but man sometimes those things make me feel old!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-6011301745701507468?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/6011301745701507468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=6011301745701507468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6011301745701507468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/6011301745701507468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/torture-continues.html' title='The Torture continues.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-958498628680318993</id><published>2008-01-02T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:49.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Violence should be accepted...</title><content type='html'>... as a solution for any situation involving one person thinking they are right, and they other disagreeing. This could include but is not limited to deciding where to eat, what TV show to watch, what movie to see, whether Star Wars or Star Trek is the greatest Sci- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fi&lt;/span&gt; series of all times, who's hotter Kelly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bundy&lt;/span&gt; from season one of "Married With Children" or Kelly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bundy&lt;/span&gt; from the final season of "Married With Children", who was the prettiest castaway on "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Gilligans&lt;/span&gt; Island", Less Filling or Tastes Great, New Coke or Coca Cola Classic, Does Diet Dr Pepper really taste like real Dr Pepper, and so on and so on... these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;conversations&lt;/span&gt; seem &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;never ending&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; because people are allowed to believe they are right without any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;repercussions&lt;/span&gt; for their idiocy, see if two people disagree they should be allowed to beat each other until there is a winner, and once one person is knocked out or verbally admits they were wrong the subject may never be brought up again and the winner shall be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;listed&lt;/span&gt; as RIGHT in the journals of history, and these decision will not be contestable in court. If death occurs during confrontation said dead guy will be held liable for his own actions because if he had been right in the first place he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; have lost so it was his own stupidity that caused his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know some of you may think this is not a good idea but that tells me you are wrong a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: 4,567,890&lt;br /&gt;Animal of the Day: Harp Seal (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Phoca&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;groenlandica&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zfY8NYsVI/AAAAAAAAABA/odg4apcRw_g/s1600-h/harp-seal-baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155741293004501330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zfY8NYsVI/AAAAAAAAABA/odg4apcRw_g/s320/harp-seal-baby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Word of the Day: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;booboisie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;\boob-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ZEE&lt;/span&gt;\, noun:A class of people regarded as stupid or foolish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-958498628680318993?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/958498628680318993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=958498628680318993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/958498628680318993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/958498628680318993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2008/01/why-violence-should-be-accepted.html' title='Why Violence should be accepted...'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4zfY8NYsVI/AAAAAAAAABA/odg4apcRw_g/s72-c/harp-seal-baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-8677896522716044945</id><published>2007-12-31T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:29:50.138-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day and E-Mail Survey ruined my life.</title><content type='html'>It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt;, a cold dark busy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt;, the day my life changed forever. I remember it started off normal no signs of pending doom, no red moon on the horizon none of your typical indicators had made themselves apparent. So when "it" hit it was like a ton of bricks, I had arrived at work like normal shelling out the normal hellos as I sat down at my computer, logged in and hit receive on my inbox. The computer chimed in perfect harmony "you have mail". I browsed through the emails weeding out the junk and I cam across an email from a friend titled "If you are truly my friend you'll do this". I felt obligated to complete this task, because it was my friend, so I continued on undaunted. "Please return this to the person who sent it to you and forward it to ten of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; friends" No problem and the first question read - How old are you? ha the ease of the question made me giddy, I typed 29, and with those two little numbers I was crushed, I am 29 I'll be thirty in three months, I'm so old! Saddened I felt as though maybe continuing the email would help me get over my age depression, Question Number 2: Hair Color? And like a dagger through the heart any happiness I had was cast aside like a midget at a basketball game. Not only am I old but I've lost all my hair! I was desolate sucked into my on despair I felt shame creeping over me, I knew I must continue though for the sake of my friend... I am too depressed to continue this post reliving this moment has proven itself to difficult a task, I shall continue tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of the Day: 95&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animal of the Day: Red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Uakari&lt;/span&gt; Monkey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155205044862759202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="223" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4r3rMNYsSI/AAAAAAAAAAo/gp72xSkQUfg/s320/red-uakari-monkey.jpg" width="143" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word of the Day: temerity \&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tuh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;MER&lt;/span&gt;-uh-tee\, noun:Unreasonable or foolhardy contempt of danger; rashness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-8677896522716044945?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/8677896522716044945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=8677896522716044945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8677896522716044945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/8677896522716044945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2007/12/day-and-e-mail-survey-ruined-my-life.html' title='The Day and E-Mail Survey ruined my life.'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/R4r3rMNYsSI/AAAAAAAAAAo/gp72xSkQUfg/s72-c/red-uakari-monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6475281005348593205.post-2657688517491283346</id><published>2007-12-30T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T09:10:16.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Thought of Famous Dead People</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever wondered what the last thought of some famous people were, what the last thing that went through heir mind was. Well I compiled a list and below is a list of some thoughts I feel may have occurred.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lets go biblical first,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adam - I toil in the fields all my life, she eats the fruit first, and she still out lives me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goliath - Wow, whats that whistling sound?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Judas - Get a rope! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Samson - I know I cant see it but I bet my hair looks beautiful&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eve - I should have never eaten that apple.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and now famous writers, musicians, and just people.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elvis - Man I wish I had, had that ventilation fan installed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;John Denver - The windshield of his custom built airplane&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marylin Monroe - I wonder what JFK's men are doing in my parking lot.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;James Dean - Man I wish Just Brakes was open earlier.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marlboro Man - Guess they were right about that Cancer thing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know for my first blog its not gold but its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shiny&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you have any ideas for other famous last thoughts please share!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Number of the Day: 3,467&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Animal of the Day: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Adélie&lt;/span&gt; Penguin &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Word of the Day: arcane \&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ar&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;KAYN&lt;/span&gt;\, adjective:Understood or known by only a few. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6475281005348593205-2657688517491283346?l=deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/feeds/2657688517491283346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6475281005348593205&amp;postID=2657688517491283346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2657688517491283346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6475281005348593205/posts/default/2657688517491283346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deepthoughtsfromashallowsea.blogspot.com/2007/12/last-thought-of-famous-dead-people.html' title='The Last Thought of Famous Dead People'/><author><name>odd_side_of_intellect</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04403700461408939125</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OIyTRQ6yDDY/SRU42tUXjPI/AAAAAAAAADs/3qL5XqojqxU/S220/100_5159.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
