tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32213303539043086672024-03-13T10:38:00.074-07:00Pointless ScribbleA place with something for everyone...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-25266005907070496272013-03-24T00:23:00.002-07:002013-03-24T00:25:29.265-07:00Meanie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Have you ever been an asshole?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have<o:p></o:p></div>
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You know, making folks feel bad<o:p></o:p></div>
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And not caring or giving two you-know-what’s <o:p></o:p></div>
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While you’re doing it<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t think I’ve ever done it on purpose<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I have done it<o:p></o:p></div>
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I made some people question their choices<o:p></o:p></div>
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Caused others to think they’ve done something horrible to me<o:p></o:p></div>
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Made the rest wonder why they even chose to say hello in the first
place<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But again, it isn’t on purpose<o:p></o:p></div>
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I try to be nice<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, nicer <o:p></o:p></div>
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Lately<o:p></o:p></div>
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But with a certain sense of confidence now<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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You see, some time ago<o:p></o:p></div>
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I used to want everyone to like me<o:p></o:p></div>
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Men, Women, Children, newborns, fetuses<o:p></o:p></div>
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I mean <i>EVERY </i>one<o:p></o:p></div>
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I sought after their approval<o:p></o:p></div>
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Wanted to make them smile<o:p></o:p></div>
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Brighten up their day<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But I realized <o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t do it<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not all the time anyway<o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t meet everyone’s approval<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t think I’m meant to<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Once I realized this<o:p></o:p></div>
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I stopped worrying<o:p></o:p></div>
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I quit agonizing<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ceased the over-thinking<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And I just lived<o:p></o:p></div>
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My <o:p></o:p></div>
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Life<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The way I wanted to<o:p></o:p></div>
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The way that made me feel at least half how I was supposed to<o:p></o:p></div>
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Be living it<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I please some people<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t please others<o:p></o:p></div>
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The rest may be plotting my death as I write this<o:p></o:p></div>
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But hey, that’s life right?<o:p></o:p></div>
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That <o:p></o:p></div>
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Is <o:p></o:p></div>
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Life<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Nowadays, the only people who I seek approval from<o:p></o:p></div>
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Are the ones that matter the most to me<o:p></o:p></div>
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I still don’t always make them happy either <o:p></o:p></div>
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As a matter of a fact<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can make their feelings <i>C</i>ringe
sometimes<o:p></o:p></div>
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With only my words<o:p></o:p></div>
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And <o:p></o:p></div>
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Not <o:p></o:p></div>
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Even<o:p></o:p></div>
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Realize<o:p></o:p></div>
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It<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The difference between hurting these people and hurting others<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nowadays<o:p></o:p></div>
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I actually feel bad<o:p></o:p></div>
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Like really, really bad<o:p></o:p></div>
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Horrible<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So as I grow, mature<o:p></o:p></div>
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And try to be brave enough to not hold onto the handrails during this<o:p></o:p></div>
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Rollercoaster ride that we call life<o:p></o:p></div>
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I will try to own up to my mistakes<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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If I have hurt you, ever<o:p></o:p></div>
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And you matter to me (these people know who they are)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I say this<o:p></o:p></div>
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To you<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I’m Sorry<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-66781672841727065412012-07-03T23:05:00.001-07:002012-07-03T23:05:52.068-07:00Suicidal Thoughts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I hate it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I hate every
ounce of it<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yeah,
everyone has their problems<o:p></o:p></div>
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But my life,
it ain’t worth shit<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I ask for
one thing<o:p></o:p></div>
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True and
pure happiness<o:p></o:p></div>
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But instead
it feels like that guy<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the
movie: The Pursuit of Happyness<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Already
constantly feeling like crap<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All I get is
more misery <o:p></o:p></div>
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Every time
my phone rings<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seems like
bad stuff is happening deliberately<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But I have a
solution<o:p></o:p></div>
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A real quick
fix to make it all stop<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A knife
across the throat<o:p></o:p></div>
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Or perhaps a
gun to my temple, one quick pop<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t care
anymore<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m sure
I’ll go straight to hell<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
For taking
God’s greatest gift<o:p></o:p></div>
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And throwing
it down that dark well<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are
other ways you know<o:p></o:p></div>
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Like bottles
of pills or trying to take flight<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That last
one seems very fitting<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since I’ve
always been afraid of heights<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I only hear
from folks when they need something<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They won’t
miss my boring personality<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’ll be
like nothing ever happened<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Same old,
just another statistic actually<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not a great
swimmer<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So maybe a
drowning will get the job done<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’ll look
like an accident<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So my insurance
money will still go to my son<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
All I ever
wanted was one thing<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I’ve
finally seemed to have found it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I can’t
have it everyday<o:p></o:p></div>
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So I think
my life I will decisively quit<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Those of you
judging me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Claiming
that I’m looking at an half empty cup<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Have no idea
what I’ve been through<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So
respectfully, you all can shut the Fuck up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Feeling
helpless, feeling out of sorts<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thinking I
should give this death thing a whirl<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Can’t fix
everyone’s problems<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I really
want to but I can’t save the entire world<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So much on
my shoulders<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m so tired
of carrying this burden alone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Feeling like
even God doesn’t care<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wondering if
He will ever answer the phone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There’s no
relief in sight<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
People keep
doing the opposite<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They don’t
listen to me, don’t get me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Being my
friend should come with a prerequisite<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Whatever any
of you are saying<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I could
really care less<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You’ll talk
about me the most<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After this
bullet enters my chest<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I’m done
talking, It’s time to sleep<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I
promise you I won’t wake with the next dawn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m already
constantly in the shadows<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So you
definitely won’t miss when I’m gone..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-70573601758467550292012-06-16T08:00:00.000-07:002012-06-16T08:00:01.863-07:00"Thash" Decision<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I think I’ve managed to hit a cross roads. Not just any
form of cross roads but the type of cross roads you encounter when an
unstoppable force meets an immovable object.
That special kind of epiphany which causes you to possibly rethink even
your most well put together and carefully crafted thoughts. Now I hit this crossroads about a month a
half ago when I was visited by a friend.
A friend that I have had a crush on for quite some time. Just over 3 years to be exact. Yes, many people feel that after one manages
to exit the unfriendly confines of High School, scenarios that include having
crushes should cease and completely disappear.
These same scenarios should especially never come attached with the
notion that one would go over three long years and not say anything to this
person. Well many people don’t know
exactly what the situation was three years ago that might have prevented this
crush from being acted upon. Then among
those same many people who do know, they probably wouldn’t understand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So as not to completely bore you with the ins and outs of
life’s trials & tribulations, which all of you have probably stumbled upon
at some point in your own, we’ll just say that this crush wasn’t acted upon due
to “circumstances”. If that isn’t
enough of an explanation for you, then I’m quite sorry because that is all that
you are going to get. During your child
years, you learn than imagination is probably the best means of entertainment
you can have. So I simply suggest that you pull that same imagination out of
the attic in your head, dust off the cobwebs and use it to make those
“circumstances” I was speaking about before become anything you would like them
to be. Thank you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that I’m finished aimlessly carrying on about
circumstances and imagination, I’ll attempt to get to my point. Like I stated before, I hit a crossroads
about a month and half ago when a certain friend came to visit me. Having had gone through said “circumstances”,
I had come to my own conclusion regarding the opposite sex and formulated my
own personal theory on them. I’ll also
spare you the specifics of that very genius theory as to not spark any debates. Regardless of what the theory was, it was
proven during that visit that there was an exception to it. If you haven’t figured it out just yet, my
friend was the exception. The lone and
sole exception to something I felt I had created so well it couldn’t possibly
have any leaks, any air holes, flaws, weaknesses, whatever you want to call
it. But she managed to find the smallest
of cracks, the miniscule of chinks in the armor and here’s the craziest part; she
did it without even trying. She didn’t
even know she was doing it. Heck, I
didn’t know that she was doing it. Not
until it was already too late.</div>
<a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now a couple of months before this specific visit, this same
friend had already managed to do the impossible. Again, seemingly without trying, she got me
to utter a certain phrase of a certain set of words that I didn’t think I would
ever speak again in my closed off life.
Don’t ask me how she did it exactly, but she did. That’s the only thing that matters. So after that monumental occurrence took
place, I didn’t think anything else could happen. Nothing that could trump that anyway. But it did.
It so did. Causing me to almost
completely disclaim my theory, she waltzed in and out of our visit together
none the wiser to what she had just accomplished. She went on her merry way. Unbeknownst to
her, she had just left a man falling deeper and deeper into everything that was
her with every passing minute. And with
no parachute or lifeline to boot. Just
free-falling constantly with no sign of a bottom, nothing to end the fall. When there’s nothing to stop you from
falling, it means one thing. The ride
that you’re on, considering it is a good one, will never have to stop. She was taking me on a journey of her, but with
no destination. Just an ongoing
traveling experience with her as my guide and no need for any rest stops
in-between. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know how many of you have ever made something us
adults like to refer to as a “rash decision”.
For those of you who have successfully managed to live under a rock for
like, your entire life, I’ll explain the concept to you. A rash decision is a choice that you make
while either under a ton of pressure or riding on a wave of emotion. It can be bad or…..it can be good. Now the ratio of bad to good is always up for
debate. But there are so many factors
that go into whether the choice that was made from the rash decision turned out
to be a good one or a bad one. The
situation that you’re in, usually the biggest factor, when you’re called to
make a snap decision for one. The
possible outcomes. The <i>other</i> possible outcomes. Those second set of possible outcomes are the
ones that you didn’t think of when you made your initial rash decision. And of course the eventual wave of criticism
that you will ultimately come across from whatever choice you make. Some of it will be positive criticism but
most of it, yes I said most of it, will most likely be negative. That’s the kind that you don’t want to
hear. That’s why it’s called a rash
decision.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Negative criticism can also be received from a decision that
you took a significant amount of time to come to, but usually it’s genuinely
less. Now I have made a rash decision as
of late. Again, I won’t tell you what it
is. Sorry. But yes I admit it was rash. But I like to think of it as something I like
to call a “Thash Decision”. Yes, oh yes,
I just made up a word. C’mon if phrases
like Analy Depressed and words like anxiarrhea (Urban Dictionary, place is a
gold mine) can be created, then I can make up shit too. Anyways, a thash decision is a thought out
rash decision. I was able to make a snap
decision based upon extensive research and thought but it only took me but a
second to put it all together and come to a sound, conclusive choice. Yeah, I did that. And I stand behind my thash decision because:
<b>1.</b> I made it while I was completely sober and <b>2.</b> It’s been over a week and I
still haven’t regretted making it.
Pretty good, huh? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So how does this all coincide with my friend I was speaking
of earlier? She was a catalyst in my
thash decision making. She was not the
sole contributor, no. She, again, didn’t
even know that I was making this thash decision. But she played a big part, a really big part. So I ask you, no I plead with you. I beg of you.
The next time someone you love or care about comes to you with an idea
or their mind made up about something that you just may feel is quite possibly
one of the dumbest things that you have ever heard in your entire life, take a
step back. Look at them. In their eyes.
Have a couple of breaths and consider for a moment that maybe, just
maybe they are making a thash decision.
And it will be the one thing in their life that will make them truly and
completely happy. I assure you, the
world will be a better place if you do.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-38611862812624376622012-06-16T01:05:00.000-07:002012-06-16T01:05:15.302-07:00The Unicorn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBDHuH2D-XZxNVBPSLnNFNn2UL-CxMwqkFzTObnU-JYBOGhzfhV6EFpMZ_Q0kBlXSUh_tm8u0hf33oHkaJuOPDmhfhZJo96BV9-HgUsqzFX5A-IW9kQsEUjCLNVkXuGIL97RDEIxGcZNt/s1600/unicorn_horn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBDHuH2D-XZxNVBPSLnNFNn2UL-CxMwqkFzTObnU-JYBOGhzfhV6EFpMZ_Q0kBlXSUh_tm8u0hf33oHkaJuOPDmhfhZJo96BV9-HgUsqzFX5A-IW9kQsEUjCLNVkXuGIL97RDEIxGcZNt/s320/unicorn_horn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was a
while there when I was afraid to approach you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A time when
I only sought after you from a distance<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kept to
myself because I didn’t want to frighten you away<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To say that
I was a silent hunter wouldn’t even be correct<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because the
truth is I wasn’t hunting, I was merely admiring<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Trying to
take in everything that was you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I only say
everything because if I was to take the time<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To list each
and everything about you that I love<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We would
both be old by the time I finished <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But only you
would remain as beautiful as you are now<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are different
names to describe creatures as amazing as you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But only one
seems fitting for you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mythical,
majestic, graceful and very difficult to catch<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I call
you my Unicorn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Truly one of
a kind, sights like you are very hard to come by<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I bided my
time hoping for a chance<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And finally,
eventually I got it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My Unicorn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I say it
again because it’s still hard to believe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Hard to
believe that you’re finally mine<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Even as I
still watch you, still smell you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still hold you;
I am still in awe of you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I still can’t
believe that I actually have you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And even now
I sometimes feel as if I don’t<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not because
of anything you have done<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But because
reality says that as difficult as it was to catch you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s got to
be 100 times harder to keep you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
People say
once you’ve caught a Unicorn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s not a
Unicorn to you anymore <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since you
have captured it, that desire you had will fade away<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Until you find
another one <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I disagree<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There aren’t
any others out there <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not for me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can’t see
anything past you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are
legendary creations in this world<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I managed
to catch the best one<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There will
never be another one like her<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So to me,
you are, and will always be…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
…my Unicorn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-12962270762685862322012-06-13T22:17:00.000-07:002012-11-26T20:17:03.444-08:00Her<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"><span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her smile...</span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her smile shines brighter than the sun, moon and every other star combined. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">So bright that you would even be able to see them during the day.<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span> </span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"></span></span><span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">In fact they are so bright that you could honestly compare her teeth to a string of constellations that would make you wanna lay on the grass and just stare up at them all night.</span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"><span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her lips... </span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her lips are like diving into your bed after having the hardest day you've ever had in your life.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Then having that same bed change into a tropical vacation that lasts forever.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">And those lips are always coated in lipgloss that just so happen to be the exact flavor fruit that you were craving that entire day.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"><span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her skin...</span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her skin is like a silk blanket that you would be afraid to wrap yourself in because you wouldn't want to ruin it with your own germs and body funk.</span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"></span></span><span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">You just stroke it every so often to remind yourself of what heaven feels like.</span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Her eyes...</span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Looking into her eyes is like peering into pure beauty. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Beauty so pure that if it could be transferred into a drug, you wouldnt be able to afford it at its street value.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">You'd be better off by-passing the easy to notice handshake you would give "that guy on the corner" and just go straight to the Colombian fields yourself and get the wholesale price from the Cartel dealer down there.</span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">Bring it back to your place and cut it the way that you want. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">But heres the thing, </span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"> you can't cut this kind of beauty.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">It's already chopped and screwed just the way you want it. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">That's what makes her so special, she's just the way you want her.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">If you could take what she was and melt her down into a fiery ball of pretty, then take that same ball of raw gorgeous and mold it into whatever the most absolute flawless woman would be to you, you would simply find yourself with a finished product the same as what you began with. </span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;">You'd be nearly unable to determine a way to describe what she was exactly, but there is one name and only one name that just gets it right; </span></span></div>
<div class="ParaAttribute1" style="line-height: 130%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span class="CharAttribute1"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%; mso-fareast-font-family: Batang;"> Nicole.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 130%;"></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-89592073641091510732012-02-09T21:27:00.000-08:002012-02-10T20:43:33.644-08:00Here We Go..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Wrote this the other night while high on Moscato...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I see you in your black tank top and pink underwear. You try to run away to tease me but there's no escaping it. What I'm about to do to it should be considered illegal in every state and cuntry in the world. I grab you by the cheeks of your perfect ass and hoist your gorgeous body up against mine. Make sure to press it hard next to me so that I don't drop you. I promise I would never ever let that happen. Your skin so smooth making it hard to grip that booty but I got you, I promise. I throw you onto the bed and immediately reach for those panties you got on. I grab for the top of them and just tear them in half right off of you revealing that bare, smooth pussy that I'm about to destroy. Without even paying attention to the fact that your titties are still covered by that shirt, my tongue sees what it desires and mounts an offensive strategy of attack on your clit which feels like a miniuature punching bag and my tongue is wearing the boxing gloves. Your pussy juices taste as sweet as morning OJ that I drink up with every passing lap my tongue makes over your love bean. I refuse to stop as your pulling on my ears and my head as if you're trying to pry it completely off. I grab your hands and insert my fingers in the spaces between yours and they fit perfectly as I navigate your hands away from doing damage to my face as my mouth goes to town on your vagina. It may need to be surgically removed as your body squirms all over the place. The moistness from your opening is constantly flowing into my mouth and it tastes so good I don't think I ever want to stop. You scream out my name to take a break from your goodness but I refuse and press on, or should I say Lick On. The spot where your ass is on the bed is now a mini-pool overflowed with your pussy juice. It tastes so good, I can't stop. It gushes into my mouth so well, I don't even have to suck anymore, it just finds its way onto my taste buds like a magnet. </span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I finally stop and rip the tank top off your chest. My tongue finds a new target in your two exquisite breasts. Your nipples are like spouts of goodness that I can't resist. I bite down on them like a straw and you cry out....but in pleasure. I can feel your hands all through my hair and all over my back. I I squeeze your chest so hard that I think I'm going to pop your natural tits but they're durable so that doesn't happen. My dick is now at a full salute, so I unsheath it and slide it roughly into your pussy as you dig your nails deep into the skin on my back. The pain that I feel only entices me further. I carry you over to the wall and use it like I would the bed. The tremors we create against the wall can be felt all throughout the bedroom. Wonder what the neighbor's are thinking. I really could care less. This pussy is waaaaay too good right now. I pull you away from the wall and you clutch tightly onto my neck and breathing really hard into my ear as I pull your vagina onto my dick with strokes of force that would make Hurricane Irene jealous. Your ass fits in my hands perfectly as i use it as leverage to crucify your baby maker with my love muscle. Your grab me tighter and tighter as I continue to do damage to it pound after pound after pound. I don't think it'll look the same afterwards. you might not be able to walk afterwards either. I don't wanna paralyze you but the pussy is so good I can't even describe it right now. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I toss you back on the bed and find my way back down between your legs. Your pussy might not have ever received this much attention all at once, ever. It's probably wondering what it did to deserve this....but it didn't do anything, it just existed. That's all I need. As long as it's there, I'm going to Fuck It. Harder and faster than you've ever felt before in your entire life. Your pussy lips are literally foaming now. Your body still trembling from left over orgasms now hitting you all at once. It's a rare and beautiful site to see you flopping around on the bed in a puddle of your own waters like a pretty wet fish. Your womanhood throbbing from the beating that I just gave it. Normally, i would let you breath for a sec but fuck it, like I said before, that pussy is too good. I jump on you and in one swift movement I ram my dick back inside of you and continue to beat it until you almost immediately push me off with your legs and gush all over the place. I bathe in your juices and savor the feeling of them on my skin before I insert myself back into you and punish it. You try to escape by backing further up the bed but I catch you and pull you into me with the slapping noises of our flesh connecting with each other. The sound only eggs me on even further and I wrap one arm around your shoulder and pull you up sitting on top of me as I grab your hips and pull you down onto me. I can feel every inch of your wonderful pussy now, its driving me absolutely wild. I wanna cum so bad but I hold back because I want to enjoy your vagina even longer. I can see the sweat glistening off of your body, your breasts bouncing up and down and you squeeze your hands onto my chest and stomach as you moan with delight louder and louder with every thrust that i give you. Your body looks completely amazing in the twilight. Your hair draping over your face is absolutely riveting so I reach up and grab it, pull it down hard and you let out a yelp and collapse on top of me signifying that you've just cum all over my dick once again. I can see the exhaustion in your face but I'm not done yet. I flip you over and force my penetration further and deeper than I've ever gone before. Your body is trying to force it back but it can't because I'm in the zone now and won't be denied of my prize. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">You arch your back and scream with delight and pain all at the same time as another fountain of pussy juice erupts all over the bed sheets and my penis. I quickly re-enter and proceed to devastate you further and harder and stronger as your grip my muscles with your hands, grabbing harder and harder until you can't fit anymore of my arm into your palm. I bite your neck as I release my dick from your pussy's hold and shoot my white love all over your slippery body. Completely out of breath, I lean over and ever so gently kiss your lips. They are so sweet, similiar but different from the your other set of lips at the same time. I can't get enough of either. I grab a towel and wipe you off your majestic still pulsating body and hold you close to me as we both lie in bed trying to recover from what just took place. Before we completely pass out, I lower my lips to your ear and whisper ever so softly, "I Love You". Then those same set of lips on my face immediately find their way back down to the ones below your hips....</span></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-132270608113820502011-12-02T12:46:00.001-08:002011-12-02T13:22:30.517-08:00Spoken Truth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pCCVdRxlFz4" width="420"></iframe>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
Laid in my bed thinking
I was tired, turned out that I was wrong</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Laid on back eyes wide
open, stuck in my head was that song</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Same melody that always
reminds me of you, ever so silky and wet</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
It won’t let me forget</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
If I could only have
you here next to me I’d be set</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That smile on your
face, my hands around your waist</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Those panties made of
lace, I yearn for another taste</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Please come back and
pay another visit</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I want to feel your
touch and I just can’t resist it</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
This feeling I can’t
shake, your body I want to take</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Next to you I want to
wake, more than Love I want to make</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Way beyond things in
common, We have a connection </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
More than just recent
memories, I have vivid recollections</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Keeping in tune with my
way of thinking I fear you have me hooked</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I hope you understand
me, I fear that there is something I have overlooked</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Frightened to admit I
may like you, I dare do not say it</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But this chance I have
to take, this message I must convey it</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A fear of being alone,
never having anyone stings in the back
of my mind</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
No one else quite like
you, I’m afraid I might not ever find</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Another girl that
understands the complicated things I say out loud</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Who agrees with my
state of mind, not thinking my head is in a cloud</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I don’t want to end
this speech because I’m afraid you will walk away</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I still smell your
perfume on my pillow, seems that it’s there to stay</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I now see what others
fear about me, my quietness and all</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Because you have the
same trait, your distantness hesitates my call</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wish you were more
open, I will declare this fact</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
But I’m the same way,
so I can’t really complain about that</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I want to show up at
your door, wipe my shoes on your mat</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Hold you tight in my
arms, right after I attack that kitty-kat</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
We are more than just
sex, more than just text, more than just hanging out</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
We enjoy each other’s
time, drop sarcastic lines, and I love your body all throughout</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I’ve said too much
‘Wow’, I’ve wasted enough time now, I <i>need</i>
to see you</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I hope you feel the
same and don’t think it’s too Lame to want to call me your Boo</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-65050028807236135112011-11-19T16:36:00.001-08:002011-11-19T16:46:05.156-08:00Drunk Texting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1acDZ5_cRuaKZtdFa5-wmhOHFhtFTG7hjJm253YF-GLHUjOBQSl7nDkgRxLVIyMTeioKhBx1wt0L4Mv0ZfPiF0dEMiJTRg5AHZSswHln2o7Zv1BYpqf19_-YdcL0JV2iJT9U2Dk0m8kvB/s1600/drunk-texting-212x198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1acDZ5_cRuaKZtdFa5-wmhOHFhtFTG7hjJm253YF-GLHUjOBQSl7nDkgRxLVIyMTeioKhBx1wt0L4Mv0ZfPiF0dEMiJTRg5AHZSswHln2o7Zv1BYpqf19_-YdcL0JV2iJT9U2Dk0m8kvB/s320/drunk-texting-212x198.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Some
habits in Life can be tough to admit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Some
shameful, some secretive, some brushed away with a gesture<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">But
this one is really not, so I’ll stand and introduce myself<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Hello,
my name is Sean and I am a Drunk-Texter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">More
of a chronic disease really than an awkward habit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
don’t drink much but when I do I am guilty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Of
pulling out my smartphone, turning it sideways<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">And
drafting embarrassing text messages by the plenty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
don’t think they’re all bad, Personally<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Some
are to females I care of with feelings emphatic<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">My
mood changes from sad to sweet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">From
down to upbeat, from mad to romantic<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
turn into a true blue poet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Someone
who carries his heart by his side<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Who
isn’t afraid to smile, a real change takes over<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">One
that sees Dr. Jekyll without that Mr. Hyde<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
can’t deny that some I have very much regret<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Unlike
any that I’ve written while sober<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
pick a girl, grab my heart and begin to pour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">So
embarrassed after the fact, I wished I didn’t know her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">One
girl knew she was on my mind, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">And
that I cared deeply for another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The
next heard I wanted to make her mine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">But
the last saw that I Loved her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I’m
sure she knew that it wasn’t true<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Probably
saw me the same as other despicable men<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Recklessly
clicking away on the glass screen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Letting
clouded emotions spill from my drunken digital pen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Every
other day I keep my heart behind a heavy door<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The
Corona that passes over my lips seems to pick the lock<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">It
opens the gate for many others to enter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Floats
my emotions to the top and makes room for the Ciroq<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I’m
fortunate that in my liberated state of mind <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
haven’t done anything to deserve a slap<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Including
licking beer off of a females chest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">And
resisting to give another’s ass a hard smack<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I’ve
been accused of drinking & texting quite often<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">But
it’s a good thing that I never do it alone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Some
people make sure their boy takes their keys<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">True
story, I ask mine to always take my cell phone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Society
looks down on this deed as being bad<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
see this act of intoxication as an art however<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Feelings
that which are otherwise hard to admit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Fall
from fingertips into messages that later will add to your terror<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Usually
the drunken truth is spoken <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">And
this is because of alcohol, the liquid bravery<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">So
sometimes you should pay attention to those texts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Because
they may hold importance, some kind of intimate savory<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">If
those Vodka & Cranberry thoughts weren’t real<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Then
why on Earth would they ever be said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">They
had to emerge from somewhere, someplace<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">They
were just tired and Jack Daniels helped get them outta Bed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Drunk
people only say what everyone is thinking<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Things
outrageous like who the hell lives in Kansas?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Or
unspeakable acts they would do to that girl<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Yes,
I am a drunken artist and this keyboard is my only Canvas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">My
only wish is that when you read you do not judge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
do not deny that for texting under the influence, I am notorious<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Someone
should be there to stop me with a sobriety test<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I’d
fail every time but my words would be beautiful and quite luxurious<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
know its something that I need to stop<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">But
no matter what I write, I always feel like Im winning<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Usually
afraid to speak, I am each time the quiet one<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">But
this Long Island Iced Tea always seem to give me an opinion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Either
way, drunk or sober<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
see the situation and feel like I cannot goof<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">I
mean what I say and I say what I feel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">What
I feel is not always cuz of Absolut, but it’s always the absolute truth<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-17953405866656254932011-11-07T08:18:00.000-08:002011-11-07T08:28:16.713-08:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart part 6<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
...which brings us to the finale. It's finally over, the last part of my mild tirade on why females should rely more on their common sense sometimes over their emotions. Hopefully those of you who have been reading this have grasped and understood the actual concept which is not me simply bashing women. I love them way too much to do that. I'm just trying to save the world, one misguided female at a time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcax7eg4cg1iT5Aj5z24zDQDSUv8G5fUQ4d6nvOVwgvbidR0u1_HxPHB7knh29XrXeWcX8AHnJjJCpQcbkDAvhkQLpANnf8MaG-1JxrtCCmIO9X1xU7WDCIUb1IlHS_xiIM8sbg-kBQEf/s1600/41781_5742099998_9183_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcax7eg4cg1iT5Aj5z24zDQDSUv8G5fUQ4d6nvOVwgvbidR0u1_HxPHB7knh29XrXeWcX8AHnJjJCpQcbkDAvhkQLpANnf8MaG-1JxrtCCmIO9X1xU7WDCIUb1IlHS_xiIM8sbg-kBQEf/s320/41781_5742099998_9183_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Last Part (I promise):<br />
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I came across a pretty insightful statement that compared
the rash decision making that women do to the rash decision making that parents
do when their child is at stake.</div>
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</div>
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“A women’s natural maternal instinct just may be a large
part in why they rely on their emotions so much.” </div>
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A parent under stress
about the welfare of their child isn’t always thinking clearly. They are only seeing the end result. An end result that consists of their child
being ok and everything returning back to normal. The path that they choose to reach that end
result may not always be a logical one.
But that’s the thing, they don’t care.
Their kid is what lies in the balance.
Females are similar because they think more with their emotions than
with their brains. They allow their
feelings and what they want to happen to over shadow what probably should
happen. They have a “let’s get this done
now” mentality. When sometimes they
should use a “let’s discuss what the best way is for us to get this done so
we’re <i>both</i> happy” mentality. </div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KbF0SYIuz3twdAbF_sEqcw_4by8My9bbXg4J_vor3tyXlwhTKqQZiJKshdwJ_QXVx2cQF2n_drwU9ZBnzW4zx3UAaCesd25SUp0jBObfnV9WnSnNNezcEvZaXrSxYNeEzYeF8iip3HfX/s1600/images+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1KbF0SYIuz3twdAbF_sEqcw_4by8My9bbXg4J_vor3tyXlwhTKqQZiJKshdwJ_QXVx2cQF2n_drwU9ZBnzW4zx3UAaCesd25SUp0jBObfnV9WnSnNNezcEvZaXrSxYNeEzYeF8iip3HfX/s200/images+%25283%2529.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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I can’t speak for all men but I feel that if there was more
of that going on then the world as we know it would be much better place. How so, you ask? Well I’ll tell ya. If women took on this attitude more often
then there would be way less drama.
Remember when we discussed that topic?
If there is way less drama then that means their men would be less
stressed about making their women happy.
There would be less crimes committed, bills would get paid on time
causing the economy to rise and possibly even be better than it was before it
fell into the toilet. I didn’t even
mention how the effect of more sex would not only make men happier but women as
well. With this new found delightful
attitude, men and women both would perform better in bed which would relieve
even more stress and maybe even bring them closer together. They would go to work happy every day and
actually look forward to coming home so they can spend more time together. Again the crime rate would decrease, less
relationships and marriages would end and world peace might even finally
happen. All because everyone is too busy
having sex. Adversely, the population
might grow but if everyone bought condoms then the revenue coming from birth
control might have a positive effect on the economy which, again, is in the
toilet.</div>
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So you see, although thinking with your feelings can be a
good thing. Stop, and think with your
head sometimes. For some, it may be like
giving your common sense a pair of glasses and it having 20/20 vision. You’ll be able to see the assholes from far
away and also be able to finally notice that diamond in the rough that was
right in front of you. So all in all,
girls aren’t completely stupid, they just need a little refresher course from
time to time to remind them how to go about making a quality decision. That’s when men have a PhD in common sense,
and I don’t mean “Pretty Huge Dick” (Well some of us, yeah). Believe it or not
but boys can make the best teachers.
Because sometimes we can be somewhat smart.</div>
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<o:p> <i>The End</i></o:p></div>
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<o:p><i><br /></i></o:p></div>
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<o:p><i><br /></i></o:p></div>
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<o:p><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As usual please feel free to comment and leave your opinion. I welcome all kinds, negative or positive. Where would the world be without debate?</span></i></o:p></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-87518081769641633292011-11-01T17:21:00.000-07:002011-11-04T21:55:09.089-07:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart part 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...and we push on. This part acknowledges the great power that women already know that they have...and where they have it. It also tries to enlighten females to the fact that there are men out there who want much more than just what's in their pants. I know, you're probably shocked. Here's what to do: 1. Catch your breath that you lost after reading the above statement. 2. Collect yourself enough to pay extra close attention to the words that come next. When you're ready, you may begin.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyemWoIqxwNJR-5b_ojcEZavluV_uCTVDo6ojBrU0O7bNH006JjMMY1_ANB81QbJgaKCxAPir_fxJbd9rDCgWaKVdTarRBIs9H9LTN9saGypjM7J341uOqmB7ZM1wErVo1GYwjWhPzmAsg/s1600/strongwomen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyemWoIqxwNJR-5b_ojcEZavluV_uCTVDo6ojBrU0O7bNH006JjMMY1_ANB81QbJgaKCxAPir_fxJbd9rDCgWaKVdTarRBIs9H9LTN9saGypjM7J341uOqmB7ZM1wErVo1GYwjWhPzmAsg/s320/strongwomen.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
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<br />
Part 5:<br />
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Before the not-always-wonderful world of marriage comes
about, you need to be able to weed out the good ones from the bad ones and the
not so right for you ones. I know I’m
not going in order here but I don’t really care, it’s my article. You collate men the same way that we collate
women. By using our common sense. Ok, well our common sense sometimes comes
from a different area a little more southern than yours does. But we do have our moments when we are done
looking for <i>those</i> kinds of girls and
ready to start looking for <i>these</i>
kinds of girls. Girls, women, females,
same thing. Bear with me. Fact of the matter is, use your head
ladies. Then use your heart, a little
bit. Again don’t push away the nice ones
because quite frankly they don’t always come back. Then you all know who you’re stuck with. It’s either them, other women or your
vibrator. So choose wisely. <i>Wisely </i>being
the most important word here. That’s
when your common sense comes into play.
Wisdom plays a decent amount into the quality of your common sense. Although I’m sure you all already know this
but the first part of your wisdom comes from the fact that you hold all of the
power.</div>
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Despite what the most experienced and seasoned veteran of
female-manipulation that he may be, you hold the final say in all transactions
between the two of you. Whether that be
friendship, sex, relationship or marriage.
He may come across like it doesn’t matter to him but think about it, the
stereotype of society states that usually men are the ones who make the initial
approach. If he wasn’t interested in the
first place, then you’d know it. One
simple sign would take place that would instantly tip you off. He would ignore you, or at least he wouldn’t
flirt with you. This is sometimes used
as a tactic to get you to come to him.
But in this case, if he is paying you absolutely no mind at all, he has
no interest. Since he has chosen to
speak to you, he wants something.
Whether that something is friendship (yeah right), sex (9 times out of
10), a relationship (yeah right again) or marriage (hahahaha) is yet to be
determined. But whatever it may be, you
are the final judge, you hold the last say-so.
The choice is yours, so he can get with this or he can get going with
that. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbcGfMUNArQIvKqMYKe7l5ATsalZCERiFrNFK_lZphP7OybWCyv-65TG2Qr86c5lDlIBmqW3xq9ROK7ffPeH0lv4pJnPIgETCI6TR-7HijEpDsyiXmBzxX7xWyhfIHz6qgcR66Yd4OU1x/s1600/the-power-of-vagina-demotivational-poster-1228721132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbcGfMUNArQIvKqMYKe7l5ATsalZCERiFrNFK_lZphP7OybWCyv-65TG2Qr86c5lDlIBmqW3xq9ROK7ffPeH0lv4pJnPIgETCI6TR-7HijEpDsyiXmBzxX7xWyhfIHz6qgcR66Yd4OU1x/s320/the-power-of-vagina-demotivational-poster-1228721132.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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What makes this power so dangerous is that women already
know this. Well at least most of them
do. The late, great Ben Parker once told
his then naïve nephew that “With Great Power comes Great Responsibility”. No truer has this ever been as to when it is
applied to women. You hold pretty much
all of the cards. The even more so
dangerous part about this is that many of you choose to use this unimaginable
power for evil. You drive good dudes
insane who are more than willing to treat you like a queen and do your every
bidding. Not because they want your
vagina. But because, wait for it….wait
for it….they want your heart. </div>
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The only thing they care about is making you happy. Making sure you’re taken care of, that all of
your wants and concerns have been met.
Those are the type of men that you shouldn’t use your power to
manipulate. They’ve already been
manipulated, but in a good way, by the love that they have for your
personality. I personally feel that you
shouldn’t use your power to do anything bad but if you absolutely must play
your devious game then do it with the playboys that are way more willing and much
better equipped to play it with you.
Some men just want you, simply enough put, and nothing else in their life
will fill that void. Not just any woman
or whoever they might meet next but you.
They want you. These are the guys
that you should make worth your time and effort. Basic <i>and sensibly common</i> as that.</div>
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********************************************************************</div>
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<i>To be continued...</i></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-59700089443218663922011-10-27T17:55:00.000-07:002011-11-04T21:54:38.110-07:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart part 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...and it moves on some more. Now the topic shifts to the ever touchy subject of Marriage. Even guys don't mind talking about this "used-to-be-hated subject matter" nowadays. Well at the right time. Don't bring it up while he's watching the game if you don't want your feelings to be hurt. What? It's true.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI08RLDrqNda1Wouuuadxahilvbr8fzIOhqdqBdQ-iLpKhm6cgl_uS8ob41UAQoW1feLASWzkEPwp-3AJvpMVmzHqgwlHhxTzcilkGjrxjRh-S69VcWcwAAHeX9X9a2B9-DMxrI-QV6rjB/s1600/LIving-with-Divorce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI08RLDrqNda1Wouuuadxahilvbr8fzIOhqdqBdQ-iLpKhm6cgl_uS8ob41UAQoW1feLASWzkEPwp-3AJvpMVmzHqgwlHhxTzcilkGjrxjRh-S69VcWcwAAHeX9X9a2B9-DMxrI-QV6rjB/s320/LIving-with-Divorce.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Part 4:<br />
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Now let’s say you’ve finally found that perfect guy. He’s tall, clean cut, muscular and his wallet
weighs more than he does. Flawless. Don’t do something stupid like immediately
bring up the topic of marriage. Marriage
is a touchy subject nowadays. It really
isn’t how it used to be and how it was meant to be in this day and age. Marriage is more closely related to being a
trending style that comes and goes depending on the season. Some people get married because it’s the “in”
thing to do. Then, guess what, they get
divorced because it then becomes the next “in” thing to do. It wasn’t meant to be treated like that. Marriage, hate it or love it, is an idea that
is only intended for those who have truly indeed found the “one”. Not just the one that looks great in boxers
or drives a Mercedes or the one that bought you those earrings that can reflect
the heat of the sun. But the one that
will take care of you when you’re sick.
I mean really sick. Not a small
sniffle sick but you have colorful, very unappealing liquids leaking from
different parts of you sick. That’s real
love.</div>
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</div>
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Make sure that you really want to spend the rest of eternity
with this guy. Because he’s asking
himself and everyone else he knows the exact same question. That’s why he fainted when he got down on one
knee. The true value and reality of
marriage finally sank in. That’s much
better than it sinking in after you’re already married. It’s tough enough just considering waking up
to the same person every single day until one of you dies without you pushing
it on him. Fact, yes there’s that word again;
women initiate 70-75% of all divorces.
Pretty funny when you consider how much they push for marriage. Make sure he is who you want to be with! Furthermore don’t call off the wedding or
threaten to file for a divorce over something extremely stupid. It’s still pretty dumb, but it’s better to
break up over something stupid then get a divorce over something stupid or
someone stupid. </div>
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Like I said before, marriage is not a dress or purse that
you can return to the church you got it from just because you were smart enough
to keep the receipt. It takes work,
dedication, an ass-load of compromise and oh yeah more and more work. But just because it’s work shouldn’t mean it
becomes a job. You can quit a job, even
call your boss a pathetic pervert before you storm out. But you can’t quit your marriage. Hopefully you don’t call your husband a
pervert either. It’s ok if he checks out
your ass. Trust me, you want him to. </div>
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<o:p>**********************************************</o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><i>To be continued...</i></o:p></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-52259908890798719182011-10-20T17:55:00.000-07:002011-10-20T17:56:35.992-07:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart part 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
...and it goes on. This portion will speak on whether Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now is better for you. Yeah, You (I mean if you're a female). It also gives a birds and the bees explanation about how 'Assholes' are born. Spoiler: a stork has nothing to do with it. Again, enjoy.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNw_ZbMa_x5oOR5NojTbPT6wAdVOv7UnUDr_iIvj5-JsWGR_OfTzH0jahBUT1jj-y99iwINEelY-PD_uXCsfYcm898Oq67L0xoB4veuOi4iNjgWXYCIKOCZ0y7_Z3QXkTb0I7nNGuEXRIi/s1600/Mr-Right-Now-by-scorpionkiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNw_ZbMa_x5oOR5NojTbPT6wAdVOv7UnUDr_iIvj5-JsWGR_OfTzH0jahBUT1jj-y99iwINEelY-PD_uXCsfYcm898Oq67L0xoB4veuOi4iNjgWXYCIKOCZ0y7_Z3QXkTb0I7nNGuEXRIi/s1600/Mr-Right-Now-by-scorpionkiss.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Part 3:<br />
<br /></div>
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Next topic: Choosing Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now. Which one should you take? That all depends not completely on your
common sense level but also what you are looking for at that specific time in
your life. You might be at that stage
when you’re ready to settle down, put a stop to all of the nightly clubbing and
loose sex with complete strangers you’ve been having and pick just one
guy. One guy to spend the rest of your
natural life together. Just One. Not one until you grow tired of him and find
a seemingly better model for you to upgrade to.
No, just one. Sorry. <br />
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No?
Not at that point in your life yet?
You’re young, super hot and have a sexual drive that would make Jenna
Jameson jealous? Then you want the Right
Now guy. The guy that is only into you
for sex and is probably sleeping with at least a couple of your friends behind
your trusting back. Maybe you’re at that
other point in your life. Oh, you didn’t
know there was a third one, did you? The
professional point when you’re focusing on your career and have no time for a
guy, unless of course you need that very detailed itch scratched a few times. I think the Right Now guy fits this category
as well but for good measure we’ll mix in a smidgen of Mr. Right in there so
he’s not banging your friends.</div>
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<br /></div>
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You need to pick one.
You need to pick one and you need to let him know exactly what your
intentions are. Just like how you think
and feel that it is such a cop out for him to be prick and lead you on, the
same goes for you. Believe it or not, he
has feelings too. “Holy Crap Sean, are
you freaking serious?!” Yes, I know it’s
a shock and you couldn’t fathom anyone with a penis possibly thinking with that
thing that pushes blood through the rest of their body that lives in his chest
but it does happen. On those rare
occasions when the moon turns a pale color of silver and the stars align in the
night sky and we’ll all be able to drive vehicles that run on gasoline, things
like this happen. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Guys actually use
their feelings and not their dicks to make decisions. Feelings aren’t always the best to make a
decision, thus the need for this article but there are very precious instances
when you should actually believe him when he looks you in the eye, holds your
hand and says, “I Love You”. You should
really believe him if you wake up the next morning and he is still lying in bed
next to you. You really, really believe
him if he is cuddling with you.</div>
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All I’m trying to say is let them know. Don’t make them think they spent all of this
time…and money (having a girlfriend is sometimes like having an extra bill to
pay) going out of their way to not treat you like a bitch and you turn around
and treat them, yeah, like you’re a Bitch.
It’s very disappointing and only makes it harder for the next woman that
comes around to not get treated like crap.
Then you wonder where all of these horrible assholes are coming
from. You! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Assholes do not materialize out of thin
air. They are born, mainly because they
put their heart and soul into someone who they thought were special and they
got kicked to the side like that person was trying to win the Super Bowl on a
last minute field goal. It’s the common
case of the trickle-down effect. You get
treated badly so you treat the next person even worse. It can also be referred to as the domino
effect, whichever you’d like to call it.
Either way, it’s risky, stupid and just downright mean. So don’t be a bitch because they really suck.</div>
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**********************************************</div>
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<i>To be continued...</i></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-85421915982608164422011-10-17T11:51:00.000-07:002011-10-17T11:51:30.096-07:00"Sex $#!t"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-nlG-uznhFZ0dLBXVSjjVXxCO-p_VBwR95fFFSCIocVpOUOAmS06fvJJu8rEc3IpJFveKDKEfS49Zvq4JQvALzkQERxwtvHiMIhk7SUBNM21E-_AfX9ZIhVEcTFxoj0ip2nzrJPgIC83/s1600/1125-feet-sex-bed-couple_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-nlG-uznhFZ0dLBXVSjjVXxCO-p_VBwR95fFFSCIocVpOUOAmS06fvJJu8rEc3IpJFveKDKEfS49Zvq4JQvALzkQERxwtvHiMIhk7SUBNM21E-_AfX9ZIhVEcTFxoj0ip2nzrJPgIC83/s320/1125-feet-sex-bed-couple_sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;">
More than just sex, I
wanna give you my excess</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
This and that,
Everything left over from past Ex’s</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Things taken way back
from unsent text’s</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
I hope to see a
shooting star and make you my next wish</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
So much trust, I feel
safe to enter unprotected</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Remove our clothes and
throw away the contraceptive</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Before I proceed I must
stop to give you a wet kiss</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Down below, more than a
meal, girl You’re the best dish</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Your body squirming, my
tongue got you grabbing your necklace</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Made a move with my
finger and your legs almost broke my neck disk</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
I signed my name right
there cuz this ain’t no guest list</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
I should be the only
one down here cuz they ain’t no guest lips</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
I come up for air like
I’ve been under the deck ship</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
I pull out the
sledgehammer because I’m about to wreck this</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
You grab my arm and I
think maybe you don’t want to test this</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
But the provocative
look in your eye says “Baby, come get this”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
A low squeak escapes
your lips and I find those wet hips</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Because I want you to
really feel it and they make the best grips</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Every taste of your
sweat makes me eager for the next sip</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Your pelvic bone
stinging against mine like a brand new latex whip</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
A long while later and
I’m sure the neighbors heard the best of it</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Tried some stuff that
had you flopping around like a wet fish</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
We lie next to each
other, bodies still pulsing, basking in our own sex mist</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
Nail marks in my back,
teeth scars on my ear, I know you’ll never forget this</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-75263976823538835742011-10-16T18:22:00.000-07:002011-10-20T17:58:23.807-07:00Please, Please, Please<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8N6IS_loUaJY0lPEtpdUCne9gjmhzcWBL9RxKEtvH07D_yL5l5mTqLN6cTpCcxycIq6CqU0-T2gyEgfLtUdG5EQrO8Nn9VP5GYpGOWgoqPJpc4nUPVmhxL2sOmjcG0Th_gPUmgGONrGEG/s1600/burning_love_in_Eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8N6IS_loUaJY0lPEtpdUCne9gjmhzcWBL9RxKEtvH07D_yL5l5mTqLN6cTpCcxycIq6CqU0-T2gyEgfLtUdG5EQrO8Nn9VP5GYpGOWgoqPJpc4nUPVmhxL2sOmjcG0Th_gPUmgGONrGEG/s320/burning_love_in_Eye.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Apple Chancery'; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Overwhelming emotional state <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Feelings of a crush I can’t mistake<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I can’t deny my lust for you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Or wishing I were deep inside of you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Just seeing you takes my breath away<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Get’s me lightheaded and I start to sway<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The rush of adrenaline spurts and sprays<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Through my body like scorching flames<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Everything about you intrigues me<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Your smile and your bright white teeth<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Long blonde hair blowing oh so carefree<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And those legs<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Attached to those gorgeous feet<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And my favorite pumps make me so horny<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If I had them all they’d definitely complete me<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Your skin so soft… slightly warm to the touch<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I constantly wonder if you want to fuck<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’d make you love me so much <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">You’d turn psycho which is just my luck<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">You’d have access to a hot guy <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cars, money… and a bit of the sweet life too<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Just as long as I can keep fucking you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’m glad I’m not a stalker or a thief<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cuz I would have already been in your house<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And have a few pairs of your panties<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But sometimes I think it could be easy for me<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Stepping across the line and going crazy<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Meeting you at a sultry hideaway<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So we can fuck and fuck and fuck the night away<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Bend you over my knee while I make you whisper<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Please, please, please<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Just keep fucking me</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: DaunPenh;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>by Phillip Michael</i></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-45576059165685781732011-10-16T16:41:00.000-07:002011-10-16T16:41:55.916-07:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">...and we continue on. This second part focuses more on the non-necessity that is drama and the even more needlessness (I think that's a word) of it being present in a relationship. If you want that relationship to last anyways. Enjoy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY4m4KlMrG87t3YYHVe7uIt_hMnvobVNPczQgGk7Dbxegnq9DdwfDiXnYvDcXBIb_PpUXePyV2u1Yz-3JDXF7zDNXba4OzU7e99Z-ZsF9nGunWZrhhLYy3SpflIZ6a4IXItdF2wwGl8hc/s1600/50316_127720302240_7722044_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY4m4KlMrG87t3YYHVe7uIt_hMnvobVNPczQgGk7Dbxegnq9DdwfDiXnYvDcXBIb_PpUXePyV2u1Yz-3JDXF7zDNXba4OzU7e99Z-ZsF9nGunWZrhhLYy3SpflIZ6a4IXItdF2wwGl8hc/s320/50316_127720302240_7722044_n.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Part 2:</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Back tracking to using your common sense about making the
right choice, all I want to say is this: USE IT! That is why God provided us
with it. You have plenty of other
attributes that He also gave you to use for other things. You want a college degree? Use that part of
the brain that controls intelligence.
You want to go running? Use your
legs. You want to coerce you dude into
doing something for you? Bat your
eyelashes, use your “sweet” asking voice, your unfair right to withhold sex and
the power of your precious vagina. You
want to keep a good man? Don’t make
petty excuses not to keep him like his hair grows funny or he doesn’t have a
specific job or he snores in his sleep.
I’m pretty sure you snore in your sleep too but he doesn’t tell you
because he knows it might make you feel self conscious about yourself.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">That
is what I mean about using your common sense.
Common sense says don’t give up on something good just because it isn’t
perfect. Idealness has a tendency to
become boring and we all know what you love to do whenever things get boring; create
drama. That brings me to my next topic
of discussion, the ever hated and loathed, by men anyway, entity of drama. Ladies, as my mother always says, “Sean, take
my stupid advice…”, and please oh please try your very best not to bring drama
to the table. If he doesn’t start it
then why should you? Yes, drama makes
for great entertainment on television, in the movies and in books, heck even in
real life. But it’s something that is always
nice to look at from afar when it’s happening to someone else. It really sucks when it happens to you. So just don’t make it. Especially unnecessary drama.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3y1UtBXUzajYRYs0wCC6i_Vgzn-dWhioEhryMD5luNMjDIEZFBsNIM95djsedFk3IHIkFBj_Y6-np3Gcjkn48D1wjFkGAAMrOUuY1yBrOaNeOummL8_HmXXD-m51nFQqT0lFLXiwUhADH/s1600/dealwithit+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3y1UtBXUzajYRYs0wCC6i_Vgzn-dWhioEhryMD5luNMjDIEZFBsNIM95djsedFk3IHIkFBj_Y6-np3Gcjkn48D1wjFkGAAMrOUuY1yBrOaNeOummL8_HmXXD-m51nFQqT0lFLXiwUhADH/s200/dealwithit+%25281%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Again,
for those of you who don’t understand what that means, that is drama that
doesn’t <i>have</i> to happen. Not only does it not have to happen but it’s
probably really stupid that it is happening. Thus, another reason for the lovely
title of this whole thing. I’m going to
let you in on a tiny piece of super top-secret advice; guys hate drama…we
really, really do. As a matter of fact,
your chances of him liking you immensely increases the longer you refrain from
any kind of drama while the two of you are together. That’s a win in my book. Since drama-free females are a pretty rare species,
you will most likely be treated like gold or some other really precious natural
resource.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If you don’t believe me, then have a listen to this. Every single female that I have had the
pleasure and not-so pleasurable chance of meeting all had a similar aspect that
they follow when it came to their friends.
They all had way more guy friends than they did girlfriends. One simple reason; women love to start
drama. They all said they enjoyed
hanging out with their guy friends way more than they did with the
alternative. They knew that whenever
they hung out with their female friends, especially if they were more along the
kind of being acquaintances than actual close friends then the possibility of
some type of drama, usually the unnecessary kind, could rear its ridiculously
ugly head. That same possibility
drastically dropped when they were with their male friends, acquaintances or
close friends. Though if they were only
acquaintances, the chance that the guy would want something more usually loomed
about just waiting to pounce like a dirty old man with a bottle of Viagra. All in all, follow this acronym; STD. Stop the Drama. What?
What did you think it meant?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">***********************************************************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>To be continued...</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-35386465220637194242011-10-12T08:30:00.000-07:002011-10-12T09:10:37.146-07:00Girls are Stupid, Boys are Somewhat Smart<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">First of a six part piece discussing my thoughts on females and common sense. Feel free to comment about any and everything. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I'm close minded so I hope that you read with an open one.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Part 1:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes, the title does say that and yes, I did come up with it
all by myself. But no, I do not exactly
mean what the title says. Well, to an
extent. You see when I say that “Girls
are Stupid”, and I’ve used that phrase plenty of times in my existence, I don’t
exactly mean all females are blithering idiots.
This has nothing to do with basic and pure intelligence. I’m not questioning your smarts because you
may have failed to do substantially well on that rather easy open-book exam
back in high school. What I am
questioning, again only to an extent, is the female level of pure and basic
common sense. Common sense and
intelligence are of two different categories. </span></div>
<a name='more'></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Intelligence can be specifically defined as the capacity for
learning, reasoning, understanding and other similar forms of mental
activity. Common sense or logic can hold
a definition of sound practical judgment that is independent of specialized
knowledge and/or training. In other
words my fact junkies, intelligence basically consists of how smart you are
which is contributed to by how good your memory is and we all know how women
are absolutely terrific at remembering things, especially if it’s something
negative about a guy. In adverse, you
can have tons of common sense without actually knowing anything factual at
all. It is purely based on how well you
can react to and handle a specific situation.
Something that not everyone is typically good at.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When it comes to the presence of basic common sense, I will
admit that females are probably naturally better at having that more so than
males. This, as I would imagine, is most
likely due to the fact, yes I said fact, that they literally mature faster than
we do. For those of you who didn’t
understand that last part, that means that they “grow up” quicker. They usually grasp the concept of being an
adult before we do. I did say <i>usually</i>, as this does not happen with
everyone. Some girls grow up to be
magnificent, well educated and wonderful women.
The kind that even the most dedicated bad boy and player can’t wait to bring
home to mommy and daddy. Others, well
others just choose not to use their “common sense”.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes, the same can be said about men. I will, without hesitation, support the fact that
the debate about intelligence and common sense can be placed on a
person-by-person basis. But I can’t
ignore the fact, yes I used the word fact again, that I have come across many
women who, for whatever reason, love to pick the wrong option when presented
with a choice. Many choices, especially
life choices, can be pretty tough. Tough
as in you can go your entire lifetime and still not be able to make a
decision. But the types of choices and
situations that I speak of seem fairly simple.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Relax, before you begin to feel that I’m going to leave you
hanging, I will provide some examples.
Since we’re discussing gender here, specifically females, I’ll start
with a topic that they bring up a lot.
Relationships and the “fact” that there aren’t any good men out
there. Oh, there are good men out there,
just like there are good women. You just
need to find them and when you do find them, Don’t. Push. Them. Away. Pushing them away can be done by smothering
them, being too picky about how they treat you or my personal favorite, “Going
Crazy”.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">First, no one likes a smotherer. Yes, you like me. I think that’s totally awesome dude but we
both need our space. Ever heard the
phrase “Absence makes the Heart grow Fonder”?
Learn it, utilize it, adopt it, please.
Second, being too picky about how they treat you or about who they are
is another touchy one. We all know you
like what you like and you so desperately want what you want. That’s good because there are way too many
women out there that have absolutely no clue as to what they may want. But sometimes you have to just accept the
certain way a guy is. Not settle but
accept. Settling is dealing with his
bullshit. Flirting with other girls, not
talking to you, pretty much treating you like crap. That’s settling. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">No one wants to be in a relationship like
that and I’m sure no one really truly deserves it. Accepting is being happy that he took you to
that fancy restaurant when he was finally able to get a day off from work
instead of going completely out of his way and his budget to also get you that
diamond encrusted necklace that you saw at the mall last week. Be happy that you have a good guy that truly
cares for you because, trust me, there are about 2 dozen other women who see
him for what he is and will have no moral dilemma prying him away from you and
that’s only the ones in your neighborhood.
You don’t know about the plethora of business casual mini-skirts waiting
for him to arrive at work every morning.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh, and the epic and very classic “Going Crazy”. I have a theory. Yes, I have plenty of theories, but this one
I stand by in a pair of cement sneakers.
Every female, and I mean <i>every</i>
human being who owns a pair of ovaries, will at some time during their natural
life, go crazy. “Going Crazy” can range
from throwing their man’s entire collection of Italian suits in his luxury car
and setting the lot on fire to calling that girl you <b>think</b> (as in having a feeling about, not really knowing for sure),
but only have a feeling that he’s cheating on you with and cursing her out six
ways from any day to trying to push him down not one but two flights of stairs
because you’re “upset” about something.
I really hope that something is worth his life and the time in prison
that you’ll be doing for first degree murder.
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will comment and say that not all women “Go Crazy” all by
themselves. Sometimes they are driven to
it. Maybe their man really was cheating
with that slut-whore-bitch with the absolutely perfect ass. Perhaps he came at you with his fists
clenched again and you’ve had enough of trying to hide that black eye from your
family and friends. Maybe he’s just an
all around asshole and he really simply deserves a wake-up call on how to treat
a real women. Those instances of “Going
Crazy” are all warranted. But maybe you
should go about dishing out punishments that won’t either get you locked up or
your kids taken away but all in all that douche bag had it coming to him. Now I’ll step down off of my Tyler Perry soapbox.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>To be continued...</i></span></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-82180479347227612602011-08-28T00:31:00.000-07:002011-08-28T00:31:07.347-07:00"Hurricane Party"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7He-sgxnmFQjOw9Hq8igjttCGHnvHdy4Oro5Y2q4LZ0pyS12f_XmySCltpvaFNed-RsmXicjypFwiZWsNHKrk22oJENjGIJ34WIUq5ZVFqxRxETlejbyJ_d4bznhVEwMl2aQHYHWVjdW/s1600/hurricane_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7He-sgxnmFQjOw9Hq8igjttCGHnvHdy4Oro5Y2q4LZ0pyS12f_XmySCltpvaFNed-RsmXicjypFwiZWsNHKrk22oJENjGIJ34WIUq5ZVFqxRxETlejbyJ_d4bznhVEwMl2aQHYHWVjdW/s400/hurricane_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hurricane</div>
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Storm</div>
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Special state of mind</div>
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Feeling that way</div>
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Phone Call</div>
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Raining</div>
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Watch her Arrive</div>
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Wind whistling</div>
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Perfume</div>
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Hips</div>
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Breasts</div>
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Lips</div>
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Bedroom</div>
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Clothes </div>
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Off</div>
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Legs</div>
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Separate</div>
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Wet Inside</div>
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Wet Outside</div>
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Howling</div>
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Her Inside</div>
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Wind Outside</div>
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Finished</div>
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Water hitting the window</div>
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"Thank you” Kiss</div>
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"Goodbye" Glance</div>
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Clothes</div>
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Back on</div>
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Watch her Leave</div>
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Wet Walk of Shame </div>
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Ain’t nothing like a Hurricane Storm Party</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<i>by ML Kasper Kain</i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-55342964691113731642011-08-08T19:09:00.000-07:002011-08-08T19:09:47.466-07:00Me vs. Emotion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-TcY201uP4vlV3020ca_LbeB6YwEg8N23lm8Oanb9rbalzKgizyH8U-TQe0o4kvpHQdWwT_rUBX2PNaVXRTlih4eyiaw2yZR_NmPbOH9eSJU-rrWJNvek0yNZaocQPfeRg3ikvKxWsoL/s1600/The_Blacy_icons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-TcY201uP4vlV3020ca_LbeB6YwEg8N23lm8Oanb9rbalzKgizyH8U-TQe0o4kvpHQdWwT_rUBX2PNaVXRTlih4eyiaw2yZR_NmPbOH9eSJU-rrWJNvek0yNZaocQPfeRg3ikvKxWsoL/s320/The_Blacy_icons.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>"Where would you be without them?"</b></div>
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<b><br />
</b></div>
In all honesty, I didn’t think writing about this was going to be as difficult as it wound up being. I do realize it’s a bit of an odd topic to discuss it’s something I’ve been obsessed with for as long as I could remember. Emotions. It’s hard to define specifically what an emotion is, yet it’s the driving force behind each and every one of our actions and decisions throughout our lives. Similar to the soul, they help to define not only who we are but why we are the way we are. It’s possible the two are even linked somehow. There are dozens of different emotions we all experience throughout our lives but I’ll only discuss very briefly the different ones we are all familiar with.<br />
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<i><u>Anger; Frustration; Hostility; Rage; Resentment</u></i><br />
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These can all be generalized to one word… hatred. Out of all the emotions we experience, hatred is one I find most fascinating. It’s the one emotion people tend to not want to acknowledge due to the negative connotations the word often brings. Some of the most heinous crimes committed throughout the worlds’ history have been carried out due to hatred including genocide. It’s the emotion that lingers and festers in the mind, causing people to potentially do unspeakable things when it gets to be too much to control. Of course we all know the large majority of us will never let hatred control our actions to such an extreme degree, but whenever you see or hear someone expressing themselves in an overtly hostile way, can you not help but take a little caution? Intense hatred in one person or a group of people can draw out fear in others. It’s the only emotion people are afraid of which is why in part I find it so intriguing. The other part… I believe that we all have an inner rage inside of us, but due its social discontent at those who express it albeit in a harmless or harmful way, not everyone wants to acknowledge it within themselves. But is hatred truly an evil emotion? When a person is mistreated, anger can give that person needed strength to stand up for themselves. So when we see anger and hatred in a person should we automatically be afraid and look down on them? No. On the contrary, I think we as a society should stop being gigantic pussies about it.<br />
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<i><u>Anxiety; Regret; Despair; Guilt; Misery; Shame</u></i><br />
<i><u><br />
</u></i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineEedfF5uvu6ygbGwlUHD28l0TkzCac499r2enTy3HxDq34k7U2vaiz_nCZ-H2vfQ4jmPC7OGwBKMr71SA-JjlS5DDbeNCYuFkJAy81RTGFCBRBoZVnFPQ0GWpF3GkxnTqBi5NJsVAQha/s1600/med-1044-depression.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineEedfF5uvu6ygbGwlUHD28l0TkzCac499r2enTy3HxDq34k7U2vaiz_nCZ-H2vfQ4jmPC7OGwBKMr71SA-JjlS5DDbeNCYuFkJAy81RTGFCBRBoZVnFPQ0GWpF3GkxnTqBi5NJsVAQha/s200/med-1044-depression.JPG" width="200" /></a>These can all be summed up in one word… depression. Out of all the emotions out there, I think depression is the one I can relate to the most. The only emotion we experience that is considered a disease, strong depression in a person can be physically crippling or at least feel like it is. We all experience depression on some level, ranging from a small insecurity we can’t seem to shake to a traumatic experience that can change the course of our lives. Whereas hatred can cause people to lash out at others, depression can cause people to lash out towards themselves with the most severe result being suicide from those that are not able to control it. It’s definitely a serious emotion and something not to be taken lightly, however there are those who have taken their struggles with depression and successfully made the proverbial glass of lemonade out of it. Some of the most prolific artists, writers and musicians have created their best pieces of work due to their despair, learning how to express themselves in their art through their most troubling times. So when we all experience insecurity and depression should we just give up hope and let it eat away at our souls? No. I say embrace it and learn how to use it to make you a better person.<br />
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<u><i>Affection; Passion; Compassion; Desire; Longing</i></u><br />
<u><i><br />
</i></u><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZfr4alhMeWZcJeFTa4jpmh27s2Z8qcPAE_dVbQeoRIbQzmnzF3qeoTAqRfPwEpSmRRKLYb-rT4szI0FBjRNBef38OwOjRh4u7XBSu3b8HcHxfN_yJYcNVUwBXl_7_OAGCjiMKZfqcT9o/s1600/large_red_love_sign_xlarge.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZfr4alhMeWZcJeFTa4jpmh27s2Z8qcPAE_dVbQeoRIbQzmnzF3qeoTAqRfPwEpSmRRKLYb-rT4szI0FBjRNBef38OwOjRh4u7XBSu3b8HcHxfN_yJYcNVUwBXl_7_OAGCjiMKZfqcT9o/s200/large_red_love_sign_xlarge.jpeg" width="133" /></a>Love… can’t really talk about emotions and feelings without talking about this one can we? Billions of people consume themselves with the task of searching for love. It’s even been said by many that love conquers all. Whether that’s true or not most of us want to believe it, and maybe there might be some truth to that statement. Love is capable of curing depression and the pain from a broken heart can cause severe hatred in a person. With love being the only sought after emotion (aside from happiness which some people only equate with being in love), the truth is we all need love on some level either from family and friends or from a significant other. Is love truly the most powerful and most important emotion we all experience? Despite my fascination with hatred the truth is I actually like love. Not because it’s a wonderful and magical virtue of all of the humans’ positive traits (I threw up a little writing that), but because of what it’s capable of doing to the human mind.<br />
<br />
As I stated earlier it’s been said by many that love conquers all. It’s also been said that one of the worst reasons to make important decisions is for love. Why? We tend to make decisions we would not normally make and anybody who has ever been in love knows exactly what I’m talking about. These decisions include but are not limited to deciding to share a bank account with someone you probably shouldn’t be sharing one with, to choosing to wait outside a person’s house to just to get a glimpse of a person you’ve become infatuated with. And I’m sure we’ve all heard stories about spouses killing their loved ones or even themselves due to their love being betrayed or abused. Sometimes love has the ability to blur the line between rationality and insanity more than it needs to be blurred, and there are people out there who have a hard time telling the two apart.<br />
<br />
If the brain is the strongest muscle in the body, how powerful are emotions? They are after all what govern the brain. If you want to hit someone, your brain may be what tells your arm to raise itself and swing, but it’s the anger you feel that makes you decide the person in front of you needs to be hit. But this isn’t really news to anyone right… nothing riveting about anything you’ve read so far? So what exactly was the point to all of this? Is it to prove that even the more undesirable emotions can have their place in the human life cycle, while the most sought after and arguably most important one of them all has its flaw? Not it either. Years ago I got a tattoo on my stomach of a vampire; inspired from the notion that vampires aren’t bound by the shackles of any emotion. The point of this is to ask the question, if given the opportunity could you and would you strip yourselves of all feelings?<br />
<br />
You may never have to suffer from the crippling weight of depression, but you also will never experience the joys of being loved. As a person who lives within his own head and as someone who is constantly looking inward for the answers to all of life’s questions I am in no question a slave to my own emotions, explicitly allowing them to dictate how I live my life with no shame or regrets about it. But it is because of this that I often fantasize, sometimes for hours at a time, about where and what I would be without them. So as I finally end this I pose the question for you all, where would you be without your emotions? <i>"1265"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>by Andre Harry</i></div>
</div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-1782427737916686212011-07-18T23:53:00.000-07:002011-07-18T23:53:43.577-07:00Silent Suffering<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5iamh_OwcFtxc8x2i2mAo8761gyuearyS4rm_VtfW_ZX1Wsi_ljo1hRA0q89CbwMIe1NJn-VDZ0DIUqZ7IIIWkXfQvmmr6QSwZvZ6u3GXbNTMXhePiI4OV0SQuvDNfyIDaEwq9KlqKXe/s1600/suffering.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5iamh_OwcFtxc8x2i2mAo8761gyuearyS4rm_VtfW_ZX1Wsi_ljo1hRA0q89CbwMIe1NJn-VDZ0DIUqZ7IIIWkXfQvmmr6QSwZvZ6u3GXbNTMXhePiI4OV0SQuvDNfyIDaEwq9KlqKXe/s400/suffering.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He pulled his car into the parking lot and shifted it into
park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked around the small, quaint
restaurant before exiting the vehicle to see if he noticed the familiar gray
coupe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, it wasn’t in that corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned to look in the other part of the
lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope, not there either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was weird, she had texted him and said
she was only a couple of minutes away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just as that thought crossed his mind, the two-door sports car rolled
past his car and parked a couple of spaces away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He quickly looked away before she could notice him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of the corner of his eye, he could see
her get out of her car and begin to walk toward the entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She looked as good as ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her jeans cupped her body; the tank top she
was wearing revealed just enough skin to make a man wonder what was
underneath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To top it off, her heels
made a slight sound on the pavement that seemed to whisper the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sexy</i> with every step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He watched her walk all the way into the
restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a show it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After she disappeared behind the front door,
he took a deep breath and stepped out into the parking lot.</div>
<a name='more'></a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
He could feel the pace of his heart quicken with every inch
that he got closer to the building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
desperately tried to slow it down, but it was useless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He placed his hand over his chest as a last
resort and could feel the thumping through his shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mouth began to dry a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He quickly licked his lips in attempt to
combat the dryness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He placed his hand
on the handle of the door and with one last extra deep breath, he pulled it
open and stepped inside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was seated across the restaurant towards the back near a
window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The emptiness of the establishment
made it easy for him to spot her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
door made a little noise to alert the hostess when customers arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hostess walked towards him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The noise had also gotten the girls’ who he
was there to see attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned
her head in his direction and looked at him through her sunglasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told the hostess that he was meeting a
friend and he walked to the back where she was already sitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He offered up a smile but was only met with a
slight sarcastic smirk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi,” she replied.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The awkwardness instantly surrounded them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t know what to say next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew what he wanted to tell her but he
didn’t know how to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He played out
this moment so many times in the last 24 hours; he figured it would be
easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pulse was racing, his palms began to
moisten and he had a knot in his throat the size of a grapefruit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took off her glasses revealing her stunning
green eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He quickly wished she had
kept them on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her beauty wasn’t helping
his nervousness any.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So, what was so important that you dragged me out here?”
she asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘dragged’,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Either way, I’m here, what’s going on?” she asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Look,” he began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I know
we’ve had differences in the past and the relationship didn’t quite end the way
that either one of us wanted."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
as he was beginning to feel a little comfortable, their waiter came by and gave
the usual spiel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll just have water for right now,” he told the
waiter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Anything for you?” he asked
her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A club soda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank
you,” she said in the waiter’s direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The waiter announced that he would be right back and walked away to
retrieve their drinks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“As you were saying..,” she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yea, as I was saying, I think if we were given another
chance that we could make this work,” he told her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I think we owe it to ourselves.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Um, I don’t know about that,” she replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a brief pause between them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You don’t?” he finally asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, I don’t,” he answered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, why not?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I just don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
a feeling that you asked me here today to for this very reason but I just…I don’t
think we match,” she explained.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Match?” he started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We’ve
matched pretty well for the last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had
so many great times together, hardly ever fought, what is the problem?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The waiter returned with their drinks but he showed no
interest in his water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She picked up her
straw, unwrapped it, dipped it into her club soda and began to drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The waiter then asked what they would be
having for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told the waiter
that they weren’t ready just yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Giving
them some more time, the waiter walked away once more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well…what?” he asked her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I never really had any feelings for you,” she blurted out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What do you mean…never?” he asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I mean I kind of liked you but you never really did it for
me,” she continued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“At first, when you
asked me out, I thought you were cute and then you turned out to be funny too
but after a while, I sort of just got tired of you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I don’t understand,” he replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What about all of the times you would call
me in the middle of the night and I would come running?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of the personal things you shared with
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The talk about settling down and
starting a family.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Honestly, I was just talking,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You were a really good listener and I didn’t
really have any intention of settling down with you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those last set of words struck his now regular heartbeat
like a spear had went through his chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Never intended…?”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did she mean by that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could she look him in the eye and say
something like that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t believe
what he was hearing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he tried to
gather his thoughts and process exactly what she had just said to him, she
continued to sip her club soda.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So what, I was just some kind of ‘time filler’ for you or
something?” he asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“When you say it like that, it sounds really bad, but I
guess you were, yeah,” she answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
this point he really wanted to reach across the table and plunge his fist deep
into her face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But despite the eventual
jail time that he would serve, he still loved her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t bring himself to ever harm her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting there, he felt like someone had
stolen his lungs and left him to attempt to breathe on his own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A physical pain was beginning to stir within
his chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But nothing would compare to
the hurt that he would feel by what she said next.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Truthfully, I wasn’t going to tell you this but although I
considered you my ‘boyfriend’, I was still seeing someone else,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His ears along with his entire body perked up
to this news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m sorry, but I just saw
myself with him much more than I ever did with you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You were seeing someone else?” he repeated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How long?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We don’t need to discuss that part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll spare you any details,” she answered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Did you sleep with him?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her eyes fell down to her soda as she stirred the straw around in
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her silence enough provided him with
the answer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I LOVED you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean
I was deeply in love with you,” he screamed at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew he was being loud but at the moment
didn’t really care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I treated you like,
like you were a princess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wiped your
tears when you were sad, made you laugh when you were upset and held you until
you fell asleep. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What the hell is wrong
with you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This response from him surprisingly made her feel a little
bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could tell that his reaction had
some actual depth because she couldn’t even look at him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was ashamed of what she had done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How she had treated him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The secrets she had kept from him and she
began to regret it…a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But not
quite enough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She snatched up her sunglasses and her purse and walked past
him but not before saying something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
placed her hand on his arm and said: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Look, I’m sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
know it was wrong and I’m sure you didn’t deserve it but I just don’t feel that
way about you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some lucky girl out there
should have you, not me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that she
put her sunglasses back on and walked out of the restaurant and out of his
life, for good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Devastated and wanting to run after her, he sat back
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wanted to go after her for two
reasons: to yell at her some more and ask her more questions, and to beg her to
give them another chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that would
be stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hard enough accepting
that fact that this person that he had cared so much for didn’t care back. Had <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i> cared back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That may have been the worse part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Learning that basically the entire relationship
was a lie, she never loved him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He dug into his wallet and threw some money on the table
before leaving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He jumped in his car and
tore out of the parking lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sped through
the neighborhood in hope of releasing his anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it wasn’t working; the more he thought
about her the harder he pressed the gas pedal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His car weaved in and out of side streets with reckless abandon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He failed to stop at a red light, tearing
right through the intersection earning many honks and beeps from other
drivers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t care, so why should he care? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had given her everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had been the one who mustered up the courage,
going out of his way to set up this little meeting between them and she had
spat in his face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every memory that passed through his head about them made
him angrier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every nice thing he had
ever done for her pissed him off even more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He fought back tears that were beginning to well up in his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want to shed any over her, she wasn’t
worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His engine revved as he
continued to speed through town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally
he reached the city limits where he could take his frustration out on the
highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he never got that far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A very narrow curve in the road yielded to a
tree at the end of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His car zoomed
off the road and collided with the tree with such force that the tree broke in
half and fell on top of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the workers pulled his lifeless body from the wreckage,
they couldn’t decipher whether he had died from the initial crash or from the
tree crushing the roof of the car in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Either way, he was a distant memory now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just like their relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
wouldn’t get to find out if she would even care that he had been in an
accident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t tell anyone about
his heartache, especially not her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
had to suffer in silence, forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ironically, the last thought that he had in his head as his car struck
that tree was of the two them at a picnic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They had sat under a tree and spent the entire day lying in each other’s
arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A memory about the girl whom he
had loved with all of his heart and soul but who hadn’t loved him back. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<i>by ML Kasper Kain</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-67037423397104116522011-07-12T22:25:00.000-07:002011-07-12T22:25:56.936-07:00Fast Cars to Toolbars<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<pre style="line-height: 17px; white-space: normal;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4X0xwJmCahfEuZ8W89OtFVWtNs6EV2oKciQkb9eriUvg0wER38KNDCHhwKaZF2noOJCPFYsSjxSg3X43dt2_dtBIpviGddNCdVaaF1yIjGZbLusvZPWXjY2ALlJRU4un0JVo8dO-tX69x/s1600/delete-search-from-firefox.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4X0xwJmCahfEuZ8W89OtFVWtNs6EV2oKciQkb9eriUvg0wER38KNDCHhwKaZF2noOJCPFYsSjxSg3X43dt2_dtBIpviGddNCdVaaF1yIjGZbLusvZPWXjY2ALlJRU4un0JVo8dO-tX69x/s1600/delete-search-from-firefox.png" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
History lessons aren't always good</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Toolbars will leave u drunk in a bar</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Previous calls will cause progress to be stalled</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Accidental clicks will make her clock tick</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Its a battle of good and evil</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And which side one will choose</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Who's who and what's what</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Her story is skewered by the sewer she inhales</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Oxygen, hydrogen, aqua, WE fail</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Deep inside, his story is open </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
While hers is linear,</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Their hope for heartbreak</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Is left to a cellular</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Search, a temporary internet file</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
A wall post, a newly discovered profile</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
On a site meant to be tucked away,</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Damn is history here to save the day</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Or slave her astray?</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>
</i></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>by ThaAntagonyst</i></div>
</div>
</pre>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-34749531945058141562011-07-10T21:09:00.000-07:002011-07-10T21:12:03.483-07:00Me vs. The Internet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4O1KznjsefT7qOjd3z7qbJsoe24_GpKNDVMRtGHMDBi5BTjZRq9AjM8niSSET_Cyhdce3YoFvyMZKXWdWBrBBEuD9kPxo5RB6sjUVtgpoKAWl-7MLp1Q5FhhDFyiWAGuyn38n1AUncqp/s1600/internet-marketing-strategy-traffic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4O1KznjsefT7qOjd3z7qbJsoe24_GpKNDVMRtGHMDBi5BTjZRq9AjM8niSSET_Cyhdce3YoFvyMZKXWdWBrBBEuD9kPxo5RB6sjUVtgpoKAWl-7MLp1Q5FhhDFyiWAGuyn38n1AUncqp/s400/internet-marketing-strategy-traffic1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"I’d like to welcome you to the new age, an age where the world is at the beckon call of your fingertips."</b></div>
<br />
Welcome to the internet age. I realize that yes I’m only a few years late writing about this but I was feeling nostalgic one day about how excited I used to get as a kid to go to the music store whenever an album from a band I liked came out, and how because of the internet I’ll probably never get to re-live that sort of excitement (also due in part to the fact that new music is horrible… Lady Gaga or Katy Perry anyone?). It then got me thinking about how other aspects of my life and everybody else’s has changed because of it and well, that’s my excuse for writing about it now. This isn’t going to be so much of an ‘one side or another’ piece like my monogamy and marriage blogs, but just more of an observation of this new internet age we live in.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguH-oSctV8_H5ms0nrH2qqh7aOpjHiR3hGJHsyV2NSJL-D-6doCKY9dtgi4ncii7EkCrFrrIxYqYvWxYwWP0mIPcC6O_WQHAUjjU9gx9gfDkwzvTRI8uASkAe34WaLadOgqrm0LDbEDxKb/s1600/images+%252812%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguH-oSctV8_H5ms0nrH2qqh7aOpjHiR3hGJHsyV2NSJL-D-6doCKY9dtgi4ncii7EkCrFrrIxYqYvWxYwWP0mIPcC6O_WQHAUjjU9gx9gfDkwzvTRI8uASkAe34WaLadOgqrm0LDbEDxKb/s200/images+%252812%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a>I remember having a conversation with some friends a while back saying that because of the internet, unless you just want some fresh air there is absolutely no reason to ever leave your house other than to go to work. If you think about it, there are sites out there that can supply you with anything you need or want just as long as you have a credit or debit card. Places like <b>BestBuy.com</b> or <b>CircuitCity.com</b> (I couldn’t believe they still exist either) can be your stop for televisions, computers, and other electronic devices including cameras and portable music players. <b>Amazon.com</b> sells everything from books to jewelry to automotive parts, although for the life of me I can’t figure out why anyone would want to buy car parts online, as well as the aforementioned electronic devices. Not only do all three sites as well as numerous others sell recreational items like movies, music CD’s and video/computer games, but with <b>Netflix,</b> <b>iTunes</b> and <b>Stream</b>, you can stream movies straight to your computer or purchase albums and video games and download them right to your computers’ hard drive. Do you need new clothes? Visit G<b>ap.com</b>, <b>Forever21.com</b> or <b>Abercrombie.com</b>, three places you couldn’t pay me money to shop at, or even <b>HotTopic.com</b> for more novelty clothing. You can perform numerous banking tasks and even pay utility bills at your banks’ website. You can even buy groceries or even prescription medication… all over the internet. And now with smartphones and tablet computing growing more and more popular with time, all these options and more are readily available to you wherever you go. By the way if by some miracle of chance you can’t find a site that sells what you’re looking for, there’s always <b>Ebay.com</b>.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQiN1RUN-sYzwIBJNPutchvkSvy-ArJgfMm25GfDHPPtsoQvOUqvN7_K5np1f3CJlFE8lkSbTkJdO7SL8HeXMjPsNXf3_LouVDjBtnOPhcrlidpuGYNcQUnaPgkmxvWizWuSD9b5nYnJJ/s1600/14170_1294405507.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQiN1RUN-sYzwIBJNPutchvkSvy-ArJgfMm25GfDHPPtsoQvOUqvN7_K5np1f3CJlFE8lkSbTkJdO7SL8HeXMjPsNXf3_LouVDjBtnOPhcrlidpuGYNcQUnaPgkmxvWizWuSD9b5nYnJJ/s200/14170_1294405507.gif" width="200" /></a>It’s not only shopping that has been affected by the introduction of the internet. I remember the good ol’ days when if you liked someone, you would ask for their phone number. Then you would actually talk to one another using your voices to get to become better acquainted, and then after some time passed you would actually go out and get to know each other even more. But since I’m apparently an old fart (at 30 btw), that seems to all be ancient history now. Currently there are over 300 million members on the nine most popular dating sites but there are literally hundreds of these sites on the internet. As of 2010 the online dating industry was worth $4 billion worldwide. Looking for romance isn’t the only thing directly affected by the net, even the way we communicate with one another has now been ‘upgraded.’<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECPUcY19ctCmvXfTuuj7zOmP4UIqBj3rGI7C0NoLx2gawlUnw15ix6GdSF0-63LEn6MOCg3lKFoxHrCIGMl5j2-eI4nBf2tQw-baXMPif3E8LydFDFXgaDzItmSuuC3FjtrnkGZUN7or2/s1600/facebook2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECPUcY19ctCmvXfTuuj7zOmP4UIqBj3rGI7C0NoLx2gawlUnw15ix6GdSF0-63LEn6MOCg3lKFoxHrCIGMl5j2-eI4nBf2tQw-baXMPif3E8LydFDFXgaDzItmSuuC3FjtrnkGZUN7or2/s200/facebook2.jpg" width="200" /></a>We now live during a time where <b>Facebook</b> is dominating the social networking medium with now over 750 million users. This along with texting, which is basically the same concept as email but for phones, is essentially all that is required for staying in touch with people. I just read a story (a true story mind you) about a woman that lived out all the stages of a relationship she had with a guy via text messaging including flirtatious banter to confusion to bitterness at the sight of his name. I’ve even met two girls recently that both want to communicate with me through texting only and I’m sure they won’t be the last. I recently joined Facebook a few months ago and I find it interesting how easily accessible I am to all my friends at any given time and vice-versa. Think about it, through your phone you have the opportunity to communicate with everyone on your friends list whenever you want through messaging in Facebook. When I want to say something to a friend, I sometimes can’t decide whether to text them or send it through Facebook, since they’ll get it and respond through their phone anyway.<br />
<br />
There’s no question that the introduction and popularity of the internet has made the tasks of our lives much easier, but what kind of price are we paying for this convenience? Did you know that the actions you make on the internet are being monitored and recorded? Let me introduce you to what’s known as data mining. Data mining is the act of having your personal data researched and stored for literally anyone to purchase. People looking to purchase your data can include anyone from companies trying to decide who to sell their product to, to employers looking to spy on the people they have working for them. The information gathered from individuals includes but is not limited to credit card purchases, income levels, pictures of your front door or even status updates you put on Facebook. There are hundreds of sites out there like <b><a href="http://spokeo.com/">Spokeo.com</a></b>, which has profiles of EVERYONE that uses the internet, detailing all the information I listed above. And while you may want to think having your private information being sold off to random companies is unbelievable or wrong, the scary fact is it’s all completely legal. Data mining is a multi-billion dollar industry. So how exactly is our information being obtained? Everything from the apps we use on our phones to the websites we visit is used to gather data on us.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1_azXn6-HhTc5bqI3hyphenhyphenWDMzqf_lAh39dSyKSEeKXDzLzIDiGhvcYOvYLxiX79oscY_uw2EiabtMUiiU8RhaCQo8pbh1uzgcrzTSISmITEwwXoFAZQw5KO2BcS50A8cQMCeBAEMJEC-qT/s1600/aol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1_azXn6-HhTc5bqI3hyphenhyphenWDMzqf_lAh39dSyKSEeKXDzLzIDiGhvcYOvYLxiX79oscY_uw2EiabtMUiiU8RhaCQo8pbh1uzgcrzTSISmITEwwXoFAZQw5KO2BcS50A8cQMCeBAEMJEC-qT/s200/aol.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
So let me say it again folks, welcome to the internet age. There is no denying that the internet has completely changed the way we as a society live our lives, and seeing as how I was one of the first people on <b>America Online</b> way back in 1995 I’ll always find it a little intriguing how the internet blew up in popularity throughout the years. At the end of 2000 there were an estimated 360 million people on the internet. As of April 2011 that number has grown to over 2 billion, which is roughly 30% of the worlds’ population. Of course like everything else it has its downside. Because of how fast information is shared, it’s often stated that once something makes its way onto the net it’s there to stay permanently for anyone to witness, which is often the case with embarrassing pictures and videos. The bottom line is this; the internet is here to stay and will only evolve and grow more popular in the future. The question is what exactly will it evolve to, what how much more will it change the world? <i>"1223"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>by Andre Harry</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-70265034261878441232011-06-25T00:17:00.000-07:002011-06-25T00:17:54.107-07:00Ascension<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1lI9b1CY85w_oMDgWrbEv4o45jqdyJn3i9ncOXT-1o2a_qSWqYRHIKylhL6HM2dJuIWPNJkjaGyKwbnJEPZEkuoA0l8KU-Lk7CnWOkvCGYiEfaC4l9jXwDKIrutd3JLu2S1zkC2SNxVY/s1600/123456.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1lI9b1CY85w_oMDgWrbEv4o45jqdyJn3i9ncOXT-1o2a_qSWqYRHIKylhL6HM2dJuIWPNJkjaGyKwbnJEPZEkuoA0l8KU-Lk7CnWOkvCGYiEfaC4l9jXwDKIrutd3JLu2S1zkC2SNxVY/s1600/123456.bmp" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
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<br />
Warm white rays<br />
Descend from the sky<br />
Flickers of gold light<br />
Sparkle like fireflies<br />
<br />
Love and warmth<br />
Overcomes all pain <br />
Relieving him of <br />
His emotional strain<br />
<br />
The Angels are calling<br />
They're singing his name<br />
Enticing their son<br />
To come home again<br />
<br />
Glancing back<br />
As he ascends<br />
There's no regrets<br />
He's free from sin<br />
<br />
Though we are very sad<br />
That you had to go<br />
Knowing you're suffering is over <br />
Cleanses our souls<br />
<br />
For someday<br />
We shall meet again<br />
At the gates to heaven<br />
As our souls ascend <br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><em>by Phillip Michael</em></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-26446863613424133952011-06-15T21:36:00.000-07:002011-06-15T21:36:00.372-07:00Hugs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kBWmuEDVxqnfWpGkEf93weoUUAcxPQv2ZDDgNMxV12xNN_hFSltgj4SJgA1wKVdtg4J0u2PEQ1k8pEdtYOwP3X-uxIbZCoZzyO99nNyThiCEdYa7FPIFF1mlQ9j9f6H46aeX49-3wLBT/s1600/hugging_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kBWmuEDVxqnfWpGkEf93weoUUAcxPQv2ZDDgNMxV12xNN_hFSltgj4SJgA1wKVdtg4J0u2PEQ1k8pEdtYOwP3X-uxIbZCoZzyO99nNyThiCEdYa7FPIFF1mlQ9j9f6H46aeX49-3wLBT/s400/hugging_2.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Sprinkle of rain </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">In the night</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I’m not letting you go </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tonight</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The tighter I squeeze</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stronger the heat </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Of the energy flowing </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Deep inside of me</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Before I let go</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want you to know</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">That I’ll cherish our hugs</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wherever I go</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><em>by Phillip Michael</em></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-54005324753078017702011-06-15T20:32:00.000-07:002011-06-15T21:34:15.186-07:00There You Go<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICMA9hW12BM6SOZI34aopXrF3yJ_u4eHQl9R52e8fm7J3vOrmYTf00zs7Y4usCXwoTxOLdcqzSWiMTYJCLqm5JXEh8FK3PpVrt9b6hyphenhyphen2ZFGYAl7e1hGvvNtOfZyizNFAzjrIwb1YEZwjN/s1600/city-traffic-in-the-rain-1920x1080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICMA9hW12BM6SOZI34aopXrF3yJ_u4eHQl9R52e8fm7J3vOrmYTf00zs7Y4usCXwoTxOLdcqzSWiMTYJCLqm5JXEh8FK3PpVrt9b6hyphenhyphen2ZFGYAl7e1hGvvNtOfZyizNFAzjrIwb1YEZwjN/s400/city-traffic-in-the-rain-1920x1080.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">You just left</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And all I see</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Is your tail lights</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Going away from me</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">As they are glimmering through the rain</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I must have been insane</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">For letting you slip </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Through my reins</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fully knowing </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was chance of a lifetime </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It may never happen again</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><em>by Phillip Michael</em></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3221330353904308667.post-52574470893768789392011-06-14T23:15:00.000-07:002011-06-14T23:15:51.301-07:00My Horror<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbr84v_ZPB_XtNagbVzl1xZGIQYPcDXTSuMhNQjt3P1vFq5GJqW62d7EBMkdeSN2Rp8yHSMiST9TL2fdTjItijALt-fse7z6mOOCHBMRsPvdgkjAjeOYGrwRggIjr_3ziD3K_tY32RpXLM/s1600/horror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbr84v_ZPB_XtNagbVzl1xZGIQYPcDXTSuMhNQjt3P1vFq5GJqW62d7EBMkdeSN2Rp8yHSMiST9TL2fdTjItijALt-fse7z6mOOCHBMRsPvdgkjAjeOYGrwRggIjr_3ziD3K_tY32RpXLM/s320/horror.jpg" t8="true" width="259px" /></a></div><br />
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Tired beyond belief<br />
Troubled with unforgiving grief<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">D</span>azed<br />
<br />
I can’t feel myself breathe<br />
What is coming over me<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>uphoria<br />
<br />
Rain on the roof<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A</span>nd the ever so constant ringing in my ears<br />
<br />
Articulate<br />
<br />
Sometimes I think<br />
I'm ready to throw away all those years<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>ainted<br />
<br />
As my demons thrive inside of my core<br />
I'm not sure whether I can take it anymore<br />
<br />
My <span style="font-size: x-large;">H</span>orror<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><em>by Phillip Michael</em></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07476964477912407639noreply@blogger.com0