<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:45:22.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bizarro World</title><subtitle type='html'>Opening up a new chapter.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>207</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-183831317193362949</id><published>2007-12-19T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T15:57:57.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They forgot to tell me it rained up here</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, we've been having some crazy weather... as a lot of the other parts of the country have had, I know. The thing is, I come from the desert and I have yet to understand what this cold, wet stuff is falling from the sky in sheets is. Anybody have any ideas? Apparently it causes people to drive ridiculously and without any defense whatsoever... I'm going to google this phenomenon and see what I come up with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On another note... apparently the meth problem in this area of the country is out of control. I actually read the other day that legislation that banned the sale of cold and allergy medicines to just any Joe Blow without signing something (or something) has actually &lt;em&gt;increased&lt;/em&gt; the amount of meth sold/used here. Nice going. Now the Mexican mafia has a hold on yet &lt;em&gt;another&lt;/em&gt; drug market. What's up with that? Billy Joe Bob and Bubba Jean just don't have the smarts necessary to cook it up and sell it off... they end up smokin' the stash or blowing themselves up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There was a story in the paper from my neighboring community where a man, just admitted into the training program for a local police department, was practicing taking apart his gun (albeit not one issued by PD yet) and "accidentally" shot his wife in the stomach. Talk about bad timing. I'm not discounting the story or anything... but I'd say his chances of making "Model student" status are all but shot (no pun intended).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And finally, I've made my way around the city of Portland, though I've barely even scratched the surface here. There are some fantastic places, some great eateries, some cool ass stores, and some crazy bars... neither rain nor rain nor rain keeps people inside at home. I need to get used to that and stop thinking of it as "cozy, stay at home on the couch and watch a movie weather" otherwise I'm destined to be a hermit for the entire expanse of winter! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And that folks, is all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-183831317193362949?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/183831317193362949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=183831317193362949&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/183831317193362949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/183831317193362949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/12/they-forgot-to-tell-me-it-rained-up.html' title='They forgot to tell me it rained up here'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-7113272361071803740</id><published>2007-12-12T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T22:49:47.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello from the NW</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;SO, if there is anyone out there... and if they happen to think about reading this ever again... I am in Oregon and settled and loving every second of it! It's fantastic up here and can't think of a better choice I could have made! Anyway... wanted to give a shout out to the blogosphere and see if anyone shouts back. Hope all is as well as it is right here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-7113272361071803740?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/7113272361071803740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=7113272361071803740&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/7113272361071803740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/7113272361071803740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/12/hello-from-nw.html' title='Hello from the NW'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-4728210150403502383</id><published>2007-10-15T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T12:08:18.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Greener pastures</title><content type='html'>Well, for those you  still paying attention out there... I am moving. I got a job in Oregon and am moving to Portland at the end of this month!!! Persistence and dedication (to getting out of a city you don't want to be in) really pay off! I'm SO excited and a little overwhelmed, but I can't wait!! This is really going to be the beginning of something fantastic. Something I've been feeling needed to happen for a long time is finally happening... I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-4728210150403502383?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/4728210150403502383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=4728210150403502383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/4728210150403502383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/4728210150403502383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/10/greener-pastures.html' title='Greener pastures'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-5398564501074931514</id><published>2007-07-19T14:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T15:22:13.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You're so beautiful, you could be a part-time model... but you'd probably still have to keep your normal job"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you have not yet witnessed the genuis that is "Flight of the Conchords", I have to say... what the hell is wrong with you!? Honestly, one of the greatest new shows (not to mention, greatest shows period) out there! In honor of FOTC, I have gathered up some of my all time favorite quotes for your reading pleasure. Until I regain the unique brilliance that was my writings of the past (oh, come on...) I am using cheap, recycled material!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"You don't call retarded people retards. It's bad taste. You call your friends retards when they are acting retarded" -- Michael Scott, "The Office"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"A eugoogalizor, one who speaks at funerals. Or did you think I'd be too stupid to know what a eugoogoly was?" --Derek Zoolander, "Zoolander"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"You look like a cholo dressed up for Easter." --Pete, "Knocked Up"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Oh great, an abandoned psychiatric hospital! Now I can get Hepatitis!" -- Shrader, "Accepted"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(One of my favorite exchanges) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000120/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lloyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: What are the chances of a guy like you and a girl like me... ending up together? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000452/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: Well, that's pretty difficult to say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000120/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lloyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: Hit me with it! I've come a long way to see you, Mary. The least you can do is level with me. What are my chances? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000452/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: Not good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000120/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lloyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: You mean, not good like one out of a hundred? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000452/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: I'd say more like one out of a million. [pause] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000120/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lloyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;: So you're telling me there's a chance. -- "Dumb and Dumber"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life. "-- Peter Gibbons, "Office Space"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Those are just a few... there are way too many other good quotes out there and I just don't have the time (since it's almost time to get the funk outta Dodge) to think of them all. Don't worry, one of these days, when I have nothing interesting to say... I'll put some more on here. So, then... tomorrow it is!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-5398564501074931514?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/5398564501074931514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=5398564501074931514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/5398564501074931514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/5398564501074931514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/07/youre-so-beautiful-you-could-be-part.html' title='&quot;You&apos;re so beautiful, you could be a part-time model... but you&apos;d probably still have to keep your normal job&quot;'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-5975632597669780004</id><published>2007-07-18T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T14:07:23.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's your 20?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have been on hiatus... and no guarantee that I'm back for good, but it was funny going back and reading my blog after all these years. The boredom set in so I decided I'd recall fond memories of the blogging community. I did notice that much of my posts began with "I went to this party last night..." or "I went out drinking..." Ahhh... to be young again;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird to be writing on here again. I feel like the cleverness I used to possess and was so inspired by my fellow bloggers is no longer present! And now, I shall give a short life update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm doing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Still working at the same place... it's going well and taking me to Ft. Lauderdale next week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Currently in the process of watching 6 Feet Under, as I never watched it during it's run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Just started dating a good prospect... that's all I'll say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Still seeing as many movies as possible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Reading lots o' books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lots of other stuff that's cool and impressive;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm wearing:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Currently, I'm wearing about 2 sizes smaller than I was 6 months ago! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My hair is super dark and I'm wearing it mid-length with an undercut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Braces... STILL... and now I get to look even more like a 14 year old girl because I have rubber bands!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm saying:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Apparently, I like to say "apparently" alot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I cannot stop saying "no worries"... what am I, Australian?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Holla! I know... just shoot me now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(This may not count, because I only said it once) Boo ya. Yes. I said that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where I'm living:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Still in good 'ol El Paso... hoping that changes sometime in the near future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Living in some swanky digs (i.e. some new apartments that are way to expensive for this city) with my longtime best friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Planet Earth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What else is happening:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;All of my friends are off in other cities and I'm left here solo to dwell on life's little shit bombs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've started writing a book and have some fantastic ideas that are flowing like red, hot, molten lava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm starting to freelance writing and graphic design&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've become a "Competent Communicator"... nuff said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have finally become a woman (made you reread that, didn't I?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And that, my friends, is all she wrote. Boo ya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-5975632597669780004?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/5975632597669780004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=5975632597669780004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/5975632597669780004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/5975632597669780004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/07/whats-your-20.html' title='What&apos;s your 20?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-3257386136367978828</id><published>2007-05-04T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T07:48:41.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fast is over!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have never been so happy in my life. Why? List of reasons (small as they may be!):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a) It's Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;b) It's casual Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;c) It's casual Friday where I get off early&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;d) It's casual Friday where I get off early to go to happy hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e) It's casual Friday where I get off early to go to happy hour because THE FAST IS OVER!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Damn it feels good to be a gansta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-3257386136367978828?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/3257386136367978828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=3257386136367978828&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/3257386136367978828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/3257386136367978828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/05/fast-is-over.html' title='Fast is over!!'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-6848510269162673548</id><published>2007-04-30T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T13:34:56.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fast is Slow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I've been committed to the idea of becoming super healthy and fit (in the quickest amount of time possible) and the first step on that road was the &lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.annlouise.com/alg_ftoverview.asp"&gt;Fast Track One-Day Detox Diet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;. Contrary to what the title actually says, it is NOT one day. It is actually an 11 day plan filled with organic things and weird spices I've never heard of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You should have seen us at the grocery store. We (my roommate and I) looked like a couple of idiots searching for daikon radish sprouts and asking people how you choose a "good looking" bok choy. I still don't know. I'm actually on day 8 and going strong. The thing is...it's a TON of cooking and preparation and baking and all kinds of crap that I'm really not used to. I have just about had it with the cooking of the weird foods (i.e. Omega-3 spread which includes blended sardines with bones...ick!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, as I mentioned, I'm on day 8...Fast Day. My question is, why call it a fast? It goes by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;so damn slow!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I'm alternating 8 oz of water and 8 oz of "miracle juice" every hour. Fun stuff. I think when I get home I'm going to knock myself out so that the thoughts of Friday (when the diet is officially over) happy hour/chips and salsa don't overtake me. Yeah, I know I said I was "committed to the idea of becoming super healthy and fit" but salsa has lots of vegetables and my beer will definitely have a lime in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-6848510269162673548?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/6848510269162673548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=6848510269162673548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/6848510269162673548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/6848510269162673548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/04/fast-is-slow.html' title='Fast is Slow'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-864735052950833406</id><published>2007-04-19T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T12:20:09.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is anybody out there?</title><content type='html'>It has been waaaaaay too long since I've posted anything on here. I don't know if anyone is still out there, but this is a "check 1-2" to the blogosphere. As for having anything to say, I don't but I'm thinking I will one of these days. When I do, I wanna have the luxury of this blog to force my opinions upon the world;)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-864735052950833406?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/864735052950833406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=864735052950833406&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/864735052950833406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/864735052950833406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2007/04/is-anybody-out-there.html' title='Is anybody out there?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-115497003902736195</id><published>2006-08-07T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T10:18:01.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Windy City</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Ditkacrop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/Ditkacrop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was going to post this last week...but then the floods came and that took precedence. You'll be happy to know that we have (somewhat) dried up a bit and are now working towards rebuilding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I had my trip to Chicago and I just have to say that it was probably one of the best trips ever...and yes it was even work related! I met the coolest people and we basically did it up right in Chi-Town. We left no stone unturned and no bed slept in. I met Ditka (got a photo with him and told him I loved him in "Kicking and Screaming" to which he got a good laugh and replied "Now THAT'S funny!"), hit almost every bar downtown (or so it felt like), ate great food, had too many laughs and too much to drink, and somewhere in there I managed to attend some of the presentations that were work related...only to look around at the others involved in the previous night's shenanigans and laugh at how miserable we all looked). Cruised the lake in a 3 story yacht, survived a tornado watch, and went underground to hear reggae in a bar where you had to cut through the band to get to the bathroom. That's the short version...the long version would probably take up WAY too much space and you'd stop reading either because the length would scare you, or the content:) I'll post some photos for your viewing pleasure though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Billy%20Goat%20Cheezborger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/Billy%20Goat%20Cheezborger.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember that skit from SNL? That's in the&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;basement of our National office and it's all &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;true&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No fries...chips!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Classic%20sax%20on%20the%20street%20pic.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/Classic%20sax%20on%20the%20street%20pic.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Classic%20sax%20on%20the%20street%20pic.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wouldn't be Chicago without this guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Classic%20sax%20on%20the%20street%20pic.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason...mid-post...it stopped letting me put pictures on here. I even tried a new post and did it that way. It didn't work. I'll try to put some more on here later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Classic%20sax%20on%20the%20street%20pic.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-115497003902736195?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/115497003902736195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=115497003902736195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115497003902736195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115497003902736195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/08/windy-city.html' title='The Windy City'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-115463224019627221</id><published>2006-08-03T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T12:10:59.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos from the flood</title><content type='html'>Thought I'd post some photos so you could see the damage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/img00002.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/img00002.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Streets were just collapsing because of the water getting underneath and moving the dirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/20060731__0801-A1-Weather~4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/20060731__0801-A1-Weather%7E4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cars trapped in the deep water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/20060801__0802-a1-canoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/20060801__0802-a1-canoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two men set out to rescue people from the water&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/20060801__0802-a1-rio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/20060801__0802-a1-rio.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Rio Grande reached dangerously high levels&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/9612352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/9612352.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A young woman was pulled out of her truck just before it took a nosedive into &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;the arroyo next to the street&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/9613052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/9613052.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A woman was being carried away by the rapids...luckily she was rescued.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-115463224019627221?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/115463224019627221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=115463224019627221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115463224019627221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115463224019627221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/08/photos-from-flood.html' title='Photos from the flood'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-115453431032030750</id><published>2006-08-02T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T08:58:30.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Storm of the century</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What started out as a much coveted rainy day in the city turned into a much detested torrential downpour. I was on my way to work, like any other normal day, except that the traffic was a bit heavier due to the thunderstorms that began in the wee hours of the morning. I arrived at work late, but understandably so because any water on the roads is cause for panic by the water-retarded El Pasoans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The day began routinely, but as I sauntered into the employee lounge to get my caffeine fix, I noticed the news reports. The rain we so desperately needed kept coming and coming and coming. There was no end in sight, which is rare as usually we get rain for about 20 minutes maximum and then it disappears. This was not the case. On the news I saw areas flooding...areas that looked extremely familiar. The majority of the rains and the damages were being reported on the westside of town...quite near my house.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There was no way to get home in my car. The freeway was closing as it was flooding rapidly, the side streets were flooded over. My boss came in at 9:45 am and said "Get outta here while you can." I caught a ride with my assistant's mom in her big suburban and we barely made it. It took us 2 hours when it normally takes 15 minutes. We had to drive through flooded areas of the freeway that were so deep, the water was almost right up to the windows. Thankfully we made it before it got worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I saw the streets being ripped apart, people wading in water up to their waists, cars being swept down into arroyos, mudslides near my friends and relatives, dumpsters and barbecue grills being swept down the streets.  The 6 month old Blockbuster video being broken down, flooded through, and its contents running into people's backyards. The Sun Harvest had produce, sodas, and other grocery items flowing out its doors and down the street. People being rescued from their cars before the raging floods swept them away. The river overflowing, arroyos breaking, the levee collapsing. People being evacuated from their homes. Something the likes of which I have never witnessed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This city is not prepared for conditions such as this. We barely have rain. We don't have the drainage necessary and we certainly don't have the resources available for the "natural disaster"esque situation. No, it was no Hurricane Katrina. As far as I know, there were no fatalities. There was a huge amount of damage though, and to a city like this...it might as well have been a hurricane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There has not been a storm like this in over 100 years. Amazing. I guess it's such a big deal because we've always felt like the invincible city. No hurricane, tornado, cyclone, typhoon, tsunami, or any other such thing could ever get us. But alas, the rain...it came, it saw, it kicked our asses.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now we are in a state of emergency. How totally insane; yet, it just goes to show that anything can happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-115453431032030750?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/115453431032030750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=115453431032030750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115453431032030750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115453431032030750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/08/storm-of-century.html' title='Storm of the century'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-115377102242426864</id><published>2006-07-24T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T12:57:02.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How 'bout a nice, cool glass of shut the hell up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Ooh, let's go to that new store...you know the one that has all those neat things? Oh wait, but I want to go to the mall too. Have you seen that store with all the nifty little trinkets? Where do you want to eat. I heard that new place near downtown is cool. Should we eat first? Do you want to go see a movie? Would rather eat first or see the movie...or go to the mall? Or should we just skip the mall? Or maybe the movie? No, I want to see the movie...should we eat first though? If we eat first then we'll be too full for popcorn. But if we go to the movie first, we'll get full on popcorn and then won't want to eat...and I really want to go to that new restaurant."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;OH. MY. DEAR. LORD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don't care what we do as long as we find something to keep your mouth busy for a lengthy period of time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's not that this visitor isn't nice or whatever, but for the love of pete I just wanted her to shut up for 5 minutes. Not even a word in edgewise. I couldn't even answer her questions. When she finally stopped and I said nothing because I didn't know that it was my cue to speak she says "Well?" Uhhh...well what!? I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be giving an answer to anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A fresh of breath air. No, that's not a typo...it's another chapter from the weekend that was the bane of my existence. Short Fat Matthew Lillard was all up in my bubble. Without permission, of course. And for the love of everything that is holy, he needed a tin of Altoids. A whole one. Smelled like he ate a can of dog farts. Note to you out there (and this is pretty much common knowledge)...if someone offers a breath mint, for god sakes TAKE IT! It's a hint, not a gesture of niceness.  Short fat Matthew Lillard was not nearly as charming as I imagine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000498/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;The Real Matthew Lillard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;to be&lt;/span&gt; (even if he is a bit of a goof...he's a cute one). And all he could say was that he and I would be "BFF" and he just wanted to come over so he could "cuddle".  I threw up in my mouth a little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sloppy and drunk go hand in hand...but when does it reach the "you should probably want to kill yourself now" stage? I'll tell you. When a lush "acquaintance" goes out Thursday night...doesn't sleep AT ALL...meets you for lunch wearing the same thing she wore the night before...first thing she orders is a vodka soda...proceeds to tell you and the entire table of 10 that she just had butt sex (still hasn't showered, brushed her hair or teeth)...proceeds to go to the bar with others (who have showered and slept and aren't hungover)...gets in a screaming match with a guy because he thinks she's trash (uhh...ya think?)...then invites herself over to my friends house to continue drinking (still unshowered...gag)...and keeps everyone up with her endless yapping and "I know everything about everything, let me tell you how to live your life" (yeah, i'll take your advice) until sunrise &lt;em&gt;the next morning&lt;/em&gt;. So let's see, that's 48 hours without sleep, changing your underwear and clothes, without water touching your body, mouth, or anything else.  You think it's time for a serious trip to AA? Intervention time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On a final note...it's 95 degrees, humid, and our AC is out at work. I'm exhausted because I couldn't sleep last night. I'm going to Chicago tomorrow and have no suitcase and don't know what to take. And now ends the bitchfest:)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-115377102242426864?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/115377102242426864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=115377102242426864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115377102242426864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115377102242426864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-bout-nice-cool-glass-of-shut-hell.html' title='How &apos;bout a nice, cool glass of shut the hell up'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-115212711365874772</id><published>2006-07-05T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T12:18:33.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of *yawn* July</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As much as I like having holidays off, I'd kinda rather prefer to have the day &lt;em&gt;after&lt;/em&gt; the holiday off. I mean, yes you want to bbq and all that good stuff w/friends and fam...but you have to be good and go home and to sleep early, or else be miserable the next day because you're so tired from "celebrating". Such is with the 4th. Now mind you, my 4th of July was rather uneventful but Im just looking out for the rest of you guys;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I think I have an addiction problem. I am addicted to holing myself up at my/my friend's house and watching hour after hour of series on DVD. First it was Sex and the City, then it was Sopranos, then Gilmore Girls (I know...I didn't even think I'd like it!), now it's Entourage. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;get so enthralled that I don't care what time it is or how much time I've wasted...it's like this need to find out what happens in the next episode. I love Entourage, even though it's probably more of a "guy's" show...I can't help it. I finished off the second season last night and what happens is that I can't stand waiting to watch the episodes like normal people who watch it once a week. I get too antsy? Is this some kind of sickness? Or do I just have no life and the only thing of interest in my life happens on the TV shows I watch? Lame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Still liking the jobby job. Lots of craziness and being super busy, but still good nonetheless. I think I'm getting a raise too!! That's what I was told by a few people, although I don't know how much and I'm not sure if they have to wait for my 6 month review(?) Either way, that's pretty cool. I'll be off to Chicago in a couple of weeks and then after that, only one month until the 6 month review...so it's not that far off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hope things are all good in bloggerland...until we meet again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-115212711365874772?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/115212711365874772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=115212711365874772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115212711365874772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/115212711365874772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/07/4th-of-yawn-july_05.html' title='4th of *yawn* July'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114917416124008248</id><published>2006-06-01T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T08:02:41.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Into open arms...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thanks guys and gals...for making me feel right back at home in bloggerland:) I never had a doubt! It's good to hear (or see) some familiar names here, just like old friends! I should be working right now (story of a blogger's life huh?) but I can't seem to focus on anything right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I need to be schmoozing with local politicians and getting ready to help with some campaigning. I should also be working on our website, creating a new ad for next week, putting together a media package, getting our newsletter ready, sending out a press release, and coming up with talking points for a big local "issue" that has arisen in our city. As you can see, my job is quite the smorgasbord of activities. Always busy, don't have a chance to be bored or blog or do anything else we're supposed to have time to do at work! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;No, I don't work "in" politics per se, but am involved in them quite heavily in my position at the organization where I work. I stepped into an entirely new arena in my career. Yes, I'm still doing the creative and advertising stuff, but I'm also in charge of governmental affairs. Never knew I'd like doing anything involving politics but I guess we learn something new about ourselves all the time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I just needed to goof off for a little while and let the whirlwind in my head clear out and put all those things into "thought files" for now. Then I can take them out one by one and bust it all out. Oh yeah....and did I tell you I have an ASSistant now!?! Sweet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114917416124008248?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114917416124008248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114917416124008248&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114917416124008248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114917416124008248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/06/into-open-arms.html' title='Into open arms...'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114904964785988164</id><published>2006-05-30T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T21:27:27.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How time flies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Wow, it has been so long...so long in fact that I'm sure no one is even going to see this because by now people have definitely stopped checking in:)! What to even say, feels weird even writing on my blog now. I was so "addicted" for so long and then BAM! So here I am after all this time with I don't know how much to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My job is awesome...I love it. My boss who was super cool left and we've since hired someone new. He's very laid back and really knows his stuff, which is good. Plus, he was talking about giving people more money, so that's always a bonus. We're still in the transition period because he has to finish up his old job and get moved here. Being without a boss after only having been there a month was a little rough at first, because you're still learning and then all of a sudden the person you were learning from leaves. But I managed to basically make it on my own which has worked out. Lots of red tape where I work, but I still really love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The rest of my life hasn't changed too much. No new men in the picture, but that's to be expected with the city I live in. There's just no men. Actually, I'm having fun being single and just hanging out with my friends while I can. I don't have any problems with it, because who knows how long I'll get to do it. I'm probably having more fun than I've had in a long time. A good friend moved back into town and he is probably the funniest person I've ever met, so I like to hang out with him and give him crap. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Other than that, no big news in my life. Same 'ol same 'ol with a few twists and turns. I get to go to Chicago at the end of July for work, which should be cool. Then I'm really going to ACL this year...I swear I am. Get to go to New Orleans too. It's sad though, because I never went before Katrina and I know it will never be the same as it was. Sucks to not have been able to experience it pre-hurricane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hope all you little kiddies in bloggerland are being good and doing well. Catch you all later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114904964785988164?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114904964785988164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114904964785988164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114904964785988164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114904964785988164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/05/how-time-flies.html' title='How time flies'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114307977717254248</id><published>2006-03-22T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T19:09:37.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy crap in a bucket</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I haven't written anything in quite awhile and I figured while I had 2 seconds free I'd post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Let's just say that my new job is AWESOME! It's kicking my ass all over the place, but is everything I wanted! Just goes to show that things do happen for a reason. I've got more things to do in a day so that even if I wanted to blog at work there'd be no way I'd have time. It is totally amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I managed to get in a trip to Portland (I had it planned before I started and they were cool with it) and that was so much fun! What a beautiful city. I had never been there before and the amount of green there is unbelievable. Of course, I live in the desert so any green is a lot;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Went to Multnomah Falls and it was just breathtaking. If you've never been, I highly recommend it. So my plan is to get in my time with this job and really know my stuff so that I can move to Portland and people will be begging me to work for them;)!! That's the hope anyway:) Did you know you're not allowed to pump your own gas in Oregon? Weird, another reason I really need to live there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friend has a 4600 sq ft house in a beautiful area so I'm thinking that I could definitely do that! We went to all kinds of cool and crazy places downtown and St. Patty's Day was a madhouse. Needless to say I ended up with my face very close to a toilet on that trip (at the house though, not in public!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, that's what has been going on in my life lately. Nothing and everything it seems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Catch ya later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114307977717254248?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114307977717254248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114307977717254248&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114307977717254248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114307977717254248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/03/holy-crap-in-bucket_22.html' title='Holy crap in a bucket'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114118972862830572</id><published>2006-02-28T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T22:08:48.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When it rains it pours</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I got a job. Yeah, I know I already said that...&lt;em&gt;but I got another job&lt;/em&gt;. A better one! The one I really, really wanted!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I hadn't heard from her when I took the first one and then she called and wanted me to meet w/her on Friday. She offered me the job today. It's better pay, better benefits, and a better job altogether!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm totally stoked, but it's a little scary too. A lot of responsibility and exposure but I'm SO up for the challenge!! YAHOO! SO I start on Monday and have to tell this other place "too bad, so sad." It sucks to have to do that, but I have to do what's right for me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now&lt;/em&gt; my plan has really begun to come together!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114118972862830572?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114118972862830572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114118972862830572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114118972862830572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114118972862830572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When it rains it pours'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114059049170825344</id><published>2006-02-21T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T23:41:31.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take this job and.....take it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So kiddies, I think the curse is broken. Yahoo! Yahoo fer me! What's all this "yahooing" about? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I GOT MYSELF A JOBBY JOB!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That's right, my plan is working so far. I have yet to jinx myself. Well, I won't go into too much detail right now but it seems pretty cool, pay is decent, like the peeps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As of next Wednesday, I's be employed (for real)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114059049170825344?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114059049170825344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114059049170825344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114059049170825344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114059049170825344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/02/take-this-job-andtake-it.html' title='Take this job and.....take it'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-114021231361950598</id><published>2006-02-17T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T14:48:44.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little update...and enjoy my new music:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Things are going ok over here...I making my way through all of this. I'm keeping my head up and my plan is moving forward as I hoped. As soon as everything works itself out I can explain, but I've become too superstitious of the jinx;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I did some damage to my eardrum on Valentine's Day...although I have to say I probably had the best Valentine's Day...well ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Despite being slightly molested by a tall, gangly fellow who insisted on buying us drinks and then took the acceptance of said drinks as an open invitation to grab me from behind, drape his arms around me and kiss me. It was certainly not invited and not wanted, but I let him know in the not so friendliest fashion that doing something like that could really get him hurt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I proceeded to thoroughly enjoy the rest of my night. We went to watch a band play (myself and a bunch of friends) and I ended up right in front near the speaker (because the singer was totally cute of course) and my ear is, as of right now, still ringing. That's when you know you're old....the music was probably too loud from my old eardrum;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the rest of the evening laughing till our faces and our stomachs hurt. I don't think I've laughed that hard in ages, I really needed it. It was a blast. Is it ironic that the best Valentine's I've ever had was as a singleton? Nah...I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO I hope everyone is doing well...I may have visited your sites lately but I haven't really been commenting at all. Just wanting to keep up slightly with all of you and hope things are good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh, and check &lt;a href="http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/280260"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; out....ridiculous!(click on "watch this movie")&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-114021231361950598?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/114021231361950598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=114021231361950598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114021231361950598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/114021231361950598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/02/just-little-updateand-enjoy-my-new.html' title='Just a little update...and enjoy my new music:)'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113915780610819862</id><published>2006-02-05T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T09:43:26.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Outlook good</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thanks to everyone for all of your support throughout this difficult time, I know I keep saying it, but I just want to make sure you all know how much it means.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I think that I've come out of this whole thing with a new outlook on life. I just mean that my life is right now. It's not in 6 months or in a couple of years. I've found that for the past year or so my life has been a series of "waiting rooms". I have constantly been waiting for something to happen and if I'm ever going to have a life of my own, I need to take some action. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I still have my moments of sadness where I feel like I just don't want to do anything, but those are few. I know how proud my mother is of me and I want to keep her proud. I have a plan and I have implemented a part of it so far. I don't want to give away details because it seems like when I speak of things, I jinx myself, so I'm going to keep this under wraps until it happens. Let's just say that if I shook a magic 8 ball it would say "Outlook Good."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113915780610819862?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113915780610819862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113915780610819862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113915780610819862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113915780610819862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/02/outlook-good.html' title='Outlook good'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113829117012910861</id><published>2006-01-26T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T08:59:30.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, my mother passed away yesterday afternoon. I know she is in peace now and has no more pain, which is comforting but I can't even describe what this is like. That's all I can really say right now, but wanted to thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. Friends have really helped me get through this and I do consider you all friends. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113829117012910861?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113829117012910861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113829117012910861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113829117012910861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113829117012910861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/01/well-my-mother-passed-away-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113803794832749237</id><published>2006-01-23T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T10:39:08.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nearing the end</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, they've taken my mom off of every medication except morphine. They're giving her as much of that as she can handle I think. I don't know how much morphine is ALOT of morphine, but she's getting about 20 mg/hr. When she first went into the hospital, I think they were giving her 4? I know she's getting alot, which is good because the goal is to make her comfortable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Of course, we don't know how much time she has left...but I'm guessing it's only a matter of days. It's just so hard to watch it happen when I know how she wouldn't want people to see her like this. She was always made up, with her hair all cute and a cute little outfit. I know she wouldn't want people seeing her like this. It's so frustrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As for me, it's really hard to go about my life when all of this is happening. I have no choice really. I mean, I have an interview tomorrow and I have dental appointments and it all feels so insignificant. I'm sure that's how most people feel during a time like this, but it's so surreal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm just completely in limbo right now. I feel blessed that I had all the time to spend with my mother after I lost my job. But now, I'm up shit creek without a paddle because unemployment is gone and my current waiting job can't cut it alone. I'm looking harder than ever, but at the same time...how much motivation can I feel when all this is going on? Rock...hard place...me in the middle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know I'll get through this and things will turn out ok....but it's so hard to see all the way to that point from where I am right now. Thanks to everyone again for caring so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113803794832749237?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113803794832749237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113803794832749237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113803794832749237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113803794832749237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/01/nearing-end.html' title='Nearing the end'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113738871565475960</id><published>2006-01-15T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-15T22:18:35.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not getting any better</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, things are not getting any better....as a matter of fact they seem much more bleak now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've come to terms with the inevitable. I mean, of course I will be devastated when it happens, but I know it's going to and she will no longer be in pain. That's what's killing me. Just sitting there day after day watching her moan in pain...even in her sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's too hard on my dad too....DB said in my comments on the previous post that you find yourself wishing it would just be over for your own sake as well as theirs. It's true, and I never thought I'd feel that way. I mean, she's mom...mom's are invincible right? We always think that way until something like this jabs us in the kidneys and wakes us up to real life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I guess one of the biggest things is that she's not going to be around for my wedding or to see my kids. All of my siblings are (or have been married) and have children. The grandkids have gotten to know her and it's just sad that mine won't ever get to know what a wonderful grammy she is. Yes, I know that I can keep her spirit alive for them but it's still so sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I don't really know how much time she has left but I don't think there's much. In the meantime, I'm just sitting at the hospital picturing her as I've always known her and letting her know that I'm there and how much I love her. It really is just.....I don't even know the right word to use here....rough? unbearable? torture? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thank you all for your very kind words and thoughts and prayers. It means the world to me. I'm not the most vocal person all the time, so this is the place where all of this comes out. Alot of this stuff I haven't even said out loud to anyone, so it feels good to get it out and know that there are actual real people on the other end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'll keep ya posted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113738871565475960?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113738871565475960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113738871565475960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113738871565475960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113738871565475960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/01/not-getting-any-better.html' title='Not getting any better'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113678470375043194</id><published>2006-01-08T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T22:31:43.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hospitiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I hate the fucking hospital. I'm tired of it. Although I'm sure my mom is much more tired and even saying I'm sick of it makes me feel like an ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We have been on an emotional roller coaster for the past week. Last Sunday my mom was just about on her last breath. The nurses and doctors said that it could be a matter of hours. My aunt came in town, my sister came in town, my brother and sister-in-law came in town. We camped out in the room. Her blood pressure was extremely low. Her blood-oxygen level was WAY below normal. She had so much congestion in her chest that she could hardly breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This all came about because on Saturday night she climbed over the bed railing and fell on the floor. She's NOT allowed out of bed but has been completely obsessed with going to the bathroom. SO, when she falls out of bed three nurses came to put her back in. She was NOT happy and completely FREAKED. She screamed for 7 hours. They had to sedate her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We thought it was the end and that she had given up. My aunt was telling us we needed to tell her it was ok to let go and say our goodbyes. There was alot of turmoil.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;But then on Monday, my mom came out of it. Although she was on so many painkillers that she was hallucinating, her vitals were better. But then she started talking about how the nurses tried to kill her and asked every one of us how we could let them do that to her. Every new person that came in the room got the story and retelling of the story resulted in hysterics. This story was told about 4 times a day. It was extremely heartbreaking and wearing on the soul. But she started fighting...and eating again. She would wake up and make us laugh or ask if we were in the mall or what store we were in. How we pulled off getting her to the movies...her perception and reality were not there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The doctor was hopeful and said if we could get her eating she might get to come home. We got her out of the bed and she sat in a chair for a few hours on Thursday night. Then Friday it was bad again. Backsliding. One step forward, two steps back. Crying all the time, vitals weren't great, wouldn't eat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As of today, she was doing so-so. Ate a bit but pretty much cried all day long. Just sobbing. I don't know how people do this, I'm not cut out for this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And all the while I'm thinking how I need to get out of there, I've got cabin fever. I need a break. And then I'm feeling like an asshole because at least I have a choice. She doesn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you ask anyone that knows me, I'm one of the least selfish people you'd meet but I'll be damned if I don't feel like a fucking selfish bitch lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Why? Well, because she's not my mom. She's not the person that I've known all my life. She's a shell of a woman trapped in a pain wracked body. She's miserable, she has osteoporosis to a terrible degree, doesn't know what's going on. My sister (who lives in Phoenix and is really wonderful) just keeps saying we need to get her home. I think she's right, but then I think "Easy for you to say, you live in Phoenix. You're not the one who has to sit here and watch her deteriorate day in and day out. You're not the one who will have to feed her, bathe her, and change her." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now what kind of fucked up person thinks like that? I mean, of course I will do anything in the world for my mother. I love her and she is the greatest woman in the world. She would do it for me. I just wish everyone else would stop for a second and think about not only how hard it will be for my mom, but for my dad and I as well. The more I write, the more fucked up I feel about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Like I said, I'm not cut out for this. I'm more of the "avoidance" type person. I don't deal with emotions well. I don't cry in front of people if I can help it. I can't stand to see people in pain. I hate to see my mother miserable in a hospital bed, stuck there with nurses she fears (even though my dad was there that night and knows they didn't hurt her) and the constant reminder that she might die. Which she keeps asking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I would love to have her home with us. I mean, if/when she dies, I want her to be home because that's what she'd want. I just pray to God that I have the strength to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113678470375043194?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113678470375043194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113678470375043194&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113678470375043194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113678470375043194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2006/01/hospitiful.html' title='Hospitiful'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113590530959954700</id><published>2005-12-29T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T18:16:09.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhaustion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. I've been out of commission for awhile, lots of stuff going on right now. The biggest thing of note though, is my mother. She's not doing too well and has been in the hospital for about a week and a half now. So she was there for Christmas, which is hard because she is one of those "Christmas people". You know, the ones that LOVE LOVE LOVE Christmas and it's a huge deal. She spent it in a hospital which sucks. She cracked her sternum a few weeks ago because her bones are so brittle from the chemo. She's been in massive pain and can't really move and so the doctor said to put her in the hospital. She's getting morphine for the pain, to manage it somewhat, but she's been having some pretty bad days. We're just all praying that it can heal and she can get out of there. Today was a good day though, so that's hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to be the cooker of the meal on Christmas, and let me tell you I was nervous. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) I don't really cook&lt;br /&gt;b) I've NEVER cooked a meal that big, or a turkey for that matter&lt;br /&gt;c) I was cooking for about 17 people and so there was a lot of pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to say that it turned out fabulous....despite the fact that my parents couldn't be there (my father has spent 24/7 in the hospital with my mom...bless his heart. Only comes home to shower.) I got tons of praise for having made "The best turkey they've ever had". I have to say, it was the best I've ever had too...so I don't think they were just saying it to be nice:) I haven't gotten much rest though between family and friends in town, visiting my mom, working like a slave, housesitting for a friend, and all the rest of the fun holiday stuff. I'm physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted...but I'll survive. We all manage to do it and then recuperate:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hope everyone is doing well and that you all have a super Happy New Year! Don't think mine will be too thrilling since all my friends will be gone by then, including the ones who live here going on vacation. New Year's is overrated though;) Well, talk to you guys next year! Happy 2006!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113590530959954700?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113590530959954700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113590530959954700&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113590530959954700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113590530959954700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/12/exhaustion.html' title='Exhaustion'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113454179802264546</id><published>2005-12-13T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T23:29:58.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A quick note</title><content type='html'>Braces suck! I feel like I have mini-cheese graters in my mouth shredding my lips and cheeks. Yes, I know many of you have probably had braces...so then you know that they suck!! Not only that, but I have to have a tooth pulled so they can make some room! Sonuvabitch!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113454179802264546?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113454179802264546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113454179802264546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113454179802264546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113454179802264546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/12/quick-note.html' title='A quick note'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113436653332360420</id><published>2005-12-11T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T22:48:53.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaaanges</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, still no job. That's right people, loser alert! Kidding...kind of;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've been keeping in touch with the doctor man and he's working diligently to secure funding for me, although he's having a helluva time.  He did give me a lead on another job though, so who knows about that one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friend (a pharmaceutical rep) has an opening in her company. Problem: Another girl that works in San Diego wants to transfer back here (uh...why??? I have a feeling it's the "little fish, big pond" scenario). Of course, no one here likes her and their boss, upon seeing the eye-rolling-oh-god-not-her looks, is thinking twice about bringing her back. Anyway, my resume is in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My other friend (a teacher) has an opening at her school for first grade teacher (first grade....I know!). She and her mother (who both work at the school) are going to give me praise and build me up as much as possible so I can get in there. I can then get my alternative certification and start teaching right after Christmas. So, there's another if. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have a good feeling about 2006 though. I mean, it's gotta be better than 2005 (although I think I said the same thing around this time last year about 2005 versus 2004). Anyway, hope my feeling is better this year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have finally gone back to my roots....literally. That's right peeps. I can no longer be the butt of any of the following jokes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Q: How does a blonde spell Farm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A: E-I-E-I-O &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Q: What did the blond do when she missed the 66 Bus?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A: She took the 33 bus twice instead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Q: Why did the blonde get fired from the M&amp;M factory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A: She kept throwing away the "w"s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Q: What you call a blonde skeleton in a closet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A: Winner of last year's hide-and-seek contest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You get the point. That's right...I'm now a brunette. Decided to make a change. Maybe that's what I needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh yeah, and the icing on the cake?? I'm getting BRACES on Tuesday! Yep, I said braces. So you can call me any of the following: Brace face, metal mouth, tin grin, traintracks, etc. Yippee. But when all is said and done I will have the most perfect set of teeth in the whole world (I can keep telling myself that ok;)??) I actually don't really need braces except to correct what I did to myself in 6th grade that has caused me nothing but grief for the rest of my 30 years. SO, bring the pain!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hmm...what else? I have completely finished my Christmas shopping, yahoo for that. It's definitely a yuletide first for me. Of course, now when everyone else needs to Christmas shop, I feel like I should be too so I end up spending more money buying an extra present here and there for everyone. Maybe that's why I never finished early?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I need to try and keep up here. I noticed I went from daily writing, to about every other day or so. To maybe one a week or so. To MAYBE once a month. I just noticed lately that I have no motivation to write anything. Of course, with my new "everything is about to change for the better" plan, I will definitely have to be writing more. At least for my own sanity!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Adios and hope everyone is enjoying this wonderful time of year (I just love it)!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113436653332360420?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113436653332360420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113436653332360420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113436653332360420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113436653332360420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/12/ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaaanges.html' title='Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaaanges'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113255804003557036</id><published>2005-11-21T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T00:28:18.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The answer to the burning question...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm still waiting in the wings here for a sound "yes" on the job. I talked to him (the doctor) this past week and he said he was "almost ready for me". He needed to finish a couple of things and would let me know this next week what was going on. You know how non-profits are...SO, I'm pretty sure it's a go, but I guess we'll soon see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, it has come to my attention that I have had absolutely nothing interesting to say for awhile and didn't feel the creative juices flowing. I've attempted some posts a couple of times but ended up just staring at the screen and decided to spare everyone from the drabness occurring at this point. Nothing exciting going on around here at all. Just going through the motions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, just gettin' ready for the holly-days...ya know, deckin' the halls (who the hell actually "decks the halls with boughs of holly"? And if you do, could you let me know what that's like?) And while we're on the subject (yes I know, Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet...but we're already getting ready for Christmas) uh "Don we now our gay apparel"? What's that all about? I prefer the old classics like&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells&lt;br /&gt;Batman smells&lt;br /&gt;Robin laid an egg&lt;br /&gt;Batmobile lost it's wheel&lt;br /&gt;And the Joker got away&lt;br /&gt;Hey!&lt;br /&gt;Don't even ask...I think I'm losing my marbles. Probably only one left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for me! Happy Thanksgiving just in case I have nothing else interesting to say until then!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113255804003557036?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113255804003557036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113255804003557036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113255804003557036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113255804003557036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/11/answer-to-burning-question.html' title='The answer to the burning question...'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113091135007407788</id><published>2005-11-01T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T23:02:30.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I finally found the one?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, if you know me, you know I'm not talking "man" here. Yep, I'm talking J-O-B. I think I got myself a jobby job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A local doctor created a non-profit for Border youths and is building a baseball complex here. He needs a project manager/fund raiser and I spoke with him for a long time. He's really interested in me and the job sounds phenomenal. Dream job-ish. And the money...hijole!! Let's just say it's about $15K more a year than I've made....ever. Plus he's going to put together a bonus package for me as well, based on what I help bring in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's working out details right now but I'm pretty sure that when he said "I just need to work out the figures to get you exactly what you want and get your office cleaned out" that means I got the job? I should know pretty soon. Luckily my friend, who is a pharmaceutical rep, knows him and he happened to mention this. She mentioned me and VOILA! this could be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna jinx this one...although I probably just did by writing about it, but I hope not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone had a super scary Halloween. I showed my true colors and went dressed as a mental patient. I carried this around all night too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/Halloween%202005%20and%20fam%20024.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/Halloween%202005%20and%20fam%20024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you can't tell...that's a picture of me and Matthew McConaghuey (cut out from Cosmo). My obsession led to being checked into the loony bin (my sister's idea). I also carried around a urine sample and my "prescription" for antipsychotics. Needless to say it was a super fun night and we cashed about 300 jello shots (who does those anymore?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113091135007407788?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113091135007407788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113091135007407788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113091135007407788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113091135007407788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/11/have-i-finally-found-one.html' title='Have I finally found the one?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-113021720601181837</id><published>2005-10-24T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T22:13:26.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is fear a factor for you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So we decided to mess with the new-and-super-annoying-high-pitched-voice girl today at work. She's nice but seriously, imagine a combination of Fran Drescher mixed with an out of tune violin and some nails on a chalkboard...that's what this girl's voice sounds like. That and the fact that she likes to hear herself talk just about makes me want to slam my head in the walk-in door repeatedly just to drown out the sound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, we decided to play our own little initiation version of "Fear Factor". Granted we didn't have emperor scorpions, mutilated monkey butts, or hang gliding into a lake full of deadly pirahnas...but we have lots of food that when mixed together is pretty freakin' disgusting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We began by slyly asking her what foods she can't stand. We all participated so it seemed we were just making conversation. We'd ask questions and she answered...so clueless the poor thing. Then we set out to make our concoction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you are interested, here's what it consists of:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 little tub of creamer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 squirt of canned whipped cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 table spoon of pesto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 tablespoon of balsamic vinaigrette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;8 sliced onions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3 anchovies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4 lima beans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 teaspoon of ricotta cheese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a dash of tabasco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 teaspoon of capers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a dash of fennel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1 teaspoon of the oil from a can of smoked oysters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Put in blender and set to "puree". Pour in a large glass, garnish with a straw and a black olive, and serve to poor unsuspecting new girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ok, so we told her what we were doing but didn't tell her what was in it. Said we'd all done it (which was true except for me...I didn't have to be "initiated") and told her she only had to take 2 gulps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funniest shit I've seen all day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-113021720601181837?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/113021720601181837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=113021720601181837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113021720601181837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/113021720601181837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/10/is-fear-factor-for-you.html' title='Is fear a factor for you?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112956928461731422</id><published>2005-10-17T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T10:14:44.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's so great about being 30?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As I embark upon the brand new journey of a decade, beginning today, I really thought about all the positive connotations of turning the big three-oh-no. I'm really not freaking out about being 30, not even the least bit sad really. I was actually so ready to be done with my 20s, as they were of no use to me anymore. Now I'm at the bottom of the 30s instead of being at the top of the 20s, that's better right? So, what are all the good things about being 30? Well, here they are in no particular order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. My sexual peak is just beginning (whereas for guys...it was pretty much downhill from 18;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. There are lots of people who didn't become who they are until they were in their 30s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. I don't have to worry about the "things to do before I turn 30" list anymore. I can relax now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. Thirtysomething sounds more dignified than "those twentysomethings". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. It's the start of something new, and new is good. I feel that this is going to be it. The adventure is just beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. No matter how old I get, I'll &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; be the youngest in the family. And I'll always get "you're still young" and that's good enough for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;7. Men like older women...right? Maybe I can bag some 20 something hottie who wants an older woman;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;8. People will take me more seriously now that I'm in the 30s (and I still get carded!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;9. I will not be forced to take a shot for the number of years I am in age...I mean, who can take 30 shots? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;10. 30 IS the new 20!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And those are just some of the reasons I'm ok with turning 30. I actually am excited, I mean my 20s were cool, but they've obviously done nothing for me...except cause the little fine lines and few extra pounds that I have to show for in my 30s. I have a good feeling about this!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112956928461731422?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112956928461731422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112956928461731422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112956928461731422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112956928461731422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/10/whats-so-great-about-being-30.html' title='What&apos;s so great about being 30?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112918275885332526</id><published>2005-10-12T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T22:52:38.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What did he just call me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, it's been an interesting week, suffice it to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On Friday I managed to drop my phone into a drainage gutter in the middle of a parking lot. The ONLY gutter in the entire parking lot of course, and I drop my phone in it. BUT with the help of three stoned teenagers and three of my friends we managed to lift the damn grate (that weighed a million pounds) and get it out. But not before one of the stoners kindly offered to crawl through the sewer to get it out. Pretty cool stuff right there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I was walking through the parking lot of Target, I get to my car, and I hear "Excuse me." I turn around and there's this guy (around 20) standing there. Here's how the story goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Um, are you nice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (???) Uhhh...I like to think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Oh good! Well, I'm in this contest you see....and if I win I get a trip to Acapulco. Have you ever been to Acapulco?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (already knowing that he's trying to sell me something) No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Ask me how I can win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Do I have to? Oh, alright...How can you win!!!???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: I'm glad you asked. You see, it's all based on points. We have to get 20,000 points and right now I'm currently at 15162 (or whatever). Ask me how I get more points.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Let me guess...you sell magazines. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Oh no, these are karaoke songs. You pick one and you sing it and I'll dance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Sure, right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Ok, so it's magazines. Now, how many points do I need?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: 20000.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Oooh, smart and pretty. Do you have a boyfriend? You can rent me for the rest of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Uh...yeah. Ha ha. I'm not buying any magazines. I already have too many.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Oh, but that's good news b/c I can renew the subscriptions for you. Do you work out or are you naturally fit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (gagging on the vomit in my mouth) Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not buying any magazines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: blah blah blah (that's all I'm hearing now...cheap flattery and bad salesmanship).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It goes on like this for awhile. I finally tell him no way am I buying magazines, once and for all. So then....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Well, if you're going to be &lt;em&gt;rude&lt;/em&gt; and not buy any magazines, can you give me a ride to Walmart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;No!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Come on, I'm totally harmless! You can call my mom or my manager (shows me numbers on his cell phone).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: No, I'm sorry. I don't trust people that much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: I thought you said you were nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yeah, I said I'm &lt;em&gt;nice &lt;/em&gt;not &lt;em&gt;stupid!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him:(gets the scary look in his eye) WELL YOU MUST BE A REAL DOUCHEBAG!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What the fuck? A &lt;em&gt;douchebag?!?!?&lt;/em&gt; When do guys call girls a douchebag? I can see bitch or whatever(not that any of those would be ok)...but &lt;em&gt;douchebag? &lt;/em&gt;He left me speechless, but I wanted to run over his skinny little punk fuckerass. Fucker. So I drove by him, honked, and flipped him off. Made me feel better anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Got super drunk off like 2 margaritas on Saturday during the day at lunch (they were PURE tequila and PURE evil, I'm convinced). Went out for more drinks. Then more. Then decided to go see Robert Randolph and Santana play. Had more drinks. Wanted to go eat afterwards because I was so hungry by that time that I think my stomach was eating itself (it felt that way). And got the &lt;em&gt;slowest&lt;/em&gt; waiter in the entire world (who also happened to be this weirdo guy that we know kinda). He got our order all wrong, but it didn't matter because by the time we got our food 2 hours later I was so sick I couldn't even eat. Went home and managed to expel any and all contents of my stomach into the toilet. Great day, Saturday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I have another interview tomorrow and that's all I'm saying. Still waiting to hear back on the group interview job (so we'll see). That's it for me. Peace, I'm outta here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112918275885332526?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112918275885332526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112918275885332526&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112918275885332526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112918275885332526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-did-he-just-call-me.html' title='What did he just call me?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112857815271841093</id><published>2005-10-05T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T22:55:52.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The interview</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I had an interview with a University here the other day. I won't say how it went because whenever I say it went well....well obviously I still don't have a job, so you can see what happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It was a group interview...4 interviewers and 11 interviewees all in the same room. Interesting, first time I've ever had one of those. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It seems that there are quite a few Einsteins out there looking for a job too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We had to go around the room and say who we were and say something memorable. The first few people might as well have said "I'm so and so and I'm a person." That's how memorable their statements were. It got to me and I said "I'm Kelli and I have a fascination with serial killers." I think people will remember that...and the interviewers got a kick out of it. Then everyone followed my lead and said something more interesting than "I'm Joe and you can remember me by my brown hair."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So then we do this group exercise and we had to present it to the room. I got stuck with the female versions of Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbass. These girls were clueless. The interviewers were walking around and I'm stating my point and I can see her nodding yes and the two girls in my group say "Naw, I don't think that's right." I finally gave in, but you can bet I made my point during the presentation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then we have to interview the person next to us and tell the room why we think that person is good for the position. Tweedle-Dumbass is my partner again and she just wants to chit chat. I finally started writing things about me on her paper so she could read them out. She tells me she's been unemployed for 4 months and I said I was too. Big mistake. She proceeds to tell me "We should say that. I tell them you've been unemployed for 4 months and you say the same thing." UH NO! Not really the best idea. She says "Maybe they'll feel bad for us." WTF?! I had to INSIST that she not say that. Luckily she didn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;At the end of the interview, I was the ONLY person to go to each of the interviewers individually and thank them. One of the interviewers says "Hi Kelli, it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard alot about you and have seen your resume. Good Luck!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That's good right? And bonus...if I get the job I can go to school for free!! So I decided if this happens I'm going to get my PhD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;From now on folks, that's &lt;em&gt;Dr. Kelli&lt;/em&gt; to you;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112857815271841093?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112857815271841093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112857815271841093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112857815271841093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112857815271841093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/10/interview.html' title='The interview'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112840691136358564</id><published>2005-10-03T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T23:21:51.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Epiphany?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND REALIZE HOW COMPLETELY INSANE IT IS THAT YOU ARE ALIVE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Have you ever done this? Or better yet, thought to do this? I hadn't...not until today anyway. The concept may not be wholly original but for me it was. When you think about it, I mean &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;think about it&lt;/em&gt; it opens up a whole new mindset. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Depression had set in. For what specific reason? Hmm...it could have been any of the numerous reasons you may all be well aware of in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; It may have been a step past that. Not just "Am I going to find a job?" but "Am I going to find my dream job?" and of course what follows is "What the hell is my dream job?" What the hell am I looking for and if I find something am I going to be happy with it because every so often I take a look around and feel like no matter what, the grass is always greener?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not just "Where do I want to be?" but "Is that really where I want to be or is it just a fleeting idea that I have right now?" I have the power to rationalize any idea that pops into my head...and then turn around again and think "That was a dumbass idea."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not even just "Am I going to find that special someone?" but "Am I going to find that special someone here or somewhere else, and when I find them is it going to be great or just "time"?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And these are just on the surface...thoughts that pop into my head. I have the ability to create dreams and then shatter them all inside my head in a matter of minutes, hours, or days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Bear with me here. Then there's the outlandish thoughts. The ones where I get depressed (how sad is this) because I'm so far from being "famous" or a person who is "noteworthy"...making a name for myself in the world. Will I ever get there or just give up and settle for being "mediocre"? I've always felt that I have some bigger purpose and I'm so far from a "bigger purpose" right now that I just feel like resigning to the idea of being "eh". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, those thoughts pop into my head...I'm bummed, start thinking about something, get excited, bring up the "what ifs", start to doubt, and then get down all over again.  Mind you this is not on a daily basis and after rereading this...I think I'm sounding a bit nuts. Are we all a bit nuts inside our own heads? I just wonder what it would be like to be inside other people's heads and hear their thoughts for a bit...just to see if I'm in the majority or minority. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I digress....so the whole point of this post is "Take a deep breath and realize how completely insane it is that you are alive." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I read that today. I did that today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I mean, I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; did that today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I sat and I thought about it. About living in general and life and all of those good things. Yes, people have worries and problems and doubts and fallen hopes and dreams and sadness....and just to be alive and feel anything at all really is completely insane. A wonder to behold. We are so complex...not just mentally and emotionally...but physically too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I guess what I'm trying to say is that all of that thinking and pondering I did today...it changed my outlook on a lot of things. I'm happy in the skin I'm in and I think I've already done great things. Touched peoples' lives. Been a great person and have lived to the best of my ability...to date. And I'm going to keep on and keep on.  Just thought I'd share.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112840691136358564?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112840691136358564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112840691136358564&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112840691136358564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112840691136358564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/10/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112740732243011264</id><published>2005-09-22T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T09:42:02.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And they lived bipolarly(?) ever after</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Once upon a time there were two "princes" who ruled over the land of Pizzeria. Pizzeria was once a peaceful place, where people got along merrily and work was done in good nature and cheer. Then the princes took over Pizzeria and things began to go sour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;These princes weren't your ordinary princes, whom we envision as handsome and charming...quite the opposite indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The first and oldest prince, Prince Freak, was prone to violent outbursts when things were not going his way and would pitch a fit at the first inkling of turbulence. When a Pizzerian went to the prince for advice or for help, the prince often blew up and went into a vicious tirade for no apparent reason. He would yell at guests of Pizzeria, when all the guests wanted to do was learn about the kingdom. Plus, this prince was a big dork.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The second prince, Prince Loser, was more up and down. One minute he would have the kingdom in stitches and the next he was berating them like children. He could go from laughing and joking to scolding and humiliating in the blink of an eye. He may then be extremely mean for the rest of the day...or he could perk right up and be fine again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Prince Loser was on a huge power trip though, after Prince Freak made him the "Prince On Duty" while Prince Freak was away.  Prince Loser was so ecstatic that he could hardly contain himself. His love for the power and the glory increased tenfold. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;One day, while Prince Loser was minding the kingdom, the people had finally had enough and there was an uprising.  Prince Loser shouted "You little insignificant wretches of Pizzeria...how dare you rise up against me. You have no sense. You couldn't survive without me, yet you Pizzerians are completely replaceable. We don't need you here...new citizens will not be hard to find!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yet, many people throughout the lands knew of Pizzeria and of the unstable princes. No one would ever want to live under their rule, and the people of Pizzeria knew this. After hearing this threat countless times, the Pizzerians had had enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A joyful procession made their way out of the kingdom just as Prince Freak returned from his journey. Prince Freak was aghast and asked "What is the meaning of this? Where are our people going?"  Prince Loser replied "They have abandoned their city and their loyalty to Pizzeria. Those people are not worthy of being called Pizzerians. We shall search the lands to find new residents."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And so it was. Prince Freak and Loser searched the country far and wide for new residents, but to no avail. The word had spread about the Princes and no one was willing to go to Pizzeria. Not even the downtrodden or diseased. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In the end, the two Princes ruled a peopleless kingdom and became quite fond of each other (ie: gay) and fought constantly, as two crazies would.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112740732243011264?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112740732243011264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112740732243011264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112740732243011264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112740732243011264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/09/and-they-lived-bipolarly-ever-after.html' title='And they lived bipolarly(?) ever after'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112718942690229861</id><published>2005-09-19T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T21:33:47.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it is....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, my grandfather passed away today. It's been rough going for the past week or so. In the end though, it was better that he go peacefully, which he did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We spent much of the past week with him at home, just being near him. His best friend was there, his family, everyone who knew and loved him passed through their doors. I know that even though he wasn't "with it" the majority of the time, he knew we were there, and that was comforting. It was difficult seeing him like that, confined to bed and not being able to do anything for himself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He was always a strong man, worked right up until the end. He was independent, was in love with his &lt;a href="http://www.nmsu.edu/~ucomm/Panorama/dec98/whirl.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;college football team &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;whose every games he never missed. If he could have and if we would have let him, he would have been at their game on Saturday. He still had a little fight left now and then and really wanted to get up, but it's better for him now....he's peaceful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He lived a long, meaningful life and had lots of fun and had so many who loved him. It's sad to see life come full circle but inevitable nonetheless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We are all doing well and have the love of our great family to get through this. Unfortunately this means no trip to Austin for me...but there will plenty more ACL shows and only one time where I will get to pay tribute to a man who had such a profound impact on me and the people around me. As I was typing this, I heard his name on the news..."Mr. Aggie" they called him. What a great tribute they did to him. The college is donating memorabilia so that his family can do what we knew he'd love...come decked out in the school colors. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He will be missed but always remembered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112718942690229861?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112718942690229861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112718942690229861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112718942690229861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112718942690229861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/09/and-so-it-is.html' title='And so it is....'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112671784751772547</id><published>2005-09-14T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T10:10:47.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a schizophrenic and so am I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I am the absolute worst, I mean worst, at trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do. As it stands right now, I've decided to say see ya to Palm Springs and hello to Phoenix. I just didn't want to live in Palm Springs and the one person I'd be near would be my ex. I mean, we're still friends but that just puts me in a situation I probably will regret. SO, Phoenix it is. My sister has contacts up the wazoo and we are going to find me a job there (I know what you guys are thinking...yeah right, because so far nothing has happened with me;) It just seems like there's always something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, on another note....my 94 year old grandfather is going downhill pretty quickly. Yes, I am sad, but he has had a long great life. He went code red on Monday night but they brought him back. He's a trooper, that one. I don't know how much longer he can last, but I'm just trying to enjoy the last bit of time we have with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And lastly, I don't know what the hell I did but I woke up yesterday with the WORST neck/back/shoulder pain. Pain so bad it made my stomach hurt. I went to my massage therapist friend's house and she made me ice it and then she tried to get out the knots. It helped for a bit but I was in so much pain last night I could even sleep. Still hurts like a son of a bitch. Can't really turn my head either way or do anything. If I just sit here and don't move it hurts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, those are my latest gripes and revelations. I really do need like a life guide, something like the monopoly cards that tell me exactly what to do and when to do it. Or like a magic 8 ball that really works. My life would be so much easier. Maybe I'll go get my palm read or have cards done or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112671784751772547?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112671784751772547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112671784751772547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112671784751772547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112671784751772547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-schizophrenic-and-so-am-i.html' title='I&apos;m a schizophrenic and so am I'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112572972433452092</id><published>2005-09-02T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T23:42:04.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips from a waitress</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yeah, waitresses...er, I mean "servers" give tips too. But more like in the form of advice. Here they are in no particular order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. If I ask you if you're ready to order, be ready. Don't say "yes" and then say "Sally, what do you want? Well, what kind of pizza do you have?" That's annoying and it wastes my time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. If I ask for your drink order, that means all I have time for right now is drinks. Don't say "We're ready to order" when you see that I have 3 other tables that just sat down and there are beads of perspiration on my forehead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. If one person asks for something, you'd better damn well speak up if you want some too. Don't wait until I go get it and come back to your table and then say you want one too. That pisses me off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. Don't ask if we have free refills. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. Don't ask the price of EVERYTHING, that's what the fuckin' menu is for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. Don't drink your drink so fast when you see the restaurant is busy and it's obvious I'm the only person working. You do that and you just better be prepared to be thirsty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;7. Don't ask for something and then not use it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;8. Don't tell me that I'm the greatest server in the world and then tip me $2 on a $60 tab. You suck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;9. Don't say "hey lady" when you want my attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;10. Don't change your mind 30 times and make me scratch out the whole damn ticket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;11. Don't talk on your cell phone when it's time to order and ignore me and make me wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;12. Don't ignore me and talk to each other when I'm trying to get your order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;13. Don't act like you're the only table I have...you're not and I'm not gonna fuckin' put up with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;14. Don't walk in the restaurant 5 minutes before closing, order a bottle of wine and stay for an hour and a half AFTER we're closed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;15. Don't bitch that I'm sweeping near your table when you're still sitting there after we've been closed for an hour and a half.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;16. Don't try to beg us to serve you another drink AFTER we've given last call...and we've been closed for an hour and a half.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;17. Don't be shitty when you want to order more food AFTER....you know the drill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;18. Don't call in the middle of a rush to order food to go and then ask about everything on our menu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;19. Don't blame me when the kitchen messes up your food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;20. Cut us some fuckin' slack....after all, we ARE the ones who handle your food;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There's plenty more where that came from...but seriously, if you've never worked in a restaurant it's not easy and it's pretty thankless. Remember, tips are our livelihood...we get paid shit by the hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thanks for playing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112572972433452092?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112572972433452092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112572972433452092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112572972433452092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112572972433452092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/09/tips-from-waitress.html' title='Tips from a waitress'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112564064822038727</id><published>2005-09-01T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T22:57:28.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opportunity Knocks?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do I answer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Dilemma:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I received a call from a friend in California whose mother works for a homebuilder. Great company. She needs someone to come in and do marketing, scheduling, etc. (more details to come) and it's good pay to start with a great opportunity for advancement and more moeny in the near future...in Palm Springs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not my first choice for a city to live in, but the opportunity is great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, what's been driving me nuts is...well, me I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I can't decide if it's ok for me to leave. My mom, that is. I know she would never want to hold me back from a great chance, but there's this "thing" nagging at me. What if something happens and I'm not here? What if I regret the time that I'll lose with her if I leave? What if...what if...what if?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm on the fence here and I don't know what to do. There's nothing (jobwise) for me here. I haven't been able to find anything worth anything, so this is the perfect chance right? Or is it right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If only there was something or someone that could tell me what was the right thing to do. I'm bad at making decisions like this. I'm a Libra...we're good at being indecisive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I just don't know. Any words of wisdom out there for a confused, unemployed, indecisive girl with a lot on her mind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112564064822038727?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112564064822038727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112564064822038727&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112564064822038727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112564064822038727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/09/opportunity-knocks.html' title='Opportunity Knocks?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112494562995308522</id><published>2005-08-24T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T22:39:09.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ACL baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So I decided to say "Screw it, I need some fun!" I'm going to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://austincitylimits.com/festival/default.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Austin City Limits festival&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; and I'm super duper stoked!! I can't wait... Coldplay, Widespread Panic, Jason Mraz, Black Crowes, Allman Brothers, Drive By Truckers, Robert Randolph, Gov't Mule...and so many more. I can't wait!! September 22nd I'll be on a plane to Austin! Well, just thought I'd share the excitement!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh, I borrowed&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yetanotherdot.com/asp/80s.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; from jess and it's so worth the time! Me? I got a 91...not too shabby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112494562995308522?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112494562995308522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112494562995308522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112494562995308522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112494562995308522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/08/acl-baby.html' title='ACL baby!'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112452342961850056</id><published>2005-08-20T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-20T00:37:09.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The human bulldozer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That's right...step right up. Hurry hurry! You've never seen anything like this before folks. Come one, come all to witness the phenomena that is "The Human Bulldozer"!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She paves the way so her (insert rude word) ass can get through any spot, tight or not!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She shoves and pokes, get out of her way!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She mumbles "excuse me" without really meaning it to get by!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This, my lovely friends, is this dumb ass beotch that I work with.  It's only once a week that I'm grazed (yes, grazed) with her presence. This girl... damn I kinda wanna punch her in the face. But only enough to let her know that she's annoying me and everyone else at work. She's rude, she's bossy, and she's downright uh.... well just a freakin' bitch.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;For example, here I am in the middle of a slammed Friday night, getting my drinks for a table...minding my own business when she comes plowing through. There's no waiting for her, oh no...throw patience to the wind! And she walks right up behind you...and pokes you in the freakin' kidneys with her stupid finger three times. UGHHH! That pissed me off!!!! Then, next time around, she does the hand on the back thing, but not nicely...it's a definite shove. And it's not just me...one of the other girls gets pissed and tells her to back off. To which the bulldozer replies "Dude, just chill." Uhh...I'm so not your "dude". You and I...we're not on "dude" terms, k? Thanks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So (and she's a hostess at the restaurant and this is part of her job) I tell her "The kid at table 6 spilled his coke, could you please get the mop?" She looks at me a bit defiantly (even though I said it as nicely as possible) and goes over there. I walk by and say thanks and she says "Yeah, you &lt;em&gt;should &lt;/em&gt;be thankful." To which I reply "&lt;em&gt;Excuse me?!?!" &lt;/em&gt;And I get a "Just kidding" all snotty like. I about knocked her damn look off her face. But I don't think that people in the restaurant are fond of bloodshed... at least not til after they're finished eating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I mean, whatever she is doing is automatically the most important thing in the world and you have to clear a path or she'll clear it for you. I mean, common courtesy is when I and someone else are about to cross paths...I pause so they can go ahead.  Her? Oh no...there's no courtesy pause. She'll knock you down, I swear it. I honestly don't even think I'm doing her justice with my description. It's unbelievable. There are times when I know I'm not in her way but she plows through me just because. It's like "I'm gonna be walking in that area in like 20 minutes, so excuse me!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And while I'm on the subject of the nuts at work....here's a little tidbit from the &lt;em&gt;owner &lt;/em&gt;of the restaurant. He's like a jekyll and hyde. One minute he's calm...but if you piss him off....talk about Sybill! And let's just say he's not really what you and I like to call a "people person". He told this old man to go to hell. Actually...I take that back, he didn't &lt;em&gt;tell&lt;/em&gt; him....he &lt;em&gt;screamed &lt;/em&gt;it at him. I mean, the old man was being a jerk and it was pretty funny, but shit...see what I have to deal with;)? He's thrown money back at people and told them to get the fuck outta there, he called this man an alcoholic, pretty much a nut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I had to vent a bit...but it actually is pretty funny. All of it. Entertaining to say the least...plus the money is sweet. Damn people are crazy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112452342961850056?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112452342961850056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112452342961850056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112452342961850056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112452342961850056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/08/human-bulldozer.html' title='The human bulldozer'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112407363503416279</id><published>2005-08-14T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T19:40:35.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't a girl catch a break?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, sorry people but here we go again. Pity...party of 1! I'm beginning to wonder what the reason is. You know the "everything happens for a reason" reason? See...if one more shitty thing happens I'm gonna have to bust some chops. I won't go into the detail about all this, but lets just say this crap has got to stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, I know all about karma and all that good stuff, but I like to think that I should have a flood of good karma coming my way. I'm super nice to people, I do things for other people all the time (and don't boast about it...I actually enjoy it), I have what I like to think is a great heart. So what the hell?? I'm wondering if the karma fairy might be saving it all up for me so that I become the girl who won the lottery eight times in one year, mistakenly discovered the cure for cancer (and anuerysms), ended world hunger and poverty, and created peace throughout the world. I mean shit...I'm bound to at least get one of the above. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Have you guys ever played that "what good luck, what bad luck game?" I actually think I posted about it once....yeah, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-official.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; it is.  Well, here's another one that fits in there:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck...I got a pretty cool job offer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What bad luck...the pay sucks and it's only part time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thing is...I'm probably making more money waiting tables and mooching off the government than I did when  I had a "real" job. My ex boss called me the other day and our conversation was a little something like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Hello?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Well, congratulations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: I'm calling to congratulate you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Uh, for what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: I heard (ad agency) hired you for the job you'd been wanting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Oh really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Yeah, that's awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Funny, if they hired me, they forgot to tell me about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: What do you mean?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Uhhh, I mean if they hired me no one told me. I'm not working there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Really?!?! Well...but...I mean I heard it from a reliable person. It didn't sound like gossip or anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Well, then if your source is reliable I'd better go pick up my paycheck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Nice huh? And to top it all off...the owner of the company I used to work for came into eat at the restaurant I'm working at and sat in my section. Awesome. So embarrassing. I also wanted to smack him upside the head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh well...things I know will get better, but this is my place for depressing, boring, or excited rants. Too bad they've all been pretty depressing lately. I'm hoping that's gonna change here pretty quick.Until then...I'm out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112407363503416279?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112407363503416279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112407363503416279&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112407363503416279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112407363503416279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/08/cant-girl-catch-break.html' title='Can&apos;t a girl catch a break?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112322526573836439</id><published>2005-08-04T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T00:03:07.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough with the doom and gloom already</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of it all so I decided that I'm now taking the "glass half full" approach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved back to this city (that I'm not totally crazy about) for a reason. It was meant to be. My mom got sick and I was able to be here for it. Now I'm unemployed (well...I don't have a "real" job) but I think that's for the same reason. I'm able to spend this time with my mom and that's important. Regardless of what happens in the very near future at least I'll always have this time right now that I've gotten to spend with her. I'm not sure what's going to happen although we got a pretty good idea. That's about it on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I finally have figured out why I can't find a job. And all this time I've been wondering what the hell was wrong. I found it. According to Emily Post’s book “The Etiquette Advantage in Business” here's some key interview info:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never wear anything sloppy, tight or revealing to an interview&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(Oh crap...so the women interviewers don't live the cleavage shot?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;High-quality, tailored business suits are always appropriate for both men and women. And don’t forget the details: Make sure your shoes and accessories are clean and polished&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(I KNEW I shouldn't have worn my dress pumps on that hike through the desert! They looked &lt;em&gt;sorta&lt;/em&gt; black still.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Clothes may make the (wo)man, but hair and hygiene are crucial&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(Here we go).&lt;/span&gt; You never want an interviewer to smell you before they see you, so always bathe the morning of the interview&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(D'oh!!!! Bathe, bathe, bathe...my new mantra),&lt;/span&gt; use a good-quality bath soap and deodorant&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(so for us poor people...if we can't afford "good-quality" then we're screwed because if it isn't good quality then we won't get a job and if we don't get a job then we won't be able to bathe with "good quality" toiletries... a tautology if I've ever heard one;)&lt;/span&gt;, and avoid wearing perfume or cologne&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;(shit, there goes the alternative to bathing)&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should probably stop talking about how big of a jackass by ex boss was too;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see people, I've been doing it all wrong. Now if I can just remember this stuff I could be a CEO by next week! Still hot on the trail of my dream job...I can see it just over the horizon, just a few more miles to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite thing though, is when people say "With your background and education, you shouldn't have any problems finding a job." Oh really? You'd think that wouldn't you? I guess if I wanted any old job I could have one by now but I figure "Hey, this is a good time to be picky...I'm actually doing pretty well for myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did get to talk about my super fun lake trip...it was a blast. Was forced to listen to spanish "cumbia" music on the way up. Almost went nuts from that. We jet skiied, we partied, we got a little stoopid. Got attacked by bees, wasps, hornets. Almost let the jet ski float out in the middle of the lake. Lost sunglasses in the lake. Found said sunglasses with my knee in the lake 5 hours later. Here's a slight picumentary for you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_0449.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The sky was beautiful on the way up and since I was being tortured by the music of the gays, I needed to keep myself occupado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/IMG_0449.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/1600/IMG_0449.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_0454.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another shot from the car...what a great day for the lake!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_04531.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, as you can see I was bored. This was at the checkpoint into New Mexico. Ain't it a beaut?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_04651.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Big Drink. Elephant's Butt (Elephant Butte) in beautiful Truth or Consequences, NM. Gotta love the name of the town. Trailer parks as far as the eye can see and rotten fish as far as the nose can smell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_04682.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hey, I think that rope is stuck in the jet ski propeller." Oh yeah, you bet I did that. That's me, the driver. With the red flag and the broken jet ski (that isn't mine).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_04722.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"No hard feelin's...right guys? Right?" Took about an hour and a half and a case a beer to get that piece of crap blue rope out of the propeller! And yes, they did let me drive it later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3737/745/320/IMG_04732.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The sandcastle I built while waiting for the guys to fix the jet ski I broke and almost ruined the trip! Awesome!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, there's a little bit of my trip...sorry I didn't get pictures of my friend doing a naked fire dance and then leaping over the fire and singeing his....well, it wasn't his eyebrows if you know what I mean.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Peace, I'm outta here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112322526573836439?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112322526573836439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112322526573836439&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112322526573836439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112322526573836439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/08/enough-with-doom-and-gloom-already.html' title='Enough with the doom and gloom already'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112265767189525326</id><published>2005-07-29T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T10:21:11.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I jinxed myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yep, I think I need to just shut up when I'm thinking about something because it always bites me in the ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- No job as of yet. Still waiting to hear back butI've had more interviews and second interviews and third interviews...but I'm still waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- Worst thing in the world...my mom's cancer is back with a vengeance. I don't know if it's beatable this time, but we're going to try our damnedest. Fucking dumbass doctors. Never even did another CT scan to see if there was more cancer growing...just kept saying "Boy, she looks good." We got a new doctor (too bad she wasn't the original one) who is awesome but it has gotten so bad. We think maybe she never was in remission. When the new doc called the old one he says ...."Well, but she looked so good!"  the new doc says "She still &lt;em&gt;looks&lt;/em&gt; good!" Stupid dumbass idiot doctor. I want to beat his ass. We want him to go down (although not necessarily monetarily) but I want everyone to know that he's a freakin' asshole loser dumbass. Can you tell I'm pissed? Other than that, I'm doing ok. My mom is keeping up her spirits and we're going to meet with the new doc on Tuesday to find out everything. Basically the doctor says she has 3-6 months...but there's always a miracle. We're praying for the miracle. If anyone can do it, it's this doc. She used to be at MD Anderson and has her own office and equipment. She said "If I'm not on your insurance, don't worry about it. This is my building and my equipment and I don't have to charge anyone if I don't want to." So that's awesome. Well, everyone keep your fingers crossed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Man, this has been just about the shittiest year ever. I NEED some good luck vibes....any body wanna send some my way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112265767189525326?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112265767189525326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112265767189525326&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112265767189525326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112265767189525326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-think-i-jinxed-myself.html' title='I think I jinxed myself'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112188727840796918</id><published>2005-07-20T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T12:21:18.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could this be the one?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Things &lt;em&gt;might&lt;/em&gt; be falling into place.  I don't wanna jinx myself, but this could be my week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I finally convinced my ex that he and I really need to call it quits after all this time. It's been a burden on us both, but him moreso lately. I just had to come out and tell him what was in my heart. I think in the long run we'll both be happier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I got a callback and 2nd interview with the newspaper here!! Woohoo! It's been almost 3 weeks and I was getting worried (especially because he made it seem like it was urgent that they hired someone ASAP). That would be so awesome. The best pay, laptop, car allowance, cell phone....this was the one I was really hoping for. Wish me luck for tomorrow morning! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've been going to the gym and working out religiously for about a month now and I'm really seeing the results. Weigh in today for the first time (as I try not to do that....well, &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt;) and I've lost 15 lbs! Woohoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm buying a freakin' lottery ticket!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112188727840796918?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112188727840796918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112188727840796918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112188727840796918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112188727840796918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/could-this-be-one.html' title='Could this be the one?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112175272867704080</id><published>2005-07-18T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T22:58:48.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange things are afoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes, strangeness all around me. I don't know what's goin' on around these parts but it's pretty weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We had a friend come visit from Dallas this past weekend. Crazy, fun girl. We just recently (at our 10 year reunion) came into contact with her again after about 10 (duh) years. She's a lot of fun though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She wanted us to bring a bottle of tequila in the car when we picked her up from the airport. Ummm....we opted to take her to lunch where they had alcohol. That's where it all began. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Recap of the weekend:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Friend Kim harrassed door guy for charging her $5 cover charge (The other guy never charges us, we're regulars!!). The rest of us, out of sheer embarrassment and pity paid the guy for her. Here on out, he is $5 man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ran into a bunch of random guys who were all googly eyed over all of us girls and kept trying to get us to go home with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Went to eat Whataburger at 2 am Friday night. My friend Kim locked her keys in the car...with the car running. She didn't notice until AFTER we had eaten. $5 man happens to show up. 2 screwdrivers and Kim's bent antenna later...locks pop open. She proceeds to tell him he's "the best thief ever." Friend from Dallas (FFD)runs inside to pay for his meal...it was $5. Strange how it all worked out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Next day, we go shopping with FFD and she proceeds to gather a bunch of "joke try-on" clothes. Calls us out and we bust out laughing as she looks like Swiss Family Robinson meets the Partridge Family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;FFD finds a very expensive shrug (for you guys, a shrug is one of those really, really short jacket looking things) that looks like a disco ball. Periodically through the night I can't help but look at her in all seriousness and say "You make me feel like dancin'".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;FFD notices halfway through dinner that the very expensive tag is still connected and hanging off of her shrug. Classic. She eats liguini fini with carrots and zucchini (I just like saying that).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We run around from bar to bar to bar because each one is packed. Catch a glimpse of Chad Michael Murray (in town for some odd reason??) who is very full of himself. Get accosted by some losers. One of them keeps asking "Why are you looking at me?" Uhhh....because you're in my face asswipe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Go to Dunkin' Donuts where there stands a man who has been stabbed. Yep, stabbed. He refuses to let the lady call the cops because he has warrants. She calls of course and cops, ambulance, and fire truck show up. No he was not stabbed in the Dunkin' Donuts and he wasn't bleeding really badly or anything. We started giving the DD lady a hard time..."You stabbed him because he didn't like your donuts?" She laughed. We found out he was stabbed in Juarez and since it happened in another country....the cops wouldn't do anything about it?!?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Stand on the street corner waiting to cross and get yelled at from all angles by people driving by. I hear "Oh! My eyes!" from some very original guy behind us talking about FFD's shrug. I laugh, she laughs. They stop us and one guys insists on trying it on and then taking a picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Great fun...that's just the abridged version of course. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you're wondering about my job sitch....still the same. Had an interview on Friday w/an ad agency. Looks good but I think I keep jinxing myself, so I won't say anything else. I'll know by the end of this week. Dammit, I think I really need to get the hell outta here. Anybody know of any jobs (preferably in the northwest or west) for me?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112175272867704080?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112175272867704080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112175272867704080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112175272867704080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112175272867704080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/strange-things-are-afoot.html' title='Strange things are afoot'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112162797295737643</id><published>2005-07-17T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T12:19:32.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh, to be a kid again</title><content type='html'>Brian tagged me and since he's so cool, I'm gonna go ahead and follow suit here:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what 5 things do you miss about your childhood?&lt;br /&gt;this meme requires you to do the following things:&lt;br /&gt;remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place. add your blog's name in the #5 spot. link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross-pollenation effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3crazydogs.typepad.com/"&gt;Jessica&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jasikasebkarshad.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jasika&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://martinilove.blogspot.com/"&gt;M'tini&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.comprende.typepad.com/"&gt;Lissa Ann&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/"&gt;KelBel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next, inflict this meme on five new people. Now I know the rules but I'll just let anyone who wants to play along play along:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, list the five things you miss most from childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My friends all living in the same city. I have the greatest friends in the whole world. Now that we're older and "all grown up", I miss not being able to hang out whenever and wherever.  Many of them live out of the city or out of the state and so getting all 10 of us together is really difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Summers off. Damn I miss having the lazy days of summer. We'd all go to our local swimming pool and screw around, swim, play. Those were the days! Man was I tan and in the best shape:) How I wish that never ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not having any cares. I mean really, when we were little we didn't have a care in the world. It was where were we going to play or who's house were we spending the night at. There was no boy troubles, no job troubles, nothing of the sort. It was all fun and no responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Simple things. Being excited to come home from school and see my mom. Getting excited when they made my favorite thing for dinner. Staying up late to watch TV. Playing hide and seek in the dark at my friend's house. Doing flips off the diving board/trampoline. Little things that I never really thought about at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Being fearless. I was such a tomboy when I was younger and I wasn't afraid to do anything. I could do any tricks any of the neighborhood boys could do, but better. I was the one all the girls ran to when people picked on them and I beat up the boys who taunted them. I wasn't afraid of falling off my bike and breaking my arm or falling on my rollerblades and knocking my teeth out. I wasn't scared of snakes or spiders or any creatures of the sort. I wasn't afraid of what was happening in the world and what could possibly happen. No fear. When did I become such a girly girl;)?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112162797295737643?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112162797295737643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112162797295737643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112162797295737643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112162797295737643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/ahh-to-be-kid-again.html' title='Ahh, to be a kid again'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112075985854520071</id><published>2005-07-07T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T11:10:58.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk Talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, am I the only person who remembers what we talk about when we're drunk and actually thinks it could mean something? No, I'm not talking about some guy telling me I'm so freakin' hot and that he wants to carry me off into the sunset...I'm talking about friend drunk talk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We talk about going camping next weekend or all getting together (this time for sure) once a week for a girls night or finding a way to make money and not having to work for anyone else anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm dead serious....my friends...not so much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The other night we had a full on discussion about starting our own business.  We have a great idea for this city and we could have the financial backing to do it. We have brought this up countless times and I'm dead serious about this. I'm always dead serious. But it only comes up when we're drunk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I do something about it. I do the research, find out where we could set up shop, put together a rough business plan, make a  list of costs and items we would need. I tell my friends and they're so wishy washy it's annoying. No, I'm not the one w/the money (but you guys already knew that) so I can't just move ahead. And maybe, when you're drunk, you have a lot more faith in things than when sober....but frankly I can't understand the point of talking shit if you can't back it up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mind you, this is one of many things.  I know (or at least think) other people do the same. I think I learned my lesson when I talked shit one night while extremely intoxicated about going skydiving the very next day.  "Yeah, I'll do it.  Hell Yeah!" I thought, drunk talk.  The guy I talked the drunk talk to thought "She's going." Shows up at my friend's house at 8 am (I was in Austin at the time visiting) and drags me out of the house with a hangover the size of Texas. And I did it. I think that gave me an idea that people take drunk talk seriously, and I have ever since.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friends suck. They talk a good game but damn they're lame (I'm a poet;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112075985854520071?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112075985854520071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112075985854520071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112075985854520071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112075985854520071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/drunk-talk.html' title='Drunk Talk'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112067524826454303</id><published>2005-07-06T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T11:40:51.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No news is good news....right;)?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well kiddies, still in the unemployment line but I'm not discouraged. I still have the newspaper job that looks pretty good and I have another lead here with a university, so all is not lost! In the meantime, I'm thinking of becoming a full time waitress....the money I'm making is probably better than what I made w/a real job. Now if I did it full time instead of just 3 nights a week, I'd be rollin' in the dough!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Things are getting better, I've spent the last 3 days at the movies and I saw 4 of 'em. I just love the movies....what better way to escape from the real world for awhile? Plus, I'm catching up on all of my sleep from the past....oh I don't know, 15 years. I was feeling guilty for sleeping late for awhile and then thought "When in the world am I ever going to get to do this again?" So now I'm enjoying it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Been hanging out with my friends and just having a good time, enjoying each other's company and making each other laugh. 4th of July was eh. Didn't do much....watched some fireworks and shot some fireworks off but it was alright. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Other than that, just waiting to see what job some one beats down my door to give me;) I'm thinking if all else doesn't come through, maybe I'll become a teacher. Can't go wrong with all the vacation! Peace out ya'll.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112067524826454303?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112067524826454303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112067524826454303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112067524826454303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112067524826454303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/no-news-is-good-newsright.html' title='No news is good news....right;)?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-112032756297076709</id><published>2005-07-02T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T11:06:02.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, the humanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Seems that so much has changed now. My life has taken a turn in a completely different direction. Sadly, that job that I was hoping for fell through. Not sure what happened except that everytime the guy called me, he called when I was "working" at my other job. I think he gave up, despite the fact that I left him a message explaining the situation. Guess I wasn't supposed to have that one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I had an interview with the newspaper here, looks good but who knows. Won't know til next week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The biggest thing on my mind right now is what happened last weekend. A very, very dear and good friend of ours was killed in a car accident. He was my best friend's younger brother's best friend. They were inseparable, but we were all so close. When something like that hits so close to home it stirs up so much. Love between friends, sadness too, and a realization that all those times you know that you're guilty of driving when you probably shouldn't could end up tragic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He was 26.  He was full of life and the happiest person I've ever known. I guess at least that is somewhat of a comfort, to know that he enjoyed every second and didn't waste one minute of his shortened life. I'm worried for my friend's brother (who is like my brother) and pray that he is okay and makes it through this.  He's a strong person, but I can't see how I would handle losing my best friend in the whole world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He wasn't driving, he was in the backseat. The kid (21 years old) driving was probably speeding in the little sports car their other friend let him drive. He ran head on into a utility pole. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt in the back (do most people?). The two people in the front are now quadraplegic.  In a terrible way, our friend got off easy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, that's what has been happening around here. I know time will heal, but I just wish it would hurry up. I hope that at least now people (my friends especially) will learn from this and not take stupid chances.  I know it has awakened me. It just sucks that it takes losing a dear friend to learn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'll keep writing here off and on, so don't stop checking to see if I posted.  I miss you blogger friends...I need a job so I can start blogging again;) See ya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-112032756297076709?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/112032756297076709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=112032756297076709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112032756297076709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/112032756297076709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/07/oh-humanity.html' title='Oh, the humanity'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111929903085081405</id><published>2005-06-20T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T13:23:50.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I could get used to this</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Man, it's been soooooo long since I've NOT had a job, I didn't remember what it felt like. I've pretty much worked non-stop for 14 years (although not all of the jobs were 8-5 types). Yes, I technically have a "job", but not really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's nice being able to sleep in, get up and go to the gym, go to the pool, that kind of thing. I'm living in some kind of fantasy land where people don't work and spend all day doing fun stuff. I know I'm gonna be sad when I have to give up the life of luxury to go back to work, so I'm enjoying it while it lasts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ya know, these past few weeks, when I've been doing all of these things, I see people out during the day and I wonder "Do they not have to work?" "Do they have someone to take care of them or do they just magically have money?" Damn those people! Damn them!!;)  Oh how I could live that life and be just fine and dandy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On the job front, I'm waiting back to hear from the guy about the ad agency job. He's supposed to call back today and I think it looks pretty good! He has called all my references (because they called me and told me;) and he called on Friday but I was at "work" and couldn't answer. Keep your fingers crossed! Bad thing is, I don't know what it pays so I'm hoping it's at least decent.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, that's it for now...see you guys on the flip side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111929903085081405?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111929903085081405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111929903085081405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111929903085081405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111929903085081405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-could-get-used-to-this.html' title='I could get used to this'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111878890219350092</id><published>2005-06-14T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T15:41:42.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whooooo are you? Whowho whowho?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Seems like everything is so crazy right now! I mean, I'm enjoying myself immensely, don't get me wrong. What's gonna suck is when I have to go back to the 8-5 life after having the days off to go the pool and to the movies and everything. Feels like I'm living in a dream world. We went to the Country Club today and it's like being in paradise. It was awesome. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, as far as Denver is concerned, I don't know if it's going to happen.  There are too many things that fell through already and since my friend would have to take a $9K pay cut and I can't afford to live by myself out there right now, that we'd try to save up cash and maybe try somewhere else that pays teachers more. SO, I think Denver's out. I'm kinda sad but I think everything that keeps happening is definitely meant to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I had an interview yesterday that went smashingly! Super cool place and cool people. I guess I just need to keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best:)! If that doesn't come through, I've still got some ideas up my sleeve:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh man, I've gotta talk about what happened to me on Sunday night...I totally forgot!  An ex-boyfriend of mine came into town this past weekend. I haven't seen him in years but we've still remained friends and keep in touch somewhat. Well, he called me and we all decided we'd hang out at my friend B's house. So, Matt (the ex) shows up and we're all drinkin', hangin' out, and having a good time. Now, Matt was always a bit on the strange side but pretty cool nonetheless. He's been married and has a kid (divorced now though). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, he says "Where are you going home tonight?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Where am I going home? What do you mean?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Where are you going?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Uhh, I'm going to stay at my parents house."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I thought that was pretty strange just the way he was asking, so I had to totally dodge the situation and I walked away. Then, a little later he starts acting really crazy. He was pulling the refrigerator out and hanging on the door frames, slamming doors, jumping around...all sorts of crazy stuff. So, I thought that was our cue to leave (my friend Toni and I). So, I say we're leaving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Matt says "Well, hey Kelbel, I'm gonna go home with you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: "Uhhh, no you're not."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: "Yeah, come on, don't be a p*ssy. I'm gonna go home with you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: "This has nothing to do with being a p*ssy, you're not going home with me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: "Yeah, I'll just go with you."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Are you hearing me? That's a NO."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So he goes to the bathroom and I'm looking at my friends like "What the Fick?!?!" So Toni and Matt walk out the door and I stood talking to B for a minute. Then I walk out and Toni gives Matt a hug and says "Bye, call us tomorrow." I say bye to him and he looks at me and says "Whatever." I was like "Ok then, well drive carefully." Again, he says "Whatever."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We were pretty much freaking out because of how he was acting.  Toni and I get in the car and lock the doors. He gets in his car and pulls up behind us, blocking us.  Then he goes forward, then reverse, then forward, then reverse...over and over. We finally get out of the driveway and he still doing that and almost hits us about 3 times. We get to the end of the street and he stops at the stop sign, gets out of his car, and comes to try and open my door.  Thank goodness it was locked. So I looked at him, said "Later", and drove around his car and through the stop sign.  A minute later I look in my rearview mirror and see a cop pulled up next to his car. I was thinking he was definitely going to get a DUI...they probably saw what he was doing.  Then the cop drives off.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A few minutes later I see headlights in my rearview mirror.  Cop.  Lights go on. I pull into a Circle K and THREE cop cars block us in.  My friend and I are freakin'. He comes to the window and tells me to turn off my car and hand him my license. Then he says there was an incident where an SUV ran from the police on (B's street name).  I have an SUV.  They were talking about us.  The cops thought we were running from them!! I was so shaky and freaked out but I told him that was a complete mistake and we weren't running.  Told him the story and he lets us go, thank goodness.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Matt has called me about 8 times in the past 2 days and I'm pretty sure I'll never speak to the psycho again.  What's odd is that he acted like nothing happened.  Left a message saying "Hope you didn't get arrested, ha ha." WTF?! He's crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So that's what's been going on with me so far.  All is well and I'm pretty damn happy actually!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111878890219350092?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111878890219350092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111878890219350092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111878890219350092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111878890219350092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/06/whooooo-are-you-whowho-whowho.html' title='Whooooo are you? Whowho whowho?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111847001663351875</id><published>2005-06-10T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T23:06:56.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Truckin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So weird being out of the blogger loop! Well, makin' some fast cash waiting tables...not too bad actually.  Probably more than I'd make sitting at a damn desk, how sad is that?  I guess the part that sucks is when I see people that I know casually and they look at me like "Wow, still wating tables." or "How sad" but seriously, screw 'em. And actually that only happened once and it was a girl that sucks anyway;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In a bit of a predicament and not sure what to do at this point though.  My friend that I'm trying to move with is a teacher and she found out that teachers in Denver start at about $9K less than what she's making now. If she doesn't go, then I'm left in a bind because then I can't afford to live by myself out there yet. So, I'm just saving money and trying to figure something out. My friend got another job and so she said that I could pretty much have her old job (although not at as much as she made). I also got called for an interview with an advertising agency here.  The job is pretty awesome and what I want, but do I take it and stay here a little longer (since I know getting into an agency is kind of difficult) or do I take the job doing something I'm not really very thrilled about in Denver and then look? So confusing right now. Seems strange how drastically life can change in the blink of an eye....or the phasing out of a department. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Regardless, I'm in good spirits. The restaurant I'm working at is great and there are some people that I already know working there and they're cool.  Fun too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What to do, what to do? In the end, I know that whatever I decide will be the path I'm meant for and things will work out great. That's all that matters. I have no regrets and feel pretty lucky in all of this actually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111847001663351875?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111847001663351875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111847001663351875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111847001663351875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111847001663351875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/06/still-truckin.html' title='Still Truckin&apos;'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111817802630842188</id><published>2005-06-07T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T14:00:26.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions, decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I'm back from Denver...at least in body, not really in mind or spirit.  We had a fabulous time! My friend lives on Capitol Hill so we were in the heart of everything.  We went to Morrison and to Red Rocks, we ate and drank as much as possible, saw hotties upon hotties, went to a Rockies/Reds game, oh....and we looked at apartments.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friend and I are moving to Denver! This was a sign. My two friends that live there have a myriad of possible job opportunities for me. My friend that wants to move with me is a teacher...so her process for getting a new job is a bit more lengthy.  We're going to try to move in our new apartment by August 1st, but there are so many variables right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;First, I have no money saved and neither does she. I either have to stay here and (ick!) wait tables to save up and pay bills or go to Denver ahead of my friend, if I get this job that I'm thinking I have a great shot at, and stay with my friend that lives there. If I do that, I'll still need to get a job waiting tables for awhile because I have no money to pay bills and stuff and I probably wouldn't get paid for awhile. My head is spinning....but I'm doing it. I realize it's something I've got to do. I just wish I had money saved or could make some quick.  It's going to happen though!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Our apartment is SOO cute too! It's also on Capitol Hill and in one of those high rises. We've got all the amenities that our friends don't (A/C, W/D, pool, full gym) at a superb price. I'm so excited but I need to focus. I have a waiting job that I'm pretty sure I have nailed, so I'm going to start doing that now at least.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I'm doing great (although a bit stressed) and thanks to everyone for your concern:)  Things really do happen for a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111817802630842188?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111817802630842188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111817802630842188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111817802630842188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111817802630842188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/06/decisions-decisions.html' title='Decisions, decisions'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111767642186327210</id><published>2005-06-01T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T18:40:21.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be careful what you wish for</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, kids. I did get my wish...to stop working there. But not because I left on my own. They sorta shoved me. I wasn't "dooced", I was "downsized". Yep, so no more stories about how my boss sucks or how work is crap because...well I don't have a job! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I am managing to make light of the situation as a) I hated it there b) I hated my boss and c) There must be a reason for this, right (please say right!). I've got a lot of people trying to help me out and so it's always good to know that in times of trouble there are people who will do anything for you. It's comforting, although doesn't pay much;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm still going to Denver this weekend, guess I'll go out with a bang huh?! I need it, and besides, my friend out there is always saying I should move and she'll get me a job. Time to put my money where her mouth is! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The thing that gets me, that really kicked me right in the stomach, was that my boss still had a job as of today. I don't think he'll have one for much longer, especially since I got a phone call telling me how NOTHING was getting done and people are freakin' out about stuff.  HA HA. I don't give a fuck!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And just so you all know, I'm fine. Taking it rather well I'd say...I just need to find something quick so I can make some cash to pay my billy bills. I'll probably be back to blogging on Monday since I'm leaving tomorrow so hopefully by then I'll have some good news?!?! Wishful thinking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111767642186327210?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111767642186327210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111767642186327210&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111767642186327210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111767642186327210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/06/be-careful-what-you-wish-for.html' title='Be careful what you wish for'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111755996326740472</id><published>2005-05-31T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T10:19:23.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green eggs and my boss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I do not like him, not one bit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I do not like him, that piece of shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I do not trust him worth a damn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I do not trust him like I don't trust spam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He does not care about this place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He only cares about saving face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He kisses butt to no end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He kisses butt, yet calls them a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I cannot stand him anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to throw him off the 4th floor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to punch him in the eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to scream and yell and cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I hate him, hate him, yes I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I need to quit before I go cuckoo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I cannot take it another day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I wish, I wish he'd go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What a idiot piece of crap. Got to get off early yesterday...a whole 10 minutes early.  Whoopdiddydoo!  That bastard was gone the ENTIRE day who knows where while I sat here hungover and pissed off. He shows up at 5:15 pm and tells me I can go home "early". So, I went home, went to my friend's house for the party that had already been going on for hours that I should have been at hours before, and proceeded to get rid of my hangover the good ol fashioned way. Took me a while to wind down from work because I had gotten in such a bad mood, but I finally was able to enjoy myself. During the course of the night, these things happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Did some 80's dancing to "Love is a Battlefield."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Performed as a backup dancer for Elvis (aka my friend R).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Participated in an all-party shirt swap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Played telephone with a ton of people and kept ending up with the phrase "Peter Pan likes it in the can."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;All in all, it turned out pretty fun.  Apparently, I have so much alcohol in my system (from drinking Thurs-Mon straight) that I am now immune to the hangover I should have today. Maybe I should just keep this up;) AA...here I come. Not really...AA is for quitters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111755996326740472?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111755996326740472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111755996326740472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111755996326740472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111755996326740472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/green-eggs-and-my-boss.html' title='Green eggs and my boss'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111746558056312188</id><published>2005-05-30T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T08:50:51.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This Monday double sucks. Yes, I am about to bitch about being here at work right now while everyone is possibly still sleeping or lazing about or getting ready to start drinking. I am here at work...my boss is not here. That stupid fucko better come in today or I will personally kick his dumb ass. His laptop is not here and he NEVER takes it anywhere, so that makes me suspicious. OOOhh...if he doesn't come in today....I can't even imagine what I will do!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes, I am hungover. What would you expect for me to do on a pseudo-weekend night? Stay home? Even with the knowledge that I did indeed have to work today, that didn't stop me from consuming 3 jumbo-sized Crown and 7's. I feel like complete ass. See, we got some free tickets to see....get this...The Doobie Brothers. Now, I know some of you youngins may be asking..."What's a doobie brother?" Well, I (for the life of me) couldn't remember any of their songs. My friend wanted to know what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;they sang and I was at a loss. I knew that I KNEW them....I was drawing a blank. So, what do we do in this day and age when we can't think of something? That's right, we google it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find their discography and as I was going through it, I kept thinking "I didn't know they sang that song. I didn't know that was them." But alas, it was. And they pulled out such songs (that you may remember from such late night infomercials for Rock 'N Roll's Greatest Hits of All Time or something of the sort) as:&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is Just Alright (dododododo..do do dodododo x2 Jesus is just alright with meeee, Jesus is just alright, oh yeah)&lt;br /&gt;China Grove (Well, you’re talkin’ ’bout china grove....oh oh oh, oooh oooh, China Grove)&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the Music (Oh oh oh, Listen to the music&lt;br /&gt;Rockin' Down the Highway (Ooooh, rockin' down the highway)&lt;br /&gt;Black Water (Old black water, keep on rollin’...Mississippi moon, won’t you keep on shinin’ on me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now (besides the last one, which I think is the best of them all) notice a pattern? There's more "oh" in these songs than in....well, Spaghetti O's. And we know those are chock full of "o"s. But it was quite entertaining and fun to dance to....especially after 3 troughs of crown and 7. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;At the end of the show, we're standing there finishing drinks and people are taking pee breaks, when this balding, wanna-be-20 4o something man and his greying, 50 something friend walk up to us and say "What's the big idea looking all sexy?" Gross. Seriously man. Gross. We looked at him with amusement and a smidgen of disgust but he would not let up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: You girls are hot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (blank stare....ie gothefuckaway)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Where you all goin' after this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Can we come with you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (Surprised and seriously grossed out) Yeah, I'll meet you there (laughing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Come on, I'm a 40 year old man with lots of assets and I need someone to take them from me when I kill myself from partying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: What kind of assets? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: I own property all over the place, own a bar, 5 houses...lots of stuff. I always get excited when I see young girls looking all hot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: You are a pig...that is wrong. So wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Like 14 or 15 year olds...ones that look like they're 20 or so...damn. That's why you girls are so hot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Sorry buddy, looks like I'm too old for you (totally disgusted and trying to get away)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Well, can I have a hug?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Nope...sorry. I don't just give away hugs to anyone (especiallynotgrossdisgustingpervslikeyou).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Come on, I'm harmless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;His Friend: He is harmless...like a teddybear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: My hugs are sacred and not free to the public. Gotta go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Well, at least come by my new bar. It's (in the slummiest part of town). Come by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yeah, we'll be right there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What a disgusting piece of trash. Other than that though....it was a blast. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And that, my vacation day friends, is all she wrote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111746558056312188?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111746558056312188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111746558056312188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111746558056312188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111746558056312188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/oh.html' title='Oh'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111723361873768004</id><published>2005-05-27T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T15:43:34.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Triumph</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm sure many of you know who Triumph the Insult Comic Dog is, right? Well....for those of you who can't stand Star Wars or like to laugh at the Star Wars geeks...you will get a big kick out of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://gamefiles.blueyonder.co.uk/blueyondergames/trailers/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(scroll down and click on ROFL.STARWARS.NERDS.wmv). That's my cheap Friday late ass post. Everyone have a great Memorial Day weekend! Me, mine will suck, but whatever. C'est la vie!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111723361873768004?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111723361873768004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111723361873768004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111723361873768004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111723361873768004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/triumph.html' title='Triumph'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111714020782747316</id><published>2005-05-26T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T13:43:27.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Professor Knowitall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've decided what I want to be when I grow up. I'm going to be a Professor. A college Professor that is. A nurterer and molder of young minds. A bringer of knowledge. A giver of grades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;How many kids could I get to believe every word I say? To hang on my every thought? To follow me around the room with their eyes and their minds?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Think of how many kids I could instill my knowledge upon.  I could unteach them everything they ever learned before...because let's face it, their teachers didn't know anything. I know it all! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I could use the lines my teachers use to use....you know like "Look at these tests...not one of you passed! You guys couldn't even pass gas!" Even if people in the class did pass, I would fail them just so I could say that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'd make up my own grade scale and then change it all the time. I teach a class in history and then make them read fiction novels and make them believe they were true. I'd teach philosophy and talk of great philosophers like Homer Simpson and Play-doh. I'd teach a class in architectural design and make them use the etch-a-sketch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh, I can't wait to start my new endeavour!! Think of all the young minds I will be able to screw with so they don't take all the good jobs and so when I get fired from being Professor Smartypants, I still have a chance at employment.  Ooh, and then when my ex students come to me for a job I can say "What are you kidding?  You don't know anything. Hell no I won't hire you....dummy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111714020782747316?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111714020782747316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111714020782747316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111714020782747316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111714020782747316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/professor-knowitall.html' title='Professor Knowitall'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111713513070009175</id><published>2005-05-26T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T12:18:50.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick on the uptake</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ok, remember what I was talking about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-have-new-word.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;?  Well, I &lt;em&gt;knew &lt;/em&gt;it would catch on quick!!  Check &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msn.americangreetings.com/display.pd?bfrom=3&amp;prodnum=3003762&amp;amp;path=23365&amp;source=msne110&amp;amp;GT1=6436"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; out.  Talk about fast...today is BOB DAY!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I just had to post this...I mean, that's too perfect.  So to everyone everywhere...HAPPY BOB DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On another note, is it me or is this week just&lt;em&gt; dragging&lt;/em&gt;? Yeah, I know it's Thursday but it has taken forever to get to this point and it's not even &lt;em&gt;Friday &lt;/em&gt;yet.  And to all of you peeps who get Memorial Day off (like normal people) enjoy your day.  I'll be at work because my job sucks.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111713513070009175?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111713513070009175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111713513070009175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111713513070009175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111713513070009175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/quick-on-uptake.html' title='Quick on the uptake'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111705543225283027</id><published>2005-05-25T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T14:10:32.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barefoot socks "friend's mom"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That's the search term that brought someone to my blog. Uhhh....what in the hell does that even mean?  What was that person really looking for? And how in the hell does that phrase occur on my blog?  Don't know really.  I was also found when someone searched for the "50 states and capitals"...I don't even remember posting about this stuff.  Anyway...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Once upon a time there was an annoying little girl.  This annoying little girl (ALG) just happened to be in the same movie theatre as Princess BelKel(name changed to protect the innocent) when the princess went to see a certain movie... we'll call it War Stars.  Now, by the behavior of ALG you would think she showed up at the theatre solo (no, not Han Solo...Sans Han, wtf am I talking about?) but in fact, ALG was with annoying-mother-who-doesn't-pay-attention-to-her-kid-and-lets-her-cell-phone-go-off-in-the-middle-of-the-movie (here on known as AM) and grandfather.  ALG spent the ENTIRE movie hopping up and down the stairs near princess BK and her friend.  Sliding down the railing. She had on those damn shoes with the lights that flash on and off.  She was making noise.  I have never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life. Fantasized about saying to AM "Oh, you got your tickets for free?" AM "No." "Well neither did I...so tell your kid to sit down and watch the movie or leave!!!"  It was one of the worst experiences of princess BK's life and I've never seen anyone as stupid as AM.  The End.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This is the story of Subway man. Subway man pissed me the hell off today.  See...I drive into the Subway parking lot and this bastard zips right in and parks next to the spot I was going for.  No biggie right? Wrong.  He parked so bobbed up that I couldn't get into the space next to him.  So, Subway man gets out of his car, decked out in black turtleneck, black pants, and black jacket (it's over 100 degrees today, wtf?) and holds his hand up for me to stop so he can walk in front of my car.  Yep.  The nerve! So then I park way far away and walk in the smoldering heat to whet my appetite.  Get in and of course he's in front of me, taking FOREVER!! Not only that, but he got the last of the wheat bread and they had run out of turkey! Who the hell runs out of turkey?! Of course, that was the sandwich I wanted and Subway man got the last of those.  Then, of all the tables in the entire Subway that were open...he takes the table by the window, the one I always sit at when I eat there, the bastard.  I hate Subway man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111705543225283027?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111705543225283027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111705543225283027&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111705543225283027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111705543225283027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/barefoot-socks-friends-mom.html' title='Barefoot socks &quot;friend&apos;s mom&quot;'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111705231714118690</id><published>2005-05-25T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T13:18:37.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a multi-slacker</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Some people multi-task...I've been multi-slacking all day.  It's nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It has taken me too long to post this, so now since I was tagged by the ever-so-lovely &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://theprettieststar.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...I will finally oblige.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Films&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Total number of films I own on dvd?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not sure, about 12?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The last film I bought?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Garden State and Napoleon Dynamite (together)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The last film I watched on TV?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Office Space (LOVE this movie)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In the cinema?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Kicking and Screaming (Will Farrell is hilarious)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Five films that I watch a lot or mean a lot to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Love Actually...I just love this movie and it gives me the warm fuzzies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. The Exorcist...I'm a horror movie freak and can't get enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. Garden State...Need I even explain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. Napoleon Dynamite...Again, no explanation necessary except that I absolutely LOVE this movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. The Last Time I Committed Suicide...If you have not seen this, I highly recommend it.  It brings back memories of people and times long gone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Honestly folks, I can't really shorten it to 5...I watch movies on a constant basis over and over and over. I love movies and can never get enough. I watch them every chance I get. I feel like I've left so many out (and I have) but those popped into my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111705231714118690?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111705231714118690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111705231714118690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111705231714118690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111705231714118690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-multi-slacker.html' title='I&apos;m a multi-slacker'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111697126104353440</id><published>2005-05-24T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T14:47:41.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you, please drive through.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There is so much running through my head right now, I can't even focus on one specific thing. I feel a bit stressed, sad, loopy, tired, and bland all at the same time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not sure where each feeling is stemming from, but here's my analysis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stressed:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In a nutshell, my job.  I mean, not so much that I'm going to lose it (my job that is, my sanity I just might) because really I'm at a point where I could give 2 shits. I hate my job as you know but not the job itself, but where I'm at and how I'm working for.  The type of job and the stuff I have to do (most of it, not the bitch stuff) I like. Recently, we've pretty much had our entire management staff replaced....except flaky, stupid boss.  Why? Because he kisses ass like nobody else.  I know he's living in constant fear though.  I've just been so much busier lately and have had so much more to do it seems and I'm feeling the stress.  Apparently by Friday, spring cleaning will be done and we'll know who's here to stay.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sad:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This is a tougher one. I think I'm sad because really my life sucks right now. My professional life and my "love" life. Waa waa... I know. I'm not like completely depressed or anything, I just get like I know we all do at times.  We watch a movie or read something or whatever and see other people happy with their lives, jobs, significant others and we envy that.  We want it.  Grass is always greener syndrome I suppose.  I guess my problem is I always feel like I'm waiting for something.  No one can make something happen for me but me.  Still, I know this and sometimes I'm totally fine...and then I have my sad days.  Guess this is just a sad day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Loopy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I really don't get where this is coming from...I guess kind of like a delirious type feeling that gives you the sillies.  I feel a little ridiculous. I too am wondering how I can feel silly and sad at the same time...don't really know.  It's just kinda there, lingering in my rearview mirror.  Popping into my peripheral every so often.  The wave of ridiculousness.  Like when I walk through a certain dept here and this guy (that always tells me I walk too fast thus walking "loudly")happens to be at the front, so I stomp my way through...making my footsteps especially loud and hard, just to be dumb.  It makes me laugh, don't really know why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tired:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The tiredness probably comes from staying up late last night to go see (here it comes) Revenge of the Sith. I won't say anything else about it except I thought it was good, and a bit depressing (maybe part of the sadness too?). Yeah, I KNEW he becomes Darth Vader but I was still sad about it.  Anyway, that's why tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Bland:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This could be a combination of all the feelings at exactly the same time?  You know, like when you mix a bunch of different colors together and you end up with this gross brown?  Maybe that happens with emotions too? I just feel like I don't give a crap about anything right now, you know?  Nothing is fun, nothing to be excited about, nothing is interesting. I feel zombiefied.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So there you have it.  That's me today and I could go on and on and ramble about things, but I think that's enough for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111697126104353440?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111697126104353440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111697126104353440&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111697126104353440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111697126104353440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/thank-you-please-drive-through.html' title='Thank you, please drive through.'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111686550774710826</id><published>2005-05-23T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T09:25:07.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>S-M-ooth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I just wish I could be in a professional situation and not come out looking like a retard sometimes.  I mean, it doesn't happen &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; the time....or really often at all, but just at inopportune times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Lunch.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My boss, 2 women from the TV station, me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Nice restaurant, one I frequent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Appetizer- Jalapeno Cheese Dip (awesome).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, they order the appetizer and it's one that I always get. I have a way I eat certain things...with this one if you add the Jalapeno Tabasco to it after you dip the chip in it, it's oh so savory.  So, I'm sitting there talking to everyone at the table about super professional stuff.  My boss had ordered a Heineken.  So, I grab the Tabasco and pour it on my chip....except, it's not the Tabasco at all.  It's the bobbin' Heineken!  Yep, totally poured my bosses beer ALL OVER MYSELF!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hey, what can I say...they're in the same color bottle.  I wasn't paying close attention.  He had put his beer in my Tabasco space.  Everyone at the table and all nearby tables were laughing hysterically.  Yes, even me.  I actually could not stop laughing for a good 5 minutes.  See, once I start laughing, it's really hard to stop.  And when I do stop, if I think about it again a few minutes later, I'll bust out laughing again.  My boss just looked at me like "What in the hell are you doing?"  He didn't realize I had been using the Tabasco and so was totally flabbergasted at my beer move.  Classic.  There went my credibility!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111686550774710826?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111686550774710826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111686550774710826&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111686550774710826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111686550774710826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/s-m-ooth.html' title='S-M-ooth'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111662986170414256</id><published>2005-05-20T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T15:57:41.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you get confused, listen to the music play</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://confessionsofachristian.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Amberlynn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; passed me the torch and so now it's my turn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Total volume of music files on my computer?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know. I lost most of my music in a computer crash. I had a TON of music, although I'm really really bad at estimations. I had most of it burned onto cds, but all of it was lost from my machine. That'll teach me to backup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The last CD I bought was?&lt;br /&gt;I recently went on a CD shopping spree. I bought:&lt;br /&gt;In between dreams- Jack Johnson, Guero- Beck, Live at Myrtle Beach- Widespread Panic, Live from Mars (my first one was ruined)- Ben Harper, The Hustle- G Love and Special Sauce, O- Damien Rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Song playing right now:&lt;br /&gt;Rodeo Clowns- G Love and Jack Johnson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Five songs I listen to a lot or that mean a lot to me(in no particular order):&lt;br /&gt;1. Pilgrims- Widespread Panic&lt;br /&gt;2. Let's Stay Together- Al Green&lt;br /&gt;3. Crush- Dave Matthews Band&lt;br /&gt;4. Blue Sky- The Allman Brothers&lt;br /&gt;5. Cocoon- Jack Johnson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Which 5 people are you passing this baton to, and why?&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mrsrobinsonsneighbor.blogspot.com/" target="_”blank”"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Luke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- Because I know he is a music freak&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://everydirection.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;That Girl&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; I know all of her answers will include DMB;)&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://martinilove.blogspot.com/" target="_”blank”"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Martini&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; I know she's got some good taste&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://thegolfmerchant.blogspot.com/" target="_”blank”"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Blue&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Because I'm interested to know the range of what he listens to&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://theprettieststar.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Because she seems so diverse in her music choices...I'm just curious about her favorites. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Keep in mind that you guys don't &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to do this.  I won't get my feelings hurt:)  I mean, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;fine be that way;)&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111662986170414256?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111662986170414256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111662986170414256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111662986170414256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111662986170414256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/if-you-get-confused-listen-to-music.html' title='If you get confused, listen to the music play'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111660330501330837</id><published>2005-05-20T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T08:35:05.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a new word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I discovered a new word this weekend that could be used just like fickin', or freakin', or friggin', or fuckin'.  And any variation of those words.  My new word?  Bob.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know what you're thinking.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"KelBel...Bob isn't a new word.  Bob has been around for ages...and not only isn't it a new word, it's also a name that has been around forever."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, you would be right...sort of.  You see, in the sense that I will be using it, it is totally new.  How did this come about, you wonder?  I'll tell you using (of course) the dialogue which brought about this new word that kids will be using all over the world in no time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm sitting with my (guy)friend who came in town this past weekend.  We have been friends for about 8 years and tend to act a little ridiculous around each other, and usually our comments are filled with sarcasm.  We were talking about stupid things that we could do (stupid things that have no significance and are pretty much pointless).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Friend: Check it out, I can whistle while moving my ears and eyebrows (who cares right?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Very proud of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: What?! (flabbergasted)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (puzzled) I said, "Very proud of you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Oh, oh ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: What did you think I said?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: "Very Bob of you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Very Bob of you???  That doesn't even make sense! (In a mocking voice) "That was very &lt;em&gt;Bob&lt;/em&gt; of you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: That's so stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Actually, I think I'm gonna use that.  Think about it, it could become the new slang word.  Kids all over the world will be like "Hey man, that's bobbin'.  That's like, totally bob."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: You are so ridiculous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: No, seriously! I'm totally using it now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I have been using it ever since.  It's a word that can be used in any sense.  Like instead of staying "That's so freakin' cool..."  they'll be saying "That's so bobbin' cool."  It's gonna stick I tell you.  And then, when everyone becomes accustomed to it...I'm gonna change it. That's how I will rule the world. HAPPY FRIDAY!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111660330501330837?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111660330501330837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111660330501330837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111660330501330837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111660330501330837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-have-new-word.html' title='I have a new word'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111653516076061947</id><published>2005-05-19T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T13:42:09.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Times....they are a changin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Whoa Nelly!! Talk about "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.whomovedmycheese.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Who moved my cheese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;" Moved it? I think someone ate that nasty, foot smellin', hunk of rotten milk. I can't even find it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;See, things are advancing at a rapid pace around here. Changing, moving, &lt;em&gt;evolving&lt;/em&gt;...so to speak. Now, I'm not allergic to change...as a matter of fact, I kinda like to change things up every so often to break the monotony. Problem is, is this change for the better? For me anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;New guy comes in, new General Sales Manager. My boss likened him to Jesus practically. Whatever. Apparently he's good. Thing is, the owner of our company really has the final say in what happens around here. Or at least he did until yesterday when this guy came in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So this new GSM is making changes left and right. We're going to do this this way and that that way, yadda yadda yadda. We're going to revamp the way we market, change the way the ads look, and blah blah blah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Uh...ummm...hey boss, isn't that our job? Aren't we the ones that have been doing that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;See, traditionally businesses in this industry do not have an in-house advertising agency. It was a new thing they are/were trying. Typically, the GSMs design the ads, come up with campaigns, and they have a 3rd party agency that does all the artwork and TV and radio spots. Now, since this guy is so used to doing it his way, and he has in fact been given free reign to do whatever the hell he wants, now I fear for my job. I saw on my bosses computer that he was working on his resume. Interesting. (No, I wasn't snooping. My computer was acting up. Well, it just happened to be glaring at me as the most recent document being worked on.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny thing was, my boss was the owner's lap dog. I think that's why he's been kept around. Now that the owner got a new prize puppy...the mutt that is my boss may be out on the streets. Now, where does that leave me? Don't know. I have some valuable assets that might force them to keep me here (until I can find another job, that is. I don't care about this one except as a means to pay bills while I look elsewhere) so I'm not really sure where that leaves me. I do the Web stuff and I'm well-versed in our CRM software. No one else knows how to do this. Does that give me a sense of security? NO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This place doesn't give two shits about their employees. I can tell you that much. I don't care about losing this job, just about losing it before I can replace it. So I'm not confident that GSM sees our department as a necessity. He's been somewhere and been very successful without an in house agency. This company has been very successful in the past without one. We are pretty much expendable. And under scrutiny. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, the majority of this is speculation. I could be inventing my very own "conspiracy theory", but I don't think so. You know that feeling? THE feeling. I've got that. I'm just trying to do all that I can to portray a sense of importance right now, and get out while I can. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This is not the kind of change I like. Not when the change is me and the unemployment office is the vending machine. Surprisingly, I'm not super stressed or freaking out. I'm pretty much "whatever" about the whole thing. Guess I just gotta see what happens. If I panic, then I won't act in an educated way. I'll just go with the flow:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111653516076061947?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111653516076061947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111653516076061947&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111653516076061947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111653516076061947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/timesthey-are-changin.html' title='Times....they are a changin&apos;'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111645218853427489</id><published>2005-05-18T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T14:36:28.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitch Duty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh yes kiddies, bitch duty has begun. Well, kind of anyway. Now, when I say "bitch", I don't mean it in any of the following terms:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;bitch (bch)n.&lt;br /&gt;1. A female canine animal, especially a dog.&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;. Offensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;     a. A woman considered to be spiteful or overbearing.&lt;br /&gt;     b. A lewd woman.&lt;br /&gt;     c. A man considered to be weak or contemptible.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;Slang&lt;/em&gt;. A complaint.&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;em&gt;Slang&lt;/em&gt;. Something very unpleasant or difficult. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;When I say "bitch" I mean personal slave, errand girl, basically I do anything anyone asks me to just short of wiping ass. So, I hate my job more intensely than anything I've ever hated....&lt;em&gt;ever.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The guy from the newspaper is bringing me an application and is going to push my resume through to the director.  So, cross your fingers people.  Maybe in a few weeks I can have my very own, brand new bitch...instead of being someone else's.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;BTW, I apologize in advance for sounding like a whiny little brat but I'm about to lose my mind and go postal on this mutha. Thanks for understanding:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111645218853427489?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111645218853427489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111645218853427489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111645218853427489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111645218853427489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/bitch-duty.html' title='Bitch Duty'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111634362005623382</id><published>2005-05-17T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T08:27:00.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you DO here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know every so often I post a bitch about work, my boss, the people here, the money (or lack thereof)....this post is no different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So yesterday I get out of my meeting and my boss walks up to me. I know I post lots of conversations but frankly, who gives a crap;)? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: We need to find out what (bitchface who is pregnant and leaving and is a clerk...here on referred to as just bitchface) does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: WE need to find out what she does?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Ok, you need to find out what she does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: And why is that? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: So that when she's gone we will be able to still do what she's doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: WE huh?  Are you trying to tell me that I'm taking &lt;em&gt;this &lt;/em&gt;over too????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Well, maybe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Oh, no.  That's fine. I'll just go ahead and do the jobs of 4 people.  That's cool really. I have all the time in the world. Oh...and PLEASE don't pay me anymore. I couldn't possibly ask for anymore money. I wonder how many jobs I can take on actually?  You know what we should do?!?! Let's fire all the salespeople too!! We don't need them, I mean I'm here. I can do &lt;em&gt;everyone's&lt;/em&gt; jobs! Wouldn't that be great?! And I could work for FREE!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: (just staring at me blankly) Oh, well....uh.  This is the perfect opportunity to get more money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: WHAT?  That is such crap. You know as well as I do that I'm not going to get shit. This is ridiculous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So now kids, my official job title at work is Web Manager Client Relations Manager Marketing Administrator Clerk. Has a nice ring to it, no?  I think I might just shorten it to "Bitch" though. Sounds closer to the truth.  Bitter much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111634362005623382?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111634362005623382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111634362005623382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111634362005623382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111634362005623382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/what-do-you-do-here.html' title='What do you DO here?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111626281727148892</id><published>2005-05-16T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T10:09:10.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I wonder....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If all the stupid people in the world have been round up and dropped in this city. I guess I know it's not true because you guys encounter stupid people all the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In an attempt to take my friend from out of town to get the best mexican food in the city, we encountered a real genuine member of the species Idiotus Stupidus Ignoramus. Now folks, don't look too close and try to shut your ears because the sound that originates from this genus of the species will not just hurt your ears, it will hurt your brain. You cannot watch their mouths for fear that your fist will inevitably be attracted to this region of their face. It's frowned upon to punch this species only because of their nature. It's a sad, sad state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, after going to about 4 different restaurants...all of which closed at 8:30 or 9:00 on a Saturday (WTF is wrong with these people?) I decided to call a place to find out how late they were open. It went a little something like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Hello... thank you for calling (name of restaurant). How can I help you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yes, how late are you open tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Open?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Midnight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Midnight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Yes....No 7:00.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: 7:00 (I look at my watch that says 8:50 pm)?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Yes, 7:00.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: So you're closed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: How late are you open tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: 7:00.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: What time do you close?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Midnight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: So you're open until Midnight tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: We open at 7:00.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Ok, thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Holy shit. I don't think anyone that dumb has kept me busy for so long. I mean, I normally would have hung up by the middle of that conversation. I guess what confused her was the "open" in "how late are you open". I guess next time I know not to confuse the species with my fancy language. Geez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111626281727148892?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111626281727148892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111626281727148892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111626281727148892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111626281727148892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/sometimes-i-wonder.html' title='Sometimes I wonder....'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111600640217437845</id><published>2005-05-13T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T10:46:42.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some fools never learn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I must sound like some kinda lush. At least, that's what they were telling me last night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What was the occasion? It was Thurs Day! Need I say more;)? Actually, there's this big golf tournament this weekend (Ray Mickens Champions Fund) and so like 12 former and current NFL players were out at a sports bar here making an appearance. So we made an appearance to get a look at some of these guys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;They all sat and signed autographs and stuff and we just drank and tried to figure out who was who. I know Tony Tolbert was there, and Dat Nguyen, Anthony Dorsett, and some other people I didn't know. We had some beers and took some shots. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, we're about to leave and there was this guy who had been making "eyes" at my friend the whole time. We get up and he flashes her his pearlies and she reciprocates. And then she leaves. And we're standing outside and the guy is still totally staring at her! So I tell her to go talk to him.  She freaks out and can't do it. So I take my friend Richard (who is gay) and go back in. Then I don't have a speech prepared, and this is so 7th grade (Do you think my friend's pretty? Check yes or no) so we walk right past them and go to the bathroom.  Prepare something to say, come back out, and....they're gone.  Oops. Shit. Oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We go to some other bars and have some other drinks, lots of other drinks. We hit 4 more bars I believe, with a few drinks at all of them. Fast forward to last bar. I was drunk. I didn't even want another drink. I just wanted the sweet, beautiful taste of good ol H2O.  So, my friend and I sit at the bar. Here's the way we think:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: I feel bad just ordering water, taking up bar space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: What do you want to do?&lt;br /&gt;Her: Should we just order one drink and share it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Ok, or we could get shots, they're small (WTF?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Ok, what should we get?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Umm...something not too strong. How about an Oatmeal Cookie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, for those of you who don't know what an Oatmeal Cookie is...it has Butterscotch Schnapps, Bailey's (not too bad but probably not the best after all the other stuff), Firewater (ick!), and Jagermeister (ick!). Yeah, that's smart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Her: Ok!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, since we felt SO bad ordering water we ordered shots with each water. Now, if the irony is missed by you, let me 'splain. The fact that I needed water at all means that I &lt;em&gt;definitely&lt;/em&gt; didn't need a shot. But we had a couple. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then, what do you do when you're wasted and done for the night? Go EAT of course! Stupid stupid stupid. First of all, my friend's brother orders a &lt;em&gt;pitcher of margaritas!&lt;/em&gt; WTF? So, we gorged on chile con queso, tortillas, chips, salsa, and fajita tacos. And margaritas.  I don't really remember anything after that. My friend told me I just kept saying "I can't move, I think I'm dying." Yep, one of those nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And here I am, hungover again.  Surprise surprise! I had to go and pick up newspapers and they gave a stack of whole newspapers vs. just the section we're in. I'm lugging what felt like 100 pounds of newspaper down the street in downtown trying to make it to my car without falling into oncoming traffic. Our sales rep at the TV station told me she could smell the liquor. Grrrrrreat! I didn't even leave my house this morning until 8:40! I can't wait 'til today is over!!!! Martini, I'm counting down with you but for different reasons obviously;) 5 hours and 45 minutes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh shit, I just remembered it's Friday the 13th (imagine scary "&lt;em&gt;ree ree ree"&lt;/em&gt; music).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111600640217437845?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111600640217437845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111600640217437845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111600640217437845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111600640217437845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/some-fools-never-learn.html' title='Some fools never learn'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111591957982273515</id><published>2005-05-12T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T10:39:39.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got serious problems</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I mean, I know I tell you all about dreams I have. Some are stupid, some are weird.  Well, this one is just plain...I don't know what. I'm warning you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So my dream began fairly normal.  I was at my friend's house and we were just hanging out.  Then my ex boyfriend (from like 9 years ago) shows up. We're all talking and then he starts trying to kiss me.  I'm backing up, he's coming towards me.  Locks onto my lips and then starts to grab my chest.  I push him away and then we kick him out. Semi-normal I guess.  Now, here's where it get's crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, the guy won't leave me alone. He's calling, he's following me, leaving notes on my car, etc. So what do I do to try and make myself resistable to him? I have a penis implanted on my knee.  Yes, you read right.  I said penis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friend's mom's friend did it. In the backyard. I don't know where this penis came from, but there it was, bright as day, on my knee. It was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.  It was so real. And it was consta-erect. I mean, of course I don't know what it feels like to have a penis (not attached to me, I mean;)) but this was crazy! So, the guy comes over and I'm like "Hey, look what I got!" He looks at it and did he shrink away in disgust? NO! He's like "Whoa, that's crazy.  Cool!" Uh, ok freakazoid.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I'm sitting at home and there it is...sticking out of my knee like some horrible monster (no offense guys) and I started FREAKING out. I was thinking "Oh my god, I'm never going to be able to wear shorts or a skirt again." I'm like a circus freak. WTF was I thinking!! So, I go back to my friends house and tell my friend's mom's friend that she needs to get this shit off me quick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She says she'll try, but doesn't know how to undo an implant...only how to do one. I said I didn't give a crap, just do whatever. So, she gives me an epidural? I mean, I've never had a baby but I don't know that an epidural would be necessary for this type of operation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then, she cuts open my legs and underneath my skin I'm a robot. I know you think I'm making this up, but I'm freakin' serious. So then she's zapping wires together and stuff and I'm feeling little jolts of electricity.  Then all of a sudden, the penis just falls off like it was glued on there or something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What the hell is wrong with my head that I have this absolutely insane dreams!?!? Maybe someone spiked my fruit bowl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111591957982273515?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111591957982273515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111591957982273515&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111591957982273515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111591957982273515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/ive-got-serious-problems.html' title='I&apos;ve got serious problems'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111590955703255562</id><published>2005-05-12T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T07:52:37.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The day we've all been waiting for!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Today is the official Slap Your Irritating Co-workers Holiday: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't give a damn about? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their mouth and see what your boss had for lunch? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious, when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, on behalf of Ike Turner, I am so very very glad to officially announce today as SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY! There are the rules you must follow:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* You can only slap one person per hour - no more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* No weapons are allowed...other than going upside somebody's head with a stapler or a hole-puncher. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* CURSING IS MANDATORY! After you have slapped the recipient, your "assault" must be followed with something like "cause I'm sick of your stupid-a$$ always messing up stuff!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;* If questioned by a supervisor [or police, if the supervisor is the irritant], you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE! Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of and get to slapping.....and have a great day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111590955703255562?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111590955703255562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111590955703255562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111590955703255562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111590955703255562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/day-weve-all-been-waiting-for.html' title='The day we&apos;ve all been waiting for!'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111582519932282323</id><published>2005-05-11T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T08:26:39.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Don't you just hate it when you purchase a brand new Honda and come to find later on out it's really a Pinto in disguise?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I was watching some late night TV last night...I think I landed on the SciFi channel. Anyway, I saw this commercial for something that I really thought was a joke. You know, like those Saturday Night Live spoofs and you're waiting for the punchline? Well, the punchline never came. It displayed a Website, so I thought "I better check it out...see if they weren't just messing with people." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh no, folks.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://counterfeitmini.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;shite is the real deal. I just don't get it I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I mean, how stupid are we in this nation that people can fool us by painting some stripes on a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&amp;item=4541446579"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;VW Rabbit &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and make us think that it's something else? I've never heard of such madness! Who are these people that are getting fooled and who are the geniuses that knew they could get away with this trickery?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, the commercial last night shows the difference between the &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; MINI and the imposters. The real MINI could fit into tight parallel parking spaces...it showed the fake attempting to fit in the same space. Did it? NO! It showed the real MINI on the crash course weaving through the cones with agility and grace. The counterfeit? It knocked the cones down! It shows the counterfeit doing the crash test...and it totally explodes! There's a DVD that shows you how to tell the difference!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Seriously people...these fakes look absolutely NOTHING like a MINI. I just couldn't believe it wasn't a joke. They even showed some guy in one of those chop shops or whatever, talking about it. What is this world coming to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Does this mean I can put some fancy gadgets on my old 1988 Chevrolet Sprint and pass it off as one of the new hybrids?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Disclaimer: Now I realize that no matter what, this has to be a joke because there is no way that people can be so stupid that they think&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://counterfeitmini.org/confiscated_counterfeits.php"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;these&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;are MINI Coopers. At least I hope it's a joke somehow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111582519932282323?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111582519932282323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111582519932282323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111582519932282323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111582519932282323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/fool-me-once-shame-on-you-fool-me.html' title='Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111574090031713999</id><published>2005-05-10T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T09:01:40.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doodle-oodle-oot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You know, like on "Wayne's World" when they go into a dream-type sequence or a flashback? Well, here's a flashback from my high school years because my friends and I were talking about things last night and it brought back a rush of memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doodle-oodle-oot, Doodle-oodle-oot, Doodle-oodle-oot:&lt;br /&gt;Time: Junior year of high school&lt;br /&gt;Place: Going from my house to my friend Sarah's house&lt;br /&gt;Scenario: We were having one of what we called our "dyke parties"(now, don't get the wrong idea...it was just because all 12 of us girls got together for a slumber party, and yes, that does say &lt;em&gt;Junior year&lt;/em&gt;. Hey, we had to make time for the girls and leave the boys at home!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend L and I were going to go over to (aw, hell I'll just use her name) our friend Sarah's house. Now, Sarah was what we liked to call prudish. She didn't ever try any drugs, didn't have sex, only drank on occasion. We all had experimented, and were currently indulging in the occasional hit from the bong. I admit it;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, Sarah didn't like it when we were high around her. She said it made her feel like it was because we couldn't handle her sober. It wasn't that, it's just that her quirks were more hilarious when we were high (vs. annoying). Like, she planned out her outfits a month in advance...we're talking from socks to shoes all the way up to the clip she was going to wear in her hair. Totally coordinated. Very anal. Ok, so on with the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, L and I decide that before we go to Sarah's house we'll have a few hits. So we partake and then proceed to drive to Sarah's. As we're driving, we started realizing how pissed she was going to be. We could already hear the shit we were going to catch.&lt;br /&gt;Then, we of course realize how cool and nonchalant we are.&lt;br /&gt;Me: We can play it off right?&lt;br /&gt;L: Yeah, we're cool. She'll never know&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, we're cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the entire rest of the car ride talking about how cool we are and how she'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we get to Sarah's house and she lived in one of those gated communities. She buzzed us in and was always in the habit of meeting us outside when we drove up. So, we drive up and get out of the car. She walks up to us. Here's how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah:Are you guys stoned?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Us in Unison: NO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sarah: Yes you are!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Us: NO we're not!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sarah: Well, then what's this?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sarah pulls the biggest bud off of L's shirt. How we didn't notice that the entire time that we were talking about how cool we were that we could play it off, I have no idea.  But we busted up laughing.  I think I peed a little. I'm talking rolling around on the cement, crying laughing. Then I noticed Sarah wasn't laughing.  Which made me laugh harder because...that's pretty damn funny really. Of course we told her what happened and the conversation, and she still didn't laugh, but we couldn't stop.  Eventually she got over it...I think she finally forgave us about 3 years later;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111574090031713999?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111574090031713999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111574090031713999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111574090031713999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111574090031713999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/doodle-oodle-oot.html' title='Doodle-oodle-oot'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111565190922059022</id><published>2005-05-09T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T08:27:33.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a bird, it's a plane, no it's ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Last time you checked in on our heroine, she was on her way to a baseball game. Did she and her friends make it? Did she and her friends get their drink on before the game and decide to go out and party instead? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The answer is b) she and her friends got their drink on before the game and decided to go out and party instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She and her friends drove all the way across town to go to a restaurant that has another location not 2 minutes from her house. What brought on this madness? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The original plan: Have some dinner and drinks before the game at the restaurant &lt;em&gt;right next door to the stadium&lt;/em&gt; so they wouldn't flake out on the game. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The actual occurence: They were having too much fun drinking and the wind was too much. They drove &lt;em&gt;all the way back across town&lt;/em&gt; to go to a bar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;When our heroine and her friends get to the bar (after pit stops at each person's "headquarters") the buzz had gone a bit stale and everyone was tired. Until the shots came and the bar started to fill up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then came Karaoke. And the bet. And the voice that trembled and then gained confidence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Karaoke is something our heroine never really participates in. Only witnesses it for entertainment purposes. Until the game began and the drink was flowing. And our heroine's friends began to offer $5 for every song sung. Not that our heroine is hard up for money, mind you, but who would pass that up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The conditions: They got to pick the songs and she just had to go up unknowing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Luckily they were kind. Our heroine sang "Nobody" by Sylvia and "You're so Vain" by Carly Simon. I must say, she did a bang up job. The crowd cheered. Despite the heart palpitations, the face that turned beet red, and the initial slight tremble in the voice...she was a hit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Our heroine celebrated with drinks (and drinks and more drinks!) and dancing the electric slide (which she had never danced before) and did some bootyshakin' as well. Good times were had by all and our heroine made it safely home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111565190922059022?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111565190922059022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111565190922059022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111565190922059022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111565190922059022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/its-bird-its-plane-no-its.html' title='It&apos;s a bird, it&apos;s a plane, no it&apos;s ???'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111549874165094445</id><published>2005-05-07T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T13:48:49.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take me out to the ballgame</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, I'm getting ready to go to a baseball game...yeah, I know I said I don't like baseball but we got free box seats and there's lots of beer, and hotdogs, and hopefully some hotties? I know one of the guys that does marketing over there who got me the tix and said to come find him and say hi. If I don't, he'll hunt me down. I like the sound of that;) He's pretty cute, but since we do business w/them, I don't wanna screw it up. But if I do, screw it! Well, if you're looking for something to do and you like movies...I recommend going to see "Crash". I thought it was a great movie and I went in not having any idea what it was about. So, that's it. I just had my sushi fix and now it's time to get ready to see the Diablos get their butts kicked by some random team that I've never heard of. PLAY BALL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111549874165094445?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111549874165094445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111549874165094445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111549874165094445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111549874165094445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/take-me-out-to-ballgame.html' title='Take me out to the ballgame'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111540435158446469</id><published>2005-05-06T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T11:44:24.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Guacamole!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not to be confused with Martini's ever-so-popular "Holy Cannoli". The Guacamole is staying with the "Cinco de Mayo tradition".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I went out last night.&lt;br /&gt;I indulged in all of the Mexican bebidas that I think so highly of.&lt;br /&gt;I ate 2 (yeah 2...although hours between them) Chile Relleno burritos, compliments of the burrito man and my friends with cash.&lt;br /&gt;I met an English guy who was making me laugh so hard, partly because when he was talking I had flashbacks of trying to understand "Snatch" again.&lt;br /&gt;The English guy spoke to my friend who just kept saying "I don't understand you." Then we would all laugh.&lt;br /&gt;Met an old man sitting at the bar who kept dragging the bartender over everytime I came up to get a drink, but not before he'd say "Another drink already?"&lt;br /&gt;Bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked one and gave the rest of the pack to my smoker friend.&lt;br /&gt;Met a guy while waiting for my drink, who's first words to me were "I don't know anyone here." So, I said, "You do now".&lt;br /&gt;Said guy was a cutie and from New Hampshire and has only lived here for a month. Doesn't know anyone, so I got his number...you know, to be his "friend":) Very cool, very nice guy.&lt;br /&gt;Kept drinking and drinking and had my bewbie grabbed twice by two different people. They said they couldn't help it (one was a friend and one was a girl...now normally I'd probably get pissed, but I was in a great mood).&lt;br /&gt;Then my friend wants to leave because she had to catch a plane at 6:45 am this morning. Damn...I gotta go. Get my tab and it's $12...damn I love dollar drinks!&lt;br /&gt;Then, my other friend and I get dropped off and decide we're gonna go back. We were having so much fun that we went back.&lt;br /&gt;In a matter of the 10 minutes since we had left, the place was was like a tin of sardines. I mean, no joke. It was insanely packed.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have any cash (only my debit card, and I didn't want to start another tab) so we found some guys who wanted to buy us drinks.&lt;br /&gt;Had some drinks and then realized that since we couldn't even move, it was time to go.&lt;br /&gt;Went home and passed out.&lt;br /&gt;Woke up around 6:49 am (alarm went off at 6:40 and I had already pressed snooze once). Had to go to the bathroom and get some water.&lt;br /&gt;Went back to bed until 7:25 am (hey, I still had some snoozes left)&lt;br /&gt;Took my drag ass forever to get ready and didn't have time to eat...but I was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;starving!!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had to go to the newspaper to get tear sheets for our meeting. Saw a guy with a partially amputated leg with a wheelchair. But he was not sitting in it, he was facing it, bad leg in the seat, using the other leg to skateboard push it. Interesting really.&lt;br /&gt;Got to work and was really sad that I had an appointment I forgot about.&lt;br /&gt;Good thing was...she brought breakfast!! Menudo, tacos, and burritos...oh my!&lt;br /&gt;Everything was turning out ok until I tried to activate my new Cingular phone. Neither phones were working and then I finally get the new one going (after being on the phone w/Customer I don't Care for an hour) and they tell me...oh sorry, forgot to mention that you're ficked. You can't get any numbers off your old phone. WTF?!?!?!?! They didn't tell me that earlier. I'm screwed. Business contacts, personal contacts, people I want to have personal contact with!! And the cutie from last night...he didn't get my number b/c he didn't have his phone on him!! I'm so pissed off right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I don't know why I felt the need to give you a play by play, but there it is. In a nutshell, I'm hungover, tired, and now...pissed. But at least Cinco de Mayo was fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111540435158446469?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111540435158446469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111540435158446469&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111540435158446469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111540435158446469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/holy-guacamole.html' title='Holy Guacamole!'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111530813541320899</id><published>2005-05-05T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T08:48:55.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feliz Cinco de Mayo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I just want to give a shout out to all my Mexi-peeps on this holiday of holidays.  In honor of this día de fiesta en Español, I'd like to share with you guys my favorite Spanish phrases, practiced throughout my high school years in Juarez, México.  This was a typical night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¿Por qué necesitas mi ID? Soy dieciocho. (Why do you need my ID? I'm 18.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Compa(dre)...una cerveza por favor. (Friend/Bartender...a beer please.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Necesito fumar un cigarrillo.(I need to smoke a cigarette)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Déme un shot (pronounced as spanishly as possible) por favor. (Get me a shot please)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¿A donde está el baño? (Where is the bathroom?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Voy a vomitar. (I'm going to vomit)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¡Mas tequila! (More tequila!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¡Aquí vienen los polis! Corrale!! (Here comes the police! Run!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tengo hambre...quiero tacos! (I'm hungry...I want tacos!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¿Es este gato carne? Es bueno. (Is this cat meat?  It's good)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¿Quién puede manejar? (Who can drive?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;¡La línea en el puente está tan de largo! (The line on the bridge is so long!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Voy a ser atrasado para mi toque de queda! (I'm going to be late for my curfew!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;No señor, no soy barracha. Soy Americana! (No sir, I'm not drunk.  I'm American!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So there you have it...a typical high school night for me huevos rancheros style. Speaking of huevos rancheros and also in honor of Cinco de Mayo...I would like to give a shout out to my fave &lt;a href="http://www.texmextogo.com/Recipes.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Mexican dishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Huevos rancheros... who loves ya baby?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chilaquiles... mm mmm  mmm!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Machaca... oh how I love your sweet, sweet meat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ceviche...something fishy this way comes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Menudo...where's the beef?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Green Chile Enchiladas...ooh, Spicy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chimichangas...fry 'em, fry 'em, and fry 'em again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sal picón... words cannot describe how much I adore you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And last but definitely not least...my little &lt;a href="http://gourmetsleuth.com/mexicandrinksrecipes.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Mexican bebidas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...how you've gotten me through life:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Jose Cuervo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Patron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Margaritas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Corona&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Dos Equis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Pacifico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Joaquíns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Micheladas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sangria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mexican Flags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So kids...go out tonight for Cinco de Mayo, have some Chimichangas, drink some Micheladas, and vas a vómito!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111530813541320899?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111530813541320899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111530813541320899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111530813541320899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111530813541320899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/feliz-cinco-de-mayo.html' title='Feliz Cinco de Mayo'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111522568404999825</id><published>2005-05-04T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T09:54:44.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>flibbertigibbet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This word keeps pooping (ha...I had to leave it!) up in my head.  I didn't really know the meaning but every so often it keeps coming back.  Like a recurring dream except more like a "recurring obscure word."  So, I looked it up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;flib·ber·ti·gib·bet   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="https://secure.reference.com/premium/login.html?rd=2&amp;u=http%3A%2F%2Fdictionary.reference.com%2Fsearch%3Fr%3D2%26q%3Dflibbertigibbet"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; ( P )  (flbr-t-jbt)n.&lt;br /&gt;A silly, scatterbrained, or garrulous person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;n : a female fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Is it because that's what I am? Is my brain trying to tell me something?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Listen brain, you wiseass you, that's elfed up. If you wanna say something, say it clearly so I can understand using words of which I am aware and know the meaning of.  Don't camouflage your intent using verbiage consisting of lots of "b"s.  Furthermore, don't you understand that by calling me that, you are inadvertently insulting yourself?  I mean...flibbertigibbet means that you are scattered.  What does that say about you? You pretty much control my every movement, so who's the flibbertigibbet now, smarty pants?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111522568404999825?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111522568404999825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111522568404999825&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111522568404999825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111522568404999825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/flibbertigibbet.html' title='flibbertigibbet'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111515167260628121</id><published>2005-05-03T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T13:21:12.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell phone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Dear Cingular Wireless (formerly AT&amp;T),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I hate you.  You are the bane of my existence. If your automated little beotch asks me one more time for my name, phone number, and last 4 digits of my social security number, I will go ballistic.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Why is it that when I need something simple done, you make it so difficult? God forbid I have some issue more complicated than how many minutes are left on my plan.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You see, I called today in the hopes that after you bought out CrapT&amp;T, things might be a bit better.  I see you kept their employees...or at least managed to find another couple hundred &lt;em&gt;different&lt;/em&gt; idiots.  Either way, you suck.  Thanks for that.  All I wanted was a new phone. That's it, no mas. My phone sucks terribly and I'm in dire need. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What was I required to do in order to get a new phone? Hmm...I haven't even gotten that far and have been on the phone with your Customer Care, E-Store, Financial Resposibility Transfer Dept (WTF?), and Online Order Department (which is different from your E-Store how??). I managed to finally get the account in my name.  That's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;See, every person I spoke to was either rude or stupid and frankly I have patience for neither.  Unfortunately, I don't currently have the however much it costs to cancel your suckvice.  You've managed to get a firm grasp on what would be my balls if I were a guy and keep me locked into this contract one way or another.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I'm going to keep your service with your shitty "Customer Care" reps (although you should change the name to Customer, I don't Care) because I currently am stuck.  And I'm most likely going to end up paying for another phone that will suck in about 2 months.  And I'm going to be pissed about it.  But just know that I'm spreading the word and that I hate you.  I hate your rotten, stinking guts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yours hatefully,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Customer shackled to your service for life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111515167260628121?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111515167260628121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111515167260628121&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111515167260628121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111515167260628121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/hell-phone.html' title='Hell phone'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111509521605654121</id><published>2005-05-02T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T21:40:16.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much drama for my mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I'm in the middle of drama.  I usually steer clear but I like to hear about it (does that mean I'm ficked up?) So, my friend B has been dating this super duper psycho chick.  I mean, "Fatal Attraction" psycho. There have been screaming matches and cops called.  You know, a real healthy relationship.  So, today it all came full circle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;See, we've all been good friends for a long time.  The psycho bitch (PB) is unliked by all. Not one person that has met her has liked her...without any influence from others.  Well, there was a huge argument that took place about a year ago (I was not involved) between PB, my friend B and my friend T(girl).  Not too long after B and T made up.  They're good friends and that's what friends do.  Well, PB didn't know that this whole time they've been talking.  She found out today.  All hell broke loose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;sidebar: I mean, my friend B is an idiot and a glutton for punishment for staying with this girl all this time and he keeps saying "Oh, I told her I don't wanna see her anymore."  We all know he's full of shit.  He's basically not allowed to hang out with any of his friends b/c of her.  He turns off his phone when she's with him and his cell phone is like a bottle is to a baby.  Super cell phone dependent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, she found out B and T were talking.  Wanted to talk to T.  Grilled her about their friendship.  Blah blah blah.  Then she left him for good.  Hip hip hooray I thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then he just called.  He is freaking out hardcore. She went to where he was eating dinner with his friends.  She smacked the bejeezus out of him...like almost knocked out a tooth hard.  Everyone was staring (as it is a regular hang out for a lot of us, so he knew almost everyone there).  Then, she gets in her truck and RAMS INTO HIS CAR! You betcha.  PSYCHO!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He was screaming into the phone (not at me, but to me) saying "I don't know what I'm going to do.  I'm fucking scared.  I mean, I'm really fucking scared. Of a chick! I'm scared of a chick!!" He was worried she was going to do something to his house.  He was on his way home and scared to go.  I told him he could come to my house...as long as she didn't follow him.  He pulls up to his house and she's there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She is a fucking crazy bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Update: He just called back and she RAMMED HER CAR INTO HIS GARAGE! Fucking psycho crazy nutjob insane bitch.  And he can't call the cops b/c of certain "things" she knows.  He's screwed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111509521605654121?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111509521605654121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111509521605654121&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111509521605654121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111509521605654121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/too-much-drama-for-my-mama.html' title='Too much drama for my mama'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111505280455482818</id><published>2005-05-02T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T09:53:24.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From one extreme to the other</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;For those of you concerned...my eyes are all better.  No more pink eyes!  I was actually feeling much better Friday but my friends still boycotted me.  Now Saturday?  Saturday was a whole different ball game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It started off fairly well.  I got up and was energized...went to the gym and had a great workout.  Called my boss to see if I could come get my check.  No, he says. Why? Because they didn't have enough money to make payroll.  Uh...WTF?!?! That's just awesome...another reason why a new job is in my near future.  Anyway, he calls back a little later and says I can get my check after all.  Still, it's the principle.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Anyway, here's a time line of events:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:25 pm...picked up my super duper hungover friend for beers and mexican food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 3:30pm ...get home and water the lawn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 3:35 pm...different friend calls, wants to go to the mall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 3:45 pm...friend picks me up and we go to the mall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-3:50 pm...go to almost every damn store in the mall and try on clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 6:00 pm...leave mall (whew!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 6:10 pm...go to drug store to contemplate dying my hair dark brown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 6:25 pm...opt to color the root growth with blonde and say that when/if I do decide to make the ultimate change, will get it done professionally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 6:40 pm...get home and begin dye process&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 7:30 pm...finish dye process and wash out in shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 7:40 pm... first attempt at putting contacts back in after pink eye incident&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 7:45 pm... contact mission a success, begin applying "party night" makeup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 8:00 pm...dry and style newly dyed and surprisingly great looking color hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 8:30 pm... get dressed and complete all finishing touches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 8:50 pm...meet at friends house for "party night"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 9:00 pm...on our way to the bar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 9:15 pm... workin' on my buzz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-10:00 pm ... decide the bar was lame and walk down the street to another bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 10:05 pm...still workin' on my buzz (although I was a lot further along than I thought)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 12:00 am... pretty much drunk after many drinks (when I drink liquor I tend to drink too fast).  Talking about nonsense to friends I haven't seen in a while (some topics...ghosts, feet, my cell phone??) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:30 am...many of my friends have left (the ones that came with me anyway) end up leaving with some other friends.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:45 am...get to my friend's house and what's that?  a party?  oh, ok, let's go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:50 am...go to a party and there are some randoms and some people I know (I am pretty much wasted)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 2:30 am ... once again talking nonsense to people I haven't seen since grade school (crazy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 3:30 am...attempt to get up to go to the bathroom and stumble, almost busted my ass, and someone(?) caught me? I hear "sexy" and some other guy go "yeah".  WTF?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 4:25 am...time to go home. This guy says (and he was actually cute) "You should just stay."  Uh, ok guy, sure I'll stay here with you. I don't even know you.  Yeah, no thanks...even though you're cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 4:45 am...stumble in my front door (after confirmation that I was in fact going to make good on my promise to attend the wine/blues/jazz festival at 1:00 pm the next day)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 4:50 am... get home, realize I lost my phone and an earring?... pass out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 9:30 am... awakened with a start for no reason.  Feel like head was pummeled with a large hammer of some sort.  Take 1 Ibuprofen 800.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 9:45 am...realize I am dying a slow, miserable death. NO Ficking way am I going to an outdoor festival in the hot sun to drink! I can't even sit upright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 9:50 am- 12:35 pm...my friend and her brother called me about 30 times during this period.  My friend didn't want to go b/c she was almost as hungover as I was and her brother is the one we made the promise to. I was lying on the couch, semi-comatose, trying to choke down water and crackers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 12:40 pm...receive threatening phone call saying I better get my ass in the shower and get ready because I'm going&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-12:42 pm...get in shower.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-12:44 pm...realize I probably am dying and get the urge to do the technicolor yawn. That was it...I had no time to plan.  Threw up in the shower 4 times. Knew I was dying at that point.  Noticed that the ibuprofen I had taken hours ago was still whole and in the bathtub.  Gross...sorry.  I figured the ibuprofen on an empty stomach was NOT the way to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:15 pm...go to friend's house to meet and be chauffered to the wine festival&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:30pm...everyone meets at the house and no one is in as bad of shape as I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 1:45 pm...realize I am damn funny when I'm on my death bed as I keep coming up with little remarks that are making everyone laugh (no, not pity laughs...at least I hope not)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 2:15 pm...get to the store for beers on the road and purchase a bag of Funyuns (don't ask...I haven't had those in years!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 2:45 pm...arrive at festival and begin to consume margaritas with shots of Rojo Loco (red wine of some type). Spend lots of money on drinks, a corn dog, curly fries, more drinks...and finally water. Went through waves of terrible and good feelings.  Had fun, then was miserable...fun then miserable...and it went on and on.  Finally, I couldn't do it anymore.  I was on the verge and it was time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-6:00 pm...We left and as soon as I got in the car with some AC I was MUCH better.  Drank hot beers in the car...finished off funyuns (when I'm hungover, food is the greatest thing ever, once I can get it to stay down).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 6:30 pm...decide we need some Mexican food (yeah, more food).  Go to eat.  My friend B decides to shove a whole sopaipilla in his mouth.  Laughed uncontrollably for about 10 minutes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-7:00 pm...B and E drop me off at home.  I call my friend (who didn't do anything this weekend and feels fit as a fiddle) and B and E are at her house.  Why did they drop me off then?  They want me to come over.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-7:03 pm...(she lives really close) get to T's house and hang out.  Laugh about stuff for like 30 minutes.  Decide to go to B's house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 7:40 pm... get to B's house and hang out.  Watched "Family Guy" and "American Dad"...laughed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;-9:10 pm...go to T's house and get in jacuzzi.  Relaxed and relaxed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;- 10:15 pm...go home and (finally) pass out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It was non-stop this weekend but I had a blast. I've never laughed so hard.  So, that's it.  Now I'm just dead today, but I think I'm gonna live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111505280455482818?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111505280455482818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111505280455482818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111505280455482818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111505280455482818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/05/from-one-extreme-to-other.html' title='From one extreme to the other'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111480287368555729</id><published>2005-04-29T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T12:35:42.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conjunctiv-EYE-tis</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Conjunctivitis symptoms:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mostly both eyes are affected, but often one starts before the other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The eye is red, with the blood vessels over the white of the eye more visible and swollen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The lining of the eyelids also looks redder or pinker than usual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The eye is sticky, with a discharge, which is worse when you wake up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The eye is itchy or painful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sometimes people do not like to be in bright light (photophobia). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So ladies and gents, it's official and it's disgusting. Sorry. Actually, since I have no medical insurance as of yet (my company requires you to be employed for SIX months before you're eligible...highway robbery) I was going to go to an urgent care facility. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I had gone to our local pharmacy to inquire as to whether or not there was an OTC remedy for my ailment. No such luck. I called the urgent care facility and was told that the office visit would be (drum roll please) ....&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;$185.00&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. WTF?!?! Umm...I'm sorry, but I'm poor and now I was screwed. Then, like a lightning bolt, I was hit with the recollection that mine friend had this not a month ago!! Hallelujah, I spoke unto myself! I called her, and called her, and called her. But alas, got only the voicemail. So, I opted to lay down and close my eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then, like a beacon, I see the little blue light on my phone illuminated...hark, the phone is vibrating and it is mine friend. My savior!! She has a &lt;em&gt;full bottle of eye drops that she never used!!!!&lt;/em&gt; I was saved. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Two drops in each eye every three hours" she advised. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Anything, anything you say to rid my eyes of this terrible infection. It would still be contagious for another 24 hours or so. I wasn't to be in the presence of anyone during this time. Damn, that means no work on Friday (today!!). That also meant that I couldn't go hang out with my friend at her house for beers and jacuzzi-ing. DAMN, I was jealous. Brand new jacuzzi with over 80 jets and I wasn't allowed because of my conjunctivitis. So, I opted for beers and "Under the Tuscan Sun" on one of the gazillion movie channels I had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My eyes were almost instantly better. Woke up this morning...eyes opened easily! No problem! Of course I thought, "Well, I'm probably still contagious...so no WORK!" And I didn't go. I'm not there. I'm relaxing at home. Eyes all cleared up (like a miracle!) and I get a 3 day weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, that's my story. The story of conjunctivitis and how it can both hinder and help you at the same time. Let this be a lesson to all. Beware the pink eye!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111480287368555729?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111480287368555729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111480287368555729&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111480287368555729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111480287368555729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/conjunctiv-eye-tis.html' title='Conjunctiv-EYE-tis'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111470379344428837</id><published>2005-04-28T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T08:56:33.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am sofa king we todd did</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I think I'm going to start off every post with an account of the previous night's dream.  I don't get it.  I mean, I &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; used to remember my dreams, but now, every morning like clockwork I wake up and have a vivid memory of what happened in my dream.  My friends and I were somewhere in California (not Hollywood or anything....like Corona or something) and there was this party.  So we're mingling and this guy comes up to me...totally hot...and starts talking to me.  He says "I'm (don't remember the name he used)." I looked at him blankly.  He says "You know, MCA from the Beastie Boys."  I was like, no way.  Now, I know Adam Yauch isn't super hot, but in my dream he was.  And he was a Beastie.  And we were cruising the party, all my friends were like "Holy shit" and then MCA and I went into this crazy room where one of the walls was this vortex looking thing. MCA said "Yeah yo I know this kid"(oh sorry...Paul Revere slipped in there)...he said "You know what that is, right?" Uh, no...but it looks bizarre.  So he jumps into it and it spits him right back out...but he's not MCA anymore.  He's now Matthew McConaghuey.  Everytime he jumps up against that wall...he's someone else (super hottie famous guys of course).  I guess it had to do with me watching "Blade:Trinity" last night.  Who knows.  Damn, that was a good dream.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;SO, when my alarm went off this morning...catapulting me into the real, awake world I realized I couldn't open my eyes.  (This is gross, sorry) So, I'm sure everyone at one point in their lives has had pink eye.  Well, that's what this was like.  I could see b/c of all the crap that had built up while I slept.  My eyes were that watery red.  I didn't feel like pink eye (like I was blinking sand) but it looked like it.  And I had that eye crap that felt like it too.  As I'm sitting here, they are better, but there's still a slight blur.  I'm sure you guys are super happy to hear this, it so much funnier than mismatched shoes (sarcasm, folks).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I got this email today for a job in Houston.  Director of Marketing.  Seemed pretty sweet actually, except for the fact that it's in Houston.  No offense to you Houstonites (or Houstonians or Houstoniacs, whatever) but I don't really like Houston.  The weather sucks ass...I hate humidity.  I don't think I could do it.  I've been there twice and both times it just seemed crappy.  I could be wrong.  Anyone out there have any Houstonisms that might make me change my mind and take this $80K-$90K a year job?  That's pretty appealing right?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, it's not like I exactly have the job or anything...I have to send in this "personality" type test ie. writing sample from a website they directed me to.  I'm guessing they do some kind of writing analysis to determine what kind of personality you have....do you cross your "t"s at the top or bottom, do you loop your "o"s and do they reach out to the next letter?  They specified "unlined" paper, so I'm sure they want to see if you write slanting up or down or straight across.  How much do you think they can learn about a person from a handwriting sample?  I know they use it in criminal cases, so maybe alot.  I wonder, is my writing going to make or break this for me?  Well...I'm curious, have any of you ever had to do this and if so, how did it turn out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh,  and just for Wally, so he'd have something funny to read...this morning as I got to work there was this man walking towards me.  He waves, I wave (confused b/c I didn't recognize him).  He's talking as he's walking towards me, so of course I say "What?"  He keeps talking, I keep saying what.  He gets closer and I walk right up to him.  He gives  me this strange look and tries to get around me.   I notice that a) he was waving at the person &lt;em&gt;behind&lt;/em&gt; me and that b) he was talking hands-free on his cell phone.  He looked at me like I was "we todd did" and just kept on walking.  Man, I'm batting 1000.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111470379344428837?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111470379344428837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111470379344428837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111470379344428837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111470379344428837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-am-sofa-king-we-todd-did.html' title='I am sofa king we todd did'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111461696078320109</id><published>2005-04-27T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T08:49:20.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of THOSE days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;That's what I'm having today.  I woke up this morning in a total fog.  I had another weird dream about this living, bubbly rash that kept appearing and disappearing on my friend's face (in the dream of course).  Everytime I'd mention it, it would disappear.  Strange.  Anyway...so my questions for you all today are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Have you ever had one of those days...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where you're in the shower and you condition your hair first and then realize that you hadn't even washed your hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where you're in the shower and you can't remember whether or not you just washed your hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where you get out of the shower and start to towel dry your hair and realize you never washed out the conditioner?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where you search and search for the trusty black pants that serve as a backup plan for these kinds of mornings and realize that you had already laid them out and you just kept overlooking them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Where you can't remember if you put deodorant on yet and so you end up triple coating the armpits?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes people, that was my morning.  I got to work and realized that I had on 2 completely different earrings, I had toothpaste on my chin (gross), was wearing sandals when most of the nail polish on most of my toes is chipped or completely off, I left my cell phone at home, I brought my digital camera but forgot to put the battery back in it (I need to take photos today), and last but not least, I managed to set my coffee (in one of those plastic/foam cups) on a thumb tack which punctured a tiny hole in the bottom of the cup so that the coffee just started squirting out and all down the front of my white shirt.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And that, folks, is my day thus far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111461696078320109?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111461696078320109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111461696078320109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111461696078320109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111461696078320109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of THOSE days'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111452975859507997</id><published>2005-04-26T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T08:40:40.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got tagged....now you're it</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well this actually started with&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://ogresview.blogspot.com/2005/04/if-i-could-be-meme.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Ogres View&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;, Blue got tagged by&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://absotivelyfantabulous.blogspot.com/2005/04/dammit-blame-jin-for-this-time-suck.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;CindyLou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;, and I got tagged by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://thegolfmerchant.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;These were toughies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So here's how it works. Immediately following there is a list of 22 different occupations. You must select at least 5 of them (feel free to select more). You may add more if you like to your list before you pass it on (after you select 5 of the items as it was passed to you). Each one begins with "If I could be..." Of the 5 you selected, you are to finish each phrase with what you would do as a member of that profession.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Once you're done you point this meme at three (three) people you think will be cool with putting in a good two cents on it. Don't forget to add a profession to the end of the list with a link to your meme!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a writer I would love to ANY kind of stories. It's been my lifelong dream to be able to write freely and not have to worry about being interrupted by "work". I have random ideas constantly, and totally unrelated and I have a feeling that somewhere down the line I might actually get to accomplish this task. At least I hope so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a professor, I would teach Creative Writing. My own CW professor inspired me and gave me the criticism and praise that I believe brought this idea to mind. To be able to express yourself through words is one of the greatest things and how many budding writers get the courage to take the plunge into writing. No grading, no structured tests, just free writing and sharing of ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a psychologist I would definitely be a criminal profiler. To be able to get into the minds of the criminals in this world and try to figure out how they think and why they think the way they do...well that's why I went to school for psych in the first place. I want to be on the crime scene, to examine evidence, all of that stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an innkeeper I would own a B&amp;B out in the countryside, away from all the noise and distraction of the city. Somewhere where I could live in peace and share a little of that peace with all the visitors to come my way. Seems like such a worry-free existence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a chef, I'd work in a 5 star restaurant in New York. Preparing exquisite dishes worthy of the greatest palette. Spending my time creating new and exciting dishes for anyone and everyone who wanted a taste. In my restaurant, no one would be turned away for lack of importance or status. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The List&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a scientist...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a farmer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a musician...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a doctor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a painter...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a gardener...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a missionary...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a chef...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an architect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a linguist...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a psychologist...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a librarian...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an athlete...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a lawyer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an innkeeper...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a professor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a writer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a llama-rider...(by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://ogresview.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ogre&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a bonnie pirate...(By&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://piratescove.typepad.com/"&gt;Teach&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a servicemember...(By Jeremy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be a business owner...(By&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://thegolfmerchant.blogspot.com/2005/04/if-i-could-bememe.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Blue944&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an actor... (By&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://thegolfmerchant.blogspot.com/2005/04/if-i-could-bememe.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Blue944&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be an agent...(By&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;KelBel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If I could be video game designer...(By&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;KelBel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now three of yous peeps are gettin' tagged by me. Feel free to participate in this even if I don't tag you. I think I will choose&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://martinilove.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;sam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;because he seems like he works with a lot of stupid peopple and maybe needs to fantasize about working somewhere else;) I'll choose&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://fortheman.blogspot.com//"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;stoli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;because I can't imagine what else she'd like to do know the life that she lives now! And I choose &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jasikasebkarshad.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Jasika&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;because her reasons will probably be as beautiful as her writing:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111452975859507997?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111452975859507997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111452975859507997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111452975859507997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111452975859507997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-got-taggednow-youre-it.html' title='I got tagged....now you&apos;re it'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111446548797207716</id><published>2005-04-25T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T14:44:47.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LaRue and the Bunny on the Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Wow, that could totally be a kid's book title. Hmm...I might have to use that. No one steal it or I'll know it was you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just a short little post to talk about some things that I was thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off...I remember the dream that I had last night. With me, it's always dreams. For some reason, I always thought I never remembered them, but I guess I do. I had a dream that I had a giraffe. Yep, a giraffe. But she was no normal giraffe. She was a talking, smoking, cartoon giraffe. She was really cute too. And her name was LaRue. She was my counsel. She gave me advice, helped me reach things that were high on the shelves, and was my best buddy. She had this thing in her mouth that would pop out and (it looked like a machine gun??) and it would dispense cigarettes. The cigarette would come out and then the dispenser would go back from whence it came. I wish LaRue was real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you guys look at the moon, what do you see? Other than a planetary orb that is luminescent when the sun is gone...do you see a figure on the moon? Is it a bunny rabbit? Is it a man? How come I've never heard of the damned bunny rabbit on the moon? Has this been around forever and I've just been under the proverbial rock? My friends thought I was joking at first, and then when they realized I had never seen the bunny on the moon, thought I was completely insane. "Oh MY GOD! SHUT UP! YOU'RE LYING?! YOU'VE &lt;em&gt;NEVER&lt;/em&gt; SEEN THE BUNNY ON THE MOON? Pardon me if I the thing I remember the most is "The man on the moon". Is something wrong with me? Someone please help me out on this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111446548797207716?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111446548797207716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111446548797207716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111446548797207716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111446548797207716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/larue-and-bunny-on-moon.html' title='LaRue and the Bunny on the Moon'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111444231940227114</id><published>2005-04-25T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T08:18:39.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snippets from yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ah....Monday again.  No, that's not a sigh of happiness...more like a sigh of, well, acceptance.  No matter how much I hate them, they always come once a week.  I guess I should get used to it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh, who am I kidding, I'll never get used to Mondays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, yesterday turned out to be an interesting day.  Started off a bit slow.  Went to a ceremony for my friend who is graduating with honors...boooorrriiinnnggg.  But I went because I wanted to show my support and let her know I was proud.  And there was a free dinner in it for me;)  It was pretty cool though because I thought we were going to be there for like 3 hours and after they called her name for her to collect her honors pin, she was walking back up to the seating area and just kept on going, right up to us and said "I'm gonna sneak outta here, let's go." Awesome...I was SO hoping she would do that!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So we went and ate, drank, and were merry.  It was a joyous occasion.  Then, we couldn't figure out what we wanted to do.  Decided to go see a movie (as of this weekend I saw Amityville Horror, Fever Pitch, and then A Lot Like Love yesterday).  It was movie catch up weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, we saw A Lot Like Love and I really enjoyed it. Ashton Kutcher... damn that Demi Moore!!  She's not allowed to take a dip into the younger age pool! Not fair!  Yeah, I know that even if he weren't with Demi that he probably wouldn't be with me (if only because I just don't know where I'd get to meet him;) but still!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Anyway, the movie was good but it really made my friend and I bummed out.  We're both going through the same situation and it's pretty difficult.  At least we have each other to bounce things off of when times like this happen.  But we were pretty much silent on the way home.  Both of us pretty much on the verge of tears actually. She dropped me off at home and left.  I stood there outside for a few minutes, just thinking about things.  Then I realized if I didn't go get gas that I'd be hurting in the morning.  So, I get into my car and my friend calls...sniffling. She asks if I want to go get a beer.  Damn, a beer never sounded better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, off we go to a local dive (not a dive, dive, the kind of dive that lots of people go to because it's a chill place with about 10 pools tables, darts, shuffleboard...you name it.)  We both sit up at the bar and kinda sigh, like a "Woe is me" kind of sigh.  The bartender is like "You couldn't have had that long of a day, it's Sunday." Well, thanks, but whatever.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So there we are feeling sorry for ourselves and this semi-decent guy walks up to us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Hey, you wanna play some shuffleboard?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My friend T: No thanks, not really in a shuffleboard kind of mood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Are you sure?  You guys look like you could use some shuffleboard (in a sing songy kind of way)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Thanks, but we're not very much fun right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Ok, well, we'll be over there if you change your mind.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, we go about our business and the guy walks back up to us.  This guy was a total clown.  Very funny and surprisingly upfront.  We let him know right away that we'd talk to him, but get real if he expected either of us to hook up with him.  So he pitches me this idea he has had for a commercial for a long time.  Actually very good and very funny.  Too bad I'm not in the right industry for that type of commercial.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, his friend comes up and he looks like a little Limp Bizkit.  Introduces himself as Andrew.  His friend keeps calling him Donald.  I'm totally confused as to why he would introduce himself with one name but yet he goes by another?  So, I just kept calling him AndrewDonald.  He got a kick out of that.  I was just happy I wasn't still sitting at the bar drowning my sorrows.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So then the other guy, Alex, starts talking about his kids.  He says he has  9 year old and his "baby's mama" is expecting in 3 months (or at least that's what I thought.)  My friend says "No, he &lt;em&gt;already&lt;/em&gt; has a 3 month old, right?" and looks at him.  He nods yes.  Ok.  I say "Oh, I thought you said your girlfriend was expecting in 3 months" He nod his head yes.  WTF? I mean, I could tell the guy was pretty drunk and he was extremely entertaining, but he was also extremely confusing us.  So, then a few minutes later he says his girlfriend is 3 months pregnant.  What the hell?  So we were both wrong, yet he nodded yes to both of us.   The conversation after that went like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: So you have 1 kid and another on the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: And you're not married.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: &lt;em&gt;HELLLLLLL NO!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (laughing really, really hard) How stupid of me.  I mean, how absurd it is to think that you might be married since you have 1 child and another on the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Not married.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Ok, so can I ask you another question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: Sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: So, do your kids have the same mother?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: &lt;em&gt;HELLLLLL NO!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (laughing even harder) I'm sorry, what a stupid question!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: See, my first baby mama is a lawyer...I put her through school.  Then it just didn't work out b/c I didn't love her.  Now, this baby mama I've been putting her through school to get her master's degree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: SOO, if it doesn't work out with her, I've been thinking of going back to school to get my PhD.....I wouldn't have to get pregnant would I?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Him: (actually seriously thinking about it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: (laughing my ass off now because this is just ridiculous)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The rest of the night pretty much went like that.  Him entertaining us, me giving him shit, and then all of us laughing.  So, then I guess his baby mama calls and it's time for him to go home.  Gives me and my friend a hug.  Then looks at me and says "You need a kiss." I didn't even have time to react...he totally tried to stick his tongue down my throat!  WTF? Luckily I was totally tight lipped and so he didn't get in there.  Poor baby mama...if she only knew.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Disclaimer: In no way do I condone this type of behavior from a male with a baby mama at home.  In no way do I ever make a habit of even knowing guys that have a baby mama and call them that.  This served the sole purpose of entertaining us and getting us out of our sour moods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111444231940227114?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111444231940227114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111444231940227114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111444231940227114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111444231940227114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/snippets-from-yesterday.html' title='Snippets from yesterday'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111428475536388805</id><published>2005-04-23T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T12:32:35.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I doing here?</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's Saturday.  I know I don't normally post on Saturdays, but I had a few free minutes and thought "Hey, why not?"  So, I had a blast last night at my friend's party. We drank Margaritas galore!  I actually don't know how many I drank, but the caterer kept coming and filling my glass up so I couldn't have counted if I tried.  His place is like a maze.  It has 2 kitchens and a huge basement.  I told him that if he wanted to, he could become a serial killer and bury the bodies in there.  It looks like one of &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; basements;)  Anyway...had great talks with great peeps and laughed my ass off.  I checked my email not too long ago and wanted to post this b/c it really made me laugh too (no offense blue;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cowboy and The Yuppie&lt;br /&gt;A cowboy was herding his herd in a remote pasture when suddenlya brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud&gt; towards him. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows&gt; and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?" The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a&gt; yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure. Why not?" The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell  notebook computer, connects it to his AT&amp;T cell phone and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution  photo. The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg,    Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data  stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with hundreds of complex formulas. He uploads all of this data via an email on his Blackberry, and after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi- tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1586 cows and calves." "That's right. Well, I guess you can take one&gt; of my calves,"says the cowboy. He watches the young man select one of the  animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car. Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give&gt; me back my calf?" The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?" "You're a consultant." says the cowboy. "Wow!&gt; That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?" "No guessing required," answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew; to a question I never asked; and you don't know anything about my business." "Now give me back my DOG."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out yo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111428475536388805?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111428475536388805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111428475536388805&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111428475536388805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111428475536388805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-am-i-doing-here.html' title='What am I doing here?'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111420560765815176</id><published>2005-04-22T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T14:33:27.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell your boobs to quit staring at my eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's quite interesting being one of very &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; few females at a job.  Now, normally I get along better with males because...well because we all know we're bitches, right girls? Some of us, not all of us.  And those that aren't come in contact with the ones that are and are forced to be a bitch to the bitch.  Anyway...so I'm in a highly male dominated workplace.  The only other women that work here are receptionists or clerks...and since I'm in a higher position, then of course they are....yes kids, that's right... bitches!  I'm totally nice to them and try to be friendly and smile and say "please" and "thank you", but to no avail.  And I know they talk about me (in Spanish) when I leave.  Whatever, I don't really care that much.  I'm getting off my point though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've got a male bastion over here.  The managers are the ones that rule the world here.  They're all male.  They all have this "bond" because they basically went to the same school, know the same people, all that good stuff.  It's a managerial clique.  SO, most of them are overweight, over 50, and overly perverted.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now honestly, I'm not easily offended or angered.  Not at all in fact.  I am easily grossed out.  I knew when I started here what it would be like and it doesn't bother me except for the fact that I'm thinking "Do they really think this is cute?"  Let's talk about today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm walking across the street to go to our daily meeting.  One of the sales people is walking up behind me and says (as he puts his arm around me) "I have a proposal for you." I was like, "Uh, ok" (thinking he had some advertising suggestions or something).  His response "-------". Nothing. See, that was a joke.  "I have a proposal for you." Ha ha, I'm laughing so hard I can barely stand it (sarcasm, obviously).  SO all day today when I'm within 50 feet of him he says it, over and over.  Shut up already, it wasn't funny the first time and it's really not funny now.  What does that even mean?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, when I get to my meeting this morning I say hi to peeps and go to sit down.  One of the managers pats his lap and says "You can sit here." Uh, ha ha again.  No thanks.  So I find a seat (in my very own chair, thanks) and another manager walks in and says "I'm going to sit by you." Whatever....I mean, there are like 50 other chairs and if you sit right by me you're really going to burst my personal bubble under your weight, but fine.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, the meeting begins and one of the other managers says "How's everyone this Friday."  There's fines and goods all over the place and me, being the ever so clever smart ass that I am, say "Well, I'm tired, a little sick actually.  Have headache and I'm congested." Yeah, I know, it was really funny right;)?  So the personal-bubble-popper says "I'm gonna rub some Vick's on her chest in a minute." I turn to him and he might as well have his whole head in my cleavage.  He didn't even stop when he realized I was looking at him.  Gross.  He really is just gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then, I'm sitting there and for some reason I tend to shed.  I always end up with hair on my shirt...and of course you can really see it on black (as I was wearing today).  I'm picking some hair off my shirt and I'll be damned if that bubble popper didn't reach over and brush my boob with his hand like something was on my shirt (I &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; there was nothing where his hand was).  I was in shock actually.  And then he laughs!  That fucker.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, maybe I'm being unfair.  A little discriminatory?  If he were super hot, would that bother me?  Hmmm....good question.  Maybe not if that was the case, but that's just never appropriate.  I know people out there will say "KelBel, that's sexual harrassment...he can't do that to you."  Well, I know it is but as long as I'm not traumatized by it I can let it pass.  I wouldn't venture to be in a room alone with him or anything, just in case, but whatever.  Just a dirty old fat man with no restraint.  I really think he's harmless, but all the same, I steer clear so I don't have to deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111420560765815176?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111420560765815176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111420560765815176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111420560765815176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111420560765815176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/tell-your-boobs-to-quit-staring-at-my.html' title='Tell your boobs to quit staring at my eyes'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111411104410579248</id><published>2005-04-21T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T12:17:24.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photographs, evil carpets, and explosions on the freeway</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It has recently come to my attention that people are shooting emails back and forth with pictures attached. How did I not get in on this picture passing frenzy? I'm &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; curious as to what all these beautiful people look like. It just makes me wonder if what I'm imagining is anything close to real.  If you're not opposed, I'd be interested to get some of these emailed my way as well. I would even be willing to send you one back of my non-photogenic self.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Since I'm talking about sending pictures, our newspaper rep came into today and was waiting for my boss to get here...of course.  He said he was bored so he wanted to play with my digital camera.  What he failed to mention was that he was going to be spending the entire time taking ridiculous pictures of me.  Then he's telling me to put on my sunglasses and stand up, take off your jacket, do this, go like this.  Uh...no.  Stop.  Seriously, that's annoying and I really do HATE pictures.  He did take one decent one though...and since it's most recent...I'll send that one to anyone who gives two craps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On another note, I had a super nuts dream last night.  I was at my friend's house because he was moving and we were going to help, and he had this huge warehouse-like room in his house.  Well, we go in there and there's this huge rug on the floor with this weird looking creature on it.  I was like "What in the hell is that?" He says "It's Kronos" (yes, for any of you that have seen "The Incredibles", that's where it's from).  Apparently Kronos is some evil spirit  thing that my friend invoked from the Ouija Board and it possessed his carpet(??) Anyway, they were friends or whatever but Kronos did not like me at ALL.  Now, I know this sound ridiculous, but it was actually kinda freaky (the spirit was, anyways).  Since we were helping him move, I started to roll up the carpet.  Big Mistake.  I mean, the evil spirit didn't like me already, but that &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; pissed him off. He materialized and was this huge, four-legged, all black (like cockroach black), creature thing.  I freaked and took off running and it was chasing me at full speed.  Everyone else was just standing around like no big deal, and I managed to jump into this cage and shut myself in.  That was so freakin' weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And finally, I'm just curious, this may seem seriously weird or whatever but I have to know.  Often times when I'm driving I can envision things happening (which never do of course) but really horrible freak accidents.  For example, yesterday I was on my way home and I was behind this truck marked "Liquid Transport...extremely flammable".  Well, this moron was coming up from behind weaving in and out of cars going about 20 miles over the speed limit.  He hauled ass right past the truck in front of me and cut him off.  That of course made the truck slam on it's brakes and then me, and the person behind me, etc. I managed to stop within inches of that truck but the whole time I could see the scenario actually happening in my head.  First, the truck jacknifes and I slam into it, along with a bunch of other people in the other lanes.  It flips and there's this huge explosion taking out the driver, myself, and all the other motorists within miles.  I see stuff like this in my head all the time.  Am I ficked in the head or does this happen to other people too??  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Guess I'm in a weird mood today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111411104410579248?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111411104410579248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111411104410579248&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111411104410579248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111411104410579248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/photographs-evil-carpets-and.html' title='Photographs, evil carpets, and explosions on the freeway'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111402885871425468</id><published>2005-04-20T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T13:27:38.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Classified</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This could also work:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Single White Female in her 20s seeks terminally ill elderly man for short-lived (hopefully) relationship.  Preferably wheel chair bound with impotency problem. Also must not be eligible for Viagra (or other ED) prescriptions. Must be as close to death as possible and easily influenced to change his Will with a simple flash of nay-nays. Must be worth millions of dollars and be willing to forsake all others and leave all pricy possessions to me. If interested, call or email me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yeah...I'd never do that, but this is sad stuff right here. I'm currently working on a solution ie new job.  We'll see what I can do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111402885871425468?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111402885871425468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111402885871425468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111402885871425468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111402885871425468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/classified.html' title='Classified'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111395081791975719</id><published>2005-04-19T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T15:58:25.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now taking applications</title><content type='html'>Just print and fill out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img246.echo.cx/my.php?image=applicationforsugardaddypsd9aw.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img246.echo.cx/img246/8141/applicationforsugardaddypsd9aw.th.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111395081791975719?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111395081791975719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111395081791975719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111395081791975719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111395081791975719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/now-taking-applications.html' title='Now taking applications'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111392930460255153</id><published>2005-04-19T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T09:48:24.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not going to sell my body</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, I've been thinking about this for awhile.  I mean, it's ridiculous really.  I'm 29 years old, I have a BA in Psych and an MBA and I make less than a teacher does.  What the hell is going on?  I thought when you got your diploma that read "Master's of Business Administration" that there would be a guy standing next to the guy that handed me a diploma offering me at least a $100K a year job.  That's what they make you think anyway.  Where did I go wrong? I was promised $10K more a year after 6 months at this job right now... did I get it?  NO.  Did I get anything? NO.  Is my boss a lying flake?  YES. Is this getting off track?  A little bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Anyway, I need to figure something out.  See, with my ginormous school loan payments, my car, and all the other fun bills...I have enough left over for gas and some food sometimes.  What in the hell can I do about this?  I am looking for a new job, but right now I'm totally broke.  Here are some ideas I had for making some money(legally, that is...no selling my body or "substances of the illegal nature"), I need opinions or other suggestions (because these all suck):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Buy some spray paint and a stencil and go around painting addresses on people's curbs (as it is required that they have this). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. Get a night job bartending somewhere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. Pawn anything of worth that I own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. Have a yardsale to get rid of anything that isn't of much worth that I own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. Go get paid for giving plasma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Help.  I am SO at a loss.  I mean, I really just need a better job or a job that pays me better.  How did I end up here?  This just sucks a big toe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111392930460255153?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111392930460255153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111392930460255153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111392930460255153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111392930460255153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-not-going-to-sell-my-body.html' title='I&apos;m not going to sell my body'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111384396713838901</id><published>2005-04-18T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T10:22:39.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I'm happy I'm not married.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Why I'm happy I'm not married&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;KelBel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm happy I'm not married because this weekend I witnessed firsthand what marriage can turn into. I know there are marriages that work, and work well for that matter, but holy crap in a bucket my friends are in some BAD marriages. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You see, I have one friend here whose husband has cheated on her &lt;em&gt;at least&lt;/em&gt; twice...because those 2 times we caught him (oh yes, men, women will find out). They have 4...yeah 4 kids together. She's 28, has no skills, no job, and no money without him. She won't leave because she wouldn't survive. I don't really give a crap because I would frickin' leave in a heartbeat....of course, I would never let myself end up in a situation like that. He makes a boatload of money so she'll be set forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have another friend that came into town this weekend with her husband. She's always been a little nutty and I guess so has he. She's like the devil and he's one of those little imps that the devil makes do his dirty work and controls them. Oh man, I felt bad for him. She wa&lt;/span&gt;s ordering him around and giving him dirty looks. She would look at him and tell him he was an idiot. Once we started drinking, it got worse. She would look at him with this disgusted look on her face and tell him he completely grossed her out. He just took it. He also has a boatload of money and she doesn't work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The two couples were competing. It was crazy. If one of them had thought about buying a BMW, the other had thought about a Mercedes. If one had a $350,000 home, then the other had a $400,000 home. I just thought "How about wanting to have the best marriage...about being the happiest?"Nope, it was..."We're getting ready to go to Jamaica." "We're going to buy a second home in La Jolla." I was just happy I wasn't them. No matter how much I bitch about being poor, I would rather be poor and happy and single than rich and miserable and in a bad marriage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Myself and my best friend kept repeatedly thanking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://churchofbabyjesus.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;baby jesus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;that this wasn't us. Next time I'm thinking I want to find someone, I just need to remember this. I don't want to end up like these people, ever. Don't get me wrong...I'm not opposed to marriage and I don't think everyone ends up like this. But for fuck's sake patrick, I'm in no hurry to meet someone and tie the knot. Not if I'm not 100% sure. I wanted to get married before and think "Thank goodness I didn't" because I'm not even with that person anymore. Where would I be now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The End&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;P.S. Has anyone ever gotten up on the roof to help their parents hook up the AC in 90 degree weather with a MASSIVE hangover caused by the effects of beer, margaritas (lots!), vodka and red bull (lots!), tequila shots (2), more beers, more vodka red bull, and then vodka sodas? Let me tell you, if you have never done this...don't. I was standing on the roof, liquor-scented sweat literally pouring down my face, and wondering exactly how bad it would hurt if I lost my balance and plummeted to the cement. Not kidding...do not, I repeat, DO NOT try this at home.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111384396713838901?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111384396713838901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111384396713838901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111384396713838901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111384396713838901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/why-im-happy-im-not-married.html' title='Why I&apos;m happy I&apos;m not married.'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111359491996200255</id><published>2005-04-15T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T12:55:19.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm official</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So yes it's Friday again.  That's good news.  Of course, every other thing I can think of right now isn't the best of news.  Well, I have a game called "What good luck...what bad luck" that I'm going to go ahead and bestow upon you right now.  I know you probably don't want to hear it.  I'm sorry, but guess what....?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: Today is Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What bad luck: It's tax day and I owe the IRS hundreds of $$$s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Now, the above is an example, thank goodness I don't really owe them shiite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So, here we go fo' real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: My boss isn't in the office to bug me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What bad luck: He's calling me every 5 minutes with annoying questions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: The end of the week is the easiest because all the ads are done for the weekend already.&lt;br /&gt;What bad luck: This week the owner gave me a ridiculous, time consuming, research laden task to complete and I want to kill someone right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: The weather is beautiful, sunny, 82 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;What bad luck: I'm stuck inside my office where it is neither beautiful nor sunny, but is in fact also at least 82 degrees.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: I get paid today!!&lt;br /&gt;What bad luck: My whole paycheck is already gone!! (yeah, those !!! shouldn't be there)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: Tomorrow is Saturday, my day to sleep in!&lt;br /&gt;What bad luck: My friend came in town to baptize her baby and the baptism is at 9am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What good luck: Only 3 more hours til 5 o'clock (is that good??)&lt;br /&gt;What bad luck: I don't get off until 6 or 6:30.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Man, if it wasn't Friday, I'd be really salty right about now.  Well, gotta go complete my totally pointless, time consuming, ridiculously absurd, not-gonna-be-used-for-anything-ever-I-know-it assignment. What is it call if you go postal and you don't work at the post office?? Do you go "official"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111359491996200255?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111359491996200255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111359491996200255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111359491996200255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111359491996200255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-official.html' title='I&apos;m official'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111351100042377149</id><published>2005-04-14T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T13:36:40.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retaliation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Since I'm not feelin' it today, I'm posting my FF instead.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Flash Fiction as always provided by the kind people over at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://diminishedfifth.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;www.diminishedfifth.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; those people of course being one mister grimace. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Rules are as always: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;250 words &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Theme: compensation &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Phrase for the week: came in slowly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Damn this place!  And damn this chair! And this desk! And these drawers!  Damn it all! " Alisa screamed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Whoa, relax.  Just calm down.  What's going on?"  Jason asked, looking puzzled and a little freaked out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"WHAT'S GOING ON?! I'LL &lt;em&gt;TELL&lt;/em&gt; YOU WHAT'S GOING ON!!!&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;That bastard is hiring McCullough to take over as head of Corporate Affairs! All I ever did was work my &lt;em&gt;ass&lt;/em&gt; off for him and this is how he repays me??!!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Alisa was beyond calming.  Jason's eyes grew wide as Alisa's fit turned into a rage.  Alexandra McCullough was not only the brightest star in the entire corporation, she was also the biggest bitch, and she was standing right outside the door.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Alexandra peeked her head into the office and then came in slowly  as to avoid any violence that might make it's way in her direction.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Oh, Alisa honey.  Don't worry.  It's not your fault that you're not as smart or as well-respected as I am.  To be quite honest, I don't see how you got this job in the first place.  You can go back to working your graveyard shift at the Wal-Mart...back to your own kind.  That will make everyone happy now, won't it?" Alexandra condescended. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Alisa looked down and noticed the white-knuckled death grip she held on the crystal frame that displayed her wedding photo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Bitch, this is so worth it." Alisa snarled as she hurled the frame at Alexandra's head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111351100042377149?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111351100042377149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111351100042377149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111351100042377149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111351100042377149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/retaliation.html' title='Retaliation'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111340455478569301</id><published>2005-04-13T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T08:02:34.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boobie Gorillabrains</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This was great. You guys have to try it and it won't give your "secret identities" away.  The following is an excerpt from a children's book, "Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants" by Dave Pilkey. The evil Professor forces everyone to assume new names. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What's your "Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants" name? Use the third letter of your first name to determine your new first name: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a = snickle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;b = doombah &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;c = goober &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;d = cheesey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e = crusty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;f = greasy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;g = dumbo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;h = farcus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i = dorky &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;j = doofus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;k = funky &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;l = boobie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;m = sleezy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;n = sloopy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;o = fluffy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p = stinky &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;q = slimy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;r = dorfus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;s = snooty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;t = tootsie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;u = dipsy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;v = sneezy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;w = liver &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;x = skippy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;y = dinky &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;z = zippy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Use the second letter of your middle name to determine the first half of your new last name: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a = dippin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;b = feather &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;c = giggle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;d = burger &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e = chicken &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;f = barffy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;g = lizard &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;h = waffle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i = farkle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;j = monkey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;k = flippin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;l = fricken &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;m = bubble &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;n = rhino &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;o = potty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p = hamster &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;q = buckle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;r = gizzard &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;s = lickin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;t = snickle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;u = chuckle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;v = pickle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;w = hubble &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;x = dingle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;y = gorilla &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;z = girdle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Use the third letter of your last name to determine the second half of your new last name: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a = butt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;b = boob &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;c = face &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;d = nose &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e = hump &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;f = breath &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;g = pants &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;h = shorts &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i = lips &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;j = honker &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;k = head &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;l = tush &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;m = chunks &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;n = dunkin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;o = brains &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;p = biscuits &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;q = toes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;r = doodle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;s = fanny &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;t = sniffer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;u = sprinkles &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;v = frack &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;w = squirt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;x = humperdinck &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;y = hiney &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;z = juice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thus, for example, George W. Bush's new name is Fluffy Chucklefanny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111340455478569301?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111340455478569301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111340455478569301&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111340455478569301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111340455478569301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/boobie-gorillabrains.html' title='Boobie Gorillabrains'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9932418.post-111332114439062860</id><published>2005-04-12T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T08:52:24.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ma-ia-hee...ma-ia-hoo...ma-ia-haaa...ma-ia-haha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I can't get it out of my head. It won't stop. Someone please help me. It might be more addictive than "badger badger badger badger badger badger....muuuushrooom muuushrooom!"  Although most likely not as annoying or as creepy.  I'm sure you guys have heard it.  The kid was on Good Morning America (does it mean I'm old that I watch GMA while I'm getting ready for work??).  It is quite hilarious but I showed all my friends and all of us last night were singing it.  I'd finally get rid of it and then someone else would bust out "Alo....Salut" and there it goes again.  If you haven't seen or heard the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/206373"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Numa numa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;dance (click on "Watch this movie") it's great....if you dare.  Don't say I didn't warn you. Also...if you wanna see Napoleon's choreographed moves to the song, go&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flashplayer.com/music/napoleonnumadance.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(I found this by mistake).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9932418-111332114439062860?l=bizarroworlds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/feeds/111332114439062860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9932418&amp;postID=111332114439062860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111332114439062860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9932418/posts/default/111332114439062860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bizarroworlds.blogspot.com/2005/04/ma-ia-heema-ia-hooma-ia-haaama-ia-haha.html' title='ma-ia-hee...ma-ia-hoo...ma-ia-haaa...ma-ia-haha'/><author><name>KelBel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13948787484556553263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YJ5Q399c_A/TNhhq_4f2FI/AAAAAAAAABQ/g1xiVtWpoM4/S220/IMG00166-20101024-1726.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
