<?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-14103153</id><updated>2011-09-05T02:26:43.654-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mister Blue Sky</title><subtitle type='html'>"  Hey there Mr.Blue, we're so pleased to be with you.
   Look around, see what you do.
   Everybody's positive."

                         -Electric Light Orchestra</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112478532023145752</id><published>2005-08-23T02:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T02:39:28.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"And there could be no reason 'cuz there are no reasons.  What reason do you need to be shown?  Tell me why I don't like Mondays."-The Boomtown Rats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Twenty-six days until my vacation starts.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;Twenty four days until I turn twenty-six.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;(cash donations are gladly accepted)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;That aside, 'sup peeps. Been a hell of a week, eh? Well, for me anyway. And I NEED a vacation (in case you didn't read the large print). Soon. Tomorrow, if possible. Summer's almost gone and I've done NOTHING. I live at work, I swear. I can't wait to not have to go for a week. Whatever shall I do with myself? Hmmm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;I started this week off where everyone wants to be first thing on a Monday. The bloody DMV. 'Cuz I lost my license. I don't know where, or when, but it's gone. And I needed it for reasons I'll explain later. So I got up earlier than usual today (by maybe fifteen minutes...hey, that's an accomplishment for me) and left the house with enough time to stop and hopefully not have to wait in line with thirty other sheep to get a duplicate copy. Yet when I reached the DMV, lo and behold, there was only one other person in front of me. How can this be? I filled out my application and still there was just me. I rubbed my eyes, looked again. Nope. Nobody. I approached the counter, handed the nice officer my money, read the fifth line on that crazy fucking eye machine ( remember, I had only been awake for approximately thirty minutes at this point), and walked out the door ten minutes later, new ID in hand. How impressed was I? Geez, I should get up early more often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;I hesitate to relay the story of WHY I needed a new ID so badly in the first place. I'm cringing as we speak at my stupidity. Remember that checking account I opened? Yeah. Got my debit card in the mail on Tuesday. It has tomatoes on it. I was pretty excited. I got up on Wednesday and called the credit union's automated system to see if my direct deposit and sure enough there was 100 dollars just waiting to fly out of the bank by way of my debit card. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;But I was gonna behave, I swear. I just wanted twenty dollars for gas and cigarettes. Really! I used the ATM at the bank that's next to the Starbucks that's ten seconds from work to activate my card. I took the cash, I took the receipt. What didn't I take? The goddamn card. I'm an idiot. I stopped at Starbucks and got my coffee, got to work only five minutes late and only realized I din't have my card when I reached over to grab my wallet and card from the passenger seat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;So I sped back to the bank and explained the situation rather sheepishly to the teller. They extracted my card from the machine, all the while telling me how &lt;em&gt;THE POLICY&lt;/em&gt; requires them to cut it up due to it being a card from a "foreign" bank. But it must have been my LUCKY day, 'cuz they agreed amongst each other that they could "sign off" on the form and give me my card back. Why thanks, kind old hag bank teller. How sweet of you. She asked for my ID and when I opened my wallet IT WAS GONE. I went to my car. Not there. So I had to beg them to believe me. They didn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;So I got to work twenty minutes late and fuming. I called those ladies some really bad names let me tell you. But I was cursing myself, too. ONE DAY! That's all it took for me to lose the damn card. And on top of that, the only time I ever really need my ID (I don't even get carded at the bar that often anymore) I friggin lose that, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;"&gt;So I stewed all day Wednesday about it, and went back to the bank on Thursday before work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;with anything I could find that had my name or address on it to prove it was my card. No dice. And more attitude. I left the bank seeing flames behind my eyeballs and ready to explode. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;But I got it back. And I'm thankful at least for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112478532023145752?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112478532023145752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112478532023145752&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112478532023145752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112478532023145752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/08/and-there-could-be-no-reason-cuz-there.html' title='&quot;And there could be no reason &apos;cuz there are no reasons.  What reason do you need to be shown?  Tell me why I don&apos;t like Mondays.&quot;-The Boomtown Rats'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112383370917874881</id><published>2005-08-12T02:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T04:07:02.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"All I wannna do is to thank you, even though I don't know who you are.  You wouldn't let me change lanes while I was driving in car."-Geggy Tah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1214/1266/1600/minigolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1214/1266/320/minigolf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&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="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Say hello to &lt;a href="http://www.marcata.net/walkmen/"&gt;The Walkmen&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's that? You've heard of them? Then say hello again. Be polite. If you don't know them, you should. Check out &lt;a href="http://www.marcata.net/walkmen/video.htm"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; video for the song &lt;em&gt;We've Been Had &lt;/em&gt;for a little taste. You'll thank me later.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm listening to XM again. Bob Marley's on right now. Oh yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I bet you're all just DYING to hear all the wonderful details of my amazingly productive day off. I know you are. I can see you all now, perched on the edge of your seats. Oh...never mind...you're reaching for your drink. I see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But really, I did have a productive day, even if it did include going to work TWICE. Jesus, I can't stay away. The first time was to get my check and stop by the department and grab my sunglasses, cuz I left them there yesterday. I talked to Ben for a few minutes and then tried to dodge out as fast as I could before anyone else stopped me. Every time I go in I end up spending longer than is necessary due to the fact that I socialize with EVERYBODY. It's ridiculous really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then I gassed up the car, stopped for coffee (which I drank about a quarter of), and proceeded to spend lots of the cash that had only lived in my pocket for about twenty minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My first stop was Sears (it would have been &lt;a href="http://www.turnitup.com/"&gt;Turn It Up&lt;/a&gt;, but I was a good boy and I walked right by it). I needed face wash and such, and I figured while I was in there I'd look for a new shower curtain liner. Heather and I found a white fabric shower curtain with little embroidered flowers and butterflies and leaves and stuff in one of the cabinets in the bathroom and decided we were gonna put it up without consulting Nick. Where do you think was the first place I looked for shower curtains? Where else but in the electronics department. Yeah. They weren't there. But they did have lots of big TVs that I debated trying to smuggle out to my car by way of my shirt. Once I'd finally convinced myself that it wasn't possible I actually made it to the bed and bath department and found like three shower curtains, and none of them the kind I needed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So then it was off to BB+B (Bed Bath and Beyond for you abbreviationally challenged folks out there) and an inevitable stop at Borders. I spent an hour and a half in Borders, just looking at CDs. I went in there to buy Brandon a replacement of the book I borrowed from him and lost, and after I found it I got lost in the music section. Again, I stopped myself from buying a CD, even though, at times, it was VERY difficult. At BB+B I grabbed not only a new shower curtain liner, but a new curtain rod and new hooks. Mission accomplished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Somewhere in the middle of all that, I paid the cable bill and drove laps around Keene as I always do on my days off. I put the shower curtain up when I got home and decided that the flowers and butterflies and such really didn't look all that bad. Nick didn't seem to mind either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then it was back into Keene and back to Hannafords to do some grocery shopping and even more socializing and pick Heather up. When I walked in I walked through the front end to see when she'd be done. I glanced toward the express lanes and there in the first lane was a girl I went to high school with, Beth, whom I haven't seen in at least two years. I walked her out to the parking lot and we stood next to her car and caught each other up on all the things we've been up to lately. It was good to see her, which is usually a rare occurrence when it comes to people from high school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Back inside to do some grocery shopping, and boy did I ever shop. But it's always a good feeling to have food in the house, and I'm not talkin' just bread and peanut butter. At some point I decided to have dinner with Nick and Heather. They had already decided on shells and meat sauce, so I grabbed salad fixin's and some yummy carrot and ginger vinaigrette dressing that Hannaford just added to it's product line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And so, after a great dinner, a few beers, a bowl upstairs with Amy and Brandon, and some fine tunage from XM, I think it's time for sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112383370917874881?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112383370917874881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112383370917874881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112383370917874881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112383370917874881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/08/all-i-wannna-do-is-to-thank-you-even.html' title='&quot;All I wannna do is to thank you, even though I don&apos;t know who you are.  You wouldn&apos;t let me change lanes while I was driving in car.&quot;-Geggy Tah'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112374778784176094</id><published>2005-08-11T02:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T04:12:43.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"My plane landed, I'm alive.  I'm not fighting withe thing's I never thought I'd do to survive.  I've finally arrived."-The Folk Implosion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I woke up today thinking, as always, that it would be a rotten, horrendous, catastrophic day. I knew that I was alone for most of the shift, and I dreaded it. I went through the same routine I go through every morning. I left late as I usually do, and decided &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-url/index=music&amp;field-keywords=Pablo%20Honey&amp;amp;search-type=ss&amp;bq=1/102-3888040-5960126"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Radiohead's &lt;em&gt;Pablo Honey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; would be good driving-to-work music. In my bag (It's NOT a manpurse...it's a messenger bag...) I had all the quarters I could scrounge as the days expenditure account. Let's see, that means dinner and smokes and that's about it. No coffee on break, no extra snacks. Just Ramen noodles and meat ends from the deli on a bagel. HMMMM. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;When I got to the store it was busy, as it has been lately. But for once the day didn't suck as much as I thought it would. It was tiring, yes. For some reason, though, I didn't really think much about how bad it sucked and it went by faster than most days do. What a refreshing change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Did the same old thing yesterday. I Katie wrangled while Brandon got a haircut. Hot damn, she is one FEARLESS three year old. She asked everyone in the waiting room at least once for money. Yeah. That's right. She wanted M&amp;amp;Ms from the little quarter machine and by God she was gonna get 'em. I distracted her with blocks and that worked for a while, but she went back to pan-handling again so I decided it was time for a little fresh air. After a shoulder ride and the dubious pleasure of seeing me do a headstand, she was a bit easier to control and Brandon rescued me soon after.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then it was off to hang with the 'rents for a while. My dad's decided to get rid of all the vinyl he still has so he gave it ALL to me. I thought I was gonna pass out when I saw how many there still are. I took two long wooden crates last night and there are more. I now have four, yes four, copies of Hotel California. Anyone wanna buy one? And there's LOADS more. Whose the happiest boy in the world? Oh yeah, it's me, isn't it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I got home and watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112817/"&gt;Dead Man&lt;/a&gt; with Nick and Heather. Definitely a movie everyone should watch. Johnny Depp and Iggy Pop and Billy Bob Thornton, oh my! Being stoned didn't hurt either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tonight we watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092991/"&gt;Evil Dead II&lt;/a&gt;. I must say I liked the first better, but this one's definitely fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Don't have to work today and it's payday. Yeah baby. Gonna go get my cable bill paid and buy myself somethin' nice I think. And I can buy GROCERIES! HOORAY! Real food. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bed now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Sleepy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112374778784176094?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112374778784176094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112374778784176094&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112374778784176094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112374778784176094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-plane-landed-im-alive-im-not.html' title='&quot;My plane landed, I&apos;m alive.  I&apos;m not fighting withe thing&apos;s I never thought I&apos;d do to survive.  I&apos;ve finally arrived.&quot;-The Folk Implosion'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112357053281698314</id><published>2005-08-09T01:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T03:02:54.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"And when I was down and failing life, you came and saved me, my Cococo.  And when they said I'm telling lies, you believed me, my Cococo."-Stellastar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of those days. Didn't want to wake up and yet I still made it to work earlier than usual. I've had no ambition at all today and I started to get really cranky towards the end of my shift at work. I just wanted to be out of there. I don't have to work tomorrow, so I really wanted to get today over with so that I could come home and chill tonight. I had a good night last night with the roomies and I wanted to do this for a little while and relax before Brandon got home from work. But instead of doing this I did dishes (again) while I listened to some vinyl and made myself dinner. Sometimes that's the easiest way for me to unwind after I get out of work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;So like I said, had a good night last night. Nick made dinner for the three of us. He made a tasty Granny Smith and Muenster stuffed pork loin with risotto and zucchini, summer squash, and sun-dried tomatoes. We ate, smoked a joint, and watched Full Metal Jacket. I hadn't seen that movie in so long and I got really into it. I forgot how much I liked it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;But tonight was neighbor night. Heather and Nick went out and I went upstairs. They got home trashed and were trying to get my attention upstairs by throwing stuff at the house. I thought nothing of it, albeit pretty obnoxious, but Amy hollered out the window for them to stop. I came downstairs to say hey and Heather lit into me about how much of a bitch Amy was and all sorts of other drunken nonsense so I walked out and went back upstairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;Now, I've told both sides that I don't want to be in the middle of any sort of petty domestic squabbles that occur between them. I REALLY get tired of hearing either side bad-mouth the other. And tonight was a classic example. I AM SWITZERLAND. I am NOT and WILL NOT choose sides. There have been so many squabbles about Nick spinning too late or Amy being anti-social and I, of course, have been the go-between. I know that I am hardly the one to say this because I'm sure that if you asked other parties (who shall remain nameless) they would attest that I can be pretty childish sometimes, but GROW UP. If there's a problem, address each other like adults. What the f people. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. Jesus. We have to share the house for JUST a little while longer. We should at least be somewhat neighborly or just stay the bloody hell away from each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;Yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;So now I'm even crankier. And Heather sent me a text message saying she couldn't believe I "let Amy talk to us like that". I didn't LET anybody do anything. She makes her own choices. But I replied that I'd rather not talk about it tonight. And I won't. That's better sober talk. This is my way of trying to shrug the whole stupid episode off so that we can discuss this tomorrow civily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;See? One of those days. It's because I cut my own hair, I know it. I'm not happy with it and as a result I'm all off. So if I glue it back on with one of those funky-smelling glue sticks, that'll make everything better, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;It's not that short really. I got tired of it being all out of control and shaggy so I used Nick's clippers with a quarter inch attachment. I figured it takes off a quarter of an inch, right? Nope. It LEAVES a quarter of an inch. Whoops. So now I look twelve again. There's this picture of me at my sixth grade graduation with hair this short. I see that in the mirror every day when I get up. Oy. I hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yep. Good times.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112357053281698314?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112357053281698314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112357053281698314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112357053281698314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112357053281698314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/08/and-when-i-was-down-and-failing-life.html' title='&quot;And when I was down and failing life, you came and saved me, my Cococo.  And when they said I&apos;m telling lies, you believed me, my Cococo.&quot;-Stellastar'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112320104010384485</id><published>2005-08-04T20:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T21:47:02.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Will you, won't you be my leech, take it all and when I screech, leave it there just out of reach."-David Gray</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Holy mother of GOD it's frickin' hot. Just chillin' today, taking it easy. Nick and I got pretty plastered last night. Heather had to work at seven this morning so she went to bed seriously early. Having no doobage, Nick decided that he'd make us drinks. So we sat around drinking Canadian Club and Coke all night. We had a smashing time, just the two of us getting drunk and talking. My stomach's been a bit all day as a result, but you take the good with the bad right?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;That's the second night this week that I've over-indulged a little. Monday night Emily's friend turned eighteen (EIGHTEEN!!!! DAMN! Was that really almost eight years ago?) so she threw a birthday party for her. She asked me if I wanted to go and I figured what the hell. So I went after work equipped with my own twelve pack of Pabst (PBR baby...cheap and DAMN good.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and proceeded to get a bit tipsy playing beer pong, because everyone knows that that's what you do when you're at the kind of party where Pabst is acceptable. It was a good time, and I think Megan thoroughly enjoyed her very own Club Meg.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And Nick gave me his username and password for his XM radio account, so I can listen on my computer. Holy god. There's so much to choose from I just don't know where to start. My only problem is the fact that, just like regular radio, I have to keep changing the station, because I'll hear a few good songs, and then they'll play something I hate. Right now I'm listening to a remix of Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl (Yes, I DO like that song. There, I've said it.) that's not so bad. Dear me, where do I go next?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh yeah, I almost forgot the two most excellent things that happened this week. Number one, I got my cellphone. It was way easier than I expected it to be. I figured they'd run my info and lights would start flashing and alarms would go off and they'd laugh and point out how HORRIBLE my credit is. But not T-Mobile. Those nice folks gave me six hundred minutes a month, unlimited nights and weekends, and a &lt;a href="http://www.tmobile.com/products/images.asp?phoneid=252134&amp;amp;class=phone"&gt;cool-ass flip phone&lt;/a&gt;. And what do you think was the first thing I did? Oh yeah, definitely downloaded a ringtone. Now every time my phone rings I hear the Flaming Lips. And I downloaded Kermit as my wallpaper. I know, I'm a MASSIVE dork. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Number two, I FINALLY opened a savings account and a checking account through the credit union at work. Yeah baby. One more step towards trying to fix this stupid lousy credit curse. I set up direct deposit for both, fifty bucks in savings a week and a hundred in checking a week. The rest I'll get in a check. That's why I decided to use the credit union in the first place, because I can split up the direct deposits, and it doesn't have to be my whole check. Yeah baby. I'm so proud of myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And finally, Nick still hasn't bothered to contact me. Figures. I said it before, and I'll say it one more time. I'm done making the effort. When he decides that I'm good enough to be his friend, he knows where to find me. And that's enough about that. I'm not gonna make myself sick thinking about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, that's all for now. Upstairs tonight to watch Constantine and back to work (read HELL) tomorrow. WHEEEE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112320104010384485?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112320104010384485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112320104010384485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112320104010384485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112320104010384485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/08/will-you-wont-you-be-my-leech-take-it.html' title='&quot;Will you, won&apos;t you be my leech, take it all and when I screech, leave it there just out of reach.&quot;-David Gray'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112271075336207081</id><published>2005-07-30T03:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T04:06:40.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water and pictures of you, and I'm not coming out until this is all over." -The Postal Service</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;-Hipolito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Another quiet Friday. VERY busy day at work. Lots of annoying customers. Nick and Heather went to Foxwoods. I came home and BLASTED Postal Service on my turntable and cooked myself a fantabulous dinner of cheese tortellini and meat sauce. I ate dinner and polished off three beers in a sixer before Amy and Brandon came home and I joined them upstairs where I finished my sixer while we smoked and watched Amelie. Good night. And I'm going to T-Mobile tomorrow to get my phone. Amy and I are going to hit the mall where I'll get my phone and then I think we might hit Portsmouth. Not sure. I'm probably going to be a bit hungover&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112271075336207081?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112271075336207081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112271075336207081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112271075336207081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112271075336207081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/ive-got-cupboard-with-cans-of-food.html' title='&quot;I&apos;ve got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water and pictures of you, and I&apos;m not coming out until this is all over.&quot; -The Postal Service'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112242407262830651</id><published>2005-07-26T20:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T20:27:52.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Cuz I'm a man, not a boy, and there are things you can't avoid.  You have to face them when you're not prepared to face them." -The Flaming Lips</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm bored.  Utterly incredibly bored.  And I've accomplished nothing at all today.  I went and got coffee (at Brewbakers...I actually got a full one today) and then went hunting for prepaid cellphones.  Came home empty handed.  Now I'm trying to think of ANYTHING to do and not coming up with much.  I think I'll just go get some food and maybe a movie.  I thought about cleaning my room, but it's such a daunting task.  I think O'd rather just sit around.  HO HUM.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112242407262830651?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112242407262830651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112242407262830651&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112242407262830651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112242407262830651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/cuz-im-man-not-boy-and-there-are.html' title='&quot;Cuz I&apos;m a man, not a boy, and there are things you can&apos;t avoid.  You have to face them when you&apos;re not prepared to face them.&quot; -The Flaming Lips'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112218960711763305</id><published>2005-07-24T03:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T03:21:42.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"If you're just staring at your walls, observing echoing footfalls, from tenants wandering distant halls, then this one is for you." -Phish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I decided to go to the movie. It was good. Better than I expected. Not phenomenal, but definitely good. There were some damn good action sequences. The car chase from the trailer was pretty friggin' cool, let me tell you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And it's a bit weird smokin' butts in a theater. I felt like such a rebel. Thanks for a good night Emily. I needed that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112218960711763305?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112218960711763305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112218960711763305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112218960711763305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112218960711763305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/if-youre-just-staring-at-your-walls.html' title='&quot;If you&apos;re just staring at your walls, observing echoing footfalls, from tenants wandering distant halls, then this one is for you.&quot; -Phish'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112217304370842650</id><published>2005-07-23T22:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T23:01:32.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"When I try to get through, on the telephone, to you, there's still nobody home." -Pink Floyd</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yeah. Another no contact weekend. But I guess I'm &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;not really shocked. It's only been a month or so. But who's counting. I said I wasn't going to make an effort anymore, and I'm not. Whether the excuse is class, a new "beau", family obligations, makes no difference to me. I thought the point was to always make time for your friends. The ones that lend you money and buy you dinner, that give you advice and listen to you complain. I guess I was wrong (again).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But enough about that. This girl at work asked if I wanted to go to a private midnight showing of &lt;a href="http://www.theisland-themovie.com/"&gt;The Island&lt;/a&gt;, that new movie with Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansen, and I think I might just go. It'll be good to get out of the house and hang out with someone other than the work posse or the fam. That movie doesn't look amazing, but hopefully it'll be ok. And besides, it's free so what the hell, right? I've got twenty minutes to make up my mind.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112217304370842650?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112217304370842650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112217304370842650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112217304370842650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112217304370842650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/when-i-try-to-get-through-on-telephone.html' title='&quot;When I try to get through, on the telephone, to you, there&apos;s still nobody home.&quot; -Pink Floyd'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112210687326748926</id><published>2005-07-23T03:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T04:22:19.613-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Come on in.  I've got to tell you what a state I'm in.  I've got to tell you in my loudest tones." -Coldplay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've discovered Winamp radio. What fun. And I can watch all SORTS of videos. Songs that I'd forgotten about. WEEE...I'm trying to figure out a way to broadcast a playlist from this page. I downloaded some Shoutcast programs, so now all I have to do is get the ins-and-outs of it figured out and hopefully I'll be able to rig something up. We'll see.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Boring week. High points? We watched Million Dollar Baby. I thought that I'd hate it. I liked it. Quite a bit actually. It's a bit of a downer, though. Nick hated it. He said the dialogue was lame and I agree that at times it kinda was, but it was still good. Check it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Obviously didn't win at Foxwoods (SURPRISE!). Had an OK time. Bit of family overdose. Didn't come home broke though. I actually didn't spend as much as I thought I might. I have a problem stopping myself sometimes. My money just jumps right out of my pocket. I should really work on that. It gets me into trouble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And my coffee shop SUCKS now. Ellen sold it and now some asshole decided it would be fun to sell all the coffee snobs in town three quarters of a cup of weak-ass crap coffee for three dollars and twenty-five cents. So screw it. I no longer boycott Starbucks (not that I ever did). At least they'll serve me my full cup of coffee...And I still tipped the son of a bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And I get another Saturday off..Yippee. Of course, it's rent week, so my check on Thursday is already accounted for. I was gonna try and find myself somethin' groovy to do, but I think that's probably out of the question now. Figures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh well...Off to bed. Resting up for another wonderful day in the life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112210687326748926?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112210687326748926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112210687326748926&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112210687326748926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112210687326748926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/come-on-in-ive-got-to-tell-you-what.html' title='&quot;Come on in.  I&apos;ve got to tell you what a state I&apos;m in.  I&apos;ve got to tell you in my loudest tones.&quot; -Coldplay'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112166941480577298</id><published>2005-07-18T02:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T03:49:10.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"The future looked so bright then.  What happened tonight?  Now aeroplanes are crashing.  Who turned out the light?"-Sondre Lerche</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1214/1266/1600/14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1214/1266/320/14.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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go &lt;a href="http://www.sondrelerche.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Hear this boy. He's Norwegian. I'm obsessed. I downloaded twelve or thirteen songs Friday night and now that's all I'm listening to. I can't stop. I found a ton of &lt;a href="http://www.benkweller.com"&gt;Ben Kweller&lt;/a&gt;, too. A bit more on the rockin' side than our boy Sondre, but mucho entertaining. And, for a little more of Ben, I found two tasty little nuggets that I've been searching in vain for until now. See, Ben had a side project going with &lt;a href="http://www.benfolds.com"&gt;Ben Folds&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://ben-lee.com"&gt;Ben Lee&lt;/a&gt;. It was called (wait for it) &lt;a href="http://www.attackedbyplastic.com"&gt;The Bens&lt;/a&gt;. I'd heard one fraction of a song and, as I love Folds and Kweller, was super excited to find these little gems cleverly disguised as Kweller tracks. And lastly I found some &lt;a href="http://www.saddle-creek.com"&gt;Bright Eyes&lt;/a&gt;. Dear Conor Oberst tires to make you feel his pain with his voice, and is somewhat successful sometimes, but kind overdoes it sometimes as well. It's still very much good stuff. Good long-drive-by-yourself-with-the-windows-down music.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So yeah. Lot's of new music. Headed to Foxwoods today with the fam to gamble (read piss away) my pennies. If I win, I get concert tickets this summer. I need to go to a show. That's my goal for the summer. Screw the bills, screw everything else. I'm treating myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And of course it's raining again. My car smells like a dirty wet sock and my Yankee Candle Honeydew Melon Car Jar. Who wants a ride...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112166941480577298?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112166941480577298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112166941480577298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112166941480577298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112166941480577298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/future-looked-so-bright-then-what.html' title='&quot;The future looked so bright then.  What happened tonight?  Now aeroplanes are crashing.  Who turned out the light?&quot;-Sondre Lerche'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112149072762696314</id><published>2005-07-16T00:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T01:21:08.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Sleep, I sleep every day.  Wipe the cobwebs away.  I need to be loved."-Starsailor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah...So I followed through with my plan. And Ryanne never showed. Neither did Peter. The two people who harassed me the most about showing up didn't show. Nice. And I was bored to death. Christ. I guess that's some sort of karma. And Nick didn't call either. I have a feeling he knew I was going to blow him off. Whatever. Always count on your friends right? So now it's quarter after one on a Friday night/Saturday morning and I'm bored...and lonely. And my petty, stupid, childish plan didn't work. What the F.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112149072762696314?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112149072762696314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112149072762696314&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112149072762696314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112149072762696314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/sleep-i-sleep-every-day-wipe-cobwebs.html' title='&quot;Sleep, I sleep every day.  Wipe the cobwebs away.  I need to be loved.&quot;-Starsailor'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112132628239933958</id><published>2005-07-14T03:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T03:31:22.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"My whole life is like a picture of a sunny day."-Sleater-Kinney</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112132628239933958?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112132628239933958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112132628239933958&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112132628239933958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112132628239933958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-whole-life-is-like-picture-of-sunny.html' title='&quot;My whole life is like a picture of a sunny day.&quot;-Sleater-Kinney'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112123972991349913</id><published>2005-07-13T02:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T03:29:47.990-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"But lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel." -Incubus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My friend Ryanne invited me out for drinks with the gang on Friday. I said yes. Know why? Mainly cuz they're a fine group of folks. And maybe Peter will be there. And Nick'll probably blow me off anyway. We sort of have tentative plans. But I'd rather go out with the gang. Whatever. I'm sure he'll find something to do. Besides, I could do without the inevitable "get your phone turned on" lecture or the "where does all your money go" refrain. I just want to go out, drink some beer, have some frickin' fun. And it's not like he's made much of an effort lately. I leave messages. He knows where I live. And yet it's been three weeks of being swept aside for the new BF (another I'll be "fortunate" enough not to meet) and dinners and drinks with more interesting friends than little old me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't know. I give up. I don't think I want to play this game anymore. I'm tired of being the one that everyone forgets. It's no fun being left out, spending a rare weekend day off waiting. I should be anywhere else but here.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112123972991349913?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112123972991349913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112123972991349913&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112123972991349913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112123972991349913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/but-lately-im-beginning-to-find-that-i.html' title='&quot;But lately I&apos;m beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel.&quot; -Incubus'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112104919850635806</id><published>2005-07-10T22:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T22:34:59.970-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"When I was young, younger than before I never saw the truth hanging from the door." -Nick Drake</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I just really need a good cry. That's it. I can feel it. It's good to let it out sometimes. I don't really know what my problem is. Sometimes it's anger and frustration and other times it's just this deep, deep sad. I don't know where it comes from. But it swallows me. And then I get angry at myself for being so depressed. And then I get angry at everyone else. Sometimes I have good days. Most of the the time I just mope. And sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Not much fun to be around, I suppose. I spent all week at home. And this weekend, too. I played Zelda...for six and a half hours. I haven't cleaned in four days. And the roomies are home tomorrow. And now I have to go upstairs and have dinner with the neighbors. I need to clean. But they expect me. I want to be by myself and listen to Nick Drake and clean my house. Why can't I say no?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112104919850635806?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112104919850635806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112104919850635806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112104919850635806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112104919850635806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/when-i-was-young-younger-than-before-i.html' title='&quot;When I was young, younger than before I never saw the truth hanging from the door.&quot; -Nick Drake'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112080918361294659</id><published>2005-07-08T03:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T03:55:57.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Please don't confront me with my failures.  I have not forgotten them." -Nico</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Holy F-ing crap. I forgot how much I loved&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sigur-ros.co.uk/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sigur Ros&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Heavenly noise, I'm telling you. I finally rented The Life Aquatic and my two favorite things about it were the prolific use of David Bowie songs (mostly in Portuguese) and the fact that there was also a Sigur Ros song in it. I choked up a little. Yeah...I definitely did. The song was absolutely perfect for the scene. And the movie is wonderful. And I'm feeling all gushy the way I do when I've been really MOVED by a movie. Wes Anderson is a genius. And I was totally expecting to be disappointed. I loved The Royal Tennenbaums, and I was hoping that this movie would be as good. And my hopes were realized. Sometimes life is beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112080918361294659?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112080918361294659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112080918361294659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112080918361294659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112080918361294659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/please-dont-confront-me-with-my.html' title='&quot;Please don&apos;t confront me with my failures.  I have not forgotten them.&quot; -Nico'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112027664077667806</id><published>2005-07-01T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T03:12:39.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>" I am waiting for something to go wrong.  I am waiting for familiar results."  -Death Cab for Cutie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's raining again. It's rained all week. The driver's side window of my car is stuck down. Driver's side. The side I have to sit on to drive. What the F. Of course it would rain all week. And not just showers. End of the world rain. And yeah, I know I could have covered the window or something until I get it fixed. But COME ON! FOUR DAYS OF RAIN?!?! WHo'd I piss off. Damn. I try to keep my karma balanced, but apparently I fucked up somewhere. Whatever. I'm used to having things happen all at once. But did you ever have those days, weeks, months, when everything just seems wrong? From the minute you wake up to the minute you finally go to sleep, nothing feels right. It's no fun. And I swear it comes in cycles. And I'm in it right now, man. I'm in it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112027664077667806?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112027664077667806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112027664077667806&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112027664077667806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112027664077667806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-am-waiting-for-something-to-go-wrong.html' title='&quot; I am waiting for something to go wrong.  I am waiting for familiar results.&quot;  -Death Cab for Cutie'/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14103153.post-112020201814367297</id><published>2005-07-01T06:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T03:13:38.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;It's July first.  In approximately nine hours we will be halfway through the year 2005.  That means 182 and one half days are left.  Yahoo.  I'll get my party hat.  I'll be 26 in about two and a half months.  I have less than a third of a year left to be twenty five.  That's not a long time.  Aren't there certain things I was supposed to do by the time I was 25?  Maybe I should make a list.  Post it on the fridge.  Yeah, that's a good place for it.  I'm bound to see it there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;                &lt;em&gt;Things&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;To&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Accomplish&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;On&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;The&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Downhill&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Slide Towards Thirty&lt;/em&gt;      &lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;                         1.  &lt;em&gt; Remove my head from my rear end.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;                          &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;                         2.  Get a haircut&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;                         3.  Get a real job&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And so forth.                 &lt;em&gt;  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14103153-112020201814367297?l=thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/feeds/112020201814367297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14103153&amp;postID=112020201814367297&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112020201814367297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14103153/posts/default/112020201814367297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatblueskyguy.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-july-first.html' title=''/><author><name>Neil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14596584464952344263</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
