<?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-19637877</id><updated>2012-02-11T03:53:58.102-05:00</updated><category term='Better Days'/><category term='knowledge'/><category term='a laptop'/><category term='I&apos;m back beotches'/><category term='poem'/><category term='advice'/><category term='lala'/><category term='movies'/><category term='annoyed'/><category term='Family'/><category term='October'/><category term='chasing cars'/><category term='Alex'/><category term='crazy'/><category term='Jay Brannan'/><category term='Freshman'/><category term='Old'/><category term='north'/><category term='Towhnouse'/><category term='private'/><category term='Job'/><category term='Noah'/><category term='Wicker Man'/><category term='whatever'/><category term='picture'/><category term='Chicago'/><category term='Will I Am'/><category term='and a Robot'/><category term='Mute Math'/><category term='holly'/><category term='Last Entry'/><category term='Hiro'/><category term='Nic Cage'/><category term='tennis'/><category term='engagement'/><category term='Campbell Soup'/><title type='text'>I just Couldn't Help but notice</title><subtitle type='html'>The curious case of Les Campbell
" My Life is a unusual circumstance"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>283</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6101582338508549306</id><published>2010-05-28T15:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T15:45:48.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tengo Mucha Hambre!</title><content type='html'>For some reason I decided to miss lunch today which turns out was a bad idea. Compounded by the fact that I only had an apple, a granola bar, and yogurt for breakfast. OK, when taking inventory it sounds like I had a sizable amount of food this morning but it wasn't I'm starting to feel weak! At least I wasn't like the Sun's coach last night! Poor guy was throwing up on the sideline!!! Gross ( I won't link the vid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the summer is right around the corner, summer wedding are starting soon..Luckily I only have two this summer but there is a good amount of traveling in store for me. I'll be up in Michigan in July, Texas in August, Portland, OR in Sept, and San Pedro Sula Honduras in October! Damn I'm gonna go broke! As a wise man once said, it doesn't matter its all about family ( Ironically enough that man is now bankrupt, go figure!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm, my fingers are getting tired..so with only a couple of minutes till the holiday starts for yours truly I'll just end by saying I hope everyone that reads this or somehow got lost in the Internet tunnel that ended up here have a safe and fun memorial day. Remember its OK to wear white now! =) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, one more thing. BP better clean up this environmental cluster fuck that they have created. This is getting ridiculous! &lt;a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/multimedia/oilwildlife/?photos"&gt;We're staring at you BP!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6101582338508549306?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6101582338508549306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6101582338508549306' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6101582338508549306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6101582338508549306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/05/tengo-mucha-hambre.html' title='Tengo Mucha Hambre!'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7820233217602540098</id><published>2010-05-19T13:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T13:44:32.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Its never been this fun to get Lost.</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CLCAMPB%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;style&gt;&lt;!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal	{mso-style-parent:"";	margin:0in;	margin-bottom:.0001pt;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:12.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}p	{mso-margin-top-alt:auto;	margin-right:0in;	mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;	margin-left:0in;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:12.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}@page Section1	{size:8.5in 11.0in;	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;	mso-header-margin:.5in;	mso-footer-margin:.5in;	mso-paper-source:0;}div.Section1	{page:Section1;}--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I remember the first episode of Lost and how much I disliked it. I felt completely, well, lost. The mass number of characters, the chaos that ensued from the first episode coupled with my own theories on the plot ( little did I know that it would take more than just a glimpse to deduce this ever evolving story) I was over whelmed and ultimately tuned out.&lt;br /&gt;5 Season would go on and I would be living an cocoon of ignorance bliss. There would be satire references to show that would just go over my head or characters that I would see on movies that people would quickly say&lt;br /&gt;oh there were on &lt;i&gt;LOST&lt;/i&gt;. At first I just ignored them, but its popularity seemed to explode the more I resisted falling prey to its enthralling storyline and captivating cast. No, I would not fall into that trap. Instead I would watch horrible shows like One Tree Hill ( which should be cancelled by the way) or Nip/Tuck.&lt;br /&gt;Finally after some pleas from my friends and girl friend did start this belated story. I was so far behind but luckily my stubbornness also benefited me.&lt;br /&gt;Unlike most of the loyal followers/fan who had to wait a week between shows and months between seasons I had the fortunate luck of being able to just watch them straight through. I re-visited season 1, this time with an open mind and a patient attitude. Its took 3 episodes for me to admit that I was terribly wrong about the show, that it was perhaps the greatest adventure to be put on TV. To tell you the truth season's 1-3 where kinda a blur, I was trying to hold on for dear life as the show took me in and out of the space continuum, well not really, but I was hooked. My girlfriend who wanted to re watch the shows with me couldn't keep up. I was on a torrid pace to catch up to season 6 which was a month away.&lt;br /&gt;Now as there's one show left before sunday's finale I'm sad that the story has to end. Like any great story an end must be part of it.I have to say that my favorite season has to be season 5, the story well takes off there and we're able to put things together, not completely but there's a lot answers. My favorite Characters, well I really like Mr.Ecko, Sawyer, Juliette, Hurley, and Miles. Don't get me wrong Jack,Kate, and Locke are great but the role players really make the main characters shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny, I would of never really imagined myself being so into a show like this but then again I usually don't like getting LOST either!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7820233217602540098?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7820233217602540098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7820233217602540098' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7820233217602540098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7820233217602540098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-never-been-this-fun-to-get-lost.html' title='Its never been this fun to get Lost.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1433799915482436029</id><published>2010-05-03T16:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T16:49:47.989-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Towhnouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Job'/><title type='text'>So April just blew by...</title><content type='html'>This month,May, will be pretty much the same. I went last week to check up on the progress of my townhouse and it should be completed by the end of this month. Which is great, It will be nice to be moved in before the summer. It still feels odd that I'm buying a place here in Florida but I guess its about time to do big boy things. I think I'll give Florida 3 more years and then I'm moving north by that time 9 yrs is more than plenty of time for this part of the world. Anyways I'm feeling like I'm stuck at work. The signs are pointing to a dead end, while I'm extremely grateful for the past 3 yrs one can only go so far in a place that seems to have revolving doors when it comes to Upper Management. I'm hesitant due the current state of the economy though I know their are pocket of opportunities my experience leads me to believe that just like any other opportunity its about knowing the right people at the right time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I'm heading up to Grand Rapids this weekend to see the family for mother's day. Its always nice to go back and spend time with my family. Every visit just reminds me more and more how much I miss &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: yellow none repeat scroll 0% 0%;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;em..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I lived in a perfect world I'd be living in Chicago like I've always wanted to, its close enough to family that I can drive to them but far enough to keep them at bay! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S9822sCoXhI/AAAAAAAAAcc/B46gU4qfNqE/s1600/glasses.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S9822sCoXhI/AAAAAAAAAcc/B46gU4qfNqE/s320/glasses.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1433799915482436029?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1433799915482436029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1433799915482436029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1433799915482436029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1433799915482436029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/05/so-april-just-blew-by.html' title='So April just blew by...'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S9822sCoXhI/AAAAAAAAAcc/B46gU4qfNqE/s72-c/glasses.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4985740028522521530</id><published>2010-04-26T10:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T10:14:37.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The day everyting changed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S2yzNKYHRRE&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S2yzNKYHRRE&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4985740028522521530?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4985740028522521530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4985740028522521530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4985740028522521530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4985740028522521530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-everyting-changed.html' title='The day everyting changed.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7282108534838938594</id><published>2010-04-15T14:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T01:05:46.957-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally an interesting thing to talk about..</title><content type='html'>Its an usually slow day today so I'm able to read and vacuum&amp;nbsp;knowledge at an alarming rate. I came across this acticle @CNN.com&amp;nbsp;regarding a topic I think most people can relate to. &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/personal/04/15/rr.she.dates.your.ex/index.html?hpt=C2"&gt;Read it and tell me what you think?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok after reading that what would your position be? Hmm, Its an interesting position to be in. I never want to get in the way of love. My last girlfriend for as horrible of a person she turned out to be I still loved her dearly because she got me but seeing how most of my friends didn't like her I doubt any of them would date her (besides I hear she's engaged). I can't say the same about other girls but can I really have an objection to there courtship/love affair/entanglement just because I once had a strong connection to their now girlfriend? No, the fact remains that timing has as much to do with love. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know anyone elses feeling about it but its true that time does helps clear up those muddle feelings. I know for me that I analyzed and over analyzed why I did what I did to make it not work or vice versa. What I couldn't see then I see now, the timing just wasn't right and thats something you can't get back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly It does bother me that a friend would date an ex &lt;strike&gt;but just for the reason that I would have to see them again...&lt;/strike&gt; its weird to see, its uncomfortable, and ultimately its annoying. Sorry I can't be the bigger man and say it doesn't matter but it does matter. There's nothing more annoying then being surrounded by friends and then having an ex there with your friend, it feels like the air was zapped out of the room (the only thing more crappy would be going somewhere and to see a friend and them not telling you that an ex would be there and that their dating..its not funny its just mean-I guess I'm still peeved about that) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard to summarize but&amp;nbsp;the world is filled with wonderful,interesting, and beautiful people; Its hard to believe one&amp;nbsp;couldn't&amp;nbsp;find&amp;nbsp;someone that your friends haven't dated?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S8dag-1S87I/AAAAAAAAAcU/7bwv-E6cw70/s1600/gratiskitten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S8dag-1S87I/AAAAAAAAAcU/7bwv-E6cw70/s320/gratiskitten.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7282108534838938594?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7282108534838938594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7282108534838938594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7282108534838938594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7282108534838938594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/04/finally-interesting-to-talk-about.html' title='Finally an interesting thing to talk about..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S8dag-1S87I/AAAAAAAAAcU/7bwv-E6cw70/s72-c/gratiskitten.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-916859399623089018</id><published>2010-04-01T14:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T14:59:06.592-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a project</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S7TsUXSIPXI/AAAAAAAAAbo/bagphxkQ8c4/s1600/I+heart+LC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="363" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S7TsUXSIPXI/AAAAAAAAAbo/bagphxkQ8c4/s400/I+heart+LC.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lately I've been having some car nostalogia. One of my first memories of cars have been VW, my parents bought a 1985 VW Jetta brand new, it was a problematic car but I remember how much I loved this car. I've been a vw fan ever since. I've owned a 1997 Passat GLX, a 1990 VW Corrado G60 (which I love and I'll talk about more later on this post), and currently I'm driving an Audi A4 1.8t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the corrado was my dream car and I was able to obtain a gem at unbelievable price of 1800 dollars. The car that I drove had 57000 miles on it, ok I was basically given the car by a family friend. I loved that car like I loved my first girlfriend..it was whirlwind love affair. Well I think I'm might of have found her again, the Rado not the girlfriend (she found me). Well not exactly the same one but its same color and model...I'm not a grease monkey but I'm thinking I'm willing to learn...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-916859399623089018?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/916859399623089018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=916859399623089018' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/916859399623089018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/916859399623089018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-want-project.html' title='I want a project'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/S7TsUXSIPXI/AAAAAAAAAbo/bagphxkQ8c4/s72-c/I+heart+LC.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8928194813300015112</id><published>2010-03-24T11:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T11:22:09.209-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we sick?</title><content type='html'>We build a strong foundation from the ground up and the other way around..&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to say that most of America has a cold war mentality but the Health Care reform bill is inciting such strong reactions. Its almost reminiscent of when Barack won the election. The visuals of McCain's defeat speech you could see white America cry! I don't get it. In the same manner that I don't get why people are freaking out about this bill. The issue of health care has been like mythical monster that everybody insist exist but no one has ever seen it! I'm 31 yrs old, I convinced that I would never see a president of color in my life time and that a health care reform bill would be signed. I was wrong on both cases but the more and more I talked to people there is gap of understanding of how the bill would work. &lt;a href="http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/retro-HealthBillAffect_100323.html"&gt;Get informed&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not an advocate for the bill but instead a advocate for change. I'm ok with trying something new because the old way did not work. I suppose there will always be someone opposed to change because it will adversely change their life. I would just like to know who is ok living the way they live while others can't afford the basic medical services. If we live in the most modern country with the best technology and some of the brightest minds; then why do we act like we shouldn't know better? To move past our transgressions we have to let go our past mindsets. There was a time when it was ok to have bathrooms for whites and blacks, when women weren't allowed to vote, and when kings ruled the lands. Isn't it time to take steps towards a modern America and leave the historic ways in the past?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8928194813300015112?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8928194813300015112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8928194813300015112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8928194813300015112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8928194813300015112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/03/are-we-sick.html' title='Are we sick?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4582997113089283974</id><published>2010-01-01T10:55:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T14:02:42.721-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Last Entry'/><title type='text'>Its been quite a run.</title><content type='html'>No man is an island entire of itself;&lt;br /&gt;every man is a piece of the continent,&lt;br /&gt;a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea,&lt;br /&gt;Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends&lt;br /&gt;or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.&lt;br /&gt;And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.&lt;br /&gt;~John Donne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its time to turn the lights off on I just Couldn't Help but notice.&lt;br /&gt;Its been an amusing,painful, but always truthful journey. This blog has been a source of emotional release, an open book of sorts, sometimes unintentional, sometimes deliberate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is changing all around me, things never stay constant, time won't allow it, restlessness won't hear of it. So I have to keep on moving on. This blog didn't win an award,it didn't have lots of traffic or break news to any significant event in others people lives. If anything this blog was just.. a blog. The entries almost were filled with grammatical errors,incomplete thoughts, and sometimes downright nonsense..but if you realized that I wrote it to myself then maybe it would make sense to you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is the&amp;nbsp;part where I open my eyes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4582997113089283974?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4582997113089283974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4582997113089283974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4582997113089283974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4582997113089283974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-been-quite-run.html' title='Its been quite a run.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4090277734407539175</id><published>2009-12-24T23:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T23:26:49.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It would be nice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4211814743/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2745/4211814743_e1d220c598_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4211814743/"&gt;photo.jpg&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/fotosdecisco/"&gt;campbellssoup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes I feel I try really hard to understand people and it would be great if they would try as hard as me. Not assume, not try to guess and certainly not draw from past experience. It is possible to be dumbfonded sometimes, to obsolutesly have no clue where a person is coming from as long as you allow yourself to learn and not just be mad because you don't understand why I might be a reclusive man from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its kinda sucks but I really miss my family right now and knowing that I'm just chilling at my place right now just makes me annoyed that I just didn't go regardless. Life lessons..ugh..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4090277734407539175?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4090277734407539175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4090277734407539175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4090277734407539175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4090277734407539175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-would-be-nice.html' title='It would be nice'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2745/4211814743_e1d220c598_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1031277571612484897</id><published>2009-12-23T10:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T10:53:00.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Navidad</title><content type='html'>SO I posted a new bit, for some reason I keep on forgetting that I'm latino. I think its because growing up people never knew what I was. I thought It was obvious but I guess the last name threw people off. I kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways you should check Anjelah Johnson, she's hott and funny. Not that it matters that she's hott(the extra 't' is because I want to emphasis she's really pretty) but I guess that's why I found out she was funny. Go figure!? * ok she's not that hot but she's funny..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually I say something corny like love those around you and yourself or its more important to give than get. Well screw that, wisdom to live by. If you're with someone that gives you a gift that would otherwise be intended for an elderly woman or man. Please just RUN! No good will come from it. See its all in the gift, people that care about you don't give you shitty gifts. See I was reading the signs, Betty bop wallet,VHS tape that didn't work, break maker..these are things that should have triggered some concern, instead I just kept on thinking they were gag gifts. Don't be the gag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so that was my psa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Navidad..&lt;br /&gt;and a Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1031277571612484897?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1031277571612484897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1031277571612484897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1031277571612484897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1031277571612484897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/12/navidad.html' title='Navidad'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6525588578606192509</id><published>2009-12-15T14:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T14:36:16.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4188492668/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2527/4188492668_ecfa34f253_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4188492668/"&gt;photo.jpg&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/fotosdecisco/"&gt;campbellssoup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apparently Leeloo like the christmas tree lights because she gets all hyper at night when I turn them on. Here I was able capture being naughty. She cracks me up! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah shit, I became a cat lover, how annoying is that!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6525588578606192509?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6525588578606192509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6525588578606192509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6525588578606192509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6525588578606192509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/12/late-night.html' title='Late Night'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2527/4188492668_ecfa34f253_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-9208235601329871119</id><published>2009-12-11T13:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T13:36:30.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hanukkah</title><content type='html'>I'm not Jewish but it eerie how much my up bringing was based on the Jewish laws.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't allowed to eat pork, every Friday at sundown I had to turn off the tv and celebrate the sabbath. We went to church on Saturday's and we didn't go out to eat or pay for on sabbath. I remember waiting till Saturday night and then we go do stuff. I loved and hated the winter's. Sundown was at 5p but then it was over by 5p the next day. Oh, we gave 10% of your money back to church.. Now I know I didn't go synagogue or go to Hebrew school but I did go to a christian school where this lifestyle was reinforced so If we're being real I'm a pseudo Jew. To top it off I kept on being told about how I was going to persecuted for my beliefs,that's right just like the Jewish followers were! Kinda weird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up I never knew why so many people fought about religion, race, money...we start with nothing and when we die we go the same way we came. Race, that's a mystery to me, who really cares what color you are if you're mind,heart, and soul are kind. Which leads me to religion, I think we're reading the same book, believing in the same thing we just have different versions and names for the characters. I believe in God, you might believe in Allah..They might as well be the same person since they teach same thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-9208235601329871119?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/9208235601329871119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=9208235601329871119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/9208235601329871119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/9208235601329871119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/12/hanukkah.html' title='Hanukkah'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7044059135671352225</id><published>2009-11-30T15:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T16:22:27.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Full and Heavy..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SxQ3hSCTvUI/AAAAAAAAAa0/YTLImOjooMo/s1600/leeloo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410010097295539522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SxQ3hSCTvUI/AAAAAAAAAa0/YTLImOjooMo/s320/leeloo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had an internal victory. I sometimes have a uncontrollable urge to buy stuff, perhaps its because I grew up poor and never had shit. Come to think of it I know a lot of friends that had similar childhoods and they say the same thing. I know its not a scientific fact that if you're poor you're going to have a spending problem but it does make sense. Unfortunately this type of behavior will also cause you to be poor, hence a evil cycle begins again! Anyways that topic is for another time. A couple months ago I made a horrible mistake of buying a TV from a friend, it was cheap but this monstrosity is abnormally large and heavy(which is why its a monstrosity!!). At this moment it is the thorn to my side, It asthetically just ruins my living room. Instead of having a wonderful flat panel plasma hanging on the wall I have this beast eating up precious space. It works just fine and the picture isn't bad for a $100 tv. So now that you have a backstory I'll go ahead with the story. Black friday came and went, I didn't buy a tv not once but 3 times I talked myself out of buying what visual urges had me yearning for. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why would I do that, you ask. Well I guess I'm acting like a grown ass man ( my favorite cliche) and acted responsible. Sure I could of bought it and it would of been fine but then I think about how silly it would be have this tv in my living room and then tell one of my best friends I can't come to their wedding because I'm watching my money on the wall instead of having a kick ass time in Scotland. So the tv will have to wait until at least after I finalize my travel arrangements. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, yes, how responsible of me..well I rationalized another buy, a nice kenneth cole suit but at least I can wear it to wedding! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7044059135671352225?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7044059135671352225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7044059135671352225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7044059135671352225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7044059135671352225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/11/full-and-heavy.html' title='Full and Heavy..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SxQ3hSCTvUI/AAAAAAAAAa0/YTLImOjooMo/s72-c/leeloo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8959093879423594343</id><published>2009-11-25T12:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T12:53:44.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacant Amusement park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4134145428/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2604/4134145428_13b75c2c4b_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4134145428/"&gt;photo.jpg&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/fotosdecisco/"&gt;campbellssoup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8959093879423594343?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8959093879423594343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8959093879423594343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8959093879423594343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8959093879423594343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/11/vacant-amusement-park.html' title='Vacant Amusement park'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2604/4134145428_13b75c2c4b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1682967807680612533</id><published>2009-11-25T12:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T12:49:35.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The great wall of Tucker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4134135268/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2695/4134135268_d75420a6c8_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/4134135268/"&gt;photo.jpg&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/fotosdecisco/"&gt;campbellssoup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I remember growing up and my mama would say to me to watch that tone lester francisco (whenever you hear your middle name its not a good thing) now at the ripe age of 30 I understand what she means. There's a right way and a wrong way to talk to someone, Its presented itself a couple time in the past weeks where I was being spoken to and I didn't appreciate the manner in which I was being spoken to, at that point I don't care what you're saying to me and what you're saying because I've already made my mind that you crossed that proverbial line where you're out of line. I mean I don't have a problem being wrong but don't talk to me like I'm a kid because that drives me up the wall and chances are I might go through the wall, I kid.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Anyways I'm preparing my stomach for the massacre that will happen tomorrow. I'm a bit worried because we hit up some Taco's last night and it was all you can eat, however I didn't even make it to a second plate? I talk a big game but I really can't put anything away. The skinny guys are really the buffet manager worst nightmare, they some how can eat like hogs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, hopefully this thanksgiving will be more giving than last year's.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1682967807680612533?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1682967807680612533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1682967807680612533' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1682967807680612533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1682967807680612533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/11/great-wall-of-tucker.html' title='The great wall of Tucker'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2695/4134135268_d75420a6c8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4699387197636859389</id><published>2009-11-03T11:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T11:54:57.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>photo.jpg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/3984129465/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2613/3984129465_e3d3462b53_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotosdecisco/3984129465/"&gt;photo.jpg&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/fotosdecisco/"&gt;campbellssoup&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well I had this nice entry about some relevant things but as usual when I expect technology to work it fails me every time. So now you have this picture of me touch Big Boy in a very odd manner. Some of you might even wonder why I would be at a Big Boy to begin with, well they have good hearty, warm meals at a price that won't break the bank (I kinda made that up). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I want to let everyone know that I did not save a lot on my car insurance, in fact I'm paying way too much, thank you very much Geico! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though I want to talk to you about an ongoing problem, the Economy. I'm sure we all sit down and watch the news or read the paper (online) but do we really understand it. I encourage you to get informed about how your money works for you. There is great program on NPR called Planet Money. Check it out. Here is there blog. http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/ but please don't tell em I sent you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4699387197636859389?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4699387197636859389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4699387197636859389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4699387197636859389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4699387197636859389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/11/photojpg.html' title='photo.jpg'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2613/3984129465_e3d3462b53_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5310371875127355826</id><published>2009-11-02T13:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T14:33:26.028-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So there's 59 days left.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Su8zZEenQAI/AAAAAAAAAas/lM4c8Kwti3s/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399590984032403458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Su8zZEenQAI/AAAAAAAAAas/lM4c8Kwti3s/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean not that anyone cares but I'm one of those people that goes to work and checks off the days like a crazy inmate serving time, I don't know what happens at the end, maybe unemployment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember when I quit a job and I was like acting like I was going on summer break, I was literally so happy to be unemployed! Now I'd probably cry, I'd be pulling out whatever hair I had left and like saying eerie things in corner like " I did my best, I did my best!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm soo weird, I always think I'm going to win the lotto..but its not good because I'll have these like inner turmoil about who I'm going to give money to and then I realize that I have a huge family and that perhaps 60 millions dollars won't be enough to take care of them. I get soo stressed about it that by the time the lotto drawings come out I'm praying that I didn't win. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, crazy. Its like the people that don't play the lotto till like its 100 million. I'll ask them why don't play any other time and they look at me like &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"why would I bother on 20 million" ah, american's! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways my co-workers are on edge, its amazing how much we hate our boss! Like one of my co-workers literally said that he had to fight going all black on her and he's black. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I need to start working on my resume, I have that 2yr itch, where I'm feeling crazy and I need to go on summer break. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5310371875127355826?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5310371875127355826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5310371875127355826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5310371875127355826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5310371875127355826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-theres-59-days-left.html' title='So there&apos;s 59 days left.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Su8zZEenQAI/AAAAAAAAAas/lM4c8Kwti3s/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1701874679055899863</id><published>2009-10-22T14:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T15:08:33.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Smooth till the last drop..</title><content type='html'>more weddings&lt;br /&gt;more kids&lt;br /&gt;more of alot of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess there isn't room for les in that....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1701874679055899863?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1701874679055899863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1701874679055899863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1701874679055899863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1701874679055899863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/10/smooth-till-last-drop.html' title='Smooth till the last drop..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2361447403776082894</id><published>2009-10-16T15:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T15:33:11.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Fly with me..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/StjKa-A1ngI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/M-5yTfqFizY/s1600-h/merch_tshirt2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393283118448090626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/StjKa-A1ngI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/M-5yTfqFizY/s320/merch_tshirt2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I apparently was either too sick or too busy to catch the balloon boy fiasco! I caught wind of it last night when Tucker is asking me what I think about it. I thought it was a YouTube thing but then it was CNN and all over the place. Apparently it the kids would later say they did it for the show! Ha ha. I don't know about you but I really don't think I would want to be on TV because of tragedy or for that matter something awesome. I remember when they had that bounty for Osama, I think it was 25 million tax free. I kept on thinking there is no way anyone would survive that, it would be like Patriot Games but worse. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which make me think I wonder if Dog the bounty hunter could go over there and find him? I can see it now, it would be a AE special. They'd have Dog and his redneck family asking everyone about where Osama is, camping out at his alleged cave screaming things like "You know we know that you're hear, you better make it easy for yourself brah". All the while sticking out like snow in the desert( think about it before you dismiss it).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then in some miraculous turn in events, around the 45min mark, they'd catch a break and find Osama coming back from one of his terrorist training camps. You know he'd be walking into his cave all cool, maybe drinking a sharbat and listening to his Ipod. Then DOG and his 20 illegitimate children in all their mullet glory would surround him with there spray guns. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's as far as I've gotten with this story, the ending could get messy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways I've been incredible weak most of the week since I'm fighting some sort of unknown sickness but I've finally broke through it. Its Friday and I'm looking to chill this weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if anyone reads this but if you do, have a great weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2361447403776082894?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2361447403776082894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2361447403776082894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2361447403776082894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2361447403776082894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/10/come-fly-with-me.html' title='Come Fly with me..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/StjKa-A1ngI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/M-5yTfqFizY/s72-c/merch_tshirt2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7697319732626888859</id><published>2009-09-30T09:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T10:02:19.608-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I didn't get the memo..</title><content type='html'>Holy crap, its going to be October tomorrow. This morning fall made an appearance, granted in south that just means cooler morning since the leave don't change colors here. Lots has been going on around me but not really to me. I have yet another wedding I'm in but this one should be hella fun ( I think the key is to be involved in the wedding party but not too involved cuz then you get to enjoy it-you should write that down.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies seem to be popping out left and right. Quite frankly Facebook has been converted into babybook but then again I think that just represents how most of my friends are getting down. Well roughly at least nine month ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can't seem to get the Miley Cyrus song outta of my head. Its one of those stupid songs that makes you move. If you're driving your nodding your head or my case I'm shaking my ass. Its disturbing. I don't know if its a downgrade on my taste or my taste has changed. I use to hate talk radio and now If I'm not listening to a podcast at work I'm feeling restless! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmm, I'm learning that my body and my mine are no longer equals. My mine is capable of doing incredible things however...my body can't execute these feats anymore (Stretching is essential for longevity, write that down.) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is the point of this entry, I guess I'm just talking here. Life (yes there is a life lesson in here) is a carousel, I think I got lost in the turbulence that sometimes comes with living and have now noticed that I'm back to where I wanted to be before I lost my way. Sure I've got some scars and I've some wounds that are mending but I'm on the right track again. ( I should write that down!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7697319732626888859?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7697319732626888859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7697319732626888859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7697319732626888859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7697319732626888859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-guess-i-didnt-get-memo.html' title='I guess I didn&apos;t get the memo..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-665267952489144450</id><published>2009-09-22T13:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T14:21:01.469-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd pairing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SrkVYUbnyyI/AAAAAAAAAZs/IkvMS5L0tA8/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384358337043745570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SrkVYUbnyyI/AAAAAAAAAZs/IkvMS5L0tA8/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of you may or may not know that I'm a huge David Gray fan. I've never been able to attend any of this shows, to my displeasure, well I found out that he'll be in St.Pete next month. However as I'm reading who he's touring with I'm completely confused how this ticket was ever marketed? He's touring with ICP(Insane Clown Posse). To say that they're on the opposite spectrum's would be an understatement. I hate ICP, growing up I remember listening to their music and just scratching my head, that shit isn't music. So I guess David Gray will have to wait yet again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways not much as been happening in my life lately, though I wish otherwise. It would be nice to be surprised...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-665267952489144450?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/665267952489144450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=665267952489144450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/665267952489144450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/665267952489144450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/09/odd-pairing.html' title='Odd pairing.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SrkVYUbnyyI/AAAAAAAAAZs/IkvMS5L0tA8/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3561682292859261582</id><published>2009-09-10T14:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T14:14:02.475-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi familia</title><content type='html'>So my mom just came down to visit over the labor day weekend, man its totally overwhelming when my family gets together. I hardly got to spend anytime with my mom because of her sister's also being in town. Now I don't mind sharing my mom with people but not when I don't get to see her too often and since my mom doesn't know how to say no I routinely find myself sharing. Anyways I guess as I get older I don't feel so thrilled having to jockey for some time with her or my sis. Intermediate family takes precedent over extended family, at least it does to me.  Anyways now my dad is coming today after just calling me over the weekend to let me know he's in Florida. I haven't yet had a full week since my mom left and now I have my dad here. I see him even less than my mom but at least I have a relationship with my mom where as my dad, well thats a bit more strange. I didn't meet him till I was 11 yrs and he lives thousands of miles away, so its more stressful to see him since I don't really know him. I know its not his fault but I've gotten use to him not ever being in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be an interesting weekend, hopefully it won't be a waste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3561682292859261582?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3561682292859261582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3561682292859261582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3561682292859261582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3561682292859261582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/09/mi-familia.html' title='Mi familia'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2171862903873078864</id><published>2009-08-12T10:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T16:02:26.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know why..</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I kinda wonder if like we have it all wrong; for instance the Geico commercial with the cavemen. Maybe its not so easy a caveman can do it! I don't usually like to be the person to be like I told you so but GM, you messed up! EV1 (I might be mistaken by the model) was an electric car well received and even more appreciated by those who thought that they had given up on fossil fuel based cars. Unfortunately these cars weren't available for purchase but leased. There is a documentary called "Who killed the electric car?" that now always seems prophetic and slightly apocalyptic view of what went right and ultimately wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had many regrets in my life, some have directly altered the life I could be living at this very minute but for the most part the outcome of those decisions have impacted a singular life, mine. I don't know how it would feel like to be responsible for millions of people's livelyhood and future. That's a lot to contend with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose there is hope because of the new developments/news of the Chevy Volt which could prove to be a light at the end of otherwise ominous hole, however comebacks aren't fast so I'll hold out on buy stock just for a little bit longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It interesting how fate works, the people and things we expect to be around can fade away like sand in our hand. We'll try hard to hold on but ultimately it will just slip right through our fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when I'm brainstorming and I don't click on save as draft, =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my good friends Mike and Jess (or should be Jess and Mike) either way they're engaged. I'm very thrilled and excited for them( in the way girls get when they see twilight previews) What a difference a year makes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2171862903873078864?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2171862903873078864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2171862903873078864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2171862903873078864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2171862903873078864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-know-why.html' title='I don&apos;t know why..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4797628748181903901</id><published>2009-08-07T10:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T11:11:32.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Indulgence.</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you can qualify this as an indulgence since it doesn't cost a thing other than time. What is this indulgence you ask, well podcast's..There is a world wide variety of just podcast out there that touch on every single subject you could think of. I use to scorn at the thought of listening to talk radio. I know why I did that, it was due to the fact that I didn't have a choice on the subject. I'm telling on demand radio is the greatest thing on the radio. Yeah, I know this is the first sign of aging but you know what I don't care. The fact that I'm called sir everytime I go somewhere, the fact that I don't turn the channel when the bosley commercial comes on and that I think Jason Statham is very brave. Yes, I am 30, but if the double breasted suit can make a comeback then there's still hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should of been a comedian not because of jokes but the stories that I could of told and the people I might of met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other note, being a room mate is hard work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4797628748181903901?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4797628748181903901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4797628748181903901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4797628748181903901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4797628748181903901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-indulgence.html' title='My Indulgence.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4269822650782229590</id><published>2009-07-23T16:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:17:49.004-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a quick question?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SmjEe0BHo7I/AAAAAAAAAZk/nTDUNHQKmuE/s1600-h/3749406321_c039bd309d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361751390023033778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SmjEe0BHo7I/AAAAAAAAAZk/nTDUNHQKmuE/s320/3749406321_c039bd309d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of late I’ve been fascinated with talk radio and more importantly interviewing people. So with that in mind who will let me interview them? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If so, use the link on my blog to email me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4269822650782229590?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4269822650782229590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4269822650782229590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4269822650782229590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4269822650782229590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-quick-question.html' title='Just a quick question?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SmjEe0BHo7I/AAAAAAAAAZk/nTDUNHQKmuE/s72-c/3749406321_c039bd309d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4095024086918147186</id><published>2009-07-14T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T12:08:19.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Momentos</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was prepared to see this majestic sight. A 100 ft spaceship exploded off the ground and shoot into outer space..but, as likely as that happening the Coast was met by a lighting storm off the north east side. I had gone to the beach on Saturday, I think we were probably like 55 minutes north of it but this time, we were right across the launch pad. Man, That would of been sweet! Anyways the weather has been the only predictable thing in my life right now, I can always count on it to rain. I think it hasn't helped that I'm transitioning right now and alot of things are kinda uncharted waters for me. However the dip hasn't been as cold as I first suspected I just need to get use to water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I would of invented twitter, I mean not because its soo amazing but because its soo simple, I'm like thinking to myself, duh! anyways I'm off to lunch, the best part about living so close to work is that I can go home for lunch =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4095024086918147186?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4095024086918147186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4095024086918147186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4095024086918147186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4095024086918147186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/07/momentos.html' title='Momentos'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7100279933833414174</id><published>2009-07-07T15:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:31:18.317-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Freshman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jay Brannan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Campbell Soup'/><title type='text'>Making the Grade..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SlOsx2lL46I/AAAAAAAAAZc/1PYnyKcVrPk/s1600-h/76476016_bacf77684c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355814354338702242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SlOsx2lL46I/AAAAAAAAAZc/1PYnyKcVrPk/s320/76476016_bacf77684c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I'm drifting off into lala land, I start to remember how I would block off four years to really grade my success in something. Kinda like being a silly freshman to a more put together senior. Long after I left school I was still doing this, my career, my love life, my personal growth. I don't know if this was the best way of going about things but I felt that my first year I was really just trying to make sense of what was going on, by the second and third year I was able to understand and predict, leaving the fourth year for me to make a concise decision.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back now It seems really foolish to think like this. I stayed with some things longer than I should of because I hoped it would get better. It would but it would creep back to where it was before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, every new step in life is like being a freshman all over again. Unsure, nervous, wanting to make an impression, ultimately hoping for the best and fearing the worst. Well not exactly but I think you know what I mean. I've transitioned in a way that I don't think I would of ever imagined. Looking at it in a larger spectrum its conventional but also very outside my norm. To be honest I miss the build up, the uncertainty of the outcome, sure I'm aware of the possibilities but I think I can accept them now as opposed to earlier where I could only see one way,one outcome, the one I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I introduced Jay Brannan probably 2yrs ago on here. He's done some familiar covers to some mid 90's songs that many of you might recognize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ihopeyourearsbleed.com/2009/07/05/jay-brannan-releases-in-living-cover/"&gt;Jay Brannan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7100279933833414174?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7100279933833414174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7100279933833414174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7100279933833414174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7100279933833414174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/07/making-grade.html' title='Making the Grade..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SlOsx2lL46I/AAAAAAAAAZc/1PYnyKcVrPk/s72-c/76476016_bacf77684c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5474986409812006172</id><published>2009-06-29T11:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T12:03:48.478-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva La Evolucion</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;We forfeit three-fourths of ourselves in order to be like other people.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arthur Schopenhauer (1788 - 1860&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viva la "Revolucion".&lt;br /&gt;There was a passive military coup in my birth country,Honduras. This isn't so shocking since its a third world country and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stricken&lt;/span&gt; with poverty, usually those two ingredients make for a good slow roast of a coup and violence. However my fellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hondurans&lt;/span&gt; are peaceful people, so no shots were fired except of course those shot to wake up the president. He was removed from the country in his pj's to Costa Rica. Wow, you're fired and we're taking your clothes. Don't think that would ever happen here, then again here isn't there. My main concern was that of my family,who were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vacationing&lt;/span&gt; down there. My family had just successfully planned a massive reunion, which I had missed because I suck, thankfully my Mom &amp;amp; Paul, Alex and Noah left prior to the coup but a majority of my family is still down there including my Father and my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got an email from my brother and dad saying that they're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;. The seem to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with the proceedings? They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;instituted&lt;/span&gt; a mandatory curfew of 9p. I guess thats not all too bad, keeps people off the streets and better yet trouble at bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow June is ending with a bang, 4 day here I come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5474986409812006172?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5474986409812006172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5474986409812006172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5474986409812006172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5474986409812006172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/06/viva-la-evolucion.html' title='Viva La Evolucion'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3158362457054379685</id><published>2009-06-22T09:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:23:32.744-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Got lost in the words..</title><content type='html'>I heard a great artist last night, will his music change my life or even make it to the radio, probably not unless its a college radio station and I'm too old for music to change my life. However,his music took me to a place of utter peace. Its odd I don't know exactly how to explain it but I think I mentally blacked out everything that has happened this past year while I was listening to him. Maybe it was the way he sang or the sound of the guitar, or maybe it was the lack of eating-whatever it was I feel at peace for an hour.&lt;br /&gt;Oh,you're probably wondering who I'm talking about? The tallest man on earth which I have to thank Michael for introducing his music. We got to me him after the show and he's not the tallest man on earth, he might be the smallest man on earth, but his music is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;undoubtedly&lt;/span&gt; larger than his silhouette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing that happened lastnight, other than eating a delicious veggie dog on the street was that someone affirmed that he was ok to not be ok with how things happened. That there will always be a reaction of some sort to her.  As much as I want to be able to just be whatever about or dismiss it as if it doesn't mean much, well I would be lying. It did mean alot and I can remember how I felt everytime I hear her name...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3158362457054379685?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3158362457054379685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3158362457054379685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3158362457054379685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3158362457054379685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/06/got-lost-in-words.html' title='Got lost in the words..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2258848274024194131</id><published>2009-06-21T11:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T12:08:31.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Foxes,Boxes, and sleeping in the dining room den.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sj5auW62_pI/AAAAAAAAAZU/YxHsHuPWjtQ/s1600-h/Picture+26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sj5auW62_pI/AAAAAAAAAZU/YxHsHuPWjtQ/s320/Picture+26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349813159835664018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently my belongings are scattered like shells on the ocean floor. I don't know where anything is, just when I thought I had gotten rid of all the junk I had, I find more junk. Its a perpetual combustion of trash that accumulates everywhere I go. With that said I have a couple of days till I really start putting things in the car and making my eay up to Lake Mary. &lt;div&gt;I know that I came down there in a car full of stuff and now I need a uhaul to move, its just kinda funny because its not like I really need all this stuff, I could do without the 23 pairs of shoes, the closet full of clothes, the damn gadgets, and all the other useless space eating things. I think for the most part it has to do with the fact that I don't like being alone so I go shopping to be around people. I've been living like a single man for the past 4 1/2 years...It will be nice to have someone to come home to, to share the happening of my day, hell to just have dinner with at home. Its about time I have a normal relationship that doesn't consist of IM,texts,phone calls, or video chat. I think Its about time for my time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2258848274024194131?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2258848274024194131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2258848274024194131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2258848274024194131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2258848274024194131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/06/foxesboxes-and-sleeping-in-dining-room.html' title='Foxes,Boxes, and sleeping in the dining room den.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sj5auW62_pI/AAAAAAAAAZU/YxHsHuPWjtQ/s72-c/Picture+26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-9144903018876560761</id><published>2009-06-08T22:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T00:23:02.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving,.</title><content type='html'>Moving allows you to clean up something things that you might have not known you still had. As I'm cleaning out my closets and drawers I finding things from my past that I don't need anymore. Its interesting reading the cards, letters, or postcards, seeing some pictures that seem almost a distant life. I thought about it for a while, whether I should keep some of the stuff. I decided not to, I know myself and I don't need those thoughts or reminders. Somethings should be forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a new chapter in my life, I'm anxious and eagerly looking forward to it with great enthusiasm. To say that its uncharted waters would be a understatement but as I heard today&lt;br /&gt;"you got take risks to get the biscuit!" I don't know if that actually refers to anything but I'm going to incorporate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm soo exhausted right now that I can hardly keep my eyes open so I'll take that as a sign to go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adieu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-9144903018876560761?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/9144903018876560761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=9144903018876560761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/9144903018876560761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/9144903018876560761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/06/moving.html' title='Moving,.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8366343359309204407</id><published>2009-05-26T11:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T11:09:41.294-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is what happens when I go home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShwGCaQG0wI/AAAAAAAAAYw/i0BYFU_tqoI/s1600-h/De_Game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340149896630948610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShwGCaQG0wI/AAAAAAAAAYw/i0BYFU_tqoI/s320/De_Game.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As many of you know I can be very emotional when I play video games,sports, or whenever. Well Alex is the same way..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it was kinda funny when my mom had this gem of advice when me and alex were playing Bond on the Gamecube. As you can see we're engrossed in killing each other and my mom is reminding us that perhaps its the game that is causing such a hostile reaction. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8366343359309204407?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8366343359309204407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8366343359309204407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8366343359309204407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8366343359309204407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-is-what-happens-when-i-go-home.html' title='This is what happens when I go home'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShwGCaQG0wI/AAAAAAAAAYw/i0BYFU_tqoI/s72-c/De_Game.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3090733666940774104</id><published>2009-05-19T11:33:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T12:17:38.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in my head..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShLafuQJ-SI/AAAAAAAAAYo/CtF3Ix7EYMY/s1600-h/0424092140_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337568746914052386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShLafuQJ-SI/AAAAAAAAAYo/CtF3Ix7EYMY/s320/0424092140_0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You left in my car where you were holding my hand,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're were traveling with me with broken promises and backup plans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been innocently stumbling and you've been taking full advantage, how could you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please don't say its true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I've lost a friend and in my head all things are silent again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't remember our last kiss and it was done out of pity!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need more than giving moments and reminincing stories and words only spoken out of guilt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You didn't win my heart that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It feels..it feels like none of this is real&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pretend that my heart and head are well&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;then the blood starts pumping through my veins and freezes like a river in Toronto, well I'd be pleased If I could hear you say that I made you feel warm, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that I can make you feel warm again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3090733666940774104?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3090733666940774104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3090733666940774104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3090733666940774104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3090733666940774104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-my-head.html' title='in my head..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ShLafuQJ-SI/AAAAAAAAAYo/CtF3Ix7EYMY/s72-c/0424092140_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-800809388826644161</id><published>2009-05-11T12:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T12:32:51.542-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I became some sort of a hermit this past weekend. I might of left my house a couple of times to go outside and feel the warm sun on my amber skin. I sometimes think about how many times I actually talk to people during the day, like a conversation that doesn't contain things that aren't work,movie,music, or weather related. Its kinda a low number if I must be honest. Anyways that was just random, I watched tons of movies over the weekend thanks to the new Redbox down the road. I came across this singer, Teddy Thompson. I know that for all those of you who have seen Brokeback Mountain he's a familiar voice but since I haven't seen it this was like a new little musical present. My favorite song is "Separate Ways".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news I'm giving up Beer for good. This weekend reminded me why I can't drink it, apparently my body has sensitive balance in which Beer doesn't not fit in any matter of way. Its not even like I binged on beer, It was a pint or two and my nights were jacked up with heart burn. I'll see how I long I can do it for. Last of all I spoke with mi Mama this weekend for mother's day. She was chillin with my sis and brother-in-law. I keep on missing out on stuff because I live all the way down here...I think I might of mentioned it over the weekend but my time here is coming to an end( not here like being alive but the Southeast) I think I need to find a way to get back up north. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is like a runaway blog..I found this tag at a Marshall's over the weekend. I just like it because it has Les in it...I think he was trying to spell Please?!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SghS9I0sMNI/AAAAAAAAAXc/3E4ZQ75fBvY/s1600-h/0509091524.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334604968914333906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SghS9I0sMNI/AAAAAAAAAXc/3E4ZQ75fBvY/s320/0509091524.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-800809388826644161?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/800809388826644161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=800809388826644161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/800809388826644161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/800809388826644161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/05/weekends.html' title='Weekends'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SghS9I0sMNI/AAAAAAAAAXc/3E4ZQ75fBvY/s72-c/0509091524.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5543225908540503372</id><published>2009-05-07T10:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T10:46:43.431-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my..</title><content type='html'>I just read what I wrote a couple of days ago...its not good to have that much emotion towards something that shouldn't matter. Well at least it was in the privacy of the internet, right. I've been having a running discussion with the girl I'm seeing right now about my friends. We have a difference of opinions on the matter (I'm right and she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about!) I'm having this kind of inclination that I need to get up and get the hell out of dodge. Maybe go work over seas like my friend Andrew, well the only difference is that I don't think he's ever coming back stateside to live. I've been kinda moping around this week. I talk to my friend about what his GF said about me and I let him that she hasn't been receptive or even cordial with me for me to even approach her to gesture an acknowlegement...anyways we got it straightened out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I didn't even celebrate Cinco de Mayo, geez..&lt;br /&gt;I need a pick me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I'm missing my family reunion.!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5543225908540503372?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5543225908540503372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5543225908540503372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5543225908540503372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5543225908540503372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/05/oh-my.html' title='Oh my..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8068093907298362919</id><published>2009-05-05T10:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T10:54:15.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much inner dating can be bad for your social health.</title><content type='html'>I don't know but it seems like the pool of women that are available to date has dwindle to a mere few that haven't dated a friend of a friend or something like that. This weekend was a good example of that. Someone I dated 3 yrs ago is now dating a friend of mine...it ended in a bad way and she had a reason to not like me or be mad at me but its been 3 yrs and she's dated someone the whole time during that. I was the best man at this wedding, she really shouldn't of been there not because of me but for the mere fact that she's a two faced judgemental bitch. I didn't acknowledge her the whole day because I have nothing to say to her, we would talk online and then she blocked me, every time she has a opportunity she brings up old shit or says bad things about me. So how am I the asshole for not saying a damn thing to a person that bad mouths me? The fact that my buddy asked me if I would be uncomfortable with her coming and I said no because I don't want it to be about me and her should show some fucking maturity. I'm not fake, so there is no sense in going through a charade. I kinda reacted in a very explosive manner but its just a summation of things that I've had to deal with, its just gets to be too much. You don't want me to talk to you but then you do? WTF?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8068093907298362919?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8068093907298362919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8068093907298362919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8068093907298362919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8068093907298362919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/05/too-much-inner-dating-can-be-bad-for.html' title='Too much inner dating can be bad for your social health.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5555724272651085395</id><published>2009-04-14T00:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T00:24:14.344-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SeQNq-DaT1I/AAAAAAAAAXM/k1QztP_Vo3w/s1600-h/111780313_339c68e5e9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SeQNq-DaT1I/AAAAAAAAAXM/k1QztP_Vo3w/s320/111780313_339c68e5e9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324395691321741138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its late..but I can't seem to fall asleep. I think its hard falling asleep in a house where I'm the only thing with a restless mind.&lt;br /&gt;Ah there is going to be a little get together in the next 3 weeks, there are going to be faces I haven't seen in a long time and there will be stories retold and perhaps relived. Its a interesting situation where the past meets the present but how much as I would love to have them both co exist the reality of it is, you slowly let go of those memories and replace them with more current ones. The names and faces remain but the part in your stories change. Anyways it will be nice to be with a group of people that have been quite instrumental in the past 10 yrs of my life. Though our paths have veered in different directions its nice to know that for 4 yrs we shared common interests, common friendships, and common bottom lines.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SeQPv30iNJI/AAAAAAAAAXU/7WGzbhd_Ojk/s1600-h/638656593_f7a261d475.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SeQPv30iNJI/AAAAAAAAAXU/7WGzbhd_Ojk/s320/638656593_f7a261d475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324397974571332754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be a blast and I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5555724272651085395?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5555724272651085395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5555724272651085395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5555724272651085395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5555724272651085395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-late.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SeQNq-DaT1I/AAAAAAAAAXM/k1QztP_Vo3w/s72-c/111780313_339c68e5e9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6139593057702310311</id><published>2009-04-09T14:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T15:00:25.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sd5EG2JE_oI/AAAAAAAAAXE/t0IdNC-jMRE/s1600-h/1101081912-795810.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322766694001999490" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sd5EG2JE_oI/AAAAAAAAAXE/t0IdNC-jMRE/s320/1101081912-795810.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man I don't know what it is about techno or dance music that just makes me happy! Its hard to be in a bad mood&lt;br /&gt;when you're shaking your ass. Seriously when was the last time you were made dancing? I mean its possible but &lt;br /&gt;chances are you wouldn't be dancing in the first place! I'm currently listening to "The Gossip- Listen UP"&lt;br /&gt;Its kinda like a funky lounge beat mixed with raspy vocals. The point is that get off your couch, your desk, your plush leather&lt;br /&gt;like chair. Put on your headphones and shake your ass for at least 5 minutes...if anything I'm sure it will bring a smile to your&lt;br /&gt;face and those who walk in on you doing your little dance where you bite your bottom lip and awkwardly sway your hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing, I subscribe to Details(an increasingly more gay mag as years go by) and lately they've been having this stupid bit where this lady tells you how you should wear clothes, how goatee's are not cool, Fedora's might uber uncool, that you should try wearing white jeans! Ladies and gentlemen&lt;br /&gt;please,please stop the cross gender advice! I wouldn't know a thing about how you should wear your turquoise top with a scarf and skinny jeans accompanied with flats without looking like you meant to look classic but with a modern twist (what does that even mean?). I just made that up, I don't know if it looks good on you or whether people that I associate myself are the kinds of people that I should be talking to. Women know what they like and for the most part men know how &lt;br /&gt;they look when they feel most comfortable. So if I want to wear a Fedora with a 3 day old beard and some old ass jeans,I'm going to wear them..and screw you for shaking your head at me because I'm that crazy cool to pull it off and not give &lt;br /&gt;a damn that I might just look like a damn fool(That sentence was suppose to end a couple of words ago). Honestly at the end of the day who gives a rat's ass? IF you said no one give me a call, I'd like to hang out! (Or Facebook me, I check that as much as my phone)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6139593057702310311?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6139593057702310311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6139593057702310311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6139593057702310311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6139593057702310311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-message-was-sent-using-picture-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Sd5EG2JE_oI/AAAAAAAAAXE/t0IdNC-jMRE/s72-c/1101081912-795810.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2859882150699156595</id><published>2009-03-25T11:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T11:56:05.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>But Mostly I Feel Happy..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ScpT4ivNU9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/x0Lr-kDBs48/s1600-h/0226091856.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317154540926882770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ScpT4ivNU9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/x0Lr-kDBs48/s320/0226091856.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cuando tu me dices a media voz que me amas&lt;br /&gt;Me siento tan sublime como el tibio sol de la mañana&lt;br /&gt;Y esto es lo que tu me haces sentir&lt;br /&gt;Desde el dia en que te conocií&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando tu me dices a media voz que te ame&lt;br /&gt;Me siento invencible como el huracan mas temible&lt;br /&gt;Y esto es lo que tu me haces sentir&lt;br /&gt;Desde el dia en que te conocií&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No siento penas ni dolores de cabeza&lt;br /&gt;Ni confusion de ninguna naturaleza&lt;br /&gt;Ni tampoco siento mas tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Solo siento amor solo siento amor&lt;br /&gt;Solo siento amor solo siento amor&lt;br /&gt;Que por supuesto es todo para ti&lt;br /&gt;Desde el dia en que te conocií&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando tu me dices a media voz que no me vaya&lt;br /&gt;Me siento indestructible como un cayon de metralla&lt;br /&gt;Y esto es lo que te me haces sentir&lt;br /&gt;Desde el día en que te conocií&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No siento penas ni dolores de cabeza&lt;br /&gt;Ni confusion de ninguna naturaleza&lt;br /&gt;Ni tampoco siento mas tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Solo siento amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No siento penas ni dolores de cabeza&lt;br /&gt;Ni confusion de ninguna naturaleza&lt;br /&gt;Ni tampoco siento mas tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Solo siento amor solo siento amor&lt;br /&gt;Que por supuesto es todo para ti&lt;br /&gt;Desde el dia en que te conocií&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Juanes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2859882150699156595?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2859882150699156595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2859882150699156595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2859882150699156595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2859882150699156595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/03/but-mostly-i-feel-happy.html' title='But Mostly I Feel Happy..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/ScpT4ivNU9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/x0Lr-kDBs48/s72-c/0226091856.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4363937106402949953</id><published>2009-03-24T10:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:05:01.699-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I feel sad..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Scjv4U6pAmI/AAAAAAAAAW0/nc0Z5OqPhKc/s1600-h/Post.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316763111077249634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 181px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Scjv4U6pAmI/AAAAAAAAAW0/nc0Z5OqPhKc/s320/Post.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then I get little emails like this in my inbox and I can't help but smile, like this &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/loveiseverything/3283034849/"&gt;cheesy&lt;/a&gt; smile! Ha ha I think I like the description more than the t-shirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would buy it but I've already wasted enough money on Canadian inspired goods. I would have to say based on my investing experience "it" yields very low returns. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, Its becoming abundantly clear that facebook is just going farther than I think It would. I got a add request from a friend's mom. I just don' t think I can start adding parents, its just kind of weird. I mean what's next, they'll follow my tweets on twitter? Which leads me to my next little rant. Wtf? I swear Michael was just telling me about this last year and I was like what the hell is that? I joined and now its like on the radio, on tv, my favorite magazine's. Everybody is tweeting, who the hell is doing all this stuff? There has to be someone out there not doing a damn thing but chances are that person will twitter saying he isn't doing anything! Imagine if even Osama had twitter..." Ah just chillin in a cave again, sipping some desert soup and having some cactus juice, wondering if Family guy will do another bit on me?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry, It just seems like that's all we could talk about for some time and now its like poof, no more Osama talk? Just Obama... interesting how one letter can make suck a big difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lunch time..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4363937106402949953?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4363937106402949953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4363937106402949953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4363937106402949953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4363937106402949953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/03/sometimes-i-feel-sad.html' title='Sometimes I feel sad..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/Scjv4U6pAmI/AAAAAAAAAW0/nc0Z5OqPhKc/s72-c/Post.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6757712143912094848</id><published>2009-03-17T14:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:10:48.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You're delicious!</title><content type='html'>Your smooth texture soothes me.&lt;br /&gt;You taste like berries and goodness all mixed up in a heavenly concoction.&lt;br /&gt;Your cold exterior chills my body when heat is beating down on me.&lt;br /&gt;You're super, with blue, red, and ras...low in fat, high on taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you smoothie, I've fought you long a enough. I surrender my taste buds to you.&lt;br /&gt;I can't shun you from my lips, they just seem to only want to taste you.&lt;br /&gt;I'll sip and sip till there is only slurping&lt;br /&gt;Even then, I'll tilt the cup to get every last drop till there is no more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6757712143912094848?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6757712143912094848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6757712143912094848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6757712143912094848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6757712143912094848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/03/youre-delicious.html' title='You&apos;re delicious!'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8067413000481239939</id><published>2009-03-12T09:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T09:27:04.144-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Ex Lover is Dead..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SbkNHoUcn_I/AAAAAAAAAWs/27MkfLMxtEI/s1600-h/0226092008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312291660193636338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SbkNHoUcn_I/AAAAAAAAAWs/27MkfLMxtEI/s320/0226092008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I really like this song, I stumbled upon it a while back ! I  I literally stumbled on it..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God that was strange to see you again&lt;br /&gt;Introduced by a friend of a friend&lt;br /&gt;Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'&lt;br /&gt;In that instant it started to pour,&lt;br /&gt;Captured a taxi despite all the rain&lt;br /&gt;We drove in silence across point champlain&lt;br /&gt;And all of the time you thought I was sad&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to remember your name…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin&lt;br /&gt;Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in&lt;br /&gt;Now you're outside me&lt;br /&gt;You see all the beauty&lt;br /&gt;Repent all your sin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nothing but time and a face that you lose&lt;br /&gt;I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose&lt;br /&gt;I'll write you a postcard&lt;br /&gt;I'll send you the news&lt;br /&gt;From a house down the road from real love…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live through this, and you won't look back…&lt;br /&gt;Live through this, and you won't look back…&lt;br /&gt;Live through this, and you won't look back…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave&lt;br /&gt;You were what I wanted&lt;br /&gt;I gave what I gave&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sorry I met you&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sorry it's over&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sorry there's nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sorry there's nothing to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Stars&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8067413000481239939?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8067413000481239939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8067413000481239939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8067413000481239939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8067413000481239939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/03/your-ex-lover-is-dead.html' title='Your Ex Lover is Dead..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SbkNHoUcn_I/AAAAAAAAAWs/27MkfLMxtEI/s72-c/0226092008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8888615229001994811</id><published>2009-03-03T11:23:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:43:37.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoping for a miracle.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I talked to mom, she told me that  my friend's dad has 3 months to live. He was my first basketball coach and he hooked me up with my first summer job, I spent countless hours in his back yard playing basketball with his sons which usually ended up us getting into trouble. I grew up with his kids and we remained close til I moved away to Andrews. Needless to say he's close to my family, I heard through an email that he wasn't doing well but talking to my mom last night it kind of just hit me and I had a really cloud of  sadness come over me. I'm not ashamed to say that I shed some tears. I know that we all have our time and when God decides "that's it" well that's it; however he's dying from something he can't fight, a rare form of stomach cancer. He's was one of the fittest and healthiest men I know. He played basketball, ran, hiked, biked, etc..he wasn't the guy that sat on his couch and got fat. To hear that he's wilting away was hard to hear. I think of how its not fair that my friends are losing their father that way, to have to see him physically break down from the cancer eating him away. Just not fair, just not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a 180 for me in the sense that I was just on vacation trip where I was closed off from the world. I had no cares and I really wasn't thinking about anyone but myself, I was being selfish. Anyways I'm praying for my friend's Dad, his name Rex. I'm praying/hoping for a miracle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8888615229001994811?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8888615229001994811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8888615229001994811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8888615229001994811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8888615229001994811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/03/hoping-for-miracle.html' title='Hoping for a miracle.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2975249922827215413</id><published>2009-02-18T10:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T11:30:50.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cash that check..</title><content type='html'>I can't say that I was looking forward to this birthday but I mean its part of life. The elasticity of your skin loosens up, that burst of speed that you had 10 yrs ago fades, you start seeing wrinkles where there once weren't any. I look forward towards the next couple of years since I feel I'll be ushering a new phase of my life, its inevitable. Anyways, thanks for all the birthday wishes to those who have said them and to those who forgot but meant to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye 20's and hello 30.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2975249922827215413?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2975249922827215413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2975249922827215413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2975249922827215413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2975249922827215413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/02/cash-that-check.html' title='Cash that check..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-214910171428291661</id><published>2009-02-13T14:38:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T14:51:47.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you be my valentimes?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SZXNyOQUnLI/AAAAAAAAAV4/exR3QvDmenY/s1600-h/1227071542.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302370399002336434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SZXNyOQUnLI/AAAAAAAAAV4/exR3QvDmenY/s320/1227071542.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see you gurl, sitting all by your lonesome sipping your latte.&lt;br /&gt;What's this, the latest edition of cosmo and elle, come on baby, do tell.&lt;br /&gt;I know I look rough in my tim's, camo pants,and my hat is tilted to the side.&lt;br /&gt;But thugs can love too and baby right now I'm thinking I could love you boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wait, wait, I'm no thug so this wouldn't work,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roses are red and violets are blue&lt;br /&gt;I've had my eye on you&lt;br /&gt;I got flowers and candy&lt;br /&gt;So I'll just go ahead and take you home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm, yeah, probably not a good one either..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;think les, think..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never have a reason to call or to write,&lt;br /&gt;but I can sit and listen to you for hours, you can keep me up all night.&lt;br /&gt;You'll sometimes correct what I say or make fun of my words on my site.&lt;br /&gt;I can't always say that I know exactly what you mean but somehow it feels right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when I hear a song, I think about if you'd like it too.&lt;br /&gt;I pick up books that once just brushed my fingers tips&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if things that make me laugh will make you laugh too.&lt;br /&gt;And although I don't know enough, I do know you have soft lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be sitting, waiting, and wishing like a jack johnson song&lt;br /&gt;To have you tell me it would be good to be my valentine&lt;br /&gt;I'd bring you flowers and candy, would that be so wrong?&lt;br /&gt;So before we run out of time will be you be my sweet valentimes? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-214910171428291661?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/214910171428291661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=214910171428291661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/214910171428291661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/214910171428291661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/02/will-you-be-my-valentimes.html' title='Will you be my valentimes?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SZXNyOQUnLI/AAAAAAAAAV4/exR3QvDmenY/s72-c/1227071542.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3047840355690674468</id><published>2009-02-08T21:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:42:35.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't understand</title><content type='html'>You can't plan for the unexpected but you shouldn't dismiss even after it happens. I wish It was simple and I wish I had the answers because I could act on them. The deeper you dig, the farther you sink and I don't think I'm ready for that unknown. When you narrow it down, its not about doing what you want to do, Its about doing what you should do. Feelings can be &lt;span&gt;disorienting, you can lose sight and ultimately do more harm than good.&lt;br /&gt;Fortuity and caution usually don't go hand and hand, man timing is bitch along with geography I would say those are the two things that have hampered me in my life the most.  Anyways this probably doesn't make any sense but because I'm being as vague as possible. &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/19637877-3047840355690674468?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3047840355690674468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3047840355690674468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3047840355690674468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3047840355690674468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-cant-understand.html' title='You can&apos;t understand'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8180718479478299932</id><published>2009-01-29T10:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T11:47:14.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its been a little while..</title><content type='html'>What's that saying, A picture is worth a thousand words! Hmm, there's a mouthful of truth to that. I for one find that not all pictures tell you the same thing, if you know someone for instance, you know that look that person gives when they're utterly happy or sad. There's an acknowledgement of what the person might be feeling. I wonder what my picture would tell you. I know what I'm feeling at this very moment and its not ineffable, I could divulge but at the sake of just letting go of the whole damn experience I'll keep it to myself. I will say this, just because there is a picture with people smiling it doesn't equate to someone seeing that picture also smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, there were remnants of the past in that sentence...as much as I want to put that shit behind me, when it creeps up I still feel absolutely sick about it. Its soo true that you might forgive but you'll never forget..to be honest with you I would rather never forgive and just forget it all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anything, I need to experience catharsis. For some time I was driven by visceral notions.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have indignation and I'm struggling with it because its antipodean of what I felt for this person.  Years of desire,enthusiasm, and respect. I now have none for her, it makes me sad. The part that I strived for is transient, what remains is the last impression.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8180718479478299932?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8180718479478299932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8180718479478299932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8180718479478299932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8180718479478299932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-been-little-while.html' title='Its been a little while..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6210948939268776760</id><published>2009-01-19T15:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T16:28:56.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hay paz en la locura.</title><content type='html'>Aunque no te conosco es muy aparante que eres un mujer muy especial.&lt;br /&gt;Tus maners son explícita a tu personalidad.&lt;br /&gt;En mis poco momentos en que me haz dado la oportunidad para conocerte a mirado que eres sincera, tu curiosidad es adictivo, tu risa me da una sonrisa.&lt;br /&gt;Hay algo en ti que se siente muy familiar, casi se siente que te conocia, pero no lo sabia.&lt;br /&gt;Es imposible no querer seguir, a pesar de que sé que tendrá que terminar por que este encuentro es demasiado dulce para sobrevivir.&lt;br /&gt;Tus labios aún están grabado en mi mente como imágenes que nunca se desvanecen.&lt;br /&gt;Tus ojos son vibrantes y profundos, Si los sigo mirando seguramente me perderia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi lucha, es sabiendo lo que tengo que hacer y haciendo lo que quero hacer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ojala, que no seas un sueno..un lindo sueno que nunca deberia soñado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6210948939268776760?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6210948939268776760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6210948939268776760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6210948939268776760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6210948939268776760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/hay-paz-en-la-locura.html' title='Hay paz en la locura.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7564125613702188083</id><published>2009-01-14T21:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T22:15:57.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting again..</title><content type='html'>Bold, you're bold..but your words are sincere&lt;br /&gt;I can't figure you out,which explains why you fuel my curiosity&lt;br /&gt;I haven't a clue when it comes to what make you.. you.&lt;br /&gt;I play it cool and I say a thing or two, clever little sayings to distract you,&lt;br /&gt;distract you from seeing how nervous I get around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'm doing, I certainly don't know what I'm saying but It feels like things just happen&lt;br /&gt;they happen when I'm talking to you, A thought can turn into a hour, a hour can turn into a night,&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous what a night could turn into. There's no real explanation, is there? How insane can it be to want to talk to someone that you just met, some you just met again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew.. Not me, so here I go.&lt;br /&gt;Hi, You don't really know me and I don't really know you..but we've met, we've met again. I enjoy your company, I enjoy your thoughts, and I enjoy being around you. That's the only thing I know right now but that's ok for now. I'll take that over most things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7564125613702188083?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7564125613702188083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7564125613702188083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7564125613702188083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7564125613702188083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/meeting-again.html' title='Meeting again..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1169504562083892266</id><published>2009-01-12T10:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T10:32:02.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy post..</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What are your favorite shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;All of them, ha ha..i have a lot of shoes but I would have to say my favorite are my brown lace ups that look like boots but they’re not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What does your favorite shirt or blouse look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Well I’m assuming it would be shirt for me, so, hmm I like a plain white oxford with the sleeves rolled up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What does your favorite tee shirt say on it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“wi(red)”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you think you look better in casual or business attire?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you sleep in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Nothing..I sleep in absolutely nothing but sometime I don’t wake up that way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you wear expensive sneakers?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use to, but if 50 bucks is expensive then yes...I’m over labels when it comes to sneakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is your favorite hat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;My Fedora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your preference for women: Boxers or briefs?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I changed the question..I like women in boxers..sometimes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your preference for women: Suits or dresses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Pant suits..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 28, 2008…I never got to mail it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can you change the oil on a car?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can but I don’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Name three things you have on you at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Celly, keys, and a expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What’s your life motto?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Vida- What a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What’s a word that you say a lot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;yo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What were you doing at midnight last night?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the phone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Its good to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is your worst enemy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What does your watch look like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently it looks like a aluminum box with green numbers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there a day of the week that time seems to fly by faster than the other days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Thursday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there a day of the week that seems to never end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Tuesday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever had a strong crush on someone, but did not say anything to that person? If yes, why?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I’ve never been one to sit on my hands..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you had a crush in secret and then told that person? If yes, what happened?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t this like the question above…what happened next is that I moved on with my life son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever been stalked?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes but not by women..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever, in retrospect, stalked someone?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope but I coincidently ran into people all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever slept with someone on a first date?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever regretted not sleeping with someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This question should read “have you ever regretted sleeping with someone” because the answer would be, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What attracts you first to someone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Their eyes…their beautiful brown,blue,or green eyes……..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1169504562083892266?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1169504562083892266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1169504562083892266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1169504562083892266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1169504562083892266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/easy-post.html' title='Easy post..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1009183095646926323</id><published>2009-01-10T23:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T23:28:22.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When there's light at the end of the tunnel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWl1R2UfKzI/AAAAAAAAAVo/wucVYiwoL74/s1600-h/Lights.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 161px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWl1R2UfKzI/AAAAAAAAAVo/wucVYiwoL74/s320/Lights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289888186823027506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;buzzin&lt;/span&gt; right now and not in the sense that artificial sense. Like I have this smile on my face. I can't say that It was totally expected or all my doing but right now its very..sweet.  I don't always understand why things are the way they are but you gotta go with the flow. I'm left a little bit speechless after all because I don't know what to say, I don't know really what to say. I lingered but I knew I had to turn around and walk away. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, vague..yeah It certainly is but no more personal memoirs for the big bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;. All I can is that I'm still smiling even though I'm frowning..what will come of this chance encounter....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1009183095646926323?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1009183095646926323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1009183095646926323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1009183095646926323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1009183095646926323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-theres-light-at-end-of-tunnel.html' title='When there&apos;s light at the end of the tunnel.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWl1R2UfKzI/AAAAAAAAAVo/wucVYiwoL74/s72-c/Lights.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6553290180920251570</id><published>2009-01-04T20:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T21:05:21.357-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm ok...I'm finally feeling ok.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWFowukfkqI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yo8137c-Jww/s1600-h/Picture+25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWFowukfkqI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yo8137c-Jww/s320/Picture+25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287622623853777570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its taken some knocks to get me back to where I was before. I don't feel sorry for myself, I never did but now I don't feel sad. I have cheerful disposition on the future. Granted its not what I had in mind or what I had planned for but its mine nonetheless &amp;amp; I'm looking forward to grabbing and owning it. Is it a cliche, perhaps but life full of those, got make the best out of the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, 2009 a couple of weeks before my 30th birthday...They say 30 is the new 20, well I hope that isn't the case because I was a complete idiot at 20. I've done some growing up since then, I'm not finished product by no means but I'm steady. I don't blink, I don't shake,and I don't rattle..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways enough of this positive self talk mumbo jumbo. All I know is that I can't look back, I can't go back to where I was and to how I felt. I might not be ready for everything that will come way but I'm ready to get out this quicksand and find a new path.&lt;br /&gt;To me that just sounds really nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6553290180920251570?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6553290180920251570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6553290180920251570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6553290180920251570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6553290180920251570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-okim-finally-feeling-ok.html' title='I&apos;m ok...I&apos;m finally feeling ok.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SWFowukfkqI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Yo8137c-Jww/s72-c/Picture+25.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8752245943825468822</id><published>2008-12-31T19:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T19:52:37.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, 366 days,,</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVwTvtsFjAI/AAAAAAAAAVU/LLqe_XGREgY/s1600-h/n531648041_1169275_2178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVwTvtsFjAI/AAAAAAAAAVU/LLqe_XGREgY/s320/n531648041_1169275_2178.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286121773065407490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean its not like its the last day of school or anything and I can just throw my papers in the air....though it would be nice if we could just be like redo because its the new year. I wish but tomorrow will be like any other day except it will end with an 09. I've already did a review of this year and to be honest I really don't have much of anything new to say. I've come to realize that I really miss my family, I haven't laughed that much since I was living at Mechanic and everyone was there just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chillin&lt;/span&gt;. I've traveled a lot this year, well for not being a business traveler I did some flying albeit alone, which I don't like...I don't like doing things alone......I'm better in a pair then flying solo everywhere ( damn I have to stop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;seussing&lt;/span&gt;- {I made that word up})&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways the trip up to GR was good, I spent time with my sis and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Noah&lt;/span&gt;, took them out to brunch like the cool brother that I am, we talked, we laughed-the common variable this past weekend...I know where I get my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;silliness&lt;/span&gt;, its my mom..and I know where I get the other conflict traits, My dad.&lt;br /&gt;I'm rambling,  I should go shave because I look like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wookie&lt;/span&gt; right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to meet you 2008, can't say that I enjoyed you as much as I'd hope but we tried right, so I don't know how to tell you this but you should probably go...2009 is waiting for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8752245943825468822?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8752245943825468822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8752245943825468822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8752245943825468822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8752245943825468822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/wow-366-days.html' title='Wow, 366 days,,'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVwTvtsFjAI/AAAAAAAAAVU/LLqe_XGREgY/s72-c/n531648041_1169275_2178.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8385955270098503607</id><published>2008-12-30T01:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T01:40:33.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sentimental Playlist</title><content type='html'>A valiant try, to navigate to your heart through lyric and song.&lt;br /&gt;I've picked out 10, no make that 15, oh lets just say an even 20. 20 songs that will tell a story, a story about how I met a girl. Through perfect and imperfect circumstances we met and our conversation lasted, it lasted years, I thought I'd be in the middle of that for rest of my life. Even though I didn't know you and you didn't know me, you had my playlist. Each song, each tune told you how I felt about you. It was never meant to last you see, I was passing by on my way to my life, your words, your curves, your eyes and your sweet lies they all came together but the list had to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took ever nerve inside me to ask and Its taken every nerve to Let Go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming down to the end, I think I'll ride it out..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodluck, takecare, and peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8385955270098503607?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8385955270098503607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8385955270098503607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8385955270098503607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8385955270098503607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/sentimental-playlist.html' title='A Sentimental Playlist'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5659935919324874691</id><published>2008-12-25T12:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T12:44:27.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVPFirOl29I/AAAAAAAAAVM/n0V0s0oAVVM/s1600-h/1225081235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVPFirOl29I/AAAAAAAAAVM/n0V0s0oAVVM/s320/1225081235.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283783987345873874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I know this is a picture of a picture and that you can see the little HP in the back, well that happens to be the scanner that I was trying to use but it doesn't work so I'm doing a ghetto post.&lt;br /&gt;This is a pic of me and my mom way back when, she's pretty great and I'm very happy to have her as my mom. She gave me the best present today, a ticket to come see her and my family! I'm pretty stoked about that seeing how I would be sitting in my house today by myself eating ramen noodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure everyone has their hero's, mine just happens to be my mom! =)&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5659935919324874691?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5659935919324874691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5659935919324874691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5659935919324874691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5659935919324874691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/thanks-mom.html' title='Thanks Mom'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SVPFirOl29I/AAAAAAAAAVM/n0V0s0oAVVM/s72-c/1225081235.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-658253241205467276</id><published>2008-12-23T13:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T13:25:06.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another version to a wonderful song..</title><content type='html'>If the fish swam out of the ocean&lt;br /&gt;and grew legs and they started walking&lt;br /&gt;and the apes climbed down from the trees&lt;br /&gt;and grew tall and they started talking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the stars fell out of the sky&lt;br /&gt;and my tears rolled into the ocean&lt;br /&gt;now i'm looking for a reason why&lt;br /&gt;you even set my world into motion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause if you're not really here&lt;br /&gt;then the stars don't even matter&lt;br /&gt;now i'm filled to the top with fear&lt;br /&gt;but it's all just a bunch of matter&lt;br /&gt;'cause if you're not really here&lt;br /&gt;then i don't want to be either&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be next to you&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i looked up into the night sky&lt;br /&gt;and see a thousand eyes staring back&lt;br /&gt;and all around these golden beacons&lt;br /&gt;i see nothing but black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel a way of something beyond them&lt;br /&gt;i don't see what i can feel&lt;br /&gt;if vision is the only validation&lt;br /&gt;then most of my life isn't real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause if you're not really here&lt;br /&gt;then the stars don't even matter&lt;br /&gt;now i'm filled to the top with fear&lt;br /&gt;but it's all just a bunch of matter&lt;br /&gt;'cause if you're not really here&lt;br /&gt;then i don't want to be either&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be next to you&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;black and gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pennedmadness.com/2008/10/kate-perry-covers-sam-sparro.html"&gt;Listen here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-658253241205467276?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/658253241205467276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=658253241205467276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/658253241205467276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/658253241205467276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-version-to-wonderful-song.html' title='Another version to a wonderful song..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4719460885104629211</id><published>2008-12-23T10:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:33:43.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bookwormfarm.com/les-campbell/"&gt;They couldn't help but notice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://modernastrophysics.org/les-campbell/"&gt;Hey ya'll&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://moneymoneymoneymaker.com/les-campbell/"&gt;$$$&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://isdnews.com/les-campbell/"&gt;Because sometimes sports matter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://the-super-fan.com/les-campbell/"&gt;This is why I'm hot&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4719460885104629211?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4719460885104629211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4719460885104629211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4719460885104629211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4719460885104629211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-im-bored.html' title='Because I&apos;m bored'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7604953957862004004</id><published>2008-12-22T02:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T02:13:46.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't sleep..</title><content type='html'>I don't know how it started again..but Its ten after 2 and I can't fall asleep?!&lt;br /&gt;That kind of worries me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll try harder..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 more days till Christmas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No snow, no ice, but yet this might be the coldest christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 days left and this year is over...looking for a fresh start in the odd year..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm boring myself into sleep so I guess this worked..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7604953957862004004?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7604953957862004004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7604953957862004004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7604953957862004004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7604953957862004004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t sleep..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6064558408869598648</id><published>2008-12-16T14:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T14:48:18.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Xmas</title><content type='html'>I find it funny the things that people give each other for presents. I have a rich history of interesting gifts, I've been given a pair of pj's for Xmas from my ass hole step-father but he also got me a tool box( though that doesn't make up for him being a tool...no pun intended) I've gotten a VHS tape that I found out didn't work, along with a Betty bop wallet which I think I still have somewhere, in fact I might of used it briefly. Its rare that I get what I asked for and even when I do the person who gave it me to acts as if they don't like what I asked for?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're probably saying he's being stupid, OK, perhaps but I remember Christmas circa 1987 *I might be off a year or two* when my folks took me to walmart to pick out my present, it should be a win win situation for me right? Wrong! I picked a Nintendo game system, it was the last one on the shelf and I picked it up and took it to my cart. Man I was soo happy because I thought I was getting a Nintendo; I could see myself playing Mario all day the next day. Somehow, I don't know how they decided that the Nintendo wasn't right for me!? So they picked out this other system, it was a learning system called Socrates and it cost more than the stupid Nintendo! You know how bummed I was, that I fooled myself into thinking if I answered all the damn math questions with out missing one that I would unlock Double Dragon at the end of it..that never panned out but I did get really good at math..thanks Ma &amp;amp; Alex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a little bit sheepish bringing it up since I have contributed to one of those gifts that makes you scratch your head..I sold my bread maker two days ago to a very spirited lady off craigslist.&lt;br /&gt;As we exchanged our final goodbyes she told me she was giving this as a present to her ex-boyfriend who she is still friendly with. I thought of the irony of it all, My whatever you wanna call it is contributing to yet another head scratching move...the lady seemed attached to this man and here she was buying him a bread maker, nothing says "I couldn't care less what you want" than giving a bread maker to a MAN. I get it now, It just took me a year to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would like to apologize to that ex-boyfriend who will be getting my bread maker. I didn't do anything to deserve it but you must of been a real piece of work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6064558408869598648?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6064558408869598648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6064558408869598648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6064558408869598648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6064558408869598648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/xmas.html' title='Xmas'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2852652143675894331</id><published>2008-12-14T00:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T11:23:56.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Posting..</title><content type='html'>As of late I've been contemplating about shutting down, as in just not ever writing on this blog/journal or as I like to say this open wound again. I'm pretty sure that I have no clue of how I actually feel right now. If I were to describe myself in a color I would say that I'm a shade of Melancholy that is close to enough to be mistaken for sad. I think God created Love to keep people from ever getting too smart, because as clever, witty or smart as I ever feel when it comes to loving someone that I shouldn't love, I'm absolutely stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Damnit, I'm at crossing at a pivotal point in that I need to make a conscience decision to never go back, I could love you forever and I could say I'd wait forever but I have a life to live that doesn't involve maybe's and flaky desicion making. You think...I don't know what you think, I don't know you anymore. I literally don't know who you are anymore.  I am but stranger at your door, with words that meant something but they don't mean shit anymore. I can ponder, I can hope, I can try to do things that will help me cope but I don't want to know you anymore.  Everyday traces of you chip away, yesterday I forgot how I met you, today I don't recognize your smile, and tomorrow well tomorrow who knows what else might wash away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not ok but there isn't much I can do about it anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2852652143675894331?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2852652143675894331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2852652143675894331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2852652143675894331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2852652143675894331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/posting.html' title='Posting..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8883956811310790605</id><published>2008-12-09T14:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:59:47.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i just need: to yell as loud as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i want: to just disappear for a while&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i like to: say absurd things for the reactions&lt;br /&gt;sometimes all it takes: is a smile..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i picture: sitting on a bench smiling and being happy with the choices I’ve made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i wish: That I was the first and only choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i find: it hard to hide my feelings when i really need to be hiding my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i take: The longest way home because I don’t want to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i look:  great but feel like shit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i hate: having to wait for things to become clear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it’s nice: to just not care..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it hurts: to think back how much I’ve been taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it makes me happy: helping others that didn’t expect my help but were appreciative anyways.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it’s sad: to think about how much time I wasted on one part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i listen: to nothing, absolute silence. Its extremely loud when this happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i sleep: with 5 pillows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i like to watch: Girly shows….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i feel: like I was born in the wrong era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i rant: About sports..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i never: know when to say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i really: wonder if i'm ever truly awake.(I kept this one because I totally think about this..alot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I’m ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sad, i want: to be around people that love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy, i need: to be able to share it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mad, i wish: I acted like I didn’t care..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;overjoyed, i find: I feel like a kid again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;indifferent, i like to: Just let things happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;content, i never: I’m never really content..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;frustrated, all it takes: A good release of energy to ease my angst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you saw your best friend on one side of the road, but you also saw one of your close family members on the other side, and they were both in serious danger, who would you go to help first?... My famly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you had the choice of going back in time or to go forward in time to see the future, which would you choose?... I think like an analyst, so I could effect both by going back in time..so I’d go back..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jesus was standing right in front of you, what would you say to him?... I’m trying really hard but I need your help, please give me peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8883956811310790605?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8883956811310790605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8883956811310790605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8883956811310790605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8883956811310790605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4818669998952880069</id><published>2008-12-05T12:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T12:17:39.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>26 days..</title><content type='html'>Thats all that is left from 2008...Geez, Its crazy that you could blink and its done! I think its hilarious how time can drag its feets or just rush on by whatever it does you never really have a choice in the matter-you're an unwilling passenger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I had another little session lastnight and I'm actually glad that I decided to go to the rapy..I'm a conflicted person in that I fight my logic and my heart, Its humerous to me that I'm really dumb when it comes to this...the matters of the heart but then again love is blind. (ugh cliche)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm soo sleepy right now..that i think I'm going to go out to my car and take a little nap..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4818669998952880069?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4818669998952880069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4818669998952880069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4818669998952880069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4818669998952880069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/26-days.html' title='26 days..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-91608397806144616</id><published>2008-12-01T14:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T14:41:52.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know</title><content type='html'>I look at that picture, the one that your family has so kindly posted of you and your boyfriend ( saying it makes me a bit uneasy) makes me extremely sad. The heading over your group pic stings as well but I suppose that it is part of life, we don't mean as much to others as we think...I wish I could say I reacted in a positive way but who am I kidding, I'm emotionally charged and my logic takes a backseat at that point. It would be nice if I could I could just forget you and replace you like you're doing with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know you anymore, I look at you and you're a stranger. There are hints of what I knew but those are just words that mean as much as our past.&lt;br /&gt;One day this blog will consist of things that don't refer to you. One day I'll go through the day without whispering your name, one day my mind won't linger on the thought of you, One day you'll stop to matter, One day I'll stop wondering why you had to go, and one day I'll stop loving you. Soon that day will come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-91608397806144616?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/91608397806144616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=91608397806144616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/91608397806144616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/91608397806144616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-dont-know.html' title='I don&apos;t know'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4205753223558554410</id><published>2008-11-29T20:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T22:31:00.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you forget me</title><content type='html'>I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;one thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how this is: &lt;br /&gt;if I look &lt;br /&gt;at the crystal moon, at the red branch &lt;br /&gt;of the slow autumn at my window, &lt;br /&gt;if I touch &lt;br /&gt;near the fire &lt;br /&gt;the impalpable ash &lt;br /&gt;or the wrinkled body of the log, &lt;br /&gt;everything carries me to you, &lt;br /&gt;as if everything that exists, &lt;br /&gt;aromas, light, metals, &lt;br /&gt;were little boats &lt;br /&gt;that sail &lt;br /&gt;toward those isles of yours that wait for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now, &lt;br /&gt;if little by little you stop loving me &lt;br /&gt;I shall stop loving you little by little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If suddenly &lt;br /&gt;you forget me &lt;br /&gt;do not look for me, &lt;br /&gt;for I shall already have forgotten you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think it long and mad, &lt;br /&gt;the wind of banners &lt;br /&gt;that passes through my life, &lt;br /&gt;and you decide &lt;br /&gt;to leave me at the shore &lt;br /&gt;of the heart where I have roots, &lt;br /&gt;remember &lt;br /&gt;that on that day, &lt;br /&gt;at that hour, &lt;br /&gt;I shall lift my arms &lt;br /&gt;and my roots will set off &lt;br /&gt;to seek another land. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;br /&gt;if each day, &lt;br /&gt;each hour, &lt;br /&gt;you feel that you are destined for me &lt;br /&gt;with implacable sweetness, &lt;br /&gt;if each day a flower &lt;br /&gt;climbs up to your lips to seek me, &lt;br /&gt;ah my love, ah my own, &lt;br /&gt;in me all that fire is repeated, &lt;br /&gt;in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, &lt;br /&gt;my love feeds on your love, beloved, &lt;br /&gt;and as long as you live it will be in your arms &lt;br /&gt;without leaving mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4205753223558554410?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4205753223558554410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4205753223558554410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4205753223558554410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4205753223558554410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-you-forget-me.html' title='If you forget me'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5322918638837150896</id><published>2008-11-26T10:14:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T14:38:13.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving-thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SS13KwIYdqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/MX6TGbNVjWg/s1600-h/1123081619.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273001765323175586" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SS13KwIYdqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/MX6TGbNVjWg/s320/1123081619.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a year Its been, memorable in every which way. I know its not over but its pretty much barrelling to an end after this week. Its really amazing to think all that has happened up to now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of my bestfriend's got engaged on the very first day, &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;mmurill,GH and jb had their first kids this year, &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Justin got a girlfriend&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The cubs were good again and then they were bad again! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I voted for change and I finally felt like I was heard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;America was able to look past the shade of a man to find a new leader&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was reminded how great and amazing it is to have great friends. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was reunited with all my family. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I spoke to the man who I called dad for 14 yrs again after 10yrs of silence.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I flew, I flew, and I flew again but I never got away from what I flew from.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went home again...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got a ticket and then 3 days later I got another one&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I laughed more than I ever had before&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I cried more than I ever have&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got fat and then lost a lot of it in weeks..&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I put myself out there and everyone saw how vulnerable I can be.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I held a baby and It felt right.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I found myself while I was getting lost&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had amazing conversations with strangers on plane rides&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I ran into people in planes, airports, and churches that I never expected to see.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I fell in love again this year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My integrity was questioned and then my character answered those questions. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I spent a lot of money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I saw Alex say I do&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I heard HER say I can't.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Though I thought I had given up on God, he hasn't given up on me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Although some of it was bad and some of it was good, I'm giving thanks for all of it. Its not a perfect life but its my life, at least it was this year. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eat turkey, drink wine, fall asleep, or whatever you do this time of year, just live in the moment. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5322918638837150896?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5322918638837150896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5322918638837150896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5322918638837150896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5322918638837150896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/giving-thanks.html' title='Giving-thanks'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SS13KwIYdqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/MX6TGbNVjWg/s72-c/1123081619.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7549515413681064364</id><published>2008-11-25T11:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T12:35:44.048-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing what I have to..</title><content type='html'>I spent last night among a group of guys that I never ever really hang out with...but the other option was being alone at home and that isn't a option that I wanted to exercise.&lt;br /&gt;You know its only seems fitting that as my life is falling apart at the same time as our country is melting. No, I don't see any correlation...wait, wait..perhaps..there is..hear me out. The powers that be believed that our large private corporations best interest also included the best interest of the country which I could in a very sheepish way translate into I believed that my beautiful ex best interest also included my best interest. However I don't get a bailout!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..I've been channeling some energy into actual activities. I visited the nice punching machine at the wing house and I got a 886, on my first punch, the high score is 926 and the guy spent $30 bucks to get that score. There was a group of guys playing pool and they were impressed with my score, I was told that it's a redneck game-you go to the fair,get drunk, and punch the bag all day?! All I could do is think about how many teeth the guys were missing while they were telling me the story. My response to his little story was "Hey man I just have some pent up frustration that I need to get rid of.."There is something primitive about punching a bag, as if just hitting something as hard as you can will solve anything but for its bonehead notion I have to say it feels damn good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7549515413681064364?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7549515413681064364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7549515413681064364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7549515413681064364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7549515413681064364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/doing-what-i-have-to.html' title='Doing what I have to..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4320680168010777628</id><published>2008-11-23T19:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T20:44:19.121-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If I ever...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSoF-AwuK8I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/V0redzzxxmw/s1600-h/1123081628.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSoF-AwuK8I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/V0redzzxxmw/s320/1123081628.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272032876704967618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got in the car today and I just drove.  I drove to coast, I ended up at the Atlantic or New Smyrna Beach to be more specific. I drove to the spot that I'm most familiar and I just walked, I walked and I walked some more.  The sun was setting behind the tall condo on the beach, there weren't that many people out but enough were there to make feel like I wasn't all alone. I took pictures and waved hi to a couple of kids riding around in scooter. I did a lot of thinking and arguing with myself.  Sometimes thats the best kind, to hear yourself out and realize what you're saying is either the craziest thing you've said or smartest. I haven't been that smart lately, I haven't been able to help myself through this ordeal that I've been thrown into. I don't feel sorry for myself and I hope that no one does but I do feel helpless. I should be loved the way that I loved, I should be treated the way I've treated...I'm good enough, I'm better than good enough... I'm&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSoF-UpjJRI/AAAAAAAAAUY/vs45mAco67k/s1600-h/1123081625.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSoF-UpjJRI/AAAAAAAAAUY/vs45mAco67k/s320/1123081625.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272032882043594002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; tired of having to go through the same crap. I'm over the confusion, there isn't anything confusing about me, that's why you date. You put in the work and sometimes you get rich and sometimes you go broke, but in the end you know, you just know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever wake up from this..I hope I can look back and say I'm a better man because of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4320680168010777628?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4320680168010777628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4320680168010777628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4320680168010777628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4320680168010777628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-i-ever.html' title='If I ever...'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSoF-AwuK8I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/V0redzzxxmw/s72-c/1123081628.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2849574968016821271</id><published>2008-11-21T10:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T14:36:31.384-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There isn't a freckle I haven't named</title><content type='html'>I did my best to notice when the time was right and I'm formulating thoughts into words.&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me if I'm forward in speaking about my heart but my intentions are pure.&lt;br /&gt;I'm no longer weak and you're running out of time to speak.&lt;br /&gt;Its time to know, Will you do what you say or will you let me go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A future lays ahead for us regardless of what we do.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I'm sorry that we don't live in a perfect story.&lt;br /&gt;If I could I'd be a thief I'd change my stars to a Maple leaf.&lt;br /&gt;I never wanted to say goodbye but wake up see you smile and whisper hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every passing day my angst builds, this isn't a race it has its pace.&lt;br /&gt;I use to think that I was lacking, I was coming up short but now I know that isn't the case.&lt;br /&gt;I've jumped in, I've let go of the edge, could we be strangers by the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know your looks, I know your smiles, I know your laughs, I know your kisses, and I knew your heart. I've noticed when you thought I didn't, I listened when you thought I couldn't, I've loved you when I thought I shouldn't. I know you...I know you. Don't hold that against me.&lt;br /&gt;~Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2849574968016821271?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2849574968016821271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2849574968016821271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2849574968016821271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2849574968016821271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/there-isnt-freckle-i-havent-named.html' title='There isn&apos;t a freckle I haven&apos;t named'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6795342619194948103</id><published>2008-11-19T00:03:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T18:01:41.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSOnYdymb2I/AAAAAAAAATo/Ab37IdRJbz8/s1600-h/76456267_4ff42eb1fd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270240027709173602" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSOnYdymb2I/AAAAAAAAATo/Ab37IdRJbz8/s320/76456267_4ff42eb1fd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For every sweet dream that my mind could see&lt;br /&gt;there always seem to be a nice similarity&lt;br /&gt;you were my sweet honey and I was your bumble bee&lt;br /&gt;But no matter what it was, it always just about you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took your words for more than they were worth&lt;br /&gt;cause I was sure that we'd love each other till we left this earth&lt;br /&gt;for all we hoped and fought for, and our precious time&lt;br /&gt;I kneeled down so I could ask If you'd always be mine.&lt;br /&gt;...But...&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been the same since that day in July&lt;br /&gt;I would of loved you till the day that I die&lt;br /&gt;Now when we talk, I fight the urge to cry&lt;br /&gt;Because when I hear you say you love me, I know its just a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you should know If I had a choice I'd share my love and life.&lt;br /&gt;When it came to you I'd always pick to be on your side&lt;br /&gt;I'd hope you'd take my ring and you'd say you'd be my wife&lt;br /&gt;But instead I'm calling you today to say that this is my last goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~By ME&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6795342619194948103?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6795342619194948103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6795342619194948103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6795342619194948103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6795342619194948103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/3.html' title='&lt;3'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSOnYdymb2I/AAAAAAAAATo/Ab37IdRJbz8/s72-c/76456267_4ff42eb1fd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5703672158487164512</id><published>2008-11-16T10:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:42:02.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSA_sGMQCmI/AAAAAAAAATg/6ZdGGEHEIYU/s1600-h/1108081355-724126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269281590832269922" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSA_sGMQCmI/AAAAAAAAATg/6ZdGGEHEIYU/s320/1108081355-724126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5703672158487164512?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5703672158487164512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5703672158487164512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5703672158487164512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5703672158487164512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-message-was-sent-using-picture-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SSA_sGMQCmI/AAAAAAAAATg/6ZdGGEHEIYU/s72-c/1108081355-724126.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5885706269093119346</id><published>2008-11-16T01:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T10:41:31.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Logic and reason</title><content type='html'>Its interesting that you those things (Logic and Reason) go hand and hand. If one is missing the other one lacks, like talking to a person that says they can relate to you but the can't really relate to me unless they're me..there's only one me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After church today I stopped by lily park on my way home. What was suppose to be a short little stop but it ended up being a hour + stay. I just sat on the benches and stared at the fountain out in the middle of the pond. I stared at its simplicity, they way it only did one thing, shoot water up out of the lake. I listened to my Ipod and tried to let the world just pass me by. The single mom feeding the  duck with her little tike, the elderly man teaching his grandson how to ride his bike....there was a collection of variety on hand today. It was peaceful to allow myself to just let everything go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired...I think I might just close my eyes and see what tomorrow brings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5885706269093119346?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5885706269093119346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5885706269093119346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5885706269093119346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5885706269093119346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/logic-and-reason.html' title='Logic and reason'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-519143605094588498</id><published>2008-11-12T10:39:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T12:19:30.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rakastan, Amor, Love, Amore.Je t'aime</title><content type='html'>I recently visited a friend's blog and the most recent post was about Love. Here's the link &lt;a href="http://idontknowihopeso.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-about-love.html"&gt;Its About Love&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its very compelling argument, actually I don't think its an argument as much as its a call to our hearts, perhaps to our logic. I voted NO on amendment 2, because I don't think I can deny others their happiness just because I don't choose to live their lifestyle. The same time we elect our first black president we still struggle with the idea of love and who can love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all strive to find someone that we can love, a person that feels like home. I can't choose who I love, the heart and mind want what they want. The same can be said about everyone, it doesn't have to make sense to you or me as long as it makes sense to those who are in love. I scribbled something down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart will beat for you even though you choose to look the other way.&lt;br /&gt;Call it what you will, a long uphill battle but its a thrill. Our love is raw, our love is true.&lt;br /&gt;I'd face the world to proclaim my ache, against all odds, through my pain, through our shame, this love here, until I break it will remain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-519143605094588498?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/519143605094588498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=519143605094588498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/519143605094588498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/519143605094588498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/rakastan-amor-love-amoreje-taime.html' title='Rakastan, Amor, Love, Amore.Je t&apos;aime'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-4130922750175625284</id><published>2008-11-10T11:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T12:44:38.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Proximity isn't a quality, its a coincidence.</title><content type='html'>Accessibility is a dangerous commodity when dealing with a wounded heart. Progress can be altered and feelings can resurface, the notion of just because is more cruel than it should be. Say what you mean to say and not what you feel you had to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~I am not at the point where I can ignore a call from you because I no longer need to hear what you have to say or because the sound of your voice no longer has an effect on me. I am incapable of hiding how I feel about you, It always takes me a day to be able to cope with our conversations, what we talked about is between you and me...but why do you make things so damn hard. My mind is racing now, my hands are shaking, and my heart is pounding out of my chest because I'm twisting and turning, I'm upside down when I'm right side up....you tell me that I need to understand but you yourself don't understand. Our conversations aren't going to be just casual, I don't know what it means to be casual with you....you have been my best friend, you've been my partner, you've been my dreams, you've been my rock, you've been my everything. That's why I can't trust myself when it comes to you; when it comes to you I don't follow logic, I follow my heart, and frankly I want to kick my heart in the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will always be setbacks, and there always be challenges..but with every roadblock there's an opportunity for progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-4130922750175625284?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/4130922750175625284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=4130922750175625284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4130922750175625284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/4130922750175625284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/proximity-isnt-quality-its-coincidence.html' title='Proximity isn&apos;t a quality, its a coincidence.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-509328810486828804</id><published>2008-11-06T00:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T00:05:42.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where has the time gone?</title><content type='html'>Its sucks, time doesn't stop, even when it feels like you're stuck in slow motion, people have moved on, life has moved on. I can close my eyes right now and think back 10 yrs, I was back in Michigan in my first qtr at Andrews, I remember thinking how much I hated being there. It was a tough time period for me because I didn't know many people ironically I came away with a bucket load of friendships I still have today. I don't want to get all melancholy, the reality of it is that I'm a sensitive person, emotional would actually be a better way to describe me. aaaaaaaaaaaaaa.... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like shit..I still feel like shit..I'm trying really hard to move on, it might be Nov for everyone else but it still feels like its July to me...at this very moment I find it hard to enjoy the things that I use to enjoy. I laugh, I smile, I jump, I run, I drink and I eat...but they don't feel the same right now.... I don't really want to talk about it because I know people don't  want to hear it but its my life righ tnow and when it comes out its because its fucking consuming me..it fuels my anger, it charges my disappointment, and it enhances my vulnerability...I don't have a choice, its just to much to keep it inside. Why can I say this ..well this blog is like a mirror to me, I don't see anyone else but me. I'm talking aloud, I can't choose who will hear me.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I have are words, words can reach where my eyes can't see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they encompass a feeling but they can't tell the whole story about me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I find songs that can resonate about my pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These ain't songs about hate but I know I'll never love the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the night, I hear 'em talk, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the coldest story ever told &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you be so heartless? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh.. How could you be so heartless?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you be so, cold as the winter wind when it breeze, yo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just remember that you talkin' to me though &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know need to watch the way you talkin' to me, yo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean after all the things that we've been through &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean after all the things we got into &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey yo, I know of some things that you ain't told me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey yo, I did some things but that's the old me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now you wanna get me back and you gon' show me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you walk around like you don't know me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You got a new friend, well I got homies &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in the end it's still so lonely &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the night, I hear 'em talk, the coldest story ever told&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you be so heartless? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh.. How could you be so heartless? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could be so Dr. Evil, you bringin' out a side of me that I dont know.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I decided we weren't gon' speak so &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why we up 3 A.M. on the phone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why does she be so mad at me fo' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Homie I dont know, she's hot and cold &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't stop, I won't mess my groove up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Cause I already know how this thing go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You run and tell your friends that you're leaving me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say that they don't see what you see in me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You wait a couple months then you gon' see &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'll never find nobody better than me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the night, I hear 'em talk, the coldest story ever told&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless..&lt;br /&gt;How could you be so heartless?&lt;br /&gt;Oh.. How could you be so heartless? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talkin', talkin', talkin', talk &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Baby let's just knock it off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They don't know what we been through &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They don't know 'bout me and you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I got something new to see &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you just gon' keep hatin' me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we just gon' be enemies &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you can't believe &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could just leave it wrong &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you can't make it right I'm gon' take off tonight &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Into the night... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the night, I hear 'em talk, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the coldest story ever told &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you be so heartless? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh.. How could you be so heartless?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~Kayne West&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-509328810486828804?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/509328810486828804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=509328810486828804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/509328810486828804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/509328810486828804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/where-has-time-gone.html' title='Where has the time gone?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1968461951571052258</id><published>2008-11-03T10:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T15:40:13.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days</title><content type='html'>My head feels heavy, it could be the congestion or it could be all the thoughts running around causing me to be a little light headed. I know, how can my head feel heavy if its light headed? I don't know. To be honest with you I don't understand alot of things that happen in life, Particularly my life, things shouldn't be so damn hard..people are by nature simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a much as I like to say that everyone is different, the things that I need in my life are pretty much the same as everyone else. I need to be nourished, spiritually, emotionally, and physically.&lt;br /&gt;If I thought I was lonely before, now I'm a damn Island. The comfort I had in talking to someone that I thought loved me and cherish me has been eradicated and replaced with empty words and memories that really don't mean anything. If I were told that after being with someone for 3yrs all you'll have is memories I'd tell that person to go sit it on it. The gestures bring no comfort, the pleasantries are just that... pleasantries, who stays in a relationship just for the consolation prize? I'll tell you, NO ONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, evaluating myself, I'm trying to pick myself up from a hole that I help dig. I would love nothing more than act like she's acting and have the dumb self serving responses, to act in rash manner because the situation calls for it. Is it responsible to act irresponsible if you know that it will help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was asked what I will be looking for in the next person that I meet ( Its a scary thing to think about since I don't know if I'll be ready for a long time) but I was able to scribble some things down.&lt;br /&gt;1. Integrity-Does what they say they'll do.&lt;br /&gt;2. A true understanding of themselves, (I can't go through anymore growing pains with women.)&lt;br /&gt;3.Someone that has a strong foundation, friends and a social life outside of me.&lt;br /&gt;4.Lives their life for them and not what others want them to live&lt;br /&gt;5.Most importantly someone that knows how to love themselves so if God willing they can love me the right way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think its too much to ask to be with someone thats figured out who they are so they don't have to use me to figure that out..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1968461951571052258?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1968461951571052258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1968461951571052258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1968461951571052258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1968461951571052258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3548171748478158961</id><published>2008-10-30T22:38:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T00:42:59.465-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This has been one of those weeks that I would soon hope to forget</title><content type='html'>I've gotten two tickets, a car accident, pull my groin, and tomorrow would of have been an anniversary not realized with hol. When it rains, it pours! I'm feeling a little bit numb to everything, my therapist says that my external presentation is one that would leave you to believe that i'm dealing with this really well..but my words say otherwise. Its clearly apparent to her that I still love hol..but I'm making some head way, that I'm looking at the relationship for what it was..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to her about how I cry every time I see my sister's DVD ( you know the collection of pictures, video with Noah)...It hurts because I have that, I have the mountains of pictures of places where we where together, the video's of us doing stuff, the history of a relationship that spans a couple of years...but there's nothing behind those pictures...it was a shell of pretty much nothing. Its a DVD that will never be made. That hurts, its hurts to know that its not meant to be and perhaps was never meant to be...its a damn waste of time...I still feel love but all I  get is this damn pity. I don't need pity, I don't need the nice gestures and empty words, I needed it to be real..I'm coming undone at the seams, my life is unraveling and I'm coming to find out that I was loving a lie, I was dreaming, and that all I held true was just a collection of words. Everything has come crashing on me...there's nothing worse than being lied to and being lied to with a smile. Though everyone has moved on from the initial shock of it..I'm still living it, it hasn't gotten easier..tomorrow doesn't stop meaning what it would of meant if nothing had changed. I didn't get all of sudden better...I'm still hurt..and I'm still fucking mad...but now I'm less blind then the day before.. and every time you call him and you say what you say, it doesn't make it any more true just because you've stop calling me and you've thrown me out of your life. We must be the two dumbest people in the world, but for two different reasons..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3548171748478158961?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3548171748478158961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3548171748478158961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3548171748478158961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3548171748478158961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-has-been-one-of-those-weeks-that-i.html' title='This has been one of those weeks that I would soon hope to forget'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6208014570055910055</id><published>2008-10-28T11:04:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T00:09:47.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More pics if You didn't know to click on the link.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcr0GEiZ7I/AAAAAAAAAPo/8ADrHYwMb7o/s1600-h/2974384731_dbb59def6b_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222863588550578" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 320px; height: 213px;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcr0GEiZ7I/AAAAAAAAAPo/8ADrHYwMb7o/s320/2974384731_dbb59def6b_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrFBlQpSI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/fRB4VSjnPU4/s1600-h/2975250382_a53192e924_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222054929769762" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; height: 320px; text-align: right;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrFBlQpSI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/fRB4VSjnPU4/s320/2975250382_a53192e924_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrgCdfrJI/AAAAAAAAAPg/RK9JMfJmMN0/s1600-h/2974403655_ca0278b952_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222519022103698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 213px; height: 320px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrgCdfrJI/AAAAAAAAAPg/RK9JMfJmMN0/s320/2974403655_ca0278b952_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrFIeSvRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/LrCZtDHubTY/s1600-h/2974402217_5a1e1c1034_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222056779595026" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 213px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrFIeSvRI/AAAAAAAAAPI/LrCZtDHubTY/s320/2974402217_5a1e1c1034_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrEuAiwKI/AAAAAAAAAPA/kFbnX5ITaKY/s1600-h/2974396485_111473247b_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222049675493538" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; height: 320px; text-align: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrEuAiwKI/AAAAAAAAAPA/kFbnX5ITaKY/s320/2974396485_111473247b_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrECeXAsI/AAAAAAAAAO4/Fn9k8ZCSOyU/s1600-h/2974387941_1d4303fb2a_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222037989393090" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; height: 320px; text-align: right;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrECeXAsI/AAAAAAAAAO4/Fn9k8ZCSOyU/s320/2974387941_1d4303fb2a_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrEGjsLkI/AAAAAAAAAOw/VD6KltrR9Zw/s1600-h/2975236314_a3e31721f0_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262222039085493826" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 213px; text-align: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcrEGjsLkI/AAAAAAAAAOw/VD6KltrR9Zw/s320/2975236314_a3e31721f0_b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6208014570055910055?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6208014570055910055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6208014570055910055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6208014570055910055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6208014570055910055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/more-pics-if-didnt-know-to-click-on.html' title='More pics if You didn&apos;t know to click on the link.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQcr0GEiZ7I/AAAAAAAAAPo/8ADrHYwMb7o/s72-c/2974384731_dbb59def6b_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3198187383762277092</id><published>2008-10-27T10:33:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T13:16:12.963-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Noah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knowledge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>I teared up..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX04fT3IAI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8ynNkEK-t8Q/s1600-h/1025081733a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261880990966947842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX04fT3IAI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8ynNkEK-t8Q/s320/1025081733a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/gauper"&gt;Mr and Mrs Noah Desmit &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX0CwC_5WI/AAAAAAAAAOg/tSzz32GXN-o/s1600-h/1025081741.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261880067746686306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX0CwC_5WI/AAAAAAAAAOg/tSzz32GXN-o/s320/1025081741.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQXSyRR1SwI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/YwkK1ZszEAU/s1600-h/n152001185_30648306_8085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261843500725783298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQXSyRR1SwI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/YwkK1ZszEAU/s320/n152001185_30648306_8085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I guess it was hard not to get choked up when I saw my baby sister in her white wedding dress. I remember us growing up, which seems like a eternity ago. I believe that if we surround ourselves with good people good things happen and Noah is definitely good people. How he's able to deal with Alex is probably the most impressive thing, she's a firecracker, she's been a firecracker since the first time I laid eyes on her at Grandma's house and they said this is your little sister{ she smelled funny :) } ... I have to be honest that I was disappointed that she was a girl because I wanted a brother. I got over it and I'm soo thankful to God that he gave me a sister like her and A mom like mine, and a family like the one I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX0CcLOl5I/AAAAAAAAAOY/vgdA9X3SHmM/s1600-h/1025081733.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261880062412494738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX0CcLOl5I/AAAAAAAAAOY/vgdA9X3SHmM/s320/1025081733.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was I a little sad that I got beat to the alter, yeah ..but not because I wasn't first..it has more to do with everything that you spend, the things you sacrifice and I never felt that Holly was willing to sacrifice anything for me. The more and more I realize it and dissolve this I'm seeing how selfish she was. Everything was about her, from moving here and moving away and not coming back, me moving up there wasn't about us it was more about her. Was I selfish too, heck yeah but I was willing to sacrifice, I was willing to give up everything but what was she willing to sacrifice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its interesting how weddings make you take stock of your relationships, present and past. I thought as I waited for my sister to walk down the aisle, if I would of asked earlier would it have been different? I don't think it would of, me asking a month earlier a week earlier wouldn't have made her be any different. It wasn't the relationship that was the problem but the mere fact that she doesn't know who she is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... "better now than later" that is the common thing that I've kept on hearing I ... I just wished you would of worked on you, because there is something missing in you, you were right about that but what are you doing about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You probably did me a favor and saved me a world of heartache, In the end I guess you underestimated how much I loved you and I over estimated how much you love me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3198187383762277092?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3198187383762277092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3198187383762277092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3198187383762277092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3198187383762277092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-teared-up.html' title='I teared up..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SQX04fT3IAI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8ynNkEK-t8Q/s72-c/1025081733a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-632535413011792474</id><published>2008-10-23T10:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T10:44:27.908-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="360" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://s3.moveon.org/swf/embed.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="id=MwY7NSStCP53ytzie8oCIDI4NDg0Nzc-"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed FlashVars="id=MwY7NSStCP53ytzie8oCIDI4NDg0Nzc-" src="http://s3.moveon.org/swf/embed.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="360" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-632535413011792474?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/632535413011792474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=632535413011792474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/632535413011792474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/632535413011792474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2555344798702209642</id><published>2008-10-22T09:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T10:21:04.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>High Fidelity..</title><content type='html'>So I made the fatal mistake of watching High Fidelity lastnight, Its a movie that deals with John Cusack and this Finnish looking gal and their break up. Apparently I have forgotten that not only is this movie really funny but its also has a lot of elements that hit home. The part where he's lying in bed and he can't sleep because his mind is racing...needless to say I had to turn it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I think I could do a Top 5 of my memorable break up..&lt;br /&gt;5. Kelly circa 7th grade-It was my first break up and I thought as any dumb kid that we'd be together forever.&lt;br /&gt;4.Lisa circa 1st yr at AU- This was the first time I broke up with a girl, I hated it, I felt soo horrible, I actually broke up with her twice..I hated seeing her cry.&lt;br /&gt;3.Michele-circa 2001- Fell for this cute east coast west coast gal...but we were too different at the end, hurt like hell and I went on a destructive path of careless behavior..but at least she was honest.&lt;br /&gt;2.Holly circa 2002- I was in no way looking for a girlfriend but this beautiful blonde stole my heart, as hard as I tried not to fall she made it harder not to fall in love. She broke my heart like no other. I had to move and start a new life...&lt;br /&gt;which leads me to number 1, yeah she makes an appearance again..&lt;br /&gt;1. Holly circa 2004-2008..I left her behind or so I thought and then I get this call..She shook me up and by the middle of 2005 we were back..things were going great and then she left and went back home, didn't come back and we stayed together, perhaps it was mistake but if a girl like her can make me move she could certainly make me try to work out a long distance relationship.. the result at the end lead to most of the past 3 months worth of blog entries. If I thought she broke my heart before I had no clue of what was in store for the encore....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my top 5....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2555344798702209642?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2555344798702209642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2555344798702209642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2555344798702209642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2555344798702209642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/high-fidelity.html' title='High Fidelity..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3017345214071278020</id><published>2008-10-21T09:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T12:33:30.792-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Better Days'/><title type='text'>People notice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SP3qbgTRppI/AAAAAAAAAOI/vbL-rs9hkcY/s1600-h/1012081758.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259617698086758034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SP3qbgTRppI/AAAAAAAAAOI/vbL-rs9hkcY/s320/1012081758.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought no one would notice..seeing how I'm the one who's always noticing..Its spilling over at work. My boss just asked me if I was ok! She said that I'm quieter than normal... ugh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to some mellow music lately to see if I can calm my demons if you will..Joshua Radin, Ray LaMontagne, Jack Savoretti, Jesse McCarthy, oops did I say Jesse McCarthy! ha ha ok I like that song he's got right now, I'm a sucker for pop music!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how many loves songs there are out there? Alot, and I like alot of them..love songs are no fun when you're heart is mangled. Its interesting when I found a lot of my old poems when I was at home..they dealt with a lot of heartache, want, disappointment... I don't know if I'm attracted to women that haven't found out who they are or I'm just too accepting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it comes to love I don't think I have much common sense ..I give and give but I forget to ask back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a song I've been hearing alot in my ipod.. Amos Lee&lt;br /&gt;Better Days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The darkness has always been,&lt;br /&gt;The world was born into a blanket of sin,&lt;br /&gt;When all the faith's been gone,&lt;br /&gt;Still we found a reason to carry on,&lt;br /&gt;Through the worry, worry, worry,&lt;br /&gt;Caught in an endless maze&lt;br /&gt;Oh when the lights go out,&lt;br /&gt;All i can think about,&lt;br /&gt;Is how, we've seen better days...&lt;br /&gt;Oh lover lately i've been thinkin i might leave you,&lt;br /&gt;As you're surrounded by these fools who do deceive you,&lt;br /&gt;Yes our past is wretched true,&lt;br /&gt;But i'm still in love with you,&lt;br /&gt;That's why i am still refusin to give in to&lt;br /&gt;All this worry, worry, worry&lt;br /&gt;Caught in an endless maze,&lt;br /&gt;But when the lights go out,&lt;br /&gt;All i can think about,&lt;br /&gt;Is how, we've seen better days&lt;br /&gt;Where do we go from here,&lt;br /&gt;While we're all so consumed by fear,&lt;br /&gt;Why im trying not to be suspicious of those im suspicious of,&lt;br /&gt;I'm tryin to crack open this angry heart and find a little love,&lt;br /&gt;Still i worry, worry, worry,&lt;br /&gt;Caught in an endless maze,&lt;br /&gt;Still when the lights go out,&lt;br /&gt;All that i can think about is how we've seen better days,&lt;br /&gt;Oh when the lights go out,&lt;br /&gt;All i can dream about,&lt;br /&gt;Is how, we've seen better days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6N3UvdTcvM"&gt;listen here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3017345214071278020?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3017345214071278020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3017345214071278020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3017345214071278020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3017345214071278020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/people-notice.html' title='People notice'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SP3qbgTRppI/AAAAAAAAAOI/vbL-rs9hkcY/s72-c/1012081758.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-864761810228918910</id><published>2008-10-19T16:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T16:57:02.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I apparently have lost the taste for watching sports?</title><content type='html'>I feel a bit anxious sitting in a place where I'm suppose to be watching something instead of talking. The act of conversation is something that is really appealing to me. I like talking to people, I feel like I can talk to anyone, well almost anyone.  I went to a therapist this past week and to be honest with you I don't like it, I don't like how the act of it has really become a commodity. A stranger basically told me that there was a treatment plan that she hoped to develop for me? What? Seriously I don't think I'm capable of following something like that because I don't follow others, I walk to my own beat, I go against grain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks, I'm my worst enemy right now. I know it, I feel it, but its how it is. I know there are parallels that people can draw from to relate to me. Its just whether I can do it, it whether I want to do it. I don't like pain and this fucking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;awkwardness&lt;/span&gt; that I feel right now, the loneliness is just eating at me. The questions about why I'm not married  or whatever you wanna call it...I hate it, I hate that I have to explain that its not by my damn choice that I'm not married, that i don't have someone to go home to. I invested in myself as much as humanly possible and then they quickly say "aw, it wasn't meant to be, you'll find someone..." Yeah I know.........you'll know when..damn it I knew, I knew..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-864761810228918910?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/864761810228918910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=864761810228918910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/864761810228918910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/864761810228918910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-apparently-have-lost-taste-for.html' title='I apparently have lost the taste for watching sports?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6038622852154333188</id><published>2008-10-14T10:12:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T15:23:32.097-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPSwUOFjSNI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-hPxYlFYKcw/s1600-h/1012081726_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257020526473464018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" height="320" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPSwUOFjSNI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-hPxYlFYKcw/s320/1012081726_0001.jpg" width="295" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment that I left&lt;br /&gt;Everything had changed&lt;br /&gt;Now I lay awake in my empty room&lt;br /&gt;In my head it all feels the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the taste of the day I left&lt;br /&gt;That still lingers on my breath&lt;br /&gt;And the dampness of tears that left&lt;br /&gt;A stain where I had wept&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All alone with a diamond ring&lt;br /&gt;That still sits next to my bed&lt;br /&gt;I keep meaning to toss it away&lt;br /&gt;But I just leave it there instead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No need to cry about it&lt;br /&gt;I'll move on without it&lt;br /&gt;Every time I wind up out your door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you do this to me?&lt;br /&gt;You cut right through me&lt;br /&gt;Every time I wind up out your door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 1 more day 'til I saw your face&lt;br /&gt;so nervous, so anxious, couldn't keep up the pace&lt;br /&gt;cleaned the house and made up the bed&lt;br /&gt;Dialed your number but all got was a busy tone instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never took you for granted&lt;br /&gt;You’re were my reason for living&lt;br /&gt;there’s no way I was giving up,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't think I would cry about it&lt;br /&gt;I'll move on without you&lt;br /&gt;Seems like every time I wind up out your door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did you do this to me?&lt;br /&gt;You fucking lied to me&lt;br /&gt;Every time I wind up back on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now every night is a bitter fight&lt;br /&gt;And I’m eating home alone on a Thursday night&lt;br /&gt;I wasted my good love and time&lt;br /&gt;I will never let you conquer my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't cry about it&lt;br /&gt;I'll be better without it&lt;br /&gt;In time you'll start to regret it&lt;br /&gt;and when you call you'll hear me say "learn how to live with it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll stroll around and smile like nothing is wrong&lt;br /&gt;You'll lie to those who love you&lt;br /&gt;But the lies you tell will catch up to you, it won't be long&lt;br /&gt;You can makes excuses but it wasn't me this was all you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna live my life, won't let another barley slip through my fingers&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy yours, lesson plans, one night stands, new friends, pot and beer cans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a bitch and apparently I loved one too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6038622852154333188?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6038622852154333188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6038622852154333188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6038622852154333188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6038622852154333188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/from-moment-that-i-left-everything-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPSwUOFjSNI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-hPxYlFYKcw/s72-c/1012081726_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3720432767916347438</id><published>2008-10-13T11:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T11:35:04.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trippin over trips</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPNkPhEeeTI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ddMxyrkDvFY/s1600-h/n531648041_903332_4943.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256655407809460530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPNkPhEeeTI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ddMxyrkDvFY/s320/n531648041_903332_4943.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a great time seeing my family this weekend, it was much needed and long over due. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't tell you how excited and curious I was when I arrived in Grand Rapids &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; night..4 yrs is a long time to be away. Friday morning I just drove around, I went to my old Academy and was surprised by the changes, I went by old coffee shops I use to go to write my sappy poems, I visited my high school and was asked If I need a attendance pass like I still went to school there? That was actually sorta of funny..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alex found me at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble and we hung out till Mom got out of work. It was really sneaky of us, Alex picked her up from work and I followed incognito in my rental. A couple of times I thought that she had seen me. So anyways we get to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; and Alex and Mom go inside...I tried calling her to wish her happy birthday ( which was a day later and not on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; like I thought! oops) anyways I got right next to her and I said something like hey stranger or something totally awesome. She was really happy to see me..it was really nice to know that I made her day by just coming up to see her. So I just hung out with my ladies this weekend, mom found some old pics and poems..stuff from like the summer of 04..which I probably should of kept but it was hard to read them...I feel it now but 10 times more than back then.  I guess I thought I could fly to places and just have this be something I left behind me, on the way home.. I realized that its still on the surface, very real and very strong. I got one more trip planned..in two week back to Michigan for Alex's wedding, that will be very hard on me for many reasons... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyways..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3720432767916347438?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3720432767916347438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3720432767916347438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3720432767916347438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3720432767916347438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/trippin-over-trips.html' title='Trippin over trips'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SPNkPhEeeTI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ddMxyrkDvFY/s72-c/n531648041_903332_4943.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8683231895868786353</id><published>2008-10-09T11:58:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T13:45:35.754-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SO4tUreg7HI/AAAAAAAAANw/-YvLQrKZmtI/s1600-h/1008081902.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255187648479292530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="240" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SO4tUreg7HI/AAAAAAAAANw/-YvLQrKZmtI/s320/1008081902.jpg" width="247" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colliding with the past when you're trying to live in the now can be a tricky thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took this picture of me yesterday...what I find interesting is that I was trying to smile..I think I took the picture like 3 times until I finally said screw it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time. - &lt;a href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/38640.html"&gt;George Bernard Shaw&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really get it? What are you exactly are you trying to say? I mean to be honest sometimes I like Chinese fortune cookies better. I carry this one in my wallet..I got it while I was eating at Pei Wei like a month ago.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;" A lifetime of happiness lies ahead of you." Author Charlie the chimp..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but nonetheless I like it, I get it, and I'm looking forward to it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah...Que Vida! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8683231895868786353?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8683231895868786353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8683231895868786353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8683231895868786353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8683231895868786353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/colliding-with-past-when-youre-trying.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SO4tUreg7HI/AAAAAAAAANw/-YvLQrKZmtI/s72-c/1008081902.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-1903849493391420087</id><published>2008-10-08T16:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:35:59.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who wants a bread maker?</title><content type='html'>I'm selling a bread maker for pretty cheap..its been used twice..? if you're interested leave a comment or email me..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-1903849493391420087?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/1903849493391420087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=1903849493391420087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1903849493391420087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/1903849493391420087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/who-wants-bread-maker.html' title='Who wants a bread maker?'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-434679062015637089</id><published>2008-10-07T09:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T10:49:31.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>short lived beard</title><content type='html'>Since the cubs got swept from the playoff's I guess it would be kind of ridiculous to still sport the rally beard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a very hard couple of months for me, I've never been under as much stress as I have this summer. The holidays aren't going to be easier but just a brutal reminder. Having to tell myself to let go and actually telling her has been overwhelming. I know that I'm not ready but I know that I'd never be ready, my mental health is falling apart... I'm tired of feeling sad and I'm tired of thinking about how everything went to shit.&lt;br /&gt;I know I should be mad, that I should have a ton of anger inside of me and I do fight the urge to punch a hole in the wall but more than that I just feel incredibly sad. That sadness is killing me, I can't lie to myself...its really hard to think about anything else. I've been keeping myself busy but come on, this is bigger than just a little break up..I lost more than just girlfriend, she was my best friend, my family, and I can't help but hurt. It hit me Sunday that I had to let go, that I can't try to be there for her or be the same person with her anymore because I'm going to lose myself if I keep on doing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;normalcy..that's the state of being normal or regular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can anything be normal or regular after this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a waste...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-434679062015637089?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/434679062015637089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=434679062015637089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/434679062015637089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/434679062015637089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/short-lived-beard.html' title='short lived beard'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8222610754203041263</id><published>2008-10-03T11:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T14:17:27.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4 dudes and a microphone..</title><content type='html'>I can't say that I share the mic all that much maybe its the enamorous need to be the center of attention..I kid, I actually shy away from that type attention. Heck I still don't know what to do when someone pays me a compliment on my insatiable taste for shoes, or my growing collection of hats (that I'm now straying away from ball caps and venturing into the more grown up cabby hats). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I decided to grow a beard for the baseball playoff run...if the cubs don't win the world series I guess I'll be wearing a beard for a while..or till my job says to shave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways this is a blah post and I'm sorta of not in the mood to write anymore..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8222610754203041263?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8222610754203041263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8222610754203041263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8222610754203041263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8222610754203041263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/10/4-dudes-and-microphone.html' title='4 dudes and a microphone..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-7777949113620591891</id><published>2008-09-30T11:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T12:03:05.544-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Being heard</title><content type='html'>Jared made a good point this past weekend.&lt;br /&gt;" How is that I find women that take everything from me and then leave me with nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to love any other way, I took a big big risk by letting Holly back into my life 2 1/2 yrs ago, ignoring the advice of many of my friends but I did it because I loved her soo much that I would take that chance, that I would gamble my heart again. When we were together it was great, it was right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could of been just a whatever kind of guy and not really gave it my all when it was hard but the way my heart pounds when I see her and how my skin tingles when she touches me. Why wouldn't I give my all, if you risk everything you can lose everything but you can also win everything. I wasn't scared of not asking her to marry me, I was scared of not asking her to marry me. No one can say that I didn't give it my all, that I didn't do everything I could do. I wouldn't do any other way even now when I can't tell which way is up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps in the last post I was too harsh in that I wish I never met her, I don't mean any of that...&lt;br /&gt;This has been the big disappointment of my life because she is the love of my life.  The scope of my pain is the measurement of how much she meant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to remember that It wasn't just up to me..you can't give your life to someone that doesn't know what they want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-7777949113620591891?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/7777949113620591891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=7777949113620591891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7777949113620591891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/7777949113620591891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/09/being-heard.html' title='Being heard'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6384350449156364822</id><published>2008-09-05T00:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T00:01:59.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If I don't say this now I will surely break&lt;br /&gt;As I'm leaving the one I want to take&lt;br /&gt;Forgive the urgency but hurry up and wait&lt;br /&gt;My heart has started to separate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh,&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;I'll look after you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There now, steady love, so few come and don't go&lt;br /&gt;Will you won't you, be the one I'll always know&lt;br /&gt;When I'm losing my control, the city spins around&lt;br /&gt;You're the only one who knows, you slow it down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my Baby&lt;br /&gt;I'll look after you&lt;br /&gt;And I'll look after you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If ever there was a doubt&lt;br /&gt;My love she leans into me&lt;br /&gt;This most assuredly counts&lt;br /&gt;She says most assuredly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;I'll look after you&lt;br /&gt;After You&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always have and never hold&lt;br /&gt;You've begun to feel like home&lt;br /&gt;What's mine is yours to leave or take&lt;br /&gt;What's mine is yours to make your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Be my baby&lt;br /&gt;I'll look after you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so beautiful to me&lt;br /&gt;~ The fray&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6384350449156364822?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6384350449156364822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6384350449156364822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6384350449156364822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6384350449156364822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-i-dont-say-this-now-i-will-surely.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5743770447391023038</id><published>2008-09-03T15:05:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T16:32:39.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sitting here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SL7xDynDJAI/AAAAAAAAANU/jE3qoG9dlGk/s1600-h/0901082001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241892063733294082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SL7xDynDJAI/AAAAAAAAANU/jE3qoG9dlGk/s320/0901082001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know where to turn or where to go, I'm living in a nightmare, I just don't know when I get to wake up so It can end. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The disappointment I have in my heart is soo heavy that I feel like I'm climbing  6 feet out of the ground because I feel like a piece of me died. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We, I say we because I know she's felt this way too; we've struggled and have been frustrated and tired. All I want to do is be with her, I just want to be with her. Nothing else matters, we've let so much time past I've been ready for it for some time now. I put everything on the line this past weekend..I took a trip with no certain outcome...what do you when you love someone, you fight for them..I'm strong but I don't know how many times I can get up after taking blow after blow.. Leaving her has never been soooo hard, I contemplating just staying, just never coming back..I love my friends but they're not my life,they'll be my friends till I die but I'm talking about the love of my life,the woman I want to grow old with, have kids with...how can I just let it slip away, my whole heart is with her. She's my family, she my lady, she's my best friend. Yes I'm mad and yes I'm frustrated but most of all I'm just sad...I'm just sad. I don't want to feel like this anymore..seeing her was wonderful but having her right in front of me and then having too leave, there's no words to describe it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think regardless of what happens I'm leaving the States, for as much as it gives its also taken from me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5743770447391023038?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5743770447391023038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5743770447391023038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5743770447391023038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5743770447391023038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/09/sitting-here.html' title='Sitting here'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SL7xDynDJAI/AAAAAAAAANU/jE3qoG9dlGk/s72-c/0901082001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2599349535209021378</id><published>2008-08-25T13:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T14:25:49.538-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My stache</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SLL5GBgyBlI/AAAAAAAAANM/0bdfxTJ3EaM/s1600-h/0822081723.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238523198465771090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SLL5GBgyBlI/AAAAAAAAANM/0bdfxTJ3EaM/s320/0822081723.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to make fun of myself by well growing a mustache..I'm very capable of doing this because I have to shave right after I shave...so anyways I attempted to make the stache stick..this is me friday afternoon...I went out looking like this.....it lasted one night. I woke up and the thing was changing my personality. I was having cravings for denim shorts, trucker hats, and need to drink milk...odd, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2599349535209021378?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2599349535209021378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2599349535209021378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2599349535209021378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2599349535209021378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-stache.html' title='My stache'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SLL5GBgyBlI/AAAAAAAAANM/0bdfxTJ3EaM/s72-c/0822081723.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8948995104909714995</id><published>2008-08-08T13:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T13:49:38.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SJyHKb1BpzI/AAAAAAAAANE/Md4xNifiZQQ/s1600-h/l_1ceba8dcc561bb447f822420187c7c96.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232205480436279090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SJyHKb1BpzI/AAAAAAAAANE/Md4xNifiZQQ/s320/l_1ceba8dcc561bb447f822420187c7c96.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heard your voice the other day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;worked hard to choke away the tears..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There I listen in the stillness of my gray sky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking there's nothing here to hold me now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;tried to let go and all that came were tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Could you grant me a wish, just one wish, just one more kiss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;kiss me, let me hold you till the nightlight meets day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is there a way to play make believe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, there ain't nothing I can do but I'll play the fool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dream on with me like I do with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the night is closing in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Baby just love me all the way this time&lt;br /&gt;Whisper truth, tell me sweet things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;forget the troubles, I know who you are, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though we're covered in veils of mystery,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;your lips erase my misery.&lt;br /&gt;In you I've found my treasure &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filled my head full of pefect dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't you see,I'm putting down all my walls, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;just take me, take all of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the night is here&lt;br /&gt;Baby lets go all the way this time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you love me all the way this time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heard your voice the other day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;choked on my tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I sat still under the dark gray sky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8948995104909714995?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8948995104909714995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8948995104909714995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8948995104909714995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8948995104909714995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/08/heard-your-voice-other-day-worked-hard.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SJyHKb1BpzI/AAAAAAAAANE/Md4xNifiZQQ/s72-c/l_1ceba8dcc561bb447f822420187c7c96.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5890533588302628156</id><published>2008-08-08T13:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T13:12:25.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pain shoots through my hands&lt;br /&gt;These long lonely nights&lt;br /&gt;Are making me crazy&lt;br /&gt;Morning won't come fast enough&lt;br /&gt;Just a face in the Crowd as I let them pass me by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith gone from your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Each word leaves as fast as it came&lt;br /&gt;You're leaving me further away&lt;br /&gt;so when that day comes&lt;br /&gt;I've got no easy way to cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I think of you leave&lt;br /&gt; I'm trapped inside, glued to my chair.&lt;br /&gt;everywhere I go I find you&lt;br /&gt;everything connects you to my mind&lt;br /&gt;How right it all should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5890533588302628156?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5890533588302628156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5890533588302628156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5890533588302628156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5890533588302628156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/08/pain-shoots-through-my-hands-these-long.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-5355405619143250310</id><published>2008-08-07T16:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T16:40:35.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I expected something more, I wanted soo much more.&lt;br /&gt;every time I got close I was left so far, so far behind.&lt;br /&gt;If that's what this is about, this thing that we're in&lt;br /&gt;then I'm ready, I'm willing, I'm for your war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you expect that I'll wither away like flowers on your wall&lt;br /&gt;then perhaps you should rethink you're approach, I'm not leaving and I'm not going to fall.&lt;br /&gt;I'm pushing away thoughts and fighting back tears&lt;br /&gt;because I'm soo close to losing everything that we've gained in the past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For as far as you might be, the distance, the time, I can feel you in my heart, you reside there&lt;br /&gt;You've never left,&lt;br /&gt;when I sleep, I sleep thinking of you,&lt;br /&gt;when I dream, I dream of about being with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be next to you.&lt;br /&gt;I need to be next to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-5355405619143250310?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/5355405619143250310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=5355405619143250310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5355405619143250310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/5355405619143250310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-expected-something-more-i-wanted-soo.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2166489699021244180</id><published>2008-07-28T12:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T12:28:57.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SI3zrSJdqtI/AAAAAAAAAM8/xjyur_fFsjQ/s1600-h/0411081945.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228102667378469586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SI3zrSJdqtI/AAAAAAAAAM8/xjyur_fFsjQ/s320/0411081945.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sitting on the bed enduring your punch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;can’t pay attention to the sound of anyone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;a little more numb, a little more scared&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;every minute more unprepared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt my heart break today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;everything I loved got swept in tears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to start over, I want to be winning, smiling, being next to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm way out of sync from the beginning, way to far from where we began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanna hurry home to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;put my arms around you, be slow, do a show for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and crack you up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking for somewhere to stand and stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I get a minute of not being nervous&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and not thinking of being sick&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My legs are heavy, my legs are pins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I liked to be honest, I'm losing my shit, I wish I was better but I can't help but feel it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanna hurry home to you, put my arms around you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;be slow, do a show for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and crack you up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know I dreamed about you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;for twenty-nine years before I saw you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know I dreamed about you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I missed you for twenty-nine years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know I dreamed about you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;for twenty-nine years before I saw you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know I dreamed about you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I missed you for twenty-nine years&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2166489699021244180?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2166489699021244180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2166489699021244180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2166489699021244180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2166489699021244180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/07/sitting-on-bed-enduring-your-punch-cant.html' title=''/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SI3zrSJdqtI/AAAAAAAAAM8/xjyur_fFsjQ/s72-c/0411081945.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-6280317558690341516</id><published>2008-07-11T16:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T16:50:38.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big day for phone lovers around the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SHfHbT8c1mI/AAAAAAAAAM0/qR1fj4kmOKk/s1600-h/0624081905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221861564983596642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SHfHbT8c1mI/AAAAAAAAAM0/qR1fj4kmOKk/s320/0624081905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, lucky enough to stand in line to pick up the new 3G &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Iphone&lt;/span&gt; today well I applaud you for taking that dive into technology heaven. Apparently you'll be able to control your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Itunes&lt;/span&gt; on your computer from your phone like a remote control..here a link to the demo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gizmodo.com/5024327/this-is-what-it-looks-like-when-the-video-camera-in-your-hand-gets-struck-by-lightning"&gt;this is what happens when you trying leaving Verizon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; the wrong clip, this is the one I think you should check out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gizmodo.com/5023755/first-itunes-remote-app-for-iphone-hands+on"&gt;remote&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah after seeing that and all the hoopla I'm a bit on edge, I really need my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Iphone&lt;/span&gt; Fix, so if anyone wants to sell me their old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Iphones&lt;/span&gt;, yeah..I'm up for it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I passed a cell phone store this morning on the way to work but no one was waiting outside for the Iphone there, I don't know maybe it was the sign that turned them off, ha ha..get it..have a great weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-6280317558690341516?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/6280317558690341516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=6280317558690341516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6280317558690341516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/6280317558690341516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-day-for-phone-lovers-around-world.html' title='Big day for phone lovers around the world'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SHfHbT8c1mI/AAAAAAAAAM0/qR1fj4kmOKk/s72-c/0624081905.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-3212847342640681639</id><published>2008-07-07T14:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T12:13:56.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Doodle of words..</title><content type='html'>How do you say goodbye to someone you can't imagine living without...&lt;br /&gt;when words won't suffice to express how your life will be a void..&lt;br /&gt;Oh to save our time together, I'd place it in a time capsule for others to find&lt;br /&gt;so that people could know what It means to be in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, I thought I was great..No thing, no one could bind me&lt;br /&gt;but then you came along and my sun rised and set with you.&lt;br /&gt;My armor melted down and your lovely grace left me standing in place.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was living but I'd been sleepin until you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you say goodbye to someone you can't imagine living without?&lt;br /&gt;I would miss your face, the smell of your skin and the sound of your dear voice.&lt;br /&gt;You terrorized me with your perfect lips, from them I heard love and lust&lt;br /&gt;from them i ate love and from this they feed off this mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now, as I sit here drenched in the summer rain waiting for you I can't walk away..&lt;br /&gt;you were the longest journey I've had but its been worth it if you're waiting at the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-3212847342640681639?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/3212847342640681639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=3212847342640681639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3212847342640681639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/3212847342640681639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/07/doodle-of-words.html' title='Doodle of words..'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-2828499092298382231</id><published>2008-06-30T15:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T15:39:59.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes timing has everything to do with it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SGkzbhn_6gI/AAAAAAAAAMs/cnmPeH-sABo/s1600-h/0530081142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217758191261051394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SGkzbhn_6gI/AAAAAAAAAMs/cnmPeH-sABo/s320/0530081142.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't know what it is about taking pictures of things that don't really fit or that some how are out of place. This was taken outside of a Firstwatch, I love Firstwatch and apparently so does this small patron that was coming in for his usual, the Floridian French Toast, he was told to make sure to pay his tab before he left. He responded by saying " Just put it on my Bill"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA, HA..yeah I know its corny...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-2828499092298382231?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/2828499092298382231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=2828499092298382231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2828499092298382231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/2828499092298382231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/06/sometimes-timing-has-everything-to-do.html' title='Sometimes timing has everything to do with it.'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SGkzbhn_6gI/AAAAAAAAAMs/cnmPeH-sABo/s72-c/0530081142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19637877.post-8520618771022194496</id><published>2008-06-09T12:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T12:18:12.977-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Its just a name!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SE1XuDPRNPI/AAAAAAAAAMc/rIfmKtgH-zU/s1600-h/0607082341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209916792592479474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SE1XuDPRNPI/AAAAAAAAAMc/rIfmKtgH-zU/s320/0607082341.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So a few of us ( Me,Bakes, Tical, and Justin) went to Vampire Weekend. There was a ticket available for this activity but every time they asked for the name of the concert they made this weird face like" Gross, how you could go to a vampire weekend!?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, you all missed out, Erin and Kristy from PR's! Losers....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah we get there and Club Firestone isn't gritty and cave like, I've been all wrong about that place...the show, because it was a show was great!! For those that don't like live concerts its crucial that you listen to all the songs of the band you're going to go, when you know the words or at least know a little bit of the words makes a huge difference! That's all I'm saying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another thing I found out this weekend is that women are as crazy and evil as men are. There isn't a difference between what a man will do and what a women would do. You can't say that "a woman would never do that" because you know what, there's nothing that a women is incapable of doing! I'll leave it at that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH, i do give a freak about an Oxford Comma. I might of misued it in this post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19637877-8520618771022194496?l=atable41please.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/feeds/8520618771022194496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19637877&amp;postID=8520618771022194496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8520618771022194496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19637877/posts/default/8520618771022194496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atable41please.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-just-name.html' title='Its just a name!'/><author><name>Les</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12730985378842122894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/39/116855461_e9ca4fa403.jpg?v=0'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3LRtwc3UZIM/SE1XuDPRNPI/AAAAAAAAAMc/rIfmKtgH-zU/s72-c/0607082341.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
