<?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-11143109</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:06:51.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>535i</title><subtitle type='html'>I may not be there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111526160093483430</id><published>2005-05-04T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T19:53:20.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nine Inch Nails - Right Where It Belongs</title><content type='html'>see the animal in his cage that you built,&lt;br /&gt;are you sure what side you’re on?&lt;br /&gt;better not look him too closely in the eye&lt;br /&gt;are you sure what side of the glass you are on?&lt;br /&gt;see the safety of the life you have built&lt;br /&gt;everything where it belongs&lt;br /&gt;feel the hollowness inside of your heart&lt;br /&gt;and it’s all right where it belongs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if everything around you&lt;br /&gt;isn’t quite as it seems?&lt;br /&gt;what if all the world you think you know&lt;br /&gt;is an elaborate dream?&lt;br /&gt;if you look at your reflection&lt;br /&gt;is that all you want to be?&lt;br /&gt;what if you could look right through the cracks?&lt;br /&gt;would you find yourself&lt;br /&gt;find yourself afraid to see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what of all the world’s inside of your head&lt;br /&gt;just creations of your own?&lt;br /&gt;your devils and your guns all the living and the dead&lt;br /&gt;and you’re really all alone&lt;br /&gt;you can live in this illusion&lt;br /&gt;you can choose to believe&lt;br /&gt;you keep looking but you can’t find the woods&lt;br /&gt;are you hiding in the trees?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if everything around you&lt;br /&gt;isn’t quite as it seems?&lt;br /&gt;what if all world you used to know&lt;br /&gt;is an elaborate dream?&lt;br /&gt;if you look at your reflection&lt;br /&gt;is that all you want to be?&lt;br /&gt;what if you could look right through the cracks?&lt;br /&gt;would you find yourself&lt;br /&gt;find yourself afraid to see?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111526160093483430?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111526160093483430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111526160093483430' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111526160093483430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111526160093483430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/05/nine-inch-nails-right-where-it-belongs.html' title='Nine Inch Nails - Right Where It Belongs'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111447629843851663</id><published>2005-04-25T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T17:44:58.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus seen floating on iceberg</title><content type='html'>In a recent turn of events, Jesus H. Christ has taken it upon himself to protest the Lithu-Icelandic war by laying on an iceberg headed towards Iceland. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many college students have tried to follow in his foot steps but drowned in a matter of moments. The remaing college students protested the ocean, saying that it was not giving them their right to peaceful protest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vatican claims this to be a sign of the end. Taking advantage of the opportunity, the Pope has issued 'Straight-to-Heaven' pass that can be purchased for $500, with discount group rates. So far, the Vatican has sold 10 millions passes, to Bill Gates alone. Willy then proceeded to give them to the athiast children in some poor ass country whose name we cannot spell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Icelandic communists have not backed down on their promise to spork the lithuanians to death. They just haven't found the cheapest rates on cheaptickets.com yet. When one member of the party suggested expedia he was instantly sporked to death and roled down the street to have an example made of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When reached for comment the communist leader had only this to say, "I'm a communist, this Jesus you speak of means nothing to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lithuanians still can not be reached for comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus had this to say, "I'm not protesting anything damn it! I just wanted to take a walk, and I got tired, what the fuck? Does everything I do have to be profound?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lack of food has obviously put him in a state of disorientation. Jesus will soon realize that he is in fact protesting the war, whether he likes it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When told the above, Jesus had this to say in retaliation, "I'm not some pansy ass PETA nerd you fuck face, come here bitch, let me teach you a lesson!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;This story is in memory of Robert Hangleflange who died while reporting this story after being blugeoned to death with a spork by Jesus Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111447629843851663?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111447629843851663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111447629843851663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447629843851663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447629843851663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/jesus-seen-floating-on-iceberg.html' title='Jesus seen floating on iceberg'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111447524549184011</id><published>2005-04-25T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T17:27:25.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aliens invade Baltimore, No one notices</title><content type='html'>Under the cover of rain, aliens have invaded Baltimore. Sadly, as the title suggests, no one has noticed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked to comment this Baltimoron said, "I blame Martin O'Malley." And another had this to say, "Good, maybe they'll cut muh grass mo better than tha otha aliens."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Police Commisioner was replaced at once for not anticipating the invasion. The new commisioner said he will focus on the complete opposite subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the aliens have set up shop in Fells Point where they seem to fit in most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resident alien, Quanisha had this to say "I ain't no damn alien you muthafucka, get tha fuck out my face 'fore I call da po po on yo ass bitch."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111447524549184011?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111447524549184011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111447524549184011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447524549184011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447524549184011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/aliens-invade-baltimore-no-one-notices.html' title='Aliens invade Baltimore, No one notices'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111447421300188909</id><published>2005-04-25T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T17:10:13.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Iceland declares war on Lithuania</title><content type='html'>In other news...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two insignificant countries, Iceland and Lithuania, have delared war on each other. In a surprise move by the Iclandic communists sect, they overthrew the parlaiment by threatening to spork the opposition to death. Iceland, a primarily peaceful country, does not have an organized military to fight off potential coups, or enemies for that matter, so the communists took over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the ego-boost given to the communists they set their sporking eyes on Lithuania. When asked why Lithuania the communist leader Ingrad Marx had this to say, "That's where the dart landed." The dart-method could be considered rather brash, but that is only until one realizes that American President George W. Bush did the same thing. The only problem was that Bush drew his own map of the world and mislabled all of asia 'Iraq.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, the communists plan to go to cheaptickets.com to launch their invasion on Lithuania. Their spork toting military is in the process of obtaining passports and samsonite luggage. In a matter of days the Icelandic communists will be landing at Heathrow, and then some non-descript place in Lithuania, sporking innocent women and children to death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When contacted, the only person in Lithuania with a telephone had this to say about the impending war, "Thank you for calling hot sex live, you're Lithuanian sucubus will be on the phone in 30 minutes..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Russians used their veto-in-advance power to knock down any potential resolution banning sporks in europe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will only be a matter of days before we see what will become of these two countries no one even knows exists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111447421300188909?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111447421300188909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111447421300188909' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447421300188909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447421300188909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/iceland-declares-war-on-lithuania.html' title='Iceland declares war on Lithuania'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111447314310689682</id><published>2005-04-25T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T16:54:03.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vatican bombs Greenland</title><content type='html'>Talk about false advertising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, so as I was saying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait I wasn't saying anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well let me just pull an update out of my ass right-quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right when you think I might be out of debt, I go and spend more money. This time it's a car. The BMW POS 535i is gone and has been replaced by a Black Cherry Pearl 05 Scion tC. It's a very nice car and I don't think it will be unique for long, but hey, I like it anyway. My cat who likes to destroy everything nice has already scratched it up, but that's nothing GS-27 can't remove. Screw the TV shit, I'll just go to wal-mart, same shit quality, just cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making progress at work, I actually know how to do some things on my own, and I've helped out my co-workers once or twice. Today was a good day, I got to show my skills for once. At least I had the confidence to speak up when everyone else was puzzled. I think that is supposed to be a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother's computer has caught a mystery virus... The computer is acting very strange, I'm working on it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaime was gone for awhile, I was sad, now she's back, and I am glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's about it for an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;Microphone Fiend - RATM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo, I was a fiend before I became a teen&lt;br /&gt;I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated&lt;br /&gt;Shot grabbed the mic and try to say, yes y’all!&lt;br /&gt;They tried to take it, and say that I’m too small&lt;br /&gt;Cool, ’cause I don’t get upset&lt;br /&gt;I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet&lt;br /&gt;Back to the lab ...without a mic to grab&lt;br /&gt;So then I add all the rhymes I had&lt;br /&gt;One after the another one, then I make another one&lt;br /&gt;To dis the opposite then ask if the brother’s done&lt;br /&gt;I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t need a cigarette, know what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;I’m raging, ripping up the stage and&lt;br /&gt;Don’t it sound amazing ’cause every rhyme is made and&lt;br /&gt;Thought of, cuz it’s sort of...an addiction,&lt;br /&gt;Magnatized by the mixing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;E-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to the problem, I gotta habit,&lt;br /&gt;You can’t solve it, you silly rabbit&lt;br /&gt;The prescription is a hypertone that’s thorough when&lt;br /&gt;I fiend for a microphone like heroin&lt;br /&gt;Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix&lt;br /&gt;Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll put you in a mood or is it a state of&lt;br /&gt;Unawareness? beware, it’s the reanamator!&lt;br /&gt;A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon&lt;br /&gt;An assasinator, if the people ain’t stepping&lt;br /&gt;You see a part of me that you never seen&lt;br /&gt;When I’m fiending for a microphone.&lt;br /&gt;Cause I take it to the maximum, I can’t relax see, i’m&lt;br /&gt;Hype as a hyperchrondriac ’cause the rap be one&lt;br /&gt;Hell of a antidote, something you can’t smoke&lt;br /&gt;More than dope, you’re trying to move away but you can’t, you’re broke&lt;br /&gt;More than cracked up, you should have backed up&lt;br /&gt;For those who act up need to be more than smacked up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated ...originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated ...complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated ...originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated ...complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated ...originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated ...complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated ...originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated ...complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated&lt;br /&gt;Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated&lt;br /&gt;Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;’cause I’m an e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;An e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;A smooth operator operating correctly&lt;br /&gt;’cause I’m an e-f-f-e-c-t&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111447314310689682?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111447314310689682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111447314310689682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447314310689682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111447314310689682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/vatican-bombs-greenland.html' title='Vatican bombs Greenland'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111274808926300226</id><published>2005-04-05T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T17:41:29.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really, really short update</title><content type='html'>-Old friends are over-rated&lt;br /&gt;-My new job is awesome&lt;br /&gt;-Taxes are confusing (I can't find my W2, if it was even given to me)&lt;br /&gt;-English class is a pain&lt;br /&gt;-Million dollar homes are cool, especially when your family owns one&lt;br /&gt;-Mountain Dew kills, and it is addictive (I need help) *takes another gulp*&lt;br /&gt;-Substitute teachers are like the gestapo&lt;br /&gt;-Car horns can be fun&lt;br /&gt;-911 can be fun too&lt;br /&gt;-Dump trucks with no tail lights are not...&lt;br /&gt;-Lo-Jack is cool&lt;br /&gt;-LA Car chases are too&lt;br /&gt;-Being paid 14.42 an hour to watch the chase is even cooler...&lt;br /&gt;-I'm lucky to have Jaime&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111274808926300226?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111274808926300226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111274808926300226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111274808926300226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111274808926300226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/really-really-short-update.html' title='Really, really short update'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111251909331427621</id><published>2005-04-02T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T01:04:53.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What time is it?</title><content type='html'>I got my new room set up, I might paint it with black light reactive paint, but other than that I'm good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prt a new system in it, and some new lights, including a black light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've stayed up way too late and my motor skills are showing it... I feel perfectly fine, but I can tell how much slower I am moving. When the sun comes up I'll be better, which shouldn't be too long now 'cause it is 5:03. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new sound system is awesome, the bass sounds so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might go see Sin City tomorrow, we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marilyn Manson - Tainted Love (Cover)&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel I've got to&lt;br /&gt;Run away I've got to&lt;br /&gt;Get away&lt;br /&gt;From the pain that you drive into the heart of me&lt;br /&gt;The love we share&lt;br /&gt;Seems to go nowhere&lt;br /&gt;I've lost my lights&lt;br /&gt;I toss and turn I can't sleep at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I ran to you (I ran)&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll run from you&lt;br /&gt;This tainted love you've given&lt;br /&gt;I give you all a boy could give you&lt;br /&gt;Take my tears and that's not nearly all&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know I've got to&lt;br /&gt;Run away I've got to&lt;br /&gt;Get away&lt;br /&gt;You don't really want any more from me&lt;br /&gt;To make things right&lt;br /&gt;You need someone to hold you tight&lt;br /&gt;You think love is to pray&lt;br /&gt;But I'm sorry I don't pray that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I ran to you (I ran)&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll run from you&lt;br /&gt;This tainted love you've given&lt;br /&gt;I give you all a boy could give you&lt;br /&gt;Take my tears and that's not nearly all&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't touch me please&lt;br /&gt;I cannot stand the way you tease&lt;br /&gt;I love you though you hurt me so&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to pack my things and go&lt;br /&gt;Touch me baby, tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Touch me baby, tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Touch me baby, tainted love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I ran to you (I ran)&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll run from you&lt;br /&gt;This tainted love you've given&lt;br /&gt;I give you all a boy could give you&lt;br /&gt;Take my tears and that's not nearly all&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;br /&gt;Tainted love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111251909331427621?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111251909331427621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111251909331427621' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111251909331427621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111251909331427621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-time-is-it.html' title='What time is it?'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111228378181119125</id><published>2005-03-31T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T07:43:01.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Spin Me Right Round Baby</title><content type='html'>I, don't wanna know your name&lt;br /&gt;And I, don't want your private number, baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that to me&lt;br /&gt;You look like you're lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;Open up your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;I want some, want some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set my sights on you (and no one else will do)&lt;br /&gt;And I (I, I, I), I've got to have my way now, baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that to me&lt;br /&gt;You look like you're lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;Open up your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;Watch out here I come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;You spin me right round, baby&lt;br /&gt;Right round like a record, baby&lt;br /&gt;Right round, round, round&lt;br /&gt;(x2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be your friend now, baby&lt;br /&gt;But I, I want to move in just a little bit closer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that to me&lt;br /&gt;You look like you're lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;Open up your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;Watch out here I come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus (x2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that to me&lt;br /&gt;You look like you're lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;Open up your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;Watch out here I come&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111228378181119125?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111228378181119125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111228378181119125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111228378181119125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111228378181119125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/you-spin-me-right-round-baby.html' title='You Spin Me Right Round Baby'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111223107179393150</id><published>2005-03-30T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T17:04:31.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smack the ho</title><content type='html'>My p i m p names, know 'em biotch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheik J. Clinton&lt;br /&gt;G. Digital J. Luthor&lt;br /&gt;Magic Tickle. J. Slick&lt;br /&gt;Fine Ass J. Kicks&lt;br /&gt;Funk Master J. Slim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From here on out you shall all refer to me as Funk Master J. Slim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now alls I need is some ho's... I'll go find some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.playerappreciate.com/pimphandle.asp"&gt;P I M P&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the skank ho's:&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.synthtopia.com/fun/namegen/index_Skank.html"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; Woke up quick at about noon&lt;br /&gt;Just thought that I had to be in Compton soon&lt;br /&gt;I gotta get drunk before the day begins&lt;br /&gt;Before my mother starts bitchin' about my friends&lt;br /&gt;About to go and damn near went blind&lt;br /&gt;Young niggaz on the block throwin' up gang signs&lt;br /&gt;I went in the house to get the clip&lt;br /&gt;With my Mac 10 on the side of my hip&lt;br /&gt;I bailed outside and I pointed my weapon&lt;br /&gt;Just as I thought the fools kept steppin'&lt;br /&gt;I jumped in the fo' hit the juice on my ride&lt;br /&gt;I got front and back, side to side&lt;br /&gt;Then I let the Alpine play&lt;br /&gt;I was bumpin new shit by NWA&lt;br /&gt;It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list&lt;br /&gt;Then I played my own shit, it went somethin' like this:&lt;br /&gt;Cruisin down the street in my six-fo'&lt;br /&gt;Jockin' the bitches, slappin the ho's&lt;br /&gt;I went to the park to get the scoop&lt;br /&gt;Knuckleheads out there cold shootin' some hoop&lt;br /&gt;A car pulls up, who can it be?&lt;br /&gt;A fresh El Camino rollin', Kilo G&lt;br /&gt;He rolls down the window and he starts to say&lt;br /&gt;It's all about makin that GTA&lt;br /&gt;Cuz the boyz n tha hood are always hard&lt;br /&gt;Come talkin that trash and we'll pull your card&lt;br /&gt;Knowin nothin' in life but to be legit&lt;br /&gt;Don't quote me boy, I ain't said shit&lt;br /&gt;Bored as hell and I wanna get ill&lt;br /&gt;So I go to a place where my homeboys chill&lt;br /&gt;Fellas out there, tryin to make that dollah&lt;br /&gt;I pulled up in the 6-4 Impala&lt;br /&gt;Greeted with a 40 and I start drinkin&lt;br /&gt;And from the 8-ball my breath start stinkin'&lt;br /&gt;I gotta get my girl to rock that body&lt;br /&gt;Before I left I hit the Bacardi&lt;br /&gt;Pulled to the house, get her out of the pad&lt;br /&gt;And the bitch said something to make me mad&lt;br /&gt;She said somethin' that I couldn't believe&lt;br /&gt;So I grabbed the stupid bitch by her nappy ass weave&lt;br /&gt;Started talkin' shit, wouldn't you know?&lt;br /&gt;I reached back like a pimp and I slapped the ho&lt;br /&gt;And her father stood up and he started to shout&lt;br /&gt;So I threw a right-cross and knocked his ol' ass out&lt;br /&gt;Cuz the boyz n tha hood are always hard&lt;br /&gt;Come talkin that trash and we'll pull your card&lt;br /&gt;Knowin nothin in life but to be legit&lt;br /&gt;Don't quote me boy, I ain't said shit&lt;br /&gt;Punk-ass trippin, but it's alright&lt;br /&gt;Homey scored a kee, he's gonna fly&lt;br /&gt;Punk-ass fly &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111223107179393150?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111223107179393150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111223107179393150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111223107179393150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111223107179393150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/smack-ho.html' title='Smack the ho'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111210633172043214</id><published>2005-03-29T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T06:25:31.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questionnaire</title><content type='html'>I want to know what's going on in my baby's head when it comes to certain things... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have to talk to her sometime, just not on the phone. And since she is probably reading this now, she needs to remind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be like a game of Scruples! Even though I've never played it, but that is beside the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kinda just wrote this so I wouldn't forget about it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would write what I was wondering, but I think it's a little... um... inappropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NIN - The Only Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;i'm drunk&lt;br /&gt;and right now i am so in love with you&lt;br /&gt;and i don't want to think too much about what we should or shouldn't do&lt;br /&gt;lay my hands on Heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars&lt;br /&gt;while the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car&lt;br /&gt;nothing quite like the feel of something new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up in you&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up in you&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear&lt;br /&gt;i just found everything i need&lt;br /&gt;the sweat in your eyes the blood in your veins are listening to me&lt;br /&gt;well i want to wrap it up and swim in it until i drown&lt;br /&gt;my moral standing is lying down&lt;br /&gt;nothing quite like the feel of something new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up in you&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up in you&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'm all messed up in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;br /&gt;this is the only time i really feel alive&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111210633172043214?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111210633172043214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111210633172043214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111210633172043214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111210633172043214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/questionnaire.html' title='Questionnaire'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111194299560709788</id><published>2005-03-27T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T09:03:15.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bansky</title><content type='html'>I think this guy is the shit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.woostercollective.com/2005/03/wooster-exclusive-banksy-hits-new.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;center&gt;Bansky&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111194299560709788?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111194299560709788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111194299560709788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111194299560709788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111194299560709788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/bansky.html' title='Bansky'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111154326074240676</id><published>2005-03-22T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T18:01:00.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Code Red Float</title><content type='html'>Boo ya! I have invented the greatest treat on earth! With only two, I repeat TWO ingriedients...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mountain Dew Code Red&lt;br /&gt;Cherry Italian Ice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour Code Red on the Italian Ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vee-Oh-La, there you have it, yum yum, what more can I say?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111154326074240676?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111154326074240676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111154326074240676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111154326074240676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111154326074240676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/code-red-float.html' title='Code Red Float'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111151929577597842</id><published>2005-03-22T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T11:21:35.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Authority</title><content type='html'>I sit here at work, ironically not doing work... Well it isn't ironic when you know it's going to happen. Anyway... I'm sitting here at work yet again wearing my Rage shirt, though covered with a suit jacket, finding it strange that I work for a government that I don't really care for. I'm not saying the system doesn't work, it does, if the people are right, and I'm not going to blame it on the people, because not all of them are out of hand. It is more than likely a mix of both. But I don't want to get in to a political essay and find myself thinking I am stupid days later when I read my blog again. I just find it funny that I sit here at the NSA looking up different ideologies on the unclassified net all day. It's a recent development because as I am about to finish my tour I have nothing to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to find every way that I can to screw with mall security but, still keep myself allowed on the premises. You see, they kicked me out... because I looked at a camera after I went to the bathroom, after I put money into their stinking mall to buy breakfast. They said I was not allowed to be there during school hours. Fuck that, I am there all the time and never caught and graft, but now they give me trouble because "I was obviously up to no good." Dumbass rent-a-cop. So I said I would see her tomorrow, but I won't really because I don't have school. I think I should just go up for the hell of it. Most the things I can think of to do are immature or dumb... but there has got to be a way to get back at them without getting in trouble. Find some place where they don't have authority over me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that authority has a problem with me? What have I ever done? Whether it be parental things, the police, or... well, the dumb rent-a-cop. I have done nothing to you people! Leave me alone! I don't have a problem with authority but you aren't helping yourselves by badgering me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not one to be kicked out of a mall either... I don't do anything out of place. I just mind my own business. But no, the rent-a-cops just can't stand for people looking at their cameras, so they have to kick them out, when ironically I was already leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eish... What will I ever do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;Rage Against The Machine - Killing in the name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Killing in the name of!&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Huh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killing in the name of!&lt;br /&gt;Killing in the name of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya &lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;But now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;Well now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;You justify those that died by wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;You justify those that died by wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses&lt;br /&gt;Uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Killing in the name of!&lt;br /&gt;Killing in the name of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control (7 times)&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya, now you're under control&lt;br /&gt;And now you do what they told ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;You justify those that died by wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;You justify those that died by wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites&lt;br /&gt;Come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! Come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Motherfucker!&lt;br /&gt;Uggh!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111151929577597842?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111151929577597842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111151929577597842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111151929577597842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111151929577597842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/authority.html' title='Authority'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111137208392086576</id><published>2005-03-20T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-20T18:28:03.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny, funny...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v325/astropanther/usofcanada.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woot! Universal health care for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111137208392086576?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111137208392086576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111137208392086576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111137208392086576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111137208392086576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/funny-funny.html' title='Funny, funny...'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111137160234066022</id><published>2005-03-20T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-20T18:20:02.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rage Against the Machine</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v325/astropanther/Rage_Against_Machine_Hoodie.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally! I have found a Rage hoodie. All frickin' day I've been looking for one and finally there is one on eBay. It cost me 46.99 but I think it is well worth it. Plus, my parents are giving it to me as an Easter present. I'm not really celebrating that holiday anyway because no one I know is going to be in the same state as me when the holiday comes around. So screw buying presents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to Rage. I'm missing my poster and my Testify single CD, so I'm a little ticked. The poster should be obvious because it is huge, but somehow it is eluding my eyes. And the CD is god knows where because it is out of the case. I'm making an Mp3 mix of all the Rage I have, and I want my Testify remixes from the single version, but alas it is no where to be found. I did however, find my Garbage 2.0 CD, so that's kinda good I suppose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have been losing my identity over the past year or so, I just realized that today. So I fixed it, well a little bit anyway. Had to put away some of the stuff that has to do with my fiance, pictures etc. I was kinda smothering myself in it. Kinda funny. In cleaning up I found a ring that fits my finger, so I put it on my left ring finger to balance out the whole putting things away. I only have one picture out now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I put a Rage sticker in the Bimmer's back window but it looked incredibly out of place so I took it out and put it in the Saturn, looks better there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, must phone my fiance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Rage Against The Machine - Take the Power Back&lt;br /&gt;Bring that shit in! Uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, the movement's in motion with mass militant poetry&lt;br /&gt;Now check this out...uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the right light, study becomes insight&lt;br /&gt;But the system that dissed us&lt;br /&gt;Teaches us to read and right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So called facts are fraud&lt;br /&gt;They want us to allege and pledge&lt;br /&gt;And bow down to their God&lt;br /&gt;Lost the culture, the culture lost&lt;br /&gt;Spun our minds and through time&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance has taken over&lt;br /&gt;Yo, we gotta take the power back!&lt;br /&gt;Bam! Here's the plan&lt;br /&gt;Motherfuck Uncle Sam&lt;br /&gt;Step back, I know who I am&lt;br /&gt;Raise up your ear, I'll drop the style and clear&lt;br /&gt;It's the beats and the lyrics they fear&lt;br /&gt;The rage is relentless&lt;br /&gt;We need a movement with a quickness&lt;br /&gt;You are the witness of change&lt;br /&gt;And to counteract&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, we gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on!&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The present curriculum&lt;br /&gt;I put my fist in 'em&lt;br /&gt;Eurocentric every last one of 'em&lt;br /&gt;See right through the red, white and blue disguise&lt;br /&gt;With lecture I puncture the structure of lies&lt;br /&gt;Installed in our minds and attempting&lt;br /&gt;To hold us back&lt;br /&gt;We've got to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Holes in our spirit causin' tears and fears&lt;br /&gt;One-sided stories for years and years and years&lt;br /&gt;I'm inferior? Who's inferior?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, we need to check the interior&lt;br /&gt;Of the system that cares about only one culture&lt;br /&gt;And that is why&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, we gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on!&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey yo check, we're gonna have to break it, break it,&lt;br /&gt;break it down&lt;br /&gt;Awww shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like this...uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, yeah! Bring it back the other way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher stands in front of the class&lt;br /&gt;But the lesson plan he can't recall&lt;br /&gt;The student's eyes don't perceive the lies&lt;br /&gt;bouncing off every fucking wall&lt;br /&gt;His composure is well kept&lt;br /&gt;I guess he fears playing the fool&lt;br /&gt;The complacent students sit and listen to some of that&lt;br /&gt;Bullshit that he learned in school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Europe ain't my rope to swing on&lt;br /&gt;Can't learn a thing from it&lt;br /&gt;Yet we hang from it&lt;br /&gt;Gotta get it, gotta get it together then&lt;br /&gt;Like the motherfuckin' weathermen&lt;br /&gt;To expose and close the doors on those who try&lt;br /&gt;To strangle and mangle the truth&lt;br /&gt;'Cause the circle of hatred continues unless we react&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, we gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;Come on, come on!&lt;br /&gt;We gotta take the power back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take it back y'all&lt;br /&gt;Take it back, a-take it back&lt;br /&gt;A-take it back y'all, come on!&lt;br /&gt;Take it back y'all&lt;br /&gt;Take it back, a-take it back&lt;br /&gt;A-take it back y'all, come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111137160234066022?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111137160234066022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111137160234066022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111137160234066022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111137160234066022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/rage-against-machine.html' title='Rage Against the Machine'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111101692248297207</id><published>2005-03-16T15:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T15:48:42.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange love?</title><content type='html'>Today I walked around the NSA wearing my Rage Against the Machine shirt, and otnight I sit here writing listening to Dave Matthews. Is this that fli-flopping I constantly heard about during the elections? No, not quite, but it does seem like some extreme differences. Rage gets me, well, I suppose angry could be the would, but it is more like pumped, and then DMB makes me sad. Especially the album 'Some Devil' makes me think about when my baby is going to leave me for Texas. And it makes me realize just hoe much I love her. Dave expresses my feelings in ways i could not possibly imagine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound like a pansy don't I? I can't help but sound that way, I'm not a pansy, but I am emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yikes, that last sentence doesn't help me out one bit. Hmmm, I'm in touch with my feelings? That doesn't sound good either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I just find it funny that I can go from Rage to Dave in one day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My music isn't just opposites either. My fiance and I are opposites, the preppy cheerleader type with the quiet doesn't-really-fit-anywhere guy. She's different around me, but her traits are still there. It's not a bad thing, she's really fun to be with. She's just what I needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other opposites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive two different cars: A Bimmer and a Saturn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I disagree with the government yet I work for them (That is changing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love computers and programming, hate math (supposedly they go hand-in-hand)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love to write, don't like reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shy, yet I love attention (I'm a Leo after all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Power hungry yet I dislike authority&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think I was one confused little boy, or man, but things work out this way. I get what I want done, and nothing seems to really screw things up. Sure I complain about every little thing that I find crappy about my life (ex: car, fiance), but things are really alright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just an observation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh god, not another love song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dave Matthews: Stay Or Leave (makes me sad)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe different but remember&lt;br /&gt;Winters warm where you and I&lt;br /&gt;Kissing whiskey by the fire &lt;br /&gt;With the snow outside&lt;br /&gt;And when the summer comes&lt;br /&gt;In the river&lt;br /&gt;Swims at midnight&lt;br /&gt;Shiver cold&lt;br /&gt;Touch the bottom&lt;br /&gt;Starry night&lt;br /&gt;With muddy toes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay or leave&lt;br /&gt;I want you not to go&lt;br /&gt;But you should&lt;br /&gt;It was good as good goes&lt;br /&gt;Stay or leave&lt;br /&gt;I want you not to go&lt;br /&gt;But you did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up naked drinking coffee&lt;br /&gt;Making plans to change the world&lt;br /&gt;While the world is changing us&lt;br /&gt;It was good good love&lt;br /&gt;You used to laugh under the covers&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not so often now&lt;br /&gt;But the way I used to laugh with you&lt;br /&gt;Was loud and hard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay or leave&lt;br /&gt;I want you not to go&lt;br /&gt;But you should&lt;br /&gt;It was good as good goes&lt;br /&gt;Stay or leave&lt;br /&gt;I want you not to go&lt;br /&gt;But you did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what to do&lt;br /&gt;With the rest of the day's afternoon hey&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it strange how we change&lt;br /&gt;Everything we did&lt;br /&gt;Did I do all that I should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I coulda done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember we used to dance&lt;br /&gt;And everyone wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;You and me&lt;br /&gt;I want to be too&lt;br /&gt;What day is this&lt;br /&gt;Besides the day you left me&lt;br /&gt;What day is this&lt;br /&gt;Besides the day you went&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what to do&lt;br /&gt;With the rest of the day's afternoon hey&lt;br /&gt;Well isn't it strange how we change&lt;br /&gt;Everything we did&lt;br /&gt;Did I do all that I could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember we used to dance&lt;br /&gt;And everyone wanted to be you and me&lt;br /&gt;I want to be too&lt;br /&gt;What day is this&lt;br /&gt;Besides the day you went babe&lt;br /&gt;What day is this&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111101692248297207?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111101692248297207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111101692248297207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111101692248297207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111101692248297207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/strange-love.html' title='Strange love?'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111101355252408563</id><published>2005-03-16T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T14:52:32.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ground is nothing more than one point of view</title><content type='html'>You know, if my fiance wants to be with me she will work it out somehow. And I don't mean this just in the long term. Seriously, if she really wants to see me, she will come and see me, she'll work it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if that is the correct point of view for the given situation, but that is what I think. It's not like I can do anything about it, if she can get out, she'll get out. All the asking in the world won't do a damn thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It probably is the wrong point of view, or attiturde, which ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My attitude is good in some areas though, moving for instance. Well, it's bittersweet anyway. The getting there part is, but the tone it is taking is a bit harsh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to move to Taos, anf the attitude I have is: I'm doing this, how am I going to make it work? Which is a postive one, but then again it also takes on the attitude of: I'm doing this and if you don't like it get the hell out of the way. get onboard or get lost. That could be a bad thing, but when I think of this place I feel like everything just works for me. I don't feel this right about many things. And the things I feel this good about tend to stick around.... Hence the title fiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taos fits my personality, and I think things will work out just fine. I don't have anything to hold me back. Which makes it seem so right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know things aren't going to be perfect, but I really think I will be happier there. It's just more my speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only time will tell... and I guess money helps too. But I'll have enough of both when everything comes to a head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dave Matthews - Raven&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you got what you got in your hand? - a father said to son&lt;br /&gt;I got the whole world here Daddy between my fingers and my thumb&lt;br /&gt;Well you take care of it please - it’s the only one&lt;br /&gt;Well it would take me a lifetime old man to undo what you’ve done&lt;br /&gt;To undo what you’ve done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh come on now boy think what would Jesus do?&lt;br /&gt;He shake his head like an angry mother - smoke the boy and say I did what I could do&lt;br /&gt;But you take care of it please – it’s the only one you got&lt;br /&gt;And it’d take ten lifetimes boy to undo what I’ve done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy shrugged walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood and watched as he was leaving&lt;br /&gt;Boy just walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood alone thinking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hand is bleeding and the other hand holds a gun&lt;br /&gt;While everything is open everything is shut down, down, down&lt;br /&gt;Begin to ending is really just a go round and round and round&lt;br /&gt;As I stand here - the ground beneath is nothing more than one point of view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you got what you got in your hand? Your secret’s safe with me&lt;br /&gt;Well I found the truth friend let me whisper in your ear&lt;br /&gt;Take good care of it please - it’s the only one there is&lt;br /&gt;Can I twist it please can I give it just a little twist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy shrugged walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood and watched as he was leaving&lt;br /&gt;Boy just walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood there twisting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hand is bleeding and the other hand holds a gun&lt;br /&gt;Everything is open now everything is shut down, down, down&lt;br /&gt;No one is holding even if you even if your sure&lt;br /&gt;You never know it all the ground beneath is nothing more than my point of view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy shrugged walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood and watched as he was leaving&lt;br /&gt;Boy just walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood there twisting&lt;br /&gt;One hand is open and the other hand holds the gun&lt;br /&gt;Everything is open now is everything coming down, down, down&lt;br /&gt;No one is hoping even if you even if you know&lt;br /&gt;You never know it all - nothing more than, nothing more than my point of view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy shrugged walked away&lt;br /&gt;The man stood and watched as he was leaving&lt;br /&gt;The man stood there twisting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dave Mattbews - Captain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy as I may make my way through this world &lt;br /&gt;It’s for no one but me to say what direction I shall turn &lt;br /&gt;I am the captain of this ship &lt;br /&gt;Curious hands and fingertips &lt;br /&gt;Day after day how I long for you my love how I long   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange but it seems like there’s a mutiny brewing inside me &lt;br /&gt;But I don’t want your pity only the promise that you’ll stay with me tonight &lt;br /&gt;Now I am the captain of this ship &lt;br /&gt;Curious hands and fingertips &lt;br /&gt;Day after day oh how I long for you like crazy &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Oh our love - how you do me &lt;br /&gt;Oh my love - come now lets go again &lt;br /&gt;Oh our love - everything &lt;br /&gt;Oh won’t play with me again got all night &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same old song won’t you come stay all my life after all &lt;br /&gt;Oh how could I even try to fight after falling into your arms? &lt;br /&gt;Oh mesmerized by your smile the way it lights up under your eyes &lt;br /&gt;Oh how could I even try love won’t you stay with me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh our love - how you do me &lt;br /&gt;Oh my love - come now lets go again &lt;br /&gt;Oh our love - everything &lt;br /&gt;Oh won’t play with me again we got all night &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same old song &lt;br /&gt;Won’t you come dance with me my love after all?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111101355252408563?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111101355252408563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111101355252408563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111101355252408563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111101355252408563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/ground-is-nothing-more-than-one-point.html' title='The ground is nothing more than one point of view'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111040700621006162</id><published>2005-03-09T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T14:23:26.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell?</title><content type='html'>What is wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I wanna know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it I can't stop thinking about separating from the one I love? Is it one of those things where if you can't have it you don't want anything to do with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it I don't answer the phone when she calls and I'm going to avoid her until I can't stand it any longer? Why is it i know I'm not going to call her? What in the hell is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be with her so badly. I want us to hang out like friends. I want her to just talk to me and not bring up what is up with me. I want someone to be with. i want a hug... damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought I might need some time alone, but that's just dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;NIN - We're in this together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've become impossible&lt;br /&gt;holding on to when&lt;br /&gt;when everything seemed to matter more&lt;br /&gt;the two of us&lt;br /&gt;all used and beaten up&lt;br /&gt;watching fate as it flow down the path we&lt;br /&gt;have chose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;we're in this together now&lt;br /&gt;none of them can stop us now&lt;br /&gt;we will make it through somehow&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;if the world should break in two&lt;br /&gt;until the very end of me&lt;br /&gt;until the very end of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awake to the sound as they peel apart the skin&lt;br /&gt;they pick and they pull&lt;br /&gt;trying to get their fingers in&lt;br /&gt;well they've got to kill what we've found&lt;br /&gt;well they've got to hate what we fear&lt;br /&gt;well they've got to make it go away&lt;br /&gt;well they've got to make it disappear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the farther I fall I'm beside you&lt;br /&gt;as lost as I get I will find you&lt;br /&gt;the deeper the wound I'm inside you&lt;br /&gt;for ever and ever I'm a part of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;we're in this together now&lt;br /&gt;none of them can stop us now&lt;br /&gt;we will make it through somehow&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;if the world should break in two&lt;br /&gt;until the very end of me&lt;br /&gt;until the very end of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all that we were is gone we have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;all that we were is gone we have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;when all our hope is gone we have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;all that we were is gone but we can hold on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;we're in this together now&lt;br /&gt;none of them can stop us now&lt;br /&gt;we will make it through somehow&lt;br /&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;even after everything&lt;br /&gt;you're the queen and I'm the king&lt;br /&gt;nothing else means anything&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111040700621006162?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111040700621006162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111040700621006162' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111040700621006162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111040700621006162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-hell.html' title='What the hell?'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-111037465897339053</id><published>2005-03-09T04:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T05:34:07.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion</title><content type='html'>Here's the deal... I'm aggravated with my fiance but I'm not quite sure why. It isn't that I'm not happy with her for no reason; I have a reason, I just can't quite pin point if that is all there is to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that gets me right off is just not being able to see her. But I know there has to be more to it than that. It's a mix of things, like knowing she is moving to Texas, and the last time I saw her she was trying to talk me into doing something I didn't want to do almost the whole time, and a few other things. It kinda seems like she is regressing into what her mother wants her to be, after she just stood up for herself. The only problem I have with that is that if this becomes a life-long thing I'm not gonna stick around for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just starting to feel like if she is going to be gone, then don't put me through this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why am I even thinking about this?&lt;/em&gt; I don't know. I'm seeing less of her lately, and it's one of those things where I'd be fine if I knew I wasn't going to see her, but it's more along the lines of I find out when I'm in the middle of not being able to wait to see her. So it's a let-down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is it... I'm afraid of being let-down. I'm afraid that when it comes time for her to come back here there is gonna be some stupid thing that keeps her in Texas. Or when it comes time for her to visit me something is going to happen and keep her away from me. And it bothers me further to think that it'll probably end up being her own doing that keeps her away, like not standing up for herself, or not thinking ahead of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do I not trust her?&lt;/em&gt; That's absurd. I trust her, it's just that experience has shown me I have reason to worry about being let-down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-111037465897339053?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/111037465897339053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=111037465897339053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111037465897339053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/111037465897339053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/confusion.html' title='Confusion'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110998391786914222</id><published>2005-03-04T16:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T16:51:58.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>News in brief...?</title><content type='html'>There are a ton of things to write about, but over the week my ambition levels have dropped so I have decided not to devote entire posts to each of my subjects. Maybe if I start becoming "un-depressed" it'll pick up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bimmer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I finally figured out what is wrong with my BMW. After much searching and reading I have found that one of the seals is leaking in my transmission. It's nice to know what is wrong, but I can't fix it myself so I'm a tad bummed. The last time my transmission was worked on I recieved a long-term warranty so I am hoping that this 'new' problem is under it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My temporary tags have expired, and the police took note of it. I got pulled over for it and recieved 2 tickets and a warning, totaling $110. Later in the day I rescued my car from the senior center lot by switching my mother's Saturn tag to the Bimmer. I called the dealer to try and figure out what the deal was, and they told me I never picked my tags up from them. Since when do you have to get your tags from the dealer? Mine have always been sent to me. When I go to court over the tickets I'll explain the situation to the judge, who should throw out the case, at least that is what the officer said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiance:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has me in all kinds of confusion. I get a call from her in the middle of the night saying she has been kicked out of her house and now she is back home and it is as if nothing ever happened. It was a bit disappointing because I thought she was finally able to get out of her shitty situation. But, I can't say I didn't see it coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow she is taking me to see one of her friends but on a show. It is all day and I have to get up at 6:15 in the morning. I'm not looking forward to it, but I am going for two reasons: 1. I never see her 2. It is easier to just go than have someone mad at me for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;There are more things to write about, but again, the ambition thing... Plus, no one reads this crap anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110998391786914222?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110998391786914222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110998391786914222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110998391786914222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110998391786914222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/news-in-brief.html' title='News in brief...?'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110986541313330189</id><published>2005-03-03T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T08:02:11.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The thing about that is...</title><content type='html'>Question: Am I depressed? Answer: How the hell should I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I went by the commercials I see on the tele every day, yea, I'm one depressed sack o' shit. But honestly I'd call myself, lost. A year ago, before I had my job and my vehicle, I thought I was stuck in a time warp. I just couldn't get started... Stuck in a ditch. Then things got rolling and I thought life would be great, but it turns out that was a temporary high. A high from what? I can't explain it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I feel almost the same way with the exception that I realize 'then' was nothing compared to 'now.' At this point in my life things really should get moving for me, school is at an end, I have a steady job, I have a car, and I am nearly 18. But, deception comes in many forms and I, well I, am not going anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may be repeating myself here, but I'll go ahead anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girlfriend seems nonexistent, we talk on the phone, but that just doesn't cover it. My car is out of whack, I think it is kind of working, but that damned smoke gets on my nerve. And my job... well it sucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can foresee two of the three being fixed in the future, the car and the job. But not the girlfriend part, because she is moving to Texas to go to college for a semester until she turns 18. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do I have a solution? Not really... Unless waiting is a solution. I probably just need to find a hobby. Winter can really screw you up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? That's probably the problem... It's winter. It's cold. It's windy. And I am therefore stuck in the house ALL THE TIME. All this stir-craziness is driving me nuts. I have got to get out of here, out of this place... Reminded me of the Matrix for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to go out looking for my own place, but it is really futile since I am still 17. Looking will only make me want to get out more and I won't be able to so in the end worrying about my own place will only make matters worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do then? Make the best of a crappy situation. How? When I figure that out I won't need a blog anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*************&lt;br /&gt;Excuse the crappy writing style, I wrote this in 7 minutes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110986541313330189?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110986541313330189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110986541313330189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110986541313330189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110986541313330189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/thing-about-that-is.html' title='The thing about that is...'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110985584035289262</id><published>2005-03-03T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T05:23:53.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That damned car</title><content type='html'>Alright, to start us off, I must explain the beginnings of this car. I own a 1989 BMW 535i. I bought it at the end of 2004 for $3300 total. Everything in it was stock, and it ran very well. The dealer sold it to me without a warranty, but nothing looked wrong with the car so I just bought it anyhow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month or so later I took it out driving for a bit of fun and the transmission died on me. Prior to that I used to always hear a weird knocking/popping noise coming from my muffler, or so I thought. I got the transmission done for $1800 which isn't bad considering the quotes given to me from most places were around $3-$5000. And that was great for about a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old popping noise I heard went away, but it was replaced by a new noise and a vibration. Two for the price of one. I took the car back to the transmission place hoping I could blame my problems on them. Turns out the issue was with the drive shaft, it had no center bearing. How my center bearing/support suddenly went missing makes no sense, but it needed repair anyway. The guy at the shop said I could drive it, just so long as I didn't take-off fast. For a second there I thought he might of taken it out to make some kind of profit, but when I asked if he did that kind of work he backed out, so that killed my conspiracy theory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Baltimore to get the problem taken care of. Took the day off of work and school. I should have just stayed in bed. I'm not even close to Baltimore and I get pulled over in some big speeding sting operation on 295. Funny thing is, I was one of the slower people on the race track that day, but that's how those things work. When in Baltimore I half ass my way through the city to try and find this place. I get there and it looks like some kind of crack house with a bunch of mechanics running around on fork-lifts speaking some strange language... Romanian maybe. I try not to think to hard on it and I just leave the car there to pick it up later. Meanwhile, I freeze my ass of walking around the harbor waiting for them to call me. Towards the end of the day, and near their closing time I wander back in to see what is going on. They tell me that they thought I was just dropping it off and didn't bother working on it. This after they told me the day before that they didn't want my car on their lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I never went back to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple days later I called up my most reliable mechanic to see if he would do it for me. He said it wasn't his kind of thing, but for me, he'd do it. BMW wanted to sell me the parts I needed for $700, a price I couldn't afford, so he went looking for a used drive shaft. In the end he couldn't find any, so I was left to figure out what to do. On the net I was able to find a drive shaft for about $400, I went with that and gave my mechanic the parts. Oh, and he said I shouldn't have been driving it, seeing as it was ready to break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That all ended up costing me around $600, plus another car (I totaled my back-up car, a 1993 Chevrolet Cavalier, after the axle broke on me... I have the greatest luck). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the repairs alone on this thing have cost me a few thousand dollars. I keep wondering if this car has been a mistake... But if it is one, hell if it isn't one of the most fun mistakes I've ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as other costs go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paid about $700 total to get my sound system up to date. Pioneer speakers all around, JVC head unit, Alpine Amp, and an Alpine 10 inch Subwoofer. It sounds &lt;i&gt;extremely&lt;/i&gt; nice, so no regrets there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I'm worried about is this strange smoke that enters my car and comes out the side of it when I idle after a few minutes of driving over 45mph. It's come from where most of the repairs were done, and it is definitely oil, so my hope is that there was some extra grease that just needs to burn off. If not... I have to find a way to fix this myself, it's hard to look cool when your car looks like it is on fire. Especially on the school parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my eyes set on an E32 750il, but the words &lt;a href="http://www.my750.com/"&gt;Driving Machine Disaster&lt;/a&gt; just don't appeal to me. I think my next car will be a &lt;a href="http://automobiles.honda.com/models/exterior_gallery.asp?ModelName=Insight"&gt;Honda Insight&lt;/a&gt;. Unless I find &lt;a href="http://www.kindel.com/bmw/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; car some where. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;Sidenote: Honestly, that '95 BMW 540i Sport isn't too much different than my '89 535i on the inside, but I'd still buy it in a heart beat. That car just oozes sexiness. Ha, that's pretty funny. But still, I find that to be one kick-ass bimmer. Better than the new ones in my humble opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110985584035289262?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110985584035289262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110985584035289262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110985584035289262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110985584035289262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/that-damned-car.html' title='That damned car'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110972859002726011</id><published>2005-03-01T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T17:56:30.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless self promotion</title><content type='html'>My old site FlamingPinkFlamingo, had well over a couple thousand hits, a number I can only dream of at the moment. I'm willing to try just about anything to promote my blog, short of advertisement anyway. It seemed that most of my traffic from my old site came from people who were searching for Dave Matthews lyrics. I really don't want a repeat of that. My goal is to attain a decent regular audience that adds some input into what write. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how do I get that? Earlier today I was thinking about doing some kind of comic, kind of like alien-loves-predator. On second thought though, I'm leaning more towards just getting my address known and letting the writing speak for itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to keep in mind however, that most likely anyone who has stumbled across this site has done so accidentally. With that in mind I may want to do something that just grabs your attention and confuses you so much that you just have to keep looking. Thing is, I don't know how to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact... I don't know how to do much entertaining at all. Most of my relationships are based on the idea that if you don't like something about me, to hell with you, and if you do actually like me (how I am) go ahead and take a seat. So I'm not the greatest at advertising myself, I've just never felt the need or desire to. I've just always gotten lucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't live that way, luck won't carry me far, but hell, it's only a blog. And I'm only looking for a few comments anyway...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110972859002726011?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110972859002726011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110972859002726011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110972859002726011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110972859002726011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/shameless-self-promotion.html' title='Shameless self promotion'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110972545836898939</id><published>2005-03-01T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T17:04:18.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's to know?</title><content type='html'>I mentioned before, quite briefly, 'sometimes I feel like I don't know myself.' That certainly is a strange thing to say. And it could signal that I have some serious issues to work out. But issues aside, I guess I ought to explain myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like everyday the clock is ticking down to the day when I become a full-blown adult, and I really don't feel prepared for it. I know the motions, but it's actually making the moves that I have problems with. I have said before that I know the ambitions I have, I just don't know how to start it all up. It's like having an idea for a great speech or novel but not knowing what the first paragraph is about. I know tons about my emotional self, I'm fairly emotional so it wasn't that hard to identify how I really work, it's what I will be happy doing that is a mystery to me. I'm so used to living in the moment and being able to switch between things freely without much consequence that actually having to get a set rhythm is an alien subject. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my major debate is whether I want to have a simple job and worry about my home life, or have a meaningful job and put my heart into that. I don't know why there is a debate, if I'm with my fiance whom I love beyond belief then the answer is simple: Get a simple job to bring in the dough so I can live like I want. I'd be happy with that, but for some reason there are parts of me that want to go out and enforce the law trying to make the nation a better place to live in. It just makes my heart ache to go out and do those things, but maybe it's just a romantic idea. Maybe I'm just looking to be a hero? Really though, if I had an answer to that would I be writing about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ambitions change from week to week so I can't really make a solid decision. All I can come up with now is the following... I'm about to start a $30,000 a year job that can last me a few years so I might was well just start with that and let things roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't stand feeling like I am in auto-pilot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't moan though, I've done more in 17 years than most people I know. It's a rarity to see someone in as good a position as mine, so I'm told. It just doesn't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are missing inside of me. My love life is good, when it is existent... My job is okay, hopefully it will get better... My financial situation is not-so-good but it will get better... My self situation is... Well, I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me sound kind of incomplete, a few months ago I felt better than I ever have before. I had just started a great job for the government, I was rolling the dough, my car was reliable, and my girlfriend could actually see me. Than that BMW came along... It broke a few times, took all my money, separated me from work, and put stress in places it didn't need to, like my relationships. So from time to time I think buying the car was a mistake. In all honesty though, the series of events that have led to my pseudo-depression aren't really connected, they just feed off each other. I just have to look towards the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.&lt;br /&gt;        Pliny the Elder&lt;br /&gt;        Roman scholar &amp; scientist (23 AD - 79 AD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex.&lt;br /&gt;        Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891&lt;br /&gt;        Irish dramatist, novelist, &amp; poet (1854 - 1900)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110972545836898939?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110972545836898939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110972545836898939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110972545836898939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110972545836898939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/whats-to-know.html' title='What&apos;s to know?'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110968971768680161</id><published>2005-03-01T06:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T07:08:37.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Aforementioned</title><content type='html'>Hopefully I used that word correctly, it doesn't matter much to me whether I did or not, but I figure this sentence can be used as a disclaimer in case it isn't correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned in another post that I don't think my girlfriend/fiance and I will make it through her tour in Texas (which is approx. 1 college semester). I guess I ought to do some explaining.... You see, my fiance is very friendly, and she is able to rack up friends where-ever she goes, I however am not so skilled. So I believe that she is going to end up making friends with a bunch of guys and thereafter fall for one of them because he is cute, funny, and pretty much everything else I am for her. And in seeing that this position can be filled by someone else she'll slowly lose her love for me and viola I'm out of the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says the same of me, but honestly I don't have the looks to pull off that kind of thing, and I'm a bit too antisocial. I could end up finding someone else, you never know, but I figure the only reason I'd break up with her is because I can't see her anymore. Which is a stupid reason anyway... We might as well be taking a break or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is that it seems to me that my life is a series of great ironies, and it would be just my luck to have something so great taken away from me. Let me reiterate... We seem like one of those couples who are so in love with one another that we make everyone else sick. You know, one of those couples that it seems like absolutely nothing could come between us. So I think it would be incredibly ironic to have circumstances beyond our control destroy our relationship. It used to seem like only an act of God could separate us... Well, distance does just as good a job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month's she will be spending in Texas will however prove whether or not we were meant for each other. We have always believed that because of the circumstances under which we met that we were meant for each other. I wrote about it in another place so I'll just skim over the situation lightly here. January 2nd, 2004 there was a lock-in at a church... I'm not all to friendly with the church so it is amazing that I even went. My friend kind of guilt-tripped me into it anyway. And it is amazing that she even went because she can NEVER get out of the house, it is insane how sheltered she has been. But coincidentally her friend dragged her there as well. Also, if she had quit cheerleading that year like she planned, she would have never met that friend. And if I weren't so anxious to get a girlfriend earlier that year I would have never talked to the friend that dragger me there. Around that time though I had given up looking, though I was about to start going out with another girl I knew on the Newspaper. Well, being locked in a church and all, there isn't all too much to do, and I ended up just wandering around a bit. Well, in my wandering I came upon this cute chick (soon to be cute girlfriend) quite a bit, I almost felt like and accidental stalker. As the night went on I became quite smitten with her, and we had breakfast together... Not really romantic though, sitting across from her at a plastic table with no conversation whatsoever. I don't think it mattered much, we were both delirious. When it came time to leave I almost asked her number, but chickened out. We left at the same time because our parents got there at the same time. When we talk about it now we both confess that we wanted to hug each other, but for some reason we didn't. So, if I didn't get her number how did I ever speak to her again? It turns out that my friend knew her friend and they got us all "hooked up." And from there it is pretty much history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think I used to say I was comfortable with never seeing her again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it ironic that only after I stopped looking for love, did love find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After writing all that, and reading it over, I feel like we might be able to make it. We have a few months left together so we might as well make the best of it. Plus, I can always visit her if I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we were meant for each other after all... Who knows? I guess we'll have to see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a yellow wood&lt;br /&gt;and sorry I could not travel both&lt;br /&gt;And be one traveler, long I stood&lt;br /&gt;and looked down one as far as I could&lt;br /&gt;to where it bent in the undergrowth;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then took the other, as just as fair,&lt;br /&gt;and having perhaps the better claim&lt;br /&gt;because it was grassy and wanted wear;&lt;br /&gt;though as for that, the passing there&lt;br /&gt;had worn them really about the same,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And both that morning equally lay&lt;br /&gt;in leaves no feet had trodden black.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I kept the first for another day!&lt;br /&gt;Yet knowing how way leads on to way,&lt;br /&gt;I doubted if I should ever come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be telling this with a sigh&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence:&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--&lt;br /&gt;I took the one less traveled by,&lt;br /&gt;and that has made all the difference&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110968971768680161?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110968971768680161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110968971768680161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110968971768680161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110968971768680161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/03/aforementioned.html' title='The Aforementioned'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110964116166053731</id><published>2005-02-28T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T18:05:31.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blathering on...</title><content type='html'>So my fiance won't look at the site because she is afraid her parents will yell at her if they find something on it. That's stupid shit, but whatever. Fiance doesn't look right in that sentence... Girlfriend would work a bit nicer, it fits the situation better. But she is my fiance, so I'm supposed to call her that even though I don't all the time. Anyway, back to the point, oh wait... There was no point to that, just felt like announcing to the world that my girlfriend would not be viewing this website. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, with that comes a different range of things I can write about. Things that would normally upset her to know that I think about. 'Cause I can get us in a whole mess of trouble just because I thought of something not so nice. The above makes it sound worse than it actually is... She just gets upset when I think about things like us not being together. Like how I think that we may not last anymore. I want us to, but I think something is going to end up changing when she moves to Texas this summer. The idea of complete freedom does sound quite nice though, but I also love to be with her, so it's hard. I guess all this thought was brought on by the fact that I haven't seen her when I was supposed to the past couple times and I'm becoming quite used to disappointment. My mom also went on a road trip, so now I have this urge to just go... Plus I watched The Motorcycle Diaries yesterday so the urge to run is just compounding. With my luck Jaime will send one of her friends over to check out my site, then I will be in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is reading this anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to figure out what I want to do with my life, or at least the first few years of it. I mean, I know the places I want to see and the things I want to do, but I don't know what it is I'll be doing in order to go out and do all those things. Where is my cash cow? My niche? What the hell am I gonna do for money? On the onset the answer to that question seems simple... Sex for money. But, I am not so lucky to be able to enter that industry. At the moment I really have the choice of one of the following three: IT, Law Enforcement, Auto Repair. In about a month I will have a $30k/year job with a contractor of the NSA fixing computers, but I don't think that is where I'll be staying, we will have to see though. IT seems kinda nerdy and simple... but maybe that it what I need. Law Enforcement is going to be trouble but fulfilling, and Auto Repair will save me lots of cash, but be a dirty job. There is more to it than that, but it gets the basic idea out there. I dunno, I'm sure I'll be blathering on about this kinda crap later on in my other entries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I don't feel like I know myself anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool site: &lt;a href="http://alienlovespredator.com"&gt;Alien Loves Predator&lt;/A&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admiration is a very short-lived passion, that immediately decays upon growing familiar with its object.  ~Joseph Addison, The Spectator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.  ~Dave Barry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man who says he is willing to meet you halfway is usually a poor judge of distance.  ~Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God:  The most popular scapegoat for our sins.  ~Mark Twain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110964116166053731?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110964116166053731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110964116166053731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110964116166053731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110964116166053731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/02/blathering-on.html' title='Blathering on...'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11143109.post-110962941715948304</id><published>2005-02-28T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T16:52:16.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FlamingPinkFlamingo</title><content type='html'>There was once this site named FlamingPinkFlamingo, and it was fairly decent for what it was. It got the point across in the rare moment that there was a point to be made. It was a place to vent, or express whatever other emotion someone might have. Well, one day the expression became too much, and the site caused more trouble than it was worth. In retrospect it actually did not, it served it's purpose though it was never consciously intended for the purpose it served. (If that makes sense) But before it could be realized that it was of use it was taken down. So in it's place 535i has been created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, it's a bit hard to write about this without using "I, me, etc" so from here on out the style has changed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got a site up so I could get a fresh start on writing again. The name came from my Bimmer, I couldn't think of anything better, so I just used the series number. When I started creating this site earlier today my mission was to have a password set up so that no one who wasn't supposed to see the content would be able to. But, I found it a bit immature to (in a way) be hiding behind a locked door yelling profanities at the passers-by. Therefore there is no password, and I honestly don't care who reads it, I don't get too much fanfare in the first place. It's been said to me, and I pretty much already knew this, don't publish something if you don't want it read. So with that in mind I will continue tweaking my new site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have more to say but I'm going to put it in another post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11143109-110962941715948304?l=fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/feeds/110962941715948304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11143109&amp;postID=110962941715948304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110962941715948304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11143109/posts/default/110962941715948304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fivethirtyfive.blogspot.com/2005/02/flamingpinkflamingo.html' title='FlamingPinkFlamingo'/><author><name>Orenda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14149738298477487874</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g195/okidokedork/pdMTSES0048.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
