<?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-4667930593897527931</id><updated>2011-10-24T01:01:10.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Passionately Dislike You</title><subtitle type='html'>cause "hate is such a strong word"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-3902666902577921191</id><published>2010-09-29T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T20:06:17.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost a year later...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33FF33;"&gt;I've decided to blog again! Lets see how long it lasts this time :)  But since I decided I like this old one so much, I am going to try and keep it going...but start another one with different things...follow me !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-3902666902577921191?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/3902666902577921191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=3902666902577921191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/3902666902577921191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/3902666902577921191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2010/09/almost-year-later.html' title='Almost a year later...'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-1831304567193945403</id><published>2009-02-17T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T23:50:40.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dave Matthews, suck it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;I don't like Dave Matthews Band. Never have, never will. I liked the one song, The Space Between, but only because that movie was so good (Blackhawk Down).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;I don't find you musically appealing!!! Along with the Beatles. And that's that. But what really grinds my gears is the fans. You are straight up ridiculous. In my experience with Dave, most people either love the band, or hate the band. There is no happy medium. Which is ridiculous, but whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Yes you, Dave fan. Don't look at me like I shot your puppy when I tell you I don't like Dave. I didn't!!!! Your puppy is alive and kicking and probably loves DMB too because thats all you listen to. Ever. It's beyond me. When I tell you I don't like DMB, I'm not trying to mortally offend you--that is not my goal. In fact, I could care less that you like them and I do not. I'm just making the statement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;So why, oh why, dear DMB fan, must you try and force me to like them??? You tell a Dave Matthews fan that you don't like Dave Matthews and there goes your night. "oh just listen to this one song, it'll change your life". NO IT WON'T!!!!! It will suck. and It will make me mad. So then, the rest of the night, a fan is trying to change your outlook. Just accept it!!! Why must I see like you???? I don't force you to listen to Lady Gaga or my emo shit of the week, or even Weezy, should you so protest (but really..who protests Weezy??). I mean you should, cause it's awesome, but i don't make you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Your puppy is alive. We're having a good time. Why spoil it with your instance that "dave is awesome, man."???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;oh my.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Also, why is it that people who love Dave Matthews always refer to him as "Dave"? Are you guys BFFs? Do you reserve first name rights? People talk about him like they're long time friends, when they have probably never met. Ever. It's weird. Really, really, weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;(I'm sorry LeRoi died. may he rest in peace)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;Also, put on shoes before you step on a rusty nail and get sick!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;(Sam..i love you and how you don't force your love of dave matthews on me and how you never wear shoes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-1831304567193945403?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/1831304567193945403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=1831304567193945403' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/1831304567193945403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/1831304567193945403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2009/02/dave-matthews-suck-it.html' title='Dave Matthews, suck it.'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-5311227613899404838</id><published>2009-01-24T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T23:57:20.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Identity My Ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohhhh hi. I was just thinking about masquerade balls and the whole concept of masks. Most importantly, the television and movie kind.  Who writes this crap into movies? I like masquerade balls, like the New Years Eve ones. So it is not the ball factor I do not like (who doesn't like balls? get it? only kidding). What I do not like is how they're used in media to disguise identities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Seriously?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt; Seriously&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;????? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;You expect me to believe that a tiny piece of plastic disguises who the other person is?  I wore a batman mask when i was little, with my Robin pajamas. yeah, I was batman AND robin at once. But everyone knew it was me!!!! Because its a small piece of plastic with eye holes!!! And no amount of feathers and beads will that change that. (disclaimer: this obviously does not include face size masks and those that cover more than 3/4 of the face) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The Cinderella Story Example:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Chad Michael Murray, you expect me to believe that you can't tell that this broad&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SYAJ2G-TC9I/AAAAAAAAABo/Z9qLfd71dsg/s320/hilary_duff2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296243986977197010" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;isn't the same as this one???:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 231px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SYAJUQtaZqI/AAAAAAAAABg/X3AcFbUW0l8/s320/hillary1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296243405475178146" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;No wonder this was your last movie anyone heard of. You're stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;The Superman Example:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;Oh Lois Lane. Silly Lois Lane. You're a reporter!!! Dedicated to truth, and justice. Truth my ass, you don't want to see the truth and report the truth because then, it would be revealed to the world that you're having an illicit affair with Superman, and you're not Wonder Woman, whom the whole comic book world thinks he should really be with.  As Brodie said in Mallrats, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;"It's impossible, Lois could never have Superman's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? I guarantee you he blows a load like a shotgun right through her back. What about her womb? Do you think it's strong enough to carry his child? He's an alien, for Christ sake. His Krypotonian biological makeup is enhanced by the earth's yellow sun. If Lois get a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a Kryponite condom. That would kill him."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;He's right Lois. Open your eyes and realize that this guy: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SYANRg2QoyI/AAAAAAAAAB4/V7yUyelp0BE/s320/superman2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296247756314157858" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Is the same as this guy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SYAM5Xa-24I/AAAAAAAAABw/Xs76OVpiW_Y/s320/superman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296247341466966914" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;and will you never have his kids. You'll probably get promoted up the glass ceiling for revealing Superman's true identity. Dump him, and go for a man whose ass you can kick, like Jimmy, the Daily Planet's adorably innocent photographer, who later was in the Dungeons and Dragons movie. Way to succeed, Jimmy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;So there you have prime examples of why masks on television shows are a big load of "bullpoodie", as my old roommate used to say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-5311227613899404838?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/5311227613899404838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=5311227613899404838' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/5311227613899404838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/5311227613899404838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2009/01/secret-identity-my-ass.html' title='Secret Identity My Ass'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SYAJ2G-TC9I/AAAAAAAAABo/Z9qLfd71dsg/s72-c/hilary_duff2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-6437870355628125188</id><published>2009-01-10T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T21:38:46.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear URA2OOL...news flash. you're a tool.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;As i've learned, and you probably already know, i hate a lot of things. (Please note that by hate, i don't usually mean hate as much as i mean "passionately dislike"or whatever that crap people say because "hate is such a strong word"). What do I hate? Vanity plates. Now, I do not dislike ALL vanity plates, just a few...i shall categorize and break down for you which and why:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;1. 95STANG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Or something of the like. That was the dumbest one I could think of off the top i've my head. It's cool though, because I'm sure someone has it. Guess what, '95 Mustang driver....you're an idiot. Seriously. First off, your mustang sucks and looks like crap (for those who drives nice cars like porsche and benz and bmw, ignore that. you most likely don't resemble a hoopty and/or jalopy). Secondly, and more importantly, i'm not an idiot. I can see your car. With my eyes. I might wear contacts but my vision is not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; damaged. I can see what kind of car you had! I can see that hood ornament, I can see the make and model printed on the car. I know what kind of car you have. So does everyone else. Restating the make and model of your motor vehicle on your license plate is stupid...it trashes it up. Think of all the cool things you could be doing with that extra couple bucks you spend each month on vanity plates. You could get an oil change! you could pay for crazy foreign parts it needs because you bought a snazzy german car! Just because you can afford a cool car, doesn't mean you need to restate the obvious. obviously!!! my car is the shit, and i don't have a vanity plate. everyone just knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;2. DDYSLILOBNOXBRAT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;yeah, ok, i know that's longer than any real license plate. but seriously.  Your license plate that says Daddys Little Girl, or ThanksDad! or Spoiled!! makes you look dumb. Now, I know your car is probably pink or yellow and a Volkswagon Bug, or Jetta, (here we are with the german cars again!), and maybe a Honda civic or something. Wow, do you look like a dumb cunt. (sorry, can i use that word?). Not to mention that fact that you're probably vacant, vapid and entirely obnoxious. You most likely think that Hawaii is next to Alaska because they go together on a map.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);"&gt;(Disclaimer: I do have a friend that thought that, but she's not qualified for this. She's incredibly smart, I love her, and she doesn't have a vanity plate)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  Hey!! You should go on My Super Sweet Sixteen. I've already mocked you enough, your father may look ridiculous for buying you whatever you want because you whine about it, and if you could, i'm sure you'd have your car diamond encrusted. WOW what a waste of diamonds. But I digress. To summarize, the name "vanity plate" sums up how you represent yourself...vain. If you wanna thank your dad, parents, etc, for the car, drive safe, take care of it, and be responsible. Think of all the fake tan you could get with that extra money you (or daddy) wastes on your plates each month. ...tan...or plates...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;3. URA2OOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Here, I reveal to you, dear reader, that URA2OOL is a legit, existing license plate in the greater DC area. Specifically, where Fairfax meets Chantilly on Stringfellow road.  WOW. I've seen you dude, and i think its safe to say that you are the tool. First of all, you made that your license plate, which screams "help me, i'm afraid that by being a complete d-bag in my efforts to be cool that i look like a tool, so if my license plate calls other people tools, it will solidify my coolness!" WRONG. wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. fail. do not pass go, do not collect $200.  Haven't you ever heard the saying "takes one to know one?". stop...think about it...yes. there you go.  You're a tool, and officially always will be. I drove past your car on New Year's day. i wanted to leave a note that your new years resolution should be "to be less toolbaggy and get a new license plate." You pay monthly to reinforce your idiocy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Again, I digress. You're just one person! I just passionately dislike vanity plates that make statements about other people or the speed your going (I know these don't relate, but for some reason i feel as though they belong in the same category); URA2OOL, 2CLOSE,  2FAST, 2FURIOUS, INAHURRY, whatever. hey INAHURRY, we're in traffic on the beltway. were ALL in a hurry, ass. The Fast and the Furious is a stupid movie, along with all sequels. Why would you automatically assume I'm too close? I probably am, but i'm working on it okay? But not everyone is!! You're making assumptions. To assume is make an "ass" out of "u" and "me". Mostly you. Etcetera, etcetera. You get the picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So readers, the few of you. Few and fabulous. This is my rant for the evening. Please don't fall victim to one of these categories, (yes, "&lt;a href="http://www.woley.net/"&gt;woley&lt;/a&gt;" is a perfectly acceptable vanity plate, no "87PINTO" is not)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Also, shoutout to the best vanity plate i've ever seen.... "BEERLUVR". you rule. hey, if you have any plates that stick out in your mind as awesome or stupid, feel free to comment and contribute..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-6437870355628125188?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/6437870355628125188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=6437870355628125188' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/6437870355628125188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/6437870355628125188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2009/01/dear-ura2oolnews-flash-youre-tool.html' title='Dear URA2OOL...news flash. you&apos;re a tool.'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-2819791284310954775</id><published>2008-10-23T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T21:59:52.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why the SOLs don't evaluate your future.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SCENE:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; (you're in a classroom, with the walls covered with cute posters of strange and violent history turned into happy cartoons like "The Greek Gods" and "The Crusades!", with atlases on the wall and maybe a room border of the alphabet..in cursive! Desks are in rows so that the small children won't cheat off each other. Folders are put up around the corners of desks so they &lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt; won't cheat. Kids are around a fifth grade level. There is a girl and a boy in desks next to each other with their lunches crammed in with all the books and colored pencils and odd things children keep in their desks, like glue piles and melted crayons. Both are brunette.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Boy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(leans over to girl and whispers)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Hey, what's box 2-&lt;em&gt;I-i-&lt;/em&gt;a-b?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Girl:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(whispers back):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;uhhh they just want to know if you're male or female&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Boy:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;whispers...still):&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;yeah...am I male or female?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Girl:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;(whispering...this is a test setting):&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;You're male...i'm female.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;End Scene.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(Please note the gender stereotyping in the script)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;Now folks, you may be thinking "oh that Jenn, she should write screenplays. Or at least Lifetime movies" (I'd prefer the latter), but no! Alas, I did not come up with that on my own. This really happened. Hint: the girl was me.  Now lets fast forward to the modern day, yesterday. I'm at the grocery store buying, you know, groceries. All to prepare a fine dinner of herb roasted pork, red potatoes and green beans. Also, a pumpkin cheesecake. As I look to my left, woe, I see said boy from the fifth grade classroom. He does not recognize me. Thank goodness. While I chat it up with the butcher about pork loins, in the meat section, I eye him up and down in my peripheral vision. In his nice collared buttondown shirt, tucked into his neatly pressed pants (they were from Express for men, previously known at Structure), I noticed this: an office building ID badge attached to his pocket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;There you have it ladies and gents! The boy who inquired about his gender to me in fifth grade is now gainfully employed. And I, smart little pigtailed fifth grader, who spent no doubt life being smarter than he, am not. I don't mean to be vain, i'm not the smartest kid ever (although let it be said that fifth grade was the year I decided I was going to read my Dad's college textbook: William Shakespeare..the complete collection!), BUT I did go to elementary school, middle school, and high school with him. I'm smarter, I swear. (Plus, employers, i'm super nice, outgoing, a hard worker and a quick learner).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;anyway, just letting out a little frustration. I have a phone interview tomorrow at 3:30, perhaps it will work out for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Luck please &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-2819791284310954775?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/2819791284310954775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=2819791284310954775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/2819791284310954775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/2819791284310954775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-sols-dont-evaluate-your-future.html' title='Why the SOLs don&apos;t evaluate your future.'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-703904120436228831</id><published>2008-10-15T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T21:23:31.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your tickles pain me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;To the Male Population&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! Jenn here. Wanted to drop you an FYI about flirting. Here's the thing that i've experienced many times in my life as a flirting technique, yet absolutely despise. It started maybe circa 8th grade. I do not know if there was a male memo on this but it seems popular. In reality, it should have stopped maybe after 10th grade, or the end of high school if you're particularly shy. That would be me.&lt;br /&gt;So lets address it. The tickle-cuddle. I'll think of a better name later. But that move where you tickle us and so we get all squirmy and cute and you use it as a way to get in there and make a move because we're so incapacited buy your silly tickles we can't fight back. Yes, you know what i'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A. If I wanted to be that close to you, I would.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its simple. When this started in 8th grade, I was shyer, a bit meeker. Understandable, cause you were as well. It was cute, and it worked well to jumpstart the dating. But here's the thing. I'm not that shy anymore. I'm a flirt who loves hugs and cuddling. So really, if i wanted to be that close, I would be. So stop making me! This leads me to point B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;B. Hey, Godzilla.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not the largest girl you'll come across. I'm 5'4. Don't call me short, it's fun sized. (For some reason the phrase funsized reminds me cupcakes. Who doesn't like cupcakes?) But unless i've entered into a parallel universe when I like my boys short and scrawny, you're bigger than me. Much bigger. Hence, when you start with your "tickles" (the use of quotations will be promptly explained in C.) I don't really have a choice. I lose. Your giant mass of a body will engulf me in a awkward cuddle because I have no choice! You win. And I usually give in so that I don't have to be tickled. Which clearly brings me to the most dreaded part of this 10 minute incident of uncomfortableness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C. Fella, that's not tickling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tickling. Who invented tickling? Why do people tickle? Hypothetical, don't get all scientific on me. And yeah, you bet i'm ticklish. Pedicures send tickles up and down my body and I embarrasingly giggle to myself. But what you're doing, is not tickling. You only think it's tickling. It's mostly just hurting. Tickling is much more gentle. You have to have soft movements, light and quick. But no! Not you! Maybe, you think, if i press harder, she'll giggle and laugh and get closer. NO! you press harder, it hurts. I've had people "tickle" who left bruises. You're kind of just poking and stabbing at my stomach. Awesome!! Keep it up. Really. I'll like you more if you do. (Just because the internet can be a bit unclear...that was sarcasm).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all, theres my complaint. Don't get me wrong. I love boys. I love kissing boys. I just...think some should try new tactics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs Teasley on Beverly Hills 90210 has crazy long shaniqua nails. Random, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hates it &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-703904120436228831?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/703904120436228831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=703904120436228831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/703904120436228831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/703904120436228831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2008/10/your-tickles-pain-me.html' title='Your tickles pain me.'/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-132045101724976047</id><published>2008-10-08T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T19:59:01.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#33FFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-132045101724976047?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/132045101724976047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=132045101724976047' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/132045101724976047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/132045101724976047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-may-love-you-but-i-dont-have-to-like.html' title=''/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667930593897527931.post-3725249047403399849</id><published>2008-10-07T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T19:58:27.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4667930593897527931-3725249047403399849?l=ajmy137.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/feeds/3725249047403399849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4667930593897527931&amp;postID=3725249047403399849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/3725249047403399849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4667930593897527931/posts/default/3725249047403399849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajmy137.blogspot.com/2008/10/autumn-of-our-discontent.html' title=''/><author><name>a.j.m.y*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00010531173185952085</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BY51suo47YQ/SOxSewAv5eI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pQsIejLq1lE/S220/boobs2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
