<?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-6629869704309115578</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:20:00.089-05:00</updated><category term='listmania'/><category term='culturephile'/><category term='40X365'/><category term='Guest'/><title type='text'>Eating Bears</title><subtitle type='html'>This is basically a blog about me eating bears. Euphemistically of course. This is also a blog about me not getting eaten by bears. They may bite me, but they will not eat me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4875462819683879277</id><published>2008-06-16T10:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:33.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Going away present</title><content type='html'>I have two weeks left at my job. Sad isn't a strong enough word to describe how I feel about it. Forlorn maybe. It's not a bad thing. I am really excited about the next phase in my life, and I think my sadness about leaving is a testament to how wonderful my last five years have been and how happy I have been at my job. I work with the kindest and most loyal people imaginable. I'm at an age where most of my friends have a job for one or two years, an apartment for one or two years, and then move to the next thing, be that a new city, grad school, new job, whatever. But I was lucky enough to find a great life right after college, one that I wanted to stick with as long as reasonable. And the time has come to move on. And I am ready, but I am sad to let go too. I've always been pretty sentimental. Once when I was younger (though old enough that it was weird), my mom sold a car that she owned for a really long time. I sat in the garage with the car and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sobbed &lt;/span&gt;for hours. I grow attached very easily and perhaps leaving a job or an apartment reminds me of all the other things that might also get left behind intentionally or unintentionally. To save this post from entering the overly sappy category, I leave you with the parting gift my building gave to me today. Three pigeons on my office windowsill doing it. A pigeon orgy. It was a sight to behold, one that I have never witnessed before, and I really wish I would have cleaned my windows at some point this year so that my pictures would have been less obscured. Actually, I didn't get a photo of them humping, they got camera shy and stopped. But I do have a photo of their post-coital chilling. I couldn't ask for a more appropriate send off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/SFaKAeHwx6I/AAAAAAAAAWs/7cQ27_Ym7nY/s1600-h/IMG_9084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/SFaKAeHwx6I/AAAAAAAAAWs/7cQ27_Ym7nY/s320/IMG_9084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212505359418181538" border="0" /&gt;\&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4875462819683879277?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4875462819683879277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4875462819683879277' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4875462819683879277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4875462819683879277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/06/going-away-present.html' title='Going away present'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/SFaKAeHwx6I/AAAAAAAAAWs/7cQ27_Ym7nY/s72-c/IMG_9084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5674506613749274203</id><published>2008-06-06T14:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T14:50:22.903-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culturephile'/><title type='text'>Top Ten Bonin' Songs- By Martin from Culturephiles</title><content type='html'>I was proud and honored to be invited to be – as far as I know – the first guest-poster on this, America's Favorite Blog. Eatingbears has been one of my favorites since its inception, so I am both thankful for the opportunity to post here, and hopeful that I will be able to live up to the high standards set by this blog's Mama Bear.&lt;br /&gt;All that aside, my solemn charge was to provide my Top Ten Bonin' Songs. That's a lofty goal, considering the vast numbers of songs out there, the various styles and types of bonin' (even more types/styles than just "fast" or "slow," if you can believe it!), and the different moods that might inspire one to bone. I realized pretty quickly I could either spend three weeks meticulously combing my music library, or just put together the songs that popped out at me as I scrolled through my trusty iPod. It will probably come as no surprise that I have opted for the latter, considerably less rigorous, method. So I guess I think of this as less of a strict Top Ten List and more of a Ten Great-Jumping-Off-Points List. In making this list, I've also found that I am much more of a slow, soulful bone-song guy than a fast-paced, rough-riding bone-song guy. For what it's worth. At any rate, without further ado, and in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayzhJKy8H_A"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stairway to Heaven&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Led Zepplin – My friend Joe, during a long van ride home to Chicago from Boston, described in graphic detail how he would make love to a woman to this song. I'm talking extremely graphic detail. For the ENTIRE song. That's no small feat, as it is a really long song. At any rate, I have always wanted to recreate his detailed lovemaking moves to this song. That probably won't ever happen, but I have to include this song on the list for that reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coldplay's breakthrough album "Parachutes" is a great bonin' album, and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGhauTPpSJo"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shiver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is probably the best bonin' song off of it. &lt;em&gt;Spies&lt;/em&gt; is actually a better song, but maybe not QUITE as good for bonin'. And &lt;em&gt;Sparks&lt;/em&gt; might even be a better bonin' song than &lt;em&gt;Shiver&lt;/em&gt;! Man, it's just a great album for bonin'. Too bad Coldplay will never do anything half as good ever again. (Yeah, I said it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhjmA0wIjOs"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fast as You Can&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Fiona Apple – I think this one is reasonably self-explanatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jf_zt_dIm0A"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Golden Age&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Beck - don't let it distract you that "Sea Change" is one of the saddest records ever made, seemingly about, I can only assume, an absolutely earth-shattering breakup. It's also one of the great late-night records of all time, and this is a great late night slow-bone song. But only for slow bonin' late at night; this isn't gonna pep you up for a sunny, afternoon quick-bone or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCgRk2HDyW8"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cayman Islands&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Kings of Convenience – this sweet, small song might be better suited for post-bonin' cuddling, but the gentle harmonies and lulling melody and exotic title/setting make for a great sunlit afternoon bone, when you can imagine yourself bonin' on the actual Cayman Islands. Unless you have really boned on the Cayman Islands, in which case a song by a Norwegian duo will probably do nothing to remind you of that experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oUN8b4n16g"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Evening on the Ground (Lilith's Song)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Iron &amp;amp; Wine – it's got an intensity and persistent drive that you need for bonin'. Also, there is a lyric "we were born to fuck each other one way or another" which, obviously, has more readings than just the obvious bonin' meaning, but you can't entirely discount the obvious bonin' meaning either!  (Also, my apologies: the only YouTube link I could find for this song is a "fanvid" for the deceased (but beloved?) tv show Roswell!  Wow, THAT makes me a bit uncomfortable with this pick.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AratTMGrHaQ"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hallelujah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Jeff Buckley – the somewhat obvious choice for long, slow, soulful, unbroken-eye-contact bonin'. Even though the song is primarily about the unendurable difficulty -- perhaps impossibility! -- of truly loving another person. (I am finding though, in creating this list, that good bonin' songs are much more about mood and sound than lyric. I guess that makes sense: who would pay attention to rhyme schemes and metaphors mid-bone?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtyhWo8qngk"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Moneymaker&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Rilo Kiley – it's got a down-and-dirty bass line, and some real kick-drum punch. Not all bonin' songs can be sensitive and tender. Lead singer Jenny Lewis successfully integrates suggestive moans into a song without quite sounding like Donna Summer in "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAD9DdtnKoQ"&gt;Love to Love You Baby&lt;/a&gt;" (which wouldn't be a bad bonin' song either, now that I think about it).  This video's emphasis on sad, tawdry porn isn't great, but the song by itself is pretty hot in a down &amp;amp; dirty way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTl0QEULDA8"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Secret Garden&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Springsteen – this song (and video, natch) makes me think of Renee Zellweger back in '96 when she was hot in a weird way, instead of being totally gross in a weird way, a la today. If it's a problem for your bonin' partner that you might be thinking of old-fashioned, weird-hot Zellweger while bonin' this might not be a good pick for you. Or if your bonin' partner has always thought that Zellweger was weird-gross (a valid contention, she's always been on the razor's edge).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZT_nrrpe8c"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nude&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, Radiohead – totally unintelligible, but moody and romantic and evocative. And the title is NUDE! Come ON! It's got to be good for bonin', even if I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what the song might actually be about.  Intimacy?  Emotional nakedness?  Nah.  Bonin'!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus Bone Track:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAfxi_5jOaM"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your Body is a Wonderland&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, John Mayer – just kidding! (Or am I?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NOTE FROM EATINGBEARS PUBLISHER: Points go to &lt;a href="http://culturephiles.blogspot.com"&gt;Martin&lt;/a&gt; for the most use of the word bone or any derivation in a single blog post. Well done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-5674506613749274203?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5674506613749274203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5674506613749274203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5674506613749274203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5674506613749274203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/06/top-ten-bonin-songs-by-martin-from.html' title='Top Ten Bonin&apos; Songs- By Martin from Culturephiles'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8480655350527205994</id><published>2008-06-06T14:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T14:54:09.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GUESTS!</title><content type='html'>Clearly I've been an uninspired blogger lately. Martin, from &lt;a href="http://culturephiles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Culturephiles&lt;/a&gt;, noted my blog's recent illness, and perhaps death, and suggested it needed reviving. Reviving indeed! This suggestion sparked what I think may be one of the greatest ideas ever created. In order to breath a little life into Eating Bears, I asked Martin to be the first of hopefully many guest bloggers on this site. He obliged, on the condition that I write a guest blog for him. We chose a topic that fit both of our blog themes, his being all things cultural and mine being general depravity, often in the form of lists, and came up with a top ten list of songs to bone to. We would each come up with our own list, including justifications, and share them on each others blog. I am really excited about this idea because I have a lot of blogs I read that are pretty fantastic, and I would love to get their action on my site. Plus, it might get me out of a little blogging while still placating my adoring fans...all 5 of you. So, if you have a blog, and I read it, just be ready for me to ask you to guest star on Eating Bears. And if you wish to publish under a pseudonym to protect your good name from the tarnish associated with this site, that could be possibly be arranged. You can check out my list at &lt;a href="http://culturephiles.blogspot.com/2008/06/guest-blogger-top-10-boning-songs.html"&gt;Culturephiles&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8480655350527205994?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8480655350527205994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8480655350527205994' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8480655350527205994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8480655350527205994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/06/guests.html' title='GUESTS!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3957006720077583710</id><published>2008-05-15T14:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T15:01:33.342-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Whose got the funk?</title><content type='html'>I am in a seriously funky mood today (maybe a little yesterday too). So, I honor of this funk (and maybe in an effort to get it out of my system) I am going to make a list of funky things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Funk (or more specifically things that gross me out or piss me off):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Feet (looking at them, touching them, anything having to do with them)&lt;br /&gt;2. Flip flops, especially on men, anywhere except the beach or a public shower (see above)&lt;br /&gt;3. Pepsi&lt;br /&gt;4. Popcorn kernels that get stuck forever in your teeth.&lt;br /&gt;5. Parking tickets for expired meters that are issued less than five minutes before you get there&lt;br /&gt;6. Prom hair&lt;br /&gt;7. Excessive horn honking&lt;br /&gt;8. Long finger nails on men&lt;br /&gt;9. Men in skinny jeans&lt;br /&gt;10. Doing dishes&lt;br /&gt;11. Ordering transcripts&lt;br /&gt;12. Flat pop&lt;br /&gt;13. Slow computers&lt;br /&gt;14. Expired milk, yogurt, sour cream, etc. (especially when you forget, and count on them being viable when you are planning your evening)&lt;br /&gt;15. Hummers (the car, not the BJ)&lt;br /&gt;16. Having to pee really bad, but not wanting to get out of your chair&lt;br /&gt;17. Menstruation&lt;br /&gt;18. Getting rained on when it's cold&lt;br /&gt;19. When women who play sports wear bows and ribbons in their hair&lt;br /&gt;20. Rhinestones&lt;br /&gt;21. Cigarettes&lt;br /&gt;22.  Movie theater bathrooms&lt;br /&gt;23. People chewing with their mouth open&lt;br /&gt;24. Gum smacking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to break my funk, I've been watching &lt;a href="http://seattlest.com/2008/05/13/tough_day_walk.php"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, thanks to &lt;a href="http://sweetjeebus.spaces.live.com/"&gt;Tina&lt;/a&gt;, and it has really been helping. Also, I'm getting pretty good at a lot of those moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, for no reason...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The thing I really would like to eat right now:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cream filled powdered dougnut&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-3957006720077583710?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3957006720077583710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3957006720077583710' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3957006720077583710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3957006720077583710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/05/whose-got-funk.html' title='Whose got the funk?'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4434105865381081540</id><published>2008-04-29T11:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T12:57:17.791-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Women's Locker Room: Vortex of Crazy</title><content type='html'>For the second day in a row there has been a woman in her mid fifties just sitting in the locker room for over an hour doing nothing. Both yesterday and today, she was there when I came in, and she was there when I left in the exact same position. Yesterday, she was in her underwear, eyes closed, headphones on, chin resting on chest, just sitting there. I almost went up to her yesterday to see if she was alright (ie. alive). But she was perched on a stool, and I figured if she was dead or unconscious, she would probably fall over. Today she was sitting on the couch in her swimsuit. Eyes closed, headphones on. She was there from the moment I got there to the time I left, doing the exact same thing. Here are some ideas I've been tossing around regarding what she might possibly be doing (not in order of likeliest).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Embracing an out of body experience&lt;br /&gt;2. Strengthening her core&lt;br /&gt;3. Trying to remember her locker combination&lt;br /&gt;4. Communing with the dead&lt;br /&gt;5. Getting the Led out&lt;br /&gt;6. Conducting a sit in to protest her monthly fee&lt;br /&gt;7. Air drying&lt;br /&gt;8. Listening to self hypnosis tapes&lt;br /&gt;9. Meditating&lt;br /&gt;10. Writing the great American novel in her head&lt;br /&gt;11. Practicing telepathy with her hubby in the men's locker room&lt;br /&gt;12. Making everyone around her uncomfortable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been awhile since I went to the gym, so I am eager to see if this behavior continues (both the lady sitting without clothes for hours and my continued pursuit of health and fitness. Given her demonstrated commitment and dedication to whatever she is doing, I suggest placing money on her.).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4434105865381081540?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4434105865381081540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4434105865381081540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4434105865381081540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4434105865381081540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/womens-locker-room-vortex-of-crazy.html' title='Women&apos;s Locker Room: Vortex of Crazy'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8578230156375350546</id><published>2008-04-25T10:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T11:08:08.308-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Headspace: Thoughts 1-11</title><content type='html'>Thoughts that have been occupying my headspace lately (in no order of importance to me):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How nervous was Daniel Radcliffe when he performed full frontal nudity on stage after months of hype?&lt;br /&gt;  - What were his biggest fears? Not living up to size expectations? Becoming aroused? Cellulite?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Are there non virgins who have never had their boobs felt/ felt a boob?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Why is Tina Fey so funny and how can I become her? And if I cannot become her, how can I befriend her in a non creepy way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Why would anyone ever send me &lt;a href="http://blessedherbs.com/lp/lp3.php?s_cid=clensingcontent_31_4_001&amp;amp;af="&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; website (WARNING: Contains pictures of poo)? And why did I look at it twice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do people who use the internet for dating have something seriously wrong with them, and if so, does that mean that since I have used the internet for dating, I have something seriously wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Am I less charming in person than I think I am in my head (because that would explain a thing or two)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Why do dressing rooms ever, EVER, use harsh overhead lighting and mirrors that make you look anything other than 10 pounds lighter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. If I had to pick only one song to karaoke, would it be something from Led Zeppelin or would it be the Ying Yang Twins? Which would get more applause if I actually sang it with conviction and without gasping for breath?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Are there people who really like going to the dentist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Do anti-Semites hate matzo ball soup just on principle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. How weird will it be to dissect a human in medical school? Will it be weirder having my fellow classmates do &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osteopathic_manipulative_medicine"&gt;OMM&lt;/a&gt; on me? Especially when they have to touch my butt? Will it be weirder for me to do it on them? Will I want to be partnered with someone I'm attracted to, someone I'm unattracted to or someone of my same sex (attractive or not)? What if someone (especially me) passes gas during the process? Is there anything one could say (either the person who did the deed or who heard it) to make that less awkward and uncomfortable? Can you ask someone out on a date while you are manipulating their skeletal system? Does that fall into the category of creepy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free to provide answers to these questions. The more honest, the better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8578230156375350546?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8578230156375350546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8578230156375350546' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8578230156375350546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8578230156375350546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/headspace-thoughts-1-11.html' title='Headspace: Thoughts 1-11'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3658865802083827368</id><published>2008-04-22T10:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T10:32:02.784-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 37. A Man Without Love!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;37. A Man Without Love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can listen to this song over and over and still not get tired of it. I imagine it is an anthem for broken hearted, emotionally sensitive yet repressed men who need Engelbert Humperdinck’s words to truly express their loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Engelbert Humperdinck - A Man Without Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oKNTHjOjsvs&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oKNTHjOjsvs&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Man Without Love - From the Movie Cigarettes and Romance (starring James Gandolfini)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JSwrJHZERKc&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JSwrJHZERKc&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-3658865802083827368?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3658865802083827368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3658865802083827368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3658865802083827368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3658865802083827368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/40-x-365-37-man-without-love.html' title='40 X 365: 37. A Man Without Love!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-6977234869961884753</id><published>2008-04-15T12:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T12:38:49.954-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 36. Meringues!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;36. Meringues!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clouds of sugary bliss, why do I eat you until I’m ill? How do you pull me back for just one more? Is it because you are fat free? Maybe, but more likely it’s my total lack of self control.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-6977234869961884753?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/6977234869961884753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=6977234869961884753' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6977234869961884753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6977234869961884753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/40-x-365-36-meringues.html' title='40 X 365: 36. Meringues!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7691251900243917253</id><published>2008-04-02T15:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:45:04.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A weekend devoted to me!</title><content type='html'>So, I think it has become painfully obvious that I have fallen a little behind. Not to say I'm giving up on 40X365, but let's just say 365 may not happen in 365 days. Or ever. But I will try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I make an attempt to get back into it, I wanted to take a moment to recap what was probably the best weekend of my life, until now or ever. It was my birthday this past weekend and with the help of some friends, it was the event of my life. Actually, it was like my wedding, but without having to share the attention with a stupid groom.  My beautiful, sneaky, resourceful friend &lt;a href="http://sweetjeebus.spaces.live.com/"&gt;Tina&lt;/a&gt; flew in to celebrate with me. She took me out to eat at the most insanely intense restaurant I have ever been to where we enjoyed not one, not two, but 24 freaking courses. It was weird, it was delicious, it was awesome. Without my knowledge, Ms. Tina (who, I can't say this enough, went above and beyond the expectations of what a friend should do), along with Erin and Alexis and many others, planned the most incredible celebration ever. &lt;a href="http://ishouldbeinparis.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alexis&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.riseniddien.blogspot.com/"&gt;Erin&lt;/a&gt; (in the most decisive moment of their life) helped plan a dinner at a delicious Lebanese restaurant complete with belly dancer. Man, do they know me (after 17 and 13 years, they better. What's more incredible, they still like me after all that time). Erin, despite not using the penis mold I specifically requested,  made a 600 calorie a slice s'mores cake that will be served at my actual wedding. Then we went to this funky ass lounge Tina found where I was greeted by 30 of my closest friends. Seriously, I have never felt more loved in my life. My wonderful old roommates Nemo and Matt trekked from out of town to be there. I danced like a fool, drank entirely too much, and have 129 incriminating photos of myself and many others. I have realized that I have the best friends anyone could ever ask for and I am a really lucky duck. To those of you who were there and read this, I love you, and can't begin to thank you enough. I've never felt so special, and no group of people could ever make me feel as good. I should have a birthday every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can understand after an event like this, it is hard to get back to my favorite things, because they were all encompassed in one weekend and 40 words isn't nearly enough to express just how awesome it was. This was a brief and superficial synopsis, but any attempt to dig deeper or share more would cheapen it. Thanks with all of my bloody, beating heart is all I can say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: As all of this was planned without my knowledge, I have only heard bits and pieces of who planned what and how it came together. If I credited anyone incorrectly, or worse, didn't give credit where credit was due, I apologize. You all were just too crafty and successful in putting me off your scent and too humble to ever own up to what you did. All the same, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7691251900243917253?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7691251900243917253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7691251900243917253' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7691251900243917253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7691251900243917253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/weekend-devoted-to-me.html' title='A weekend devoted to me!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-2492595153615608564</id><published>2008-04-02T12:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:27:23.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottomless Basket of Awesome</title><content type='html'>In accordance with my favorite things, my clever, beautiful friend Lara made me a birthday present consisting of ...my favorite things. The best part? She knew many things that I hadn't even posted about, and even got a few that later became posts (she bought them before I wrote about them). The contents of the most incredible basket ever:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many coke zeros&lt;br /&gt;Many boxes of peeps&lt;br /&gt;Nag Champa insense&lt;br /&gt;Gift Certificate to Tapas&lt;br /&gt;Three deluxe chocolate bars&lt;br /&gt;Pachouli soap (that's specifically not just for hippies!)&lt;br /&gt;Body scrub that smells like heaven&lt;br /&gt;Bubble bath that smells like cookies&lt;br /&gt;Aveda body wash, shampoo and conditioner&lt;br /&gt;Two bite brownies from Whole Foods&lt;br /&gt;The first season of the Office&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest card ever&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful woven basket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually feel like I am leaving some stuff out, but that is just how overflowing with wonderfulness this thing was. Lara is a new mom and the fact that she had time to put this together blows me away. I don't know what I did to deserve this (most days I feel like I want to kidnap her baby) but I'll take it. Actually, she gave this to me a few days before my birthday and within three days the peeps, brownies, 2 chocolate bars and coke zeros were gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-2492595153615608564?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/2492595153615608564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=2492595153615608564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/2492595153615608564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/2492595153615608564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/04/bottomless-basket-of-awesome.html' title='Bottomless Basket of Awesome'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7836986505590047953</id><published>2008-03-20T16:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:34.403-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 35. Peeps!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;35. Peeps!   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Marshmallow heaven, I delight in you most when you look like a freshly sprung chick. On what Jesus gave us I’m not entirely clear, but on the basis that Easter is celebrated by gorging on peeps clearly he is awesome.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R-LUxJXjoXI/AAAAAAAAAUs/lOlcyRsC-ks/s1600-h/3+little+peeps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R-LUxJXjoXI/AAAAAAAAAUs/lOlcyRsC-ks/s320/3+little+peeps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179936462222893426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3 Little Peeps, all in a row.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7836986505590047953?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7836986505590047953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7836986505590047953' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7836986505590047953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7836986505590047953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-35-peeps.html' title='40 X 365: 35. Peeps!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R-LUxJXjoXI/AAAAAAAAAUs/lOlcyRsC-ks/s72-c/3+little+peeps.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8780493108272334614</id><published>2008-03-13T14:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:34.564-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 34. Friends You've Known Since Childhood!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;34. Friends You’ve Known Since  Childhood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;They knew you with braces and  bad perms and neon clothing and pimples and jealousy and parachute pants  and no taste in music and insecurity and violent tendencies and pettiness  and puberty. And despite it all they still like you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mF5v62cLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/iRuWkess2AA/s1600-h/metal+mouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mF5v62cLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/iRuWkess2AA/s320/metal+mouth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177316473801437362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I may look awkward with my braces now, Tiffany, but just you wait. Once this perm grows out and I get my retainer &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; will be the popular one. In fact, I noticed my training bra was feeling a little tight lately.  Womanhood here I come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8780493108272334614?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8780493108272334614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8780493108272334614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8780493108272334614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8780493108272334614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-34-friends-youve-known-since.html' title='40 X 365: 34. Friends You&apos;ve Known Since Childhood!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mF5v62cLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/iRuWkess2AA/s72-c/metal+mouth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5663029558696440086</id><published>2008-03-13T14:38:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:34.851-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 33. Chicago</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;33. Chicago!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;Driving down Lake Shore Drive,  I imagine curling up under your concrete and being tucked in for the  night. To be honest, I am pretty proud we are the fattest city. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;We love  life and sausages here with equal abandon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The Beautiful Sights of Chicago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mDbf62cII/AAAAAAAAAUM/YE_xOBTFXUE/s1600-h/in+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mDbf62cII/AAAAAAAAAUM/YE_xOBTFXUE/s320/in+love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177313755087138946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lake Michigan, Lake Shore Drive,  the skyline...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mEk_62cKI/AAAAAAAAAUc/5N1HS9s9_Qg/s1600-h/length+before+girth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mEk_62cKI/AAAAAAAAAUc/5N1HS9s9_Qg/s320/length+before+girth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177315017807524002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...and big, fat dudes with encased meat. What's not to love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-5663029558696440086?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5663029558696440086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5663029558696440086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5663029558696440086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5663029558696440086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-33-chicago.html' title='40 X 365: 33. Chicago'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9mDbf62cII/AAAAAAAAAUM/YE_xOBTFXUE/s72-c/in+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7273107432064633998</id><published>2008-03-13T14:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T14:38:52.059-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 32. Craigslist!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;32. Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;Erotic encounters, casual connections,  free stuff and rants and raves can keep me occupied for hours. Where  else can you find a houseboy to clean your apartment naked for free?  By God, one day I will have a missed connection.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7273107432064633998?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7273107432064633998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7273107432064633998' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7273107432064633998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7273107432064633998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-32-craigslist.html' title='40 X 365: 32. Craigslist!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7274725161915943666</id><published>2008-03-13T09:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T09:59:18.529-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You can get a lot of reading done in 2 years.</title><content type='html'>This article was in the Chicago Tribune yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Boyfriend: Woman Lived in Bathroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span class="story-byline"&gt;By ROXANA HEGEMAN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;|&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="story-titleline"&gt;Associated Press Writer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="story-dateline"&gt;&lt;dd&gt;5:46 AM CDT, March 13, 2008&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                        &lt;div style="text-align: center;" id="module-article-tools"&gt;     &lt;div id="list-box"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;     &lt;div class="sponsor-logo-box"&gt;         &lt;script language="JavaScript" src="http://ad.doubleclick.net/adj/trb.chicagotribune/news/natworld;ptype=s;slug=sns-ap-woman-in-bathroom;rg=ur;ref=googlecom;pos=1;sz=88x31;tile=2;ord=83495322?" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://ad.doubleclick.net/click;h=v8/3682/0/0/%2a/z;44306;0-0;0;12925735;21-88/31;0/0/0;;%7Eokv=;ptype=s;slug=sns-ap-woman-in-bathroom;rg=ur;ref=googlecom;pos=1;sz=88x31;tile=2;%7Esscs=%3f"&gt;&lt;img src="http://m1.2mdn.net/viewad/817-grey.gif" alt="Click here to find out more!" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;noscript&gt;&lt;/noscript&gt;     &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                                &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" id="story-body-parent"&gt;                         &lt;p id="story-body"&gt;WICHITA, Kan. - A 35-year-old woman who sat on her boyfriend's toilet for so long that her body was stuck to the seat by the time he called police had a phobia about leaving the bathroom, the boyfriend said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She is an adult; she made her own decision," said her boyfriend, Kory McFarren. "I should have gotten help for her sooner; I admit that. But after a while, you kind of get used to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The case drew nationwide attention after Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple said it appeared the Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat in the two years she apparently was in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;                                          &lt;!-- END rail --&gt;                     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" id="story-body-parent2"&gt;                         &lt;p id="story-body2"&gt; "We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital," Whipple said. "The hospital removed it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McFarren, 36, said he can't be certain how long Pam Babcock stayed in the bathroom because "time just went by so quick I can't pinpoint how long." He said beatings she received in her childhood caused her phobia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It just kind of happened one day; she went in and had been in there a little while, the next time it was a little longer. Then she got it in her head she was going to stay -- like it was a safe place for her," McFarren said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But McFarren said she moved around in the bathroom during that time, bathed and changed into the clothes he brought her. He brought food and water to her. They had conversations and had an otherwise normal relationship -- except it all happened in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McFarren said he finally called police Feb. 27 after he became worried because Babcock was acting groggy -- like she didn't know what was going on, except she was awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What emergency responders found when they went into bathroom has left residents of this small western &lt;a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/topic/us/kansas-PLGEO100102300000000.topic" title="Kansas"&gt;Kansas&lt;/a&gt; town buzzing, and law enforcement officials incredulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police found the clothed woman sitting on the toilet, her sweat pants down to mid-thigh. She was "somewhat disoriented," and her legs looked like they had atrophied, Whipple said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body," Whipple said. "It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She initially refused emergency medical services, but was finally convinced by responders and her boyfriend that she needed to be checked out at a hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She said that she didn't need any help, that she was OK and did not want to leave," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whipple said the county attorney will determine whether any charges should be filed against McFarren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McFarren, who works at an antique store, said he has been taking care of Babcock for the 16 years they have lived together. He insisted that he tried to coax her out of the bathroom every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And her reply would be, `Maybe tomorrow,'" Whipple said. "According to him, she did not want to leave the bathroom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was reported in fair condition Wednesday at a hospital in Wichita, about 150 miles southeast of Ness City. Whipple said she has refused to cooperate with medical providers or law enforcement investigators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babcock has an infection in her legs that has damaged her nerves, and there is a possibility she may wind up in a wheelchair, McFarren said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James Ellis, a neighbor, said he had known the woman since she was a child, but that he had not seen her for at least six years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think anybody can make any sense out of it," Ellis said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babcock had a tough childhood after her mother died at a young age and apparently was usually kept inside the house as she grew up, he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It really doesn't surprise me," Ellis said. "What surprises me is somebody wasn't called in a bit earlier."&lt;/p&gt;                     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far be it for me to judge other people's decisions and lives, but this article leaves me with a few questions.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  1. What did the boyfriend think after two weeks of this behavior?&lt;br /&gt;  2. Why did he continue to feed her while she was on the toilet?&lt;br /&gt;  3. Where did he go to the bathroom &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(question provided by Steak, thanks!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  4. What did she do all day?&lt;br /&gt;      A. Did she read?&lt;br /&gt;           1. Magazines?&lt;br /&gt;           2. Novels?&lt;br /&gt;           3. Text books?&lt;br /&gt;           4. Autobiographies?&lt;br /&gt;      B. Did she write?&lt;br /&gt;           1. Fiction?&lt;br /&gt;           2. A diary, later to be turned into an autobiography?&lt;br /&gt;           3. Fan letters?&lt;br /&gt;      C. Did she watch TV?&lt;br /&gt;           1. Was the TV already in there?&lt;br /&gt;                a. Did she bring the TV in there in preparation?&lt;br /&gt;                b. Did the boyfriend bring the TV in to make her more comfortable?&lt;br /&gt;            2. Did she watch TV shows?&lt;br /&gt;            3. Did she watch DVDs?&lt;br /&gt;       D. Did she knit?&lt;br /&gt;  5. Did she not have other friends and family who were worried about not seeing her for 2 years?&lt;br /&gt;      A. And if they knew where she was, why did they not call someone?&lt;br /&gt;  6. What kind of meals did she eat?&lt;br /&gt;  7. Did they take her to the hospital with the toilet seat still attached to her ass?&lt;br /&gt;  8. How does an ass grow into a toilet seat?&lt;br /&gt;  9. Did her and the boyfriend have conversations while she was sitting there?&lt;br /&gt;  10. Did people come over to visit the house?&lt;br /&gt;        A. If they did, what explanation was given about the situation?&lt;br /&gt;  11. How did the paramedics keep a straight face when they saw this?&lt;br /&gt;  12. What was their call into the hospital like?&lt;br /&gt;  13. What was the straw that broke the camels back and made the boyfriend take action after two years!&lt;br /&gt;  14. After two years, did he even remember she was in there?&lt;br /&gt;  15. Why did this lady decide to stay on the toilet, and not lay in bed?&lt;br /&gt;  16. When she went in there and sat down, did she knew she'd be staying indefinitely?&lt;br /&gt;  17. Did she change her clothes in all this time? Or was it the same sweatpants around her ankles when she came out as when she went in?&lt;br /&gt;  18. Did the couple celebrate their anniversaries in the bathroom together?&lt;br /&gt;  19 And holidays?! What did they do during the holidays?&lt;br /&gt;  20. Did they have conversations that consisted of anything else besides, "Honey, do you think today is the day you are going to get off the toilet?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  This could go on and on. And sadly, I will probably never know the answers to most of these questions. But I guess, what's life without a little mystery?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7274725161915943666?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7274725161915943666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7274725161915943666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7274725161915943666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7274725161915943666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-can-get-lot-of-reading-done-in-2.html' title='You can get a lot of reading done in 2 years.'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3354459470167043635</id><published>2008-03-11T13:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:35.205-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 31. The Big Lebowski!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;31. The Big Lebowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Dude and Walter, you hirsute,  profanity spewing, husky, philosophical, sensitive, lovable men. Your  story draws me in every time and for some inexplicable reason makes  me feel at home. That rug really did tie the room together, did it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bTqv62cGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/PY_rAzBRhUE/s1600-h/no+toe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bTqv62cGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/PY_rAzBRhUE/s320/no+toe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176557553080234082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;His girlfriend gave up her toe. She thought we'd be getting million dollars! It's not fair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bUCf62cHI/AAAAAAAAAUE/UOu4L1UPu4k/s1600-h/dude,+donny+and+walter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bUCf62cHI/AAAAAAAAAUE/UOu4L1UPu4k/s320/dude,+donny+and+walter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176557961102127218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Say what you want about the tenets of national socialism, dude. At least it's an ethos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-3354459470167043635?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3354459470167043635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3354459470167043635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3354459470167043635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3354459470167043635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-31-big-lebowski.html' title='40 X 365: 31. The Big Lebowski!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bTqv62cGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/PY_rAzBRhUE/s72-c/no+toe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8425586956008623129</id><published>2008-03-11T13:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:35.456-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 30. Skiing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;30. Skiing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;Glee is the only appropriate  word to describe the soaring sensation that is skiing. For no other  sport would I tolerate constant snot dripping down my nose. The parade  of loud, outdated fashion helps keep your mind off the cold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bSY_62cFI/AAAAAAAAAT0/-RC8NdSVHR0/s1600-h/1986.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bSY_62cFI/AAAAAAAAAT0/-RC8NdSVHR0/s320/1986.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176556148625928274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;1986 called. They want their clothing back.&lt;br /&gt;Also, that guys snowboard has the same pattern as they use on cardboard plates in cafeterias .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8425586956008623129?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8425586956008623129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8425586956008623129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8425586956008623129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8425586956008623129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-30-skiing.html' title='40 X 365: 30. Skiing!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9bSY_62cFI/AAAAAAAAAT0/-RC8NdSVHR0/s72-c/1986.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8315393143812008998</id><published>2008-03-08T15:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:35.600-06:00</updated><title type='text'>40 X 365: 29. Dinosaurs!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;29. Dinosaurs!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I sit and think about the fact that dinosaurs were real creatures roaming the earth and it blows my mind. Adult life doesn’t offer many opportunities to ponder the existence of these prehistoric beasts, and that’s a damn shame. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175488119108431938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="242" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9MHBf62cEI/AAAAAAAAATs/m0PzQvXwo2E/s320/me+and+my+friend.jpg" width="133" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If me and dinosaurs had existed in the same era, this would have been me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8315393143812008998?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8315393143812008998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8315393143812008998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8315393143812008998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8315393143812008998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-29-dinosaurs.html' title='40 X 365: 29. Dinosaurs!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9MHBf62cEI/AAAAAAAAATs/m0PzQvXwo2E/s72-c/me+and+my+friend.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4368439255224970966</id><published>2008-03-08T15:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:35.750-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 28. Scars!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;28. Scars!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;They’re little reminders of the life you’ve lead and the battles you’ve fought. An absence of scars suggests a lack of curiosity, a stunted childhood and an overall loss of opportunity. Plus, they imply rebelliousness without having to wear leather. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175486607279943730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="241" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9MFpf62cDI/AAAAAAAAATk/VJCBFvC3Joc/s320/bad+ass.jpg" width="151" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This guy is gonna have no problem getting panties.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4368439255224970966?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4368439255224970966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4368439255224970966' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4368439255224970966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4368439255224970966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-28-scars.html' title='40 X 365: 28. Scars!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9MFpf62cDI/AAAAAAAAATk/VJCBFvC3Joc/s72-c/bad+ass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5940176206750894937</id><published>2008-03-08T15:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T15:22:37.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>40 X 365: 27. Scabs!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;27. Scabs!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the people who cross picket lines, but the effects of your body healing a wound. You can see the repairs happening before your very eyes. And God help me if picking them isn’t the most satisfying experience on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't worry, I'm not going to put a big pussy picture of a scab. I'd like for you all to keep coming back.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-5940176206750894937?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5940176206750894937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5940176206750894937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5940176206750894937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5940176206750894937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-27-scabs.html' title='40 X 365: 27. Scabs!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3517490023538804149</id><published>2008-03-06T17:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:35.918-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 26. The Hungry Brain!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;26. The Hungry Brain!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With your abundance of seating (mostly old, worn out couches that might have been found on the street), flattering lighting, enviable juke box, sound beer selection and grungy men, how could I do anything but fall in love with you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B4ZBM1cDI/AAAAAAAAATQ/MXie48FIUfM/s1600-h/Brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 162px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B4ZBM1cDI/AAAAAAAAATQ/MXie48FIUfM/s320/Brain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174768343063031858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Kitsch done right.&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-3517490023538804149?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3517490023538804149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3517490023538804149' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3517490023538804149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3517490023538804149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-26-hungry-brain.html' title='40 X 365: 26. The Hungry Brain!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B4ZBM1cDI/AAAAAAAAATQ/MXie48FIUfM/s72-c/Brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-1074481721239343151</id><published>2008-03-06T16:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>40 X 365: 25. Money!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25. Money!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You usually smell bad, you are often filthy, sometimes you’re way to stiff and then other times you seem so fragile I feel like you’ll fall apart in front of me. And still can’t seem to get enough of you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B18RM1cCI/AAAAAAAAATI/M1c57y05Fgg/s1600-h/mo+money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B18RM1cCI/AAAAAAAAATI/M1c57y05Fgg/s320/mo+money.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174765650118537250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  My dirty money wedding dress. Says I'm classy and filthy rich without being obnoxious about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;* This 40 x 365 can also be titled "Man I will probably marry!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-1074481721239343151?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/1074481721239343151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=1074481721239343151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1074481721239343151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1074481721239343151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-25-money.html' title='40 X 365: 25. Money!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R9B18RM1cCI/AAAAAAAAATI/M1c57y05Fgg/s72-c/mo+money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-6654044060569770936</id><published>2008-03-05T13:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.266-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 24. A Clean Toilet in the Middle of the Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24. A Clean Toilet in the Middle of the Day! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the tell tale blue water and I think “JACKPOT!” It’s already 2:30p, yet no one has used this toilet today. There’s nothing like taking the inaugural pee in a sanitized toilet that escaped use for the entire day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8742BM1cBI/AAAAAAAAATA/EL9EW6W3HMc/s1600-h/blue+bowl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 170px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8742BM1cBI/AAAAAAAAATA/EL9EW6W3HMc/s320/blue+bowl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174346628814172178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;  Awesome any time of day. Awesomist at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-6654044060569770936?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/6654044060569770936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=6654044060569770936' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6654044060569770936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6654044060569770936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-24-clean-toilet-in-middle-of.html' title='40 X 365: 24. A Clean Toilet in the Middle of the Day!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8742BM1cBI/AAAAAAAAATA/EL9EW6W3HMc/s72-c/blue+bowl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-6822666225623209005</id><published>2008-03-04T14:32:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.381-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 23. Freckles!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23. Freckles!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nothing says youthful like a face full of freckles. I have a freckle conglomerate on my nose every summer from many year’s worth of burns. Admittedly, the line between delightfully tinted flesh and dangerous skin condition can sometimes be blurry. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R82y7RM1cAI/AAAAAAAAAS4/u5t7pPtAb1A/s1600-h/adorable.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 231px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R82y7RM1cAI/AAAAAAAAAS4/u5t7pPtAb1A/s320/adorable.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173988278217830402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Freckles: guaranteed to make anyone 73% more adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-6822666225623209005?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/6822666225623209005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=6822666225623209005' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6822666225623209005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6822666225623209005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-23-freckles.html' title='40 X 365: 23. Freckles!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R82y7RM1cAI/AAAAAAAAAS4/u5t7pPtAb1A/s72-c/adorable.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3574025843305769212</id><published>2008-03-03T15:03:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.561-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 22. America's Funniest Home Videos (or AFV, for those in the know)!</title><content type='html'>&lt;st1:country-region style="font-weight: bold;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;22. America's Funniest Home Videos!&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, you can be damn stupid, and you LOVE capturing it on video. And I LOVE watching it. Every fainting groom, crotch shot and ill advised endeavor. Bob Sagat and his big-haired  studio audience only ever brought you down.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xovRHK0tI/AAAAAAAAASw/nZwumJSPV0U/s1600-h/sagat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xovRHK0tI/AAAAAAAAASw/nZwumJSPV0U/s320/sagat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625233198469842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;A hex on you, Sagat, and your stupid voices and intros, for making America's Funniest Home Videos the joke of a show it is today (and not in the good way). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-3574025843305769212?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3574025843305769212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3574025843305769212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3574025843305769212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3574025843305769212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-22-americas-funniest-home.html' title='40 X 365: 22. America&apos;s Funniest Home Videos (or AFV, for those in the know)!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xovRHK0tI/AAAAAAAAASw/nZwumJSPV0U/s72-c/sagat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5718229585370187960</id><published>2008-03-03T14:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.788-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 21. Salt!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21. Salt!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh amplifier of flavor, enhancer of bland, there are few meals which you cannot make infinitely better. High blood pressure be damned! Sometimes, I wish I were a deer so sucking on a salt lick wouldn’t break with normative behavior.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xiKhHK0sI/AAAAAAAAASo/WgXWFzeZXlE/s1600-h/salt+lick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xiKhHK0sI/AAAAAAAAASo/WgXWFzeZXlE/s320/salt+lick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618004768510658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So. Jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-5718229585370187960?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5718229585370187960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5718229585370187960' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5718229585370187960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5718229585370187960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/03/40-x-365-21-salt.html' title='40 X 365: 21. Salt!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8xiKhHK0sI/AAAAAAAAASo/WgXWFzeZXlE/s72-c/salt+lick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7421059005356413292</id><published>2008-02-29T15:34:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:36.983-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Drop it like it's hawt.</title><content type='html'>My most recently watch videos on Youtube:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Swing: Savage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sgZOQVV-tmI"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sgZOQVV-tmI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T: Webbie feat. Lil' Boosie and Lil' Phat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9dMbBLR1X-o"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9dMbBLR1X-o" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Drop it like it's Hot: Snoop D. O. double G. feat. Pharrell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yp5uyHdnWPY"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yp5uyHdnWPY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poison: Bel Biv Devoe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TdF2zqs1bxQ"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TdF2zqs1bxQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bitch Please: Snoop Dogg Feat. Nate Dogg and Xzibit &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EBMaYLrl3mU"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EBMaYLrl3mU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Low: Flo Rida Feat. T-Pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ayEILTPCRUA"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ayEILTPCRUA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pop, Lock and Drop it: Huey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YniDowiAHGE"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YniDowiAHGE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'll Be Dat: Redman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kc9JOiyfy14"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kc9JOiyfy14" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, it's been a booty poppin' dance party all day. Anyone else ready to shake their shit this weekend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8iG5BHK0rI/AAAAAAAAASg/dWAP5vaH5M8/s1600-h/I+guess+this+is+dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8iG5BHK0rI/AAAAAAAAASg/dWAP5vaH5M8/s320/I+guess+this+is+dancing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172532486144185010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This came up in an image search for "dancing bears". Dancing indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-7421059005356413292?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7421059005356413292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7421059005356413292' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7421059005356413292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7421059005356413292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/drop-it-like-its-hawt.html' title='Drop it like it&apos;s hawt.'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8iG5BHK0rI/AAAAAAAAASg/dWAP5vaH5M8/s72-c/I+guess+this+is+dancing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-1003912850267621385</id><published>2008-02-28T16:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:37.425-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 20. Girl Scout Cookies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. Girl Scout Cookies! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This may be more of a love/hate relationship, but damn, these cookies are good. Maybe it’s because they are created by combining the sweet, unspoiled nectar of youth, a creamy dash of capitalism and a healthy dose of chocolatey competition.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8czVMYxqxI/AAAAAAAAASQ/hcHa_bcK5Hc/s1600-h/samoa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8czVMYxqxI/AAAAAAAAASQ/hcHa_bcK5Hc/s320/samoa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172159136253717266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Samoas are my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8czbsYxqyI/AAAAAAAAASY/LMqCqsTGLPI/s1600-h/samoans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8czbsYxqyI/AAAAAAAAASY/LMqCqsTGLPI/s320/samoans.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172159247922866978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not to be confused with Samoans, which seems pretty great too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-1003912850267621385?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/1003912850267621385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=1003912850267621385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1003912850267621385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1003912850267621385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-20-girl-scout-cookies.html' title='40 X 365: 20. Girl Scout Cookies!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8czVMYxqxI/AAAAAAAAASQ/hcHa_bcK5Hc/s72-c/samoa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-6785003975482327874</id><published>2008-02-27T14:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:37.728-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 19. The Man in Head to Toe Fur!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. The Man in Head to Toe Fur!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a fur fan, but this man gets credit for originality. Most people wouldn’t dress up like the King of the Ewoks and parade around in public. Here’s to not wasting anything including the ears and the paws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XNb8YxqvI/AAAAAAAAASA/pXaGgDHd4EY/s1600-h/ewok+king.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XNb8YxqvI/AAAAAAAAASA/pXaGgDHd4EY/s320/ewok+king.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171765627055090418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XNicYxqwI/AAAAAAAAASI/uGAnRuz8fVM/s1600-h/ewok+king,+profile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XNicYxqwI/AAAAAAAAASI/uGAnRuz8fVM/s320/ewok+king,+profile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171765738724240130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;I was in the lift line behind this gentleman during my recent ski trip. Things to note: The ears on the dead animal, the feet dangling, the goggles around the dead creatures body and the nonchalance of everyone else around him. I mean, he is a walking carcass for god's sake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-6785003975482327874?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/6785003975482327874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=6785003975482327874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6785003975482327874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/6785003975482327874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-19-man-in-head-to-toe-fur.html' title='40 X 365: 19. The Man in Head to Toe Fur!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XNb8YxqvI/AAAAAAAAASA/pXaGgDHd4EY/s72-c/ewok+king.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7519141195469164076</id><published>2008-02-27T11:03:00.015-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:38.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day, revisited.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;While it passed a little bit ago, I wanted to give everyone a heads up on my valentine's day. It was pretty much the "&lt;a href="http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/01/paying-for-affection.html"&gt;I am my own lover&lt;/a&gt;" day I predicted. I did receive a few valentines though, so I wasn't totally alone. First, I received the obligatory card from my parents. Touching, really. Then I received a beautifully wrapped package from a certain gentleman caller that was right up my alley (not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;package or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;alley, you pervs). It was the first season of 30 Rock and I have now seen every episode at least three times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XG0MYxqtI/AAAAAAAAARw/CUiw9ohX4nE/s1600-h/30+rockstar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XG0MYxqtI/AAAAAAAAARw/CUiw9ohX4nE/s320/30+rockstar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171758347085523666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tina Fey plus Alec Baldwin equals romance to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got my wonderful package of goodies from &lt;a href="http://dc-days.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alix&lt;/a&gt;, my Valetine's Day swap partner. I am a turd and didn't take pictures, but I covered most bases with the help of the internet. Her package to me included:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Valentine's Day Pez dispenser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WfccYxqqI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ihj2XLa0vps/s1600-h/pez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WfccYxqqI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ihj2XLa0vps/s200/pez.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171715058110147234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I ate all three packages of pez from the dispenser, by mys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;elf, in one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A bath salt wonderfulness from lush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WfBMYxqpI/AAAAAAAAARQ/MEatvlmFO_4/s1600-h/lush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 130px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WfBMYxqpI/AAAAAAAAARQ/MEatvlmFO_4/s200/lush.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171714589958711954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The item I received was heart shaped, but you get the gist. It smelled like heaven and made my skin so smooth my ass didn't itch from dryness for the first t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ime this whole winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A rubber duckie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8We4cYxqoI/AAAAAAAAARI/kPh1RZf2TL4/s1600-h/ducks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8We4cYxqoI/AAAAAAAAARI/kPh1RZf2TL4/s200/ducks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171714439634856578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This little guy did indeed make bath time lots of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fun. Lots and lots of fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And raspberry white chocolate from Starbucks and a beautiful bookmark, neither of which I could find pictures of on the internet. The chocolate was also inhaled the first day and the bookmark is placed firmly in my current read. Alix deserves some serious credit for these presents that really made my day.&lt;br /&gt;I also received a specatacular &lt;a href="http://ishouldbeinparis.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-first-gocco.html"&gt;Valentine&lt;/a&gt; from my dear friend &lt;a href="http://www.ishouldbeinparis.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alexis&lt;/a&gt;. It was handmade, sweet and gave me something to chew for the last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8Whb8YxqrI/AAAAAAAAARg/KjFo_6xMUyg/s1600-h/Valentine%27s+day.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 185px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8Whb8YxqrI/AAAAAAAAARg/KjFo_6xMUyg/s200/Valentine%27s+day.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171717248543468210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Nothing says I love you like a box full of candy hearts all saying "I love you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Last, but not least, &lt;a href="http://sweetjeebus.spaces.live.com/"&gt;Miss Vu&lt;/a&gt; sent me love in the form of pomegranate jelly bellys. Following a familiar pattern, the bag was consumed within an hour. They were as delicious as was the sentiment behind them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WixcYxqsI/AAAAAAAAARo/Nc52r-vKcPE/s1600-h/pom+jelly+belly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WixcYxqsI/AAAAAAAAARo/Nc52r-vKcPE/s200/pom+jelly+belly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171718717422283458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just as delicious as the real thing, but without the risk of staining everything within a 15 yard radius red.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a nice little set up for myself. I took my mini tv and dvd player into my bathroom, set it on my toilet, angled it so that I could see it while in the tub, then plugged it in. I got myself two beers and some chocolate and set them within easy reach of the tub. I filled up the bath with warm water and the bath stuff and duckie from alix. I popped in the 30 Rock from gentleman caller, pressed play, got in the tub and enjoyed one hell of an evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XI0sYxquI/AAAAAAAAAR4/p-LmovB_dEM/s1600-h/bathtime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XI0sYxquI/AAAAAAAAAR4/p-LmovB_dEM/s320/bathtime.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171760554698713826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is me enjoying my bath. Only, you know, way hotter. And without a dvd remote in one hand and a beer in the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The only problem was, after two beers, the bladder was a bit full, and it was a little unwieldy trying to quickly move the tv/dvd off my toilet with slippery hands, all the while trying not to electrocute myself. The mission was accomplished, but there were a couple of close calls. Overall, Valentine's Day was a great day this year. I will have to start working if I want to return it to the day of self loathing and pity it once was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7519141195469164076?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7519141195469164076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7519141195469164076' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7519141195469164076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7519141195469164076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-revisited.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day, revisited.'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8XG0MYxqtI/AAAAAAAAARw/CUiw9ohX4nE/s72-c/30+rockstar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3554140607666537595</id><published>2008-02-27T10:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:39.138-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 18. Red Meat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18. Red Meat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nothing spells delicious like a big, bloody, rare piece of beef. With the right spices and hot off the grill, I have been known to eat my weight in red meat. Make me this meal to perfection and I’m yours.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WTQ8YxqnI/AAAAAAAAARA/3Cer04FIHUE/s1600-h/drool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WTQ8YxqnI/AAAAAAAAARA/3Cer04FIHUE/s200/drool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171701666402118258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I just drooled on my keyboard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-3554140607666537595?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3554140607666537595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3554140607666537595' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3554140607666537595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3554140607666537595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-18-red-meat.html' title='40 X 365: 18. Red Meat!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8WTQ8YxqnI/AAAAAAAAARA/3Cer04FIHUE/s72-c/drool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7924245305085703721</id><published>2008-02-26T10:26:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:40.020-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 17. Facial Hair! (preferably on men)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17. Facial Hair!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is something about a man with facial hair that makes me weak in the knees. They exude ruggedness and masculinity. You can exfoliate while making out. Plus, I hear they are eager pleasers, if you know what I mean.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fine men made finer by facial hair:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ryan Gosling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-GcYxqgI/AAAAAAAAAQI/MV8nESaulrQ/s1600-h/gosling+beard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-GcYxqgI/AAAAAAAAAQI/MV8nESaulrQ/s200/gosling+beard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171396921292597762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There are no words needed here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;George Clooney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-VMYxqhI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/0UQXvmblFBU/s1600-h/clooney+beard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-VMYxqhI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/0UQXvmblFBU/s200/clooney+beard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171397174695668242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm not even a Clooney fan, but his hotness cannot be denied with that salt and pepper around his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jason Lee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-msYxqiI/AAAAAAAAAQY/_j-ITX5IMUY/s1600-h/lee+mustache.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-msYxqiI/AAAAAAAAAQY/_j-ITX5IMUY/s200/lee+mustache.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171397475343378978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I admit the hillbilly look might not be for everyone, but this 'stache brings out Jason's inner redneck and I like it. Don't judge me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jeff Bridges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R_CsYxqjI/AAAAAAAAAQg/E8lYebsHkcM/s1600-h/the+dude.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R_CsYxqjI/AAAAAAAAAQg/E8lYebsHkcM/s200/the+dude.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171397956379716146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you want to track the origin of my beard fetish, look no further. Actually, as I'm typing this, I realize you can probably trace my overall taste in men back to the Dude, which, frankly, is pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Peter Sarsgaard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8SHgsYxqmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/rD5qRf_i6sE/s1600-h/sarsgaard+beard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8SHgsYxqmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/rD5qRf_i6sE/s200/sarsgaard+beard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171407267868813922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;OK, I'm getting a little nervous here. I realize I first fell in love with Peter in Garden State where he played a pot smoking, living at home with his mom, grave digging loser. But he did not have a beard in that role. He is infinitely hotter here. And more distinguished. And successful. Seriously, I'm not attracted to losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seth Rogen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R_T8YxqlI/AAAAAAAAAQw/tI7KfME7iTs/s1600-h/rogen+facial+hair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R_T8YxqlI/AAAAAAAAAQw/tI7KfME7iTs/s200/rogen+facial+hair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171398252732459602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I hereby declare my love and fidelity for Seth Rogen. You hear me Seth? Oh the things I would do for you and your facial hair. I'd shampoo it. I'd itch it. I wouldn't even complain much if you left clippings in the sink. I'm going to stop because I guarantee Seth will get his own 40 X 365, but let the record show I love him. And this picture is a two for because you see the hotness of bearded Paul Rudd on his shirt compared to the less hot beardless Paul in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-7924245305085703721?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7924245305085703721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7924245305085703721' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7924245305085703721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7924245305085703721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-17-facial-hair-preferably-on.html' title='40 X 365: 17. Facial Hair! (preferably on men)'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8R-GcYxqgI/AAAAAAAAAQI/MV8nESaulrQ/s72-c/gosling+beard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8226273582418758127</id><published>2008-02-25T16:14:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:40.318-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 16. Pit Bulls!</title><content type='html'>16. Pit Bulls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sure, they have a bad reputation, but for a loyal, cuddly and playful dog, look no further than the noble American Staffordshire terrier. Nothing feels sweeter than a Pit curled up against you, its life complete just being near you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8NAiMYxqdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/6b13MW5Dorg/s1600-h/radley1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8NAiMYxqdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/6b13MW5Dorg/s200/radley1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171047753336334802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How could you not love that face?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8NAosYxqeI/AAAAAAAAAP4/Gsrd2RMASZg/s1600-h/radley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8NAosYxqeI/AAAAAAAAAP4/Gsrd2RMASZg/s200/radley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171047865005484514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;And Jon Stewart owns two! Can Jon Stewart be wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8226273582418758127?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8226273582418758127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8226273582418758127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8226273582418758127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8226273582418758127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-16-pit-bulls.html' title='40 X 365: 16. Pit Bulls!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8NAiMYxqdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/6b13MW5Dorg/s72-c/radley1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4659366419278556652</id><published>2008-02-25T11:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:40.544-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 15. Prosciutto!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15. Prosciutto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salty, piggy goodness. I have never eaten a better sandwich than prosciutto and queso manchego. Don’t even get me started on the divinity that is prosciutto wrapped cantaloupe balls. When I die, just wrap me in a shroud of prosciutto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8L8_sYxqcI/AAAAAAAAAPo/P1GemYfJYAI/s1600-h/prosciutto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8L8_sYxqcI/AAAAAAAAAPo/P1GemYfJYAI/s200/prosciutto.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170973493351786946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;  Thank you, piggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4659366419278556652?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4659366419278556652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4659366419278556652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4659366419278556652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4659366419278556652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-15-prosciutto.html' title='40 X 365: 15. Prosciutto!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8L8_sYxqcI/AAAAAAAAAPo/P1GemYfJYAI/s72-c/prosciutto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4956505920486029784</id><published>2008-02-25T10:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:40.685-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X365: 14. Daniel Day-Lewis!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14. Daniel Day-Lewis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How is it that you can completely transform yourself in every role you play? And why am I so attracted to you whenever you play a character with a big bushy mustache? I’ll drink &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; milkshake. I’ll drink it up!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8Lx28YxqbI/AAAAAAAAAPg/FROGV7ZutBc/s1600-h/daniel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8Lx28YxqbI/AAAAAAAAAPg/FROGV7ZutBc/s200/daniel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170961248400026034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now that's what I call a man. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4956505920486029784?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4956505920486029784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4956505920486029784' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4956505920486029784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4956505920486029784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x365-14-daniel-day-lewis.html' title='40 X365: 14. Daniel Day-Lewis!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R8Lx28YxqbI/AAAAAAAAAPg/FROGV7ZutBc/s72-c/daniel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-2058853343577857528</id><published>2008-02-16T20:50:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:40.985-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 13. Flea Markets!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. Flea Markets!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Corn on a stick? Check! Fat people in tight ass shorts? Check! A bin of doll heads? Check! Flea markets are pure &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Americana&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;: antiques, costume jewelry, weird collectables and fried foods. Or, to sum it up in one word: heaven.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7ehgcYxqaI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Mgw8t-QxUFQ/s1600-h/flea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7ehgcYxqaI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Mgw8t-QxUFQ/s200/flea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167776676178930082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  You mean, you are looking for a gently used stuffed monkey, hedgehog and duck? Well, my friend, you've come to the right place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-2058853343577857528?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/2058853343577857528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=2058853343577857528' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/2058853343577857528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/2058853343577857528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-13-flea-markets.html' title='40 X 365: 13. Flea Markets!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7ehgcYxqaI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Mgw8t-QxUFQ/s72-c/flea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8268633689672352212</id><published>2008-02-15T23:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T20:55:45.178-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 12. Tapas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;12. Tapas!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choosing is so overrated. Tapas, you give me the opportunity to choose over and over again. Patas Bravas? Don’t mind if I do. Queso de Cabra, if you had a car and the ability to pay bills, I’d marry you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8268633689672352212?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8268633689672352212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8268633689672352212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8268633689672352212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8268633689672352212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-12-tapas.html' title='40 X 365: 12. Tapas!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5165177031112221489</id><published>2008-02-15T14:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:41.187-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 11. Audiobooks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. Audiobooks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In traffic, I haven’t a care in the world as I’m read a story like in kindergarten. What more efficient use of time than hearing the classics, or Stephen King, read by someone imitating the voice of the opposite gender?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7X6NsYxqYI/AAAAAAAAAPI/4ue6Gks39zQ/s1600-h/langoliers.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7X6NsYxqYI/AAAAAAAAAPI/4ue6Gks39zQ/s200/langoliers.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167311260637833602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;  A favorite amongst favorites. I mean, can you seriously beat William DaFoe for a narrator? He could have been reading the back of a shampoo bottle and it would have been the best thing I ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-5165177031112221489?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5165177031112221489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5165177031112221489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5165177031112221489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5165177031112221489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-11-audiobooks.html' title='40 X 365: 11. Audiobooks!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7X6NsYxqYI/AAAAAAAAAPI/4ue6Gks39zQ/s72-c/langoliers.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5031212219803393674</id><published>2008-02-15T13:59:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:41.369-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 10. Gchat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Gchat!&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is there a better way of wasting time, forging relationships, flirting and conveying information than gchat? Who needs to talk to actual human beings and risk face to face humiliation when there are emoticons to take that risk for you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7XxgcYxqXI/AAAAAAAAAPA/sFk0Ja_rc7A/s1600-h/happiness.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7XxgcYxqXI/AAAAAAAAAPA/sFk0Ja_rc7A/s200/happiness.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167301687155730802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I care just enough about you to use you as a means for procrastination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6629869704309115578-5031212219803393674?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5031212219803393674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5031212219803393674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5031212219803393674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5031212219803393674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-10-gchat.html' title='40 X 365: 10. Gchat!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7XxgcYxqXI/AAAAAAAAAPA/sFk0Ja_rc7A/s72-c/happiness.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8811724317612631899</id><published>2008-02-15T13:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T14:33:18.113-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 9. Beef Barley Soup!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;9. Beef Barley Soup!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The day I spotted you in the middle school cafeteria, I knew we would have a long lasting relationship. While nothing is perfect, and I could do without your cooked carrots, your brain shaped barley wins me over every time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8811724317612631899?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8811724317612631899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8811724317612631899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8811724317612631899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8811724317612631899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-9-beef-barley-soup.html' title='40 X 365: 9. Beef Barley Soup!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4095506685000963669</id><published>2008-02-14T16:30:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:41.664-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranded</title><content type='html'>Good day Bears fans. I have been stranded in the wilderness of Vermont, thus the no posting and falling behind on 40 X 365. All will be rectified by this weekend. I know you've missed me. I know it has been painful. But with good communication and a little bit of tenderness, I know we will get passed this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have neglected you, here is a little valentine for your patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7TDK8YxqUI/AAAAAAAAAOo/5-cDKDS0ZiE/s1600-h/woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 176px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7TDK8YxqUI/AAAAAAAAAOo/5-cDKDS0ZiE/s200/woman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166969265276954946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7TDPMYxqVI/AAAAAAAAAOw/4lGQzxpe82Q/s1600-h/man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 278px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7TDPMYxqVI/AAAAAAAAAOw/4lGQzxpe82Q/s200/man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166969338291398994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A different kind of bare altogether. Hopefully, everyone can kind find something to enjoy here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4095506685000963669?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4095506685000963669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4095506685000963669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4095506685000963669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4095506685000963669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/stranded.html' title='Stranded'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R7TDK8YxqUI/AAAAAAAAAOo/5-cDKDS0ZiE/s72-c/woman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-8064386132381361099</id><published>2008-02-08T13:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:41.868-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 8. Coke Zero!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Coke Zero!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I switched from regular Coke to Diet it felt like leaving behind my best friend. When I discovered Coke Zero it was like I met someone who resembled my friend but was funnier, richer, more attractive AND calorie free.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6yy14Fwb7I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/6dvYt1G18Ms/s1600-h/coke+zero+is+delicious.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6yy14Fwb7I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/6dvYt1G18Ms/s200/coke+zero+is+delicious.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164699511346458546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-8064386132381361099?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/8064386132381361099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=8064386132381361099' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8064386132381361099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/8064386132381361099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-8-coke-zero.html' title='40 X 365: 8. Coke Zero!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6yy14Fwb7I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/6dvYt1G18Ms/s72-c/coke+zero+is+delicious.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4458977723997909193</id><published>2008-02-07T10:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:42.065-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 7. Making Out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Making Out!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is there any more pleasurable activity than making out like the ship was going down with someone you actually like? A little drool here, a little nip there. Granted, this assumes that your partner doesn’t attempt to eat your epiglottis.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6syx4Fwb4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/fKmOOD1sby8/s1600-h/eyes+open.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6syx4Fwb4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/fKmOOD1sby8/s200/eyes+open.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164277230161915778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;These kids are freak nasty. Not only are the nuded up, but they also have their eyes open! I guess this is how it goes before puberty unleashes a slew body insecurities that require both parties to keep their eyes squeezed shut and, for the love of god, the lights off (especially unforgiving florescent bathroom light)! Ahhh the innocence of youth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4458977723997909193?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4458977723997909193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4458977723997909193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4458977723997909193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4458977723997909193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-7-making-out.html' title='40 X 365: 7. Making Out!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6syx4Fwb4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/fKmOOD1sby8/s72-c/eyes+open.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7997517610879126030</id><published>2008-02-06T13:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:42.996-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 6. Fat Babies!</title><content type='html'>6. Fat Babies!  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fat babies make me feel like Lenny with the bunny. My first inclination is to gnaw on their chubby cheeks. Those thigh rolls call me to hold them and just squeeze tight. By the way, I’m always available to babysit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6oJaYFwb0I/AAAAAAAAANY/q7RgF22ElcQ/s1600-h/chubby+bubba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6oJaYFwb0I/AAAAAAAAANY/q7RgF22ElcQ/s200/chubby+bubba.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163950271481540418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;  Look at those arms rolls and tell me you don't want to chew them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7997517610879126030?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7997517610879126030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7997517610879126030' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7997517610879126030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7997517610879126030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-6-fat-babies.html' title='40 X 365: 6. Fat Babies!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6oJaYFwb0I/AAAAAAAAANY/q7RgF22ElcQ/s72-c/chubby+bubba.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-1049488047547280971</id><published>2008-02-05T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:43.212-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 5. Flannel!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Flannel!&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;In the ‘90’s flannel was the material to wear, regardless of the fact that it was rarely flattering and often tied around our waists. We were grunge and didn’t give a fuck. In ’08 my flannel and I still don’t.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6iDqYFwbzI/AAAAAAAAAM4/j7_-zyYIP-E/s1600-h/flannel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6iDqYFwbzI/AAAAAAAAAM4/j7_-zyYIP-E/s200/flannel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163521736824614706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  Fashion forward ladies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-1049488047547280971?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/1049488047547280971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=1049488047547280971' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1049488047547280971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1049488047547280971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-5-flannel.html' title='40 X 365: 5. Flannel!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6iDqYFwbzI/AAAAAAAAAM4/j7_-zyYIP-E/s72-c/flannel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-768876219330020646</id><published>2008-02-04T09:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T09:42:05.921-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 4. Spam Subjects!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Spam Subjects!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How delightful to start each emailing day with “Your dic’k size will never arouse a derision.” Just when I think they have stopped trying, I hit refresh and see “Bigger penis stimulates more nerve endings in female pussy.” I’ll say.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-768876219330020646?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/768876219330020646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=768876219330020646' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/768876219330020646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/768876219330020646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-4-spam-subjects.html' title='40 X 365: 4. Spam Subjects!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3084818651071985092</id><published>2008-02-03T22:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T22:13:37.577-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 3. Dancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;3. Dancing!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether I’m pop, lock and droppin’ or doing the robot, my body can’t help but move to whatever’s on the one’s and two’s. There may be less talent involved than I would like, but if I’m one thing it’s enthusiastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-3084818651071985092?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3084818651071985092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3084818651071985092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3084818651071985092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3084818651071985092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-3-dancing.html' title='40 X 365: 3. Dancing'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-5391508803283622147</id><published>2008-02-02T08:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:43.472-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X365: 2. Rap!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;2. Rap!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With its heavy bass and ass moving rhythms, hardcore rap had me at “Holla.” I just want to drop it low and twerk. Really, with lyrics like, “Keep that thang shakin’ like she frostbit shiverin’,” how can you go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162396343723912914" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6SEH4FwbtI/AAAAAAAAALY/TLQxjwBI6Bw/s200/rap+tasties.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Delicious, delicious rap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-5391508803283622147?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/5391508803283622147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=5391508803283622147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5391508803283622147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/5391508803283622147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-2-rap.html' title='40 X365: 2. Rap!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6SEH4FwbtI/AAAAAAAAALY/TLQxjwBI6Bw/s72-c/rap+tasties.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-1432903020692687883</id><published>2008-02-01T10:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T11:38:15.779-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='40X365'/><title type='text'>40 X 365: 1. Snow!</title><content type='html'>I recently read about these &lt;a href="http://www.logolalia.com/40x365/"&gt;projects&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://merrilyrolling.blogspot.com/2007/12/40x365-54-paul-m.html"&gt;people&lt;/a&gt; do where they pick a number of words and limit themselves to that number to write little things about people every day for 365 days (or entries). It seems like a good way to at least write something everyday, so I am going to try it on.  I picked 40 words because it seems like a popular number. Not too cumbersome. Also, I tend to get pretty wordy, so this will help me with the whole brevity thing. I don't really want to limit myself to only people, so I decided I will write 365 40-word entries on things I like. People, places, events, activities, food, etc. Now for number one.   &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;1. Snow!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I shuffle along blindly, wearing a maniacal grin, tongue sticking out to catch the flakes, laughing at the absurdity of everyone slipping around. All I want is to tackle strangers into the pristine banks then shove snow down their pants. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-1432903020692687883?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/1432903020692687883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=1432903020692687883' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1432903020692687883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/1432903020692687883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/40-x-365-1-snow.html' title='40 X 365: 1. Snow!'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-7744734827643772729</id><published>2008-02-01T09:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:43.690-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I sing the praises of All Wheel Mother Ucking* Drive.</title><content type='html'>What are the three most beautiful words in the English language? "You are right"? "Comes with fries"? "I prefer cuddling"? Wrong, wrong, wrong. Try "All Wheel Drive" out for size. See how it just rolls off the tongue? Not only does AWD have a nice ring to it, it might be the greatest invention known to human kind EVER. Today is a beautiful, blustery snow day. It snowed all night dumping about a foot to a foot and a half over the midnight hours. When snow falls in the middle of the night, that usually means no plowing, no sidewalks cleared and definitely no outdoor parking garage shoveling.  Does this trouble me in the least? No ma'am. Why? A. W. D. Ask me how long I spent shoveling my car out of it's snowy tomb. Try zero minutes. Ask me how many times my car fishtailed or spun its wheels while backing up and driving out of the garage and then down the street. Um, again, zero. And then, you can feel free to ask me how long it took to find a parking space at work because the side streets hadn't been plowed to the curb. Zero minutes again. And why is the sum total of all these questions zero? Because AWD was part of the equation. I just blew into a snow filled spot, jubilantly claiming it in the name of AWD.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6NDToFwbsI/AAAAAAAAALQ/aK4ZUo6Xsg4/s1600-h/Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6NDToFwbsI/AAAAAAAAALQ/aK4ZUo6Xsg4/s200/Love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162043602354859714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If All Wheel Drive were an animal, it would be a Bear-Tiger-Alligator.  If All Wheel Drive were a meal, it would be a 60 oz bloody rare steak, with heaping mashed potatoes and roided-out greasy onion rings. If All Wheel Drive were a concert it would be AC/DC (Bon Scott style) opening for bat-eating Ozzie Osbourne opening for Led Zeppelin circa 1970.   If All Wheel Drive were a 2007 Chicago Bear it would be Hester-Urlacher-Muhammed (this is for you Nemo). If All Wheel Drive were an American Gladiator it would be 68% &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/American_Gladiators/bios/wolf.shtml"&gt;Hellga&lt;/a&gt;, 17% &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/American_Gladiators/bios/wolf.shtml"&gt;Wolf&lt;/a&gt; and 15% &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/American_Gladiators/bios/toa.shtml"&gt;Toa&lt;/a&gt; (if you have to look at those links to know who I am talking about you are un-American). Basically, All Wheel Drive could stroll through a Tsunami on the way to a Siberian blizzard to pick up a military cargo plane filled with Elephants to tow across the Atlantic ocean to drop off at an &lt;a href="http://www.elephants.com/"&gt;Elephant sanctuary in Tennessee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I love the snow. And I don't throw this around frivolously, All Wheel Drive, I am in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If you don't get this, please watch &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=My-P4LssMsI"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-7744734827643772729?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/7744734827643772729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=7744734827643772729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7744734827643772729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/7744734827643772729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-i-sing-praises-of-all-wheel.html' title='Where I sing the praises of All Wheel Mother Ucking* Drive.'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6NDToFwbsI/AAAAAAAAALQ/aK4ZUo6Xsg4/s72-c/Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-968711053592103536</id><published>2008-01-31T11:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:43.847-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Paying for affection</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A good friend of mine recently turned me on to the phenomenon that is internet gift swaps. She did one for Christmas and really enjoyed herself.  She also is participating in a Valentine's Day swap and I decided, why not assure myself that I will, in fact, get a Valentine from someone other than my parents this year.  So I signed up at &lt;a href="http://islandlife808.com/holidays/2008-valentines-day-goody-swap/#comment-21140"&gt;An Island Life&lt;/a&gt; and am anxiously awaiting the revelation of my future Valentine. While I could just buy someone I actually know a Valentine, this way I know that I will be getting something in return. Whoever says they enjoy giving gifts more than receiving them has never given gifts and received jack squat for their efforts. Don't get me wrong. One of my favorite things in the world is thinking and finding the perfect gift for someone. But if that someone has never once in their life thought enough to get me a little token, their next gift from me might just be a flaming bag of poo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The person who runs the swap had a little questionnaire for us to answer so that our gift giver might know us a little better. I am including it on here in case any of you readers feel the need to know just how much I love chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Questionnaire:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What is your idea of a romantic Va&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lentine’s Day?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are two versions to this answer. The "I have a lover" Valentine's Day, and the "I am my own lover" Valentine's Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The "I have a lover" Day: I come home and he has cleaned my apartment for me. The dishes are done, the floors are vacuumed, the bathtub is scrubbed, the bed linen has been changed and the bed is made. We go out to dinner to a restaurant he knows I love that serves drinks he knows I love. It doesn't matter if it is fancy or casual, just so long as it was thought out and representative of me and my likes.  There is a lot of laughing and overall goofiness. We come home, and there is chocolate in some capacity (fondue, cake, chocolate strawberries, a candy bar, whatever). Then, I receive a thorough massage. Then there is some lovin' after which be both fall promptly asleep in the new, clean sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The "I am my own lover" Day: On my way home from work I stop at a chocolate shop and buy some assortment of delicious treats. If my friends are available, we go have a nice, meat intensive meal with beer and laugh at all the poor saps carrying around flowers looking longingly in their lovers eyes...or, more likely, fishing for conversation, trying to ignore the way their partner is still chewing with their mouth open and waiting impatiently for the check. If friends are not available, I go home, order Chinese food, eat it in front of the TV while watching "Amelie" or "Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind." I make myself a bath complete with bubbles, grab a glass of red wine and my chocolates and just go to town. Then I take myself to bed, give myself some lovin' after which I promptly fall asleep in the sheets that haven't been changed for two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In reality, what is your Valentine’s Day really like?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Actually, last years Valentine's Day was VERY close to the "I am my own lover" Day. Maybe you could substitute Chinese food for a Philly cheese steak. But then again, the "I am my own lover" day isn't all that different from any other night I'm at home except substitute the movie for trashy tv like "Rock of Love", and substitute nice chocolates for Reese's Pieces.  Oh yeah, and the lovin' I give myself is much, much less tender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you could have a lifetime supply of your favorite sweet indulgence, what would it be?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is cruel to make me choose. I really really really love s'mores. They aren't practical without a campfire, but whenever they are present I eat them until I cannot physically swallow anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Is there any sweet treat you absolutely d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;o not like?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Black liquorice makes me want to eat cow eyeballs in order to avoid it. Mike and Ike's too. Also, those candies that are shaped and colored to look like orange slices or lime wedges. Gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you fell into a pool of chocolate, how would you get out?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would open my mouth let the chocolate flow in and swallow. Over and over and over. And over. There are two possible outcomes to this approach. 1. I swallow my way to the bottom and win the Guinness Book of World Records for most chocolate consumed in a single sitting or 2. I aspirate chocolate and drown with the aftertaste of its deliciousness as my last memory. I think it is pretty clear that it is a win-win situation.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I don't know how much the answers to this questionnaire will help guide anyone to things I may like (except for, well, chocolate), but it is what it is. In the end, Valentine's Day shouldn't be a downer. It is a nice time to tell the people that you don't want to regularly punch in the face that you appreciate and love them. Even if the only people you hear it from in return is your parents (and even if they only say it because they feel slightly obligated to do so just so you don't get so dejected you come back to live with them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6IkFYFwbrI/AAAAAAAAALI/tP9eRiwtv8A/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6IkFYFwbrI/AAAAAAAAALI/tP9eRiwtv8A/s200/heart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161727797704552114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Human Heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'll be sure to keep you posted on the status and success of the swap as Valentine's Day comes and goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-968711053592103536?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/968711053592103536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=968711053592103536' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/968711053592103536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/968711053592103536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/01/paying-for-affection.html' title='Paying for affection'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6IkFYFwbrI/AAAAAAAAALI/tP9eRiwtv8A/s72-c/heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-4016455023533072499</id><published>2008-01-30T09:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:36:43.933-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathe Me</title><content type='html'>Baths. I love them. Is there a more decadent, self-indulgent, relaxing activity than taking a long bath? I took a bath for the first time in awhile yesterday and it was divine.  When I get around to really scrubbing my tub and committing to the bathing experience, I like to do it right. I do variations of the following things: mud mask, reading, candles, incense, bath crystals, bubbles, loofah, beverage (depending on my mood it could be wine, beer or coke zero), food I can pick at  without creating a food in tub situation, cell phone, exfoliating scrub (though it isn't really ideal for the tub unless you want an exfoliated ass, which, as I'm typing it, doesn't sound like a bad thing after all) as well as a few other things that need not be mentioned in a public forum. Ladies, you know what I mean. I think my love of baths began at an early age. I had two favorite bathtime items. One was this Gilligan's Island floating...well...island. It had caves and hills and all kinds of cool stuff that the characters could stand on. I mean, what a great idea! A floating island for the bathtub. The other was bath foam.  God how I loved bath foam. We had all different colors and you could put it in your hair and give yourself a mohawk. It was awesome. If I could get my hands on some bath foam, I would probably use it right now. We also had a scuba diver that ran on batteries and swam around the tub, but that kind of geeked me out. He would disappear beneath the bubbles and next thing you know you have a fin in your ass crack. Trust me, it isn't a fun way to remember you have a scuba diver in your tub. My parents had a jacuzzi bath in their house, and, in the bathroom with the jacuzzi bath, there was a tv. Talk about heaven. I think the shortest I ever stayed in that tub was an hour and a half. And damn, if there was a Real World marathon on, there was no way I was getting out of that tub until my skin hurt from pruniness.&lt;br /&gt;And now, for my favorite bath of all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6CheYFwbqI/AAAAAAAAALA/_4OCJ9UzgFU/s1600-h/Blue+Lagoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 168px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6CheYFwbqI/AAAAAAAAALA/_4OCJ9UzgFU/s200/Blue+Lagoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161302716201332386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Blue Lagoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Iceland's Blue Lagoon. What more could you want from a bathing experience that geothermal heat, natural, cleansing body scrub, showers, lava, waterfalls, varying heat and Icelandic people? Nothing. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now go. Go enjoy a bath.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-4016455023533072499?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/4016455023533072499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=4016455023533072499' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4016455023533072499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/4016455023533072499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/01/bathe-me.html' title='Bathe Me'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VoQCfhw6Zb4/R6CheYFwbqI/AAAAAAAAALA/_4OCJ9UzgFU/s72-c/Blue+Lagoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-3840269202191759880</id><published>2008-01-29T15:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T11:38:54.150-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Another (for lack of mental fortitude)</title><content type='html'>Oh my goodness. Really, are the only things I can think to post lists? I don't know why I've been so list crazy lately (and by lately I mean the last two days). Does it mean I am taking stock of my life? Doubtful. Am I deluding myself into thinking people may care about the top 14 blahs I blah about? Most likely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Smells&lt;br /&gt;1. Sauteeing onions&lt;br /&gt;2. Steak and garlic&lt;br /&gt;3. Salamanca, Spain (jamon and bread)&lt;br /&gt;4. Chlorine&lt;br /&gt;5. Sandalwood&lt;br /&gt;6. Arm and Hammer deodorant&lt;br /&gt;7. Old Spice (god help me)&lt;br /&gt;9. Aveda products&lt;br /&gt;10. Lavender&lt;br /&gt;11. Nag Champa&lt;br /&gt;12. Brownies&lt;br /&gt;13. The ocean&lt;br /&gt;14. Apple cider&lt;br /&gt;15. Campfire or fireplace fire&lt;br /&gt;16. New books&lt;br /&gt;17. Old beach books&lt;br /&gt;18. Baby&lt;br /&gt;19. McDonald's&lt;br /&gt;20. Patchouli (I know. I KNOW.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-3840269202191759880?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/3840269202191759880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=3840269202191759880' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3840269202191759880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/3840269202191759880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/01/another-for-lack-of-mental-fortitude.html' title='Another (for lack of mental fortitude)'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6629869704309115578.post-451937217050163462</id><published>2008-01-28T15:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T11:40:30.049-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listmania'/><title type='text'>Lists (the first of many)</title><content type='html'>I am intimidated by the blankness of this blog, so I am going to make my first entry a series of lists. I realize that may not be the most interesting thing to read, but I need to just get something down. So. There.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.V. shows I am enjoying watching and would recommend to someone I am trying to impress:&lt;br /&gt;1. American Gladiators.&lt;br /&gt;2. House, M.D.&lt;br /&gt;3. How to look good naked.&lt;br /&gt;4. Two and a Half Men.&lt;br /&gt;5. Arrested Development.&lt;br /&gt;6. Flight of the Conchords.&lt;br /&gt;7. Curb Your Enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;8. The Office.&lt;br /&gt;9. 30 Rock.&lt;br /&gt;10. Rock of Love.&lt;br /&gt;11. Rob and Big.&lt;br /&gt;12. Celebrity Rehab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I think about while I am swimming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The lyrics to whatever song was playing on the radio before I went under.&lt;br /&gt;2. The lyrics to the song that has been stuck in my head all week.&lt;br /&gt;3. What I am going to eat when I am done.&lt;br /&gt;4. How I am going to initiate a conversation with a boy I like.&lt;br /&gt;5. Witty anecdotes I can tell said boy.&lt;br /&gt;6. Whether or not the lifeguard can tell that my swimsuit is creeping up my cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;7. Whether or not I can finish my set without breaking to go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;8. Whether or not I could pee while I was swimming.&lt;br /&gt;9. Whether or not anyone would notice if I did pee while I was swimming.&lt;br /&gt;10. How many other people have peed in this pool.&lt;br /&gt;11. All this thinking about peeing is making me have to pee more.&lt;br /&gt;12. How I can't wait to have a newborn baby and take it to swim classes.&lt;br /&gt;13. What my baby's name will be.&lt;br /&gt;14. What my baby will look like.&lt;br /&gt;15. What genes of mine I want my baby to have.&lt;br /&gt;16. What genes of mine I do not want my baby to have.&lt;br /&gt;17. So on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Names people give children that I don't understand unless they are family names and even then, I'm not so sure.&lt;br /&gt;1. Madison (I know it is popular, but I just don't get it)&lt;br /&gt;2. Shamus&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plaxico_Burress"&gt;Plaxico&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.contactmusic.com/new/xmlfeed.nsf/mndwebpages/shannyn%20sossamon%20defends%20unusual%20baby%20name"&gt;Audio Science&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Siobhan (mostly because I have no idea how it is pronounced)&lt;br /&gt;6. Any number.&lt;br /&gt;7. Vondra (it is like a combination of names that confuses my brain)&lt;br /&gt;8. Wyatt&lt;br /&gt;9. White people named Jesus (are there any?)&lt;br /&gt;10. Guy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6629869704309115578-451937217050163462?l=eatingbears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/feeds/451937217050163462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6629869704309115578&amp;postID=451937217050163462' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/451937217050163462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6629869704309115578/posts/default/451937217050163462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatingbears.blogspot.com/2008/01/lists-first-of-many.html' title='Lists (the first of many)'/><author><name>Me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
