<?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-6032995711298187171</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:14:17.841-06:00</updated><category term='my own stupidity'/><category term='falling'/><category term='facebook'/><category term='baseball'/><category term='annoyances'/><category term='tdf'/><category term='douche baggery'/><category term='irony'/><category term='conscience'/><category term='plastic survery'/><category term='random'/><category term='Grey Cup'/><category term='humour'/><category term='why I&apos;m going to hell'/><category term='grammer'/><category term='memory'/><category term='wtf'/><category term='smells'/><category term='stupid'/><title type='text'>farleycat</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-5292995267918238989</id><published>2009-07-22T18:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T18:11:53.931-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wtf'/><title type='text'>work laptops</title><content type='html'>So, this is my last post for the day. I've been writing things down to post about. And vent about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so at my office full of professionals there are a lot of people who have a laptop. I can understand that, it's a great piece of equipment that can be useful when you go out on site a lot, if you're in a lot of meetings or if you travel a lot. So yeah, get it for the engineers, the site guys and various other people who are in and out of the office. What I don't understand is why someone in admin, specifically document control, needs a laptop. This makes no sense to me. All she does is work at her desk. She has no need for a lap top. She doesn't go into meetings, she's never on site, she doesn't travel. I don't get it! That is a waste of money and resources. Some people don't even have a desk and they have to move places everyday don't have a computer. Give them a laptop and set them up somewhere they can work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-5292995267918238989?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/5292995267918238989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=5292995267918238989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5292995267918238989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5292995267918238989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/07/work-laptops.html' title='work laptops'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-5240345582899862356</id><published>2009-07-22T17:56:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T18:16:17.684-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tdf'/><title type='text'>tdf</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SmerAvReijI/AAAAAAAAADw/c9Su0o-Du4k/s1600-h/2009_tour_de_france_official_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 391px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SmerAvReijI/AAAAAAAAADw/c9Su0o-Du4k/s400/2009_tour_de_france_official_poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361441910585985586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the Tour de France.  Really I do.  I love waking up at 6am and watching it before work.  I love watching it at night before I go to bed.  I read about what happened when I'm at work. I'm going to be sad when it's over.  It's been such a good Tour.  Most of my friends make fun of me for loving the Tour so much.  But I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-5240345582899862356?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/5240345582899862356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=5240345582899862356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5240345582899862356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5240345582899862356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/07/tdf.html' title='tdf'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SmerAvReijI/AAAAAAAAADw/c9Su0o-Du4k/s72-c/2009_tour_de_france_official_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-6171859894162241149</id><published>2009-07-22T17:46:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T17:56:24.467-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why I&apos;m going to hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><title type='text'>awkward c</title><content type='html'>So, those of you who subscribe to my blog will know my acquaintance Awkward Chris. Typically he is my summer friend as he plays on my ball team. Well, this year I wouldn't call it playing on my ball team, I'd call it 'whining like a little baby and having a pissy attitude while not playing on my ball team and quitting without telling anyone who directly plays on the ball team'. Was that too long? I don't care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he's been out to like two games and has been pissy at both of them. I think it all started when he had a steak night for his roller hockey team or something like that, I don't know. I do know that I couldn't go because I was training for a triathlon and had a training class... that I had paid a lot of money for. And my husband was out of town. So that meant I couldn't go. And said it was okay and he understood and he knew that we typically would have been there and we would support him on the next steak night. Well, we had a ball game the night of the steak night and NONE of our team went. I couldn't tell them to. I wasn't going, I had swimming class! Well, that pissed him off really good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he came out to a game a few weeks after that and was so mad at people he refused to talk to anyone who didn't come to the steak night. Umm, that was pretty much the whole team. And then he was pissed off that he was at the bottom of the line up. Get over yourself!! Everyone has been at the bottom of the list. It happens! Unless your name is RaeShawnDale... you will be at the bottom!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night, he comes out to the game. We were concerned we wouldn't have enough guys, but as usual when that happens... we have too many. So he shows up, late, with his darling daughter and sees we have enough guys and says 'oh, well I may a swell just go home I've got other stuff to do and I don't want to be at the bottom of the lineup anyhow' and then proceeds to stay for 6 out of 7 innings!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he shows up tonight he's going to be on the bottom of the lineup no matter what. Am I a jerk?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-6171859894162241149?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/6171859894162241149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=6171859894162241149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/6171859894162241149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/6171859894162241149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/07/awkward-c.html' title='awkward c'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2521733514471069583</id><published>2009-07-22T15:29:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T10:08:32.226-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><title type='text'>facebook &amp; co-workers</title><content type='html'>Ahh, facebook. It's always an issue when starting a new job.  Or meeting new people. Being at a new job means I have met a lot of new people.  That also translates into a lot of people wanting to be my friend on facebook.  Who wouldn't want to be my friend on facebook? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now honestly, I have sort of jumped from the proverbial 'facebook ship' sometime ago.  I talk to those people I'm friends with in real life or in emails from time to time.  I rarely check into facebook now that I'm busy at work.  And when I get home I don't often feel like being on the computer &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past I really haven't worked at any place with a lot of people. Typically they've been small offices but now it's a company that has over 150 in my office alone. So I made a rule for myself that I wasn't going to add any more friends to my facebook account (especially co-workers) since I rarely check it anyhow. Some of these co-workers have requested to be my friend on facebook, I'm not surprised, I want to be my friend too! Sure, some of them I work with on a daily basis while others are just there and the most I've said to them is 'hello' at the coffee maker. Either way I don't want you to be my friend on facebook.  I don't want you to see the drunk pictures of my (you'll have to wait for the Christmas party), or who all my friends are or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2521733514471069583?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2521733514471069583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2521733514471069583' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2521733514471069583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2521733514471069583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/07/facebook-co-workers.html' title='facebook &amp; co-workers'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-4698705895078022467</id><published>2009-05-26T22:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T22:41:32.907-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my own stupidity'/><title type='text'>negating a workout</title><content type='html'>So when training for a triathlon you need to do a lot of work to be prepared for the actual triathlon.  It's three sports all in one events - that's difficult.  Well, tonight we went for our group swim class and boy was it a workout! It is a great head to toe workout that exhausts you and makes you feel good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I was proud of how hard I pushed myself and on my way home from the pool I was planning to have a big glass of lemon water and a banana when I arrived home.  On the way home I got a text from my friend Ryan. It's fun getting text messages.  Apparently there was something waiting for me when I got home.  I love surprises!!  Shawn got home before me, as he was also at the gym, and what was waiting for me?!?  A CAKE!!!  A chocolate and vanilla cake with green peanut butter icing and Reese's Pieces on top!  SHUT UP!  Ryan's girl makes the best cakes ever!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I get a cake?  No real reason.  Ryan and I were playing ball last week and here was our conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Jenn should make us a cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Why? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Because she makes a good cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: But is it for something?  Is there a reason or something to celebrate? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't know... Canada Day? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: That's too far away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tuesday? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Tuesday? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, I like Tuesdays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: What colour should it be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Green... it's my favourite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have, that's how I got a cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I got home I had a drink of water, no lemon, a piece of cake and some milk.  Therefore I negated the great workout I had at the pool.  Thanks a lot Ryan!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-4698705895078022467?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/4698705895078022467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=4698705895078022467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4698705895078022467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4698705895078022467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/05/negating-workout.html' title='negating a workout'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-221288522494503629</id><published>2009-05-24T20:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T20:51:10.489-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my own stupidity'/><title type='text'>baking... no bleeding</title><content type='html'>So tonight I decided to bake some cookies and some banana bread.  That wasn't a big problem.  I even made a roast in the slow cooker for supper - again, not a problem.  What was the problem?  Cutting some lemons for our iced tea.  Yup, I almost lost a finger tip, which would be good if I was a spy and didn't want people to know my finger print and I'd have to find someway to get rid of my finger prints but I wouldn't recommend cutting them off because it hurts really bad, so would burning them with acid or trying to scar them.  Honestly... just wear gloves if you're a spy, it's the safest way to go, actually it's probably safer if you weren't a spy and you worked in an office or perhaps a grocery store.  I like grocery stores.  Safeway buns and cupcakes are my most favourite.  And I like the sushi at Sobey's, but I still tend to call it IGA.  Remember when the IGA in the south end was on strike for like two years, through the winter when it was like -40C outside?  I don't know why I had to use the word outside, it wouldn't be -40C inside, unless you lived in a freezer and I don't know why you'd do that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm not good with seeing my own blood. It honestly makes me want to puke and pass out.  Seriously, I wish I was joking, but I'm not.  I didn't cut a my wrist and blood wasn't gushing out all over, it was just the side of my finger but the blood was coming out pretty fast... faster than if it was a paper cut but not as fast as if it were an artery.  So I ran to the washroom to run it under cold water.  Why did I run to the washroom I was in the kitchen right beside the kitchen sink.  For some reason I always feel that bloody emergencies call for the need to be in the washroom and not the kitchen.  I didn't want to taint any of the food I had prepared so far.  So Shawn, my loving husband, came in to see how I was because I typically don't yell 'ouch' and run to the washroom when I cook.  I know it's surprising because I that sounds like how I should cook.  Anyhow, he got me a cloth to wrap around my finger.  I wasn't going to use toilet paper, that will stick to my wound and it could get infected.  I could get gangrene on my finger or I could suffer from septic shock.  Like I said earlier, I'm not good with seeing my own blood.  I almost passed out on the way into my bedroom to lay down.  I needed to lay down!  I was sweating profusly and totally wanted to puke.  But I didn't.  I was proud of myself.  So I ate one of those delicious cookies I made.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and no blood made it into any of my cooking, baking or drinking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-221288522494503629?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/221288522494503629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=221288522494503629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/221288522494503629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/221288522494503629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/05/baking.html' title='baking... no bleeding'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-4818657420999389750</id><published>2009-05-12T10:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T11:01:57.240-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wtf'/><title type='text'>work ethic</title><content type='html'>Now, I'm not too familiar with the next generation entering the workforce, but so far I'm not impressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work with a 22 year old who has no work ethic whatsoever. Granted her position is a bit of a farce and she's not very competent at it. But today, while the entire office, except me, was out in meetings, on vacation or called in because they 'forgot' their child had a cultural day at school, she decided to crawl under her desk pull her chair up to where she was and have a nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY!?!? Am I on an episode of Seinfeld?!?! WTF!?!?!? Yes, I'm using lots of '!?!??!?!?!?' because I'm in complete shock, awe, confusion and a little bit of hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to start my new job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-4818657420999389750?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/4818657420999389750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=4818657420999389750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4818657420999389750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4818657420999389750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/05/work-ethic.html' title='work ethic'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2735208731698373968</id><published>2009-04-30T09:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:44:14.322-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoyances'/><title type='text'>local radio</title><content type='html'>So for the most part, I don't mind our local radio stations. But there are a few DJ's (do we still call them disc jockey's?) that annoy me. A lot. Seriously, a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One in particular is part of a trio that hosts a morning show. She annoys the shit out of me! Typically it is due to the fact that she comes across as not being very smart which I don't think this is an act, and she often mispronounces things VERY often and uses wrong words. For example...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Jian Ghomeshi is prounced as John Gogameshi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Matthew McConaughy is Matthew McGonagee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- when our Mayor won in an uncontested race she called it a coup of a win.  He was uncontested and there was no bloodshed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- she said Floyd Landis (an American cyclist who temporarily won the 2006 Tour de France) committed suicide after news broke about his doping scandle.  It wasn't Floyd, it was his father-in-law.  For an avid Tour watcher this really bothered me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there will be more examples.  But at the moment this is all I can think of.  And yeah, I know, I could change the channel or not listen to the radio in the morning but I do.  And I like being annoyed by her.  Some of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2735208731698373968?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2735208731698373968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2735208731698373968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2735208731698373968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2735208731698373968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/local-radio.html' title='local radio'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-6409846368331561115</id><published>2009-04-22T16:21:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:03:18.765-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douche baggery'/><title type='text'>i'm a humpbacked geek &amp; billy bob is still a douche bag</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dtA-FYnW5G8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dtA-FYnW5G8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I can't let this go just yet. Billy Bob was on Jimmy Kimmel the other night doing some damage control. Basically he still came off looking like a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the highlights or lowlights... however you want to look at this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- he's surprised it was news, but it gave 'humpbacked geeks' something to talk about and blog about for a couple days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- he says he acts like that all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- he told Jian Ghomeshi to kiss his ass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- he blames the marines for not capturing the pirates sooner therefore having media focus o him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- he has a metal plate in his head where he can recieve signals from Venus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-6409846368331561115?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/6409846368331561115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=6409846368331561115' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/6409846368331561115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/6409846368331561115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-humpbacked-geek-billy-bob-is-still.html' title='i&apos;m a humpbacked geek &amp; billy bob is still a douche bag'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2612070575692718907</id><published>2009-04-17T14:22:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T14:42:53.601-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my own stupidity'/><title type='text'>milk duds and water</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sejm1ABh5AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/prOx6REYax0/s1600-h/MilkDuds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325760357579482114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sejm1ABh5AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/prOx6REYax0/s200/MilkDuds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am starting to get a tummy ache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got some Milk Duds at lunch, I love 'em, they are perhaps my most favourite candy! The best part is when you let them melt on your tounge and then drink some cold water and the caramel get solid and not melty any more. The only problem is I've drank almost two litres of water and I can't stop going to the washroom now! I've only had eight Milk Duds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. The first time I wrote this, I spelled them as Milk Dudes. Honestly, why is anyone friends with me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.p.s. Did you know in the US they are Kosher? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2612070575692718907?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2612070575692718907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2612070575692718907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2612070575692718907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2612070575692718907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/milk-duds-and-water.html' title='milk duds and water'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sejm1ABh5AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/prOx6REYax0/s72-c/MilkDuds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-414180091339844456</id><published>2009-04-17T11:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:52:04.238-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grammer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douche baggery'/><title type='text'>i still don't like billy bob</title><content type='html'>So I'm still obsessed with this Billy Bob Thornton - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Jian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ghomeshi&lt;/span&gt; thing. I was told by a great friend that on The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Boxmaster's&lt;/span&gt; website there was an article in defence of Billy Bob's actions on Q. So of course I read it. And get all obsessive compulsive about this story again. Thanks a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all I do have to admit that this story has been way overblown - even by me. So here's the link to &lt;a href="http://swampland.com/posts/view/title:in_defense_of_billy_bob_thornton_when_context_isnt_truly_context"&gt;Swampland.com&lt;/a&gt;, the site who has decided to come to Billy Bob's defence. In their attempts to debunk the myths surrounding this incident I get terribly frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Myth#1:&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Billy Bob Thornton's actions were weird or inexplicable - This is clearly false. Anyone watching or listening to the interview can see by his actions that he was merely choosing not to participate in the interview. This might be uncomfortable, but it is his right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he didn't want to participate he should have just stopped talking, deferred to another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;band mate&lt;/span&gt; or left and not talked about monster magazines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myth #2: &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t an previous understanding about the content of the interview&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here the author uses a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;transcript&lt;/span&gt; of the interview where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ghomeshi&lt;/span&gt; (whose name always has to be said in full... it's just that type of name!) says that his produces had said Billy Bob didn't want to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;focus&lt;/span&gt; on questions around his acting career. There were no questions about his acting career, only music. Too bad there weren't any monster questions, Billy Bob did have an answer for that topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few more defences 'myths' - how it was Billy Bob's right to request to have no questions asked about his acting career, another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;similar&lt;/span&gt; one, and the last one is that Billy Bob does like Canadians. But my most favourite line in the entire article is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is the downside of celebrity that every word you say can be parsed or taken out of context. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Why is this the best line? Because the author of this article is taking everything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Jian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ghomeshi&lt;/span&gt; said out of context! I love it. How ironic is that? And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;hypocritical&lt;/span&gt;? Amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and they used the word 'parsed'! The word 'parse' means to analyze an object specifically. Commonly it's used in computer science to refer to reading program code or breaking up ordinary text. Search engines typically parse search phrases entered by users so that they can more accurately search for each word. I think they wanted to use the word paraphrase. But I'm no English major!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'll let this story die now. I just get worked up about somethings. Don't even get me started about plastic bags!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-414180091339844456?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/414180091339844456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=414180091339844456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/414180091339844456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/414180091339844456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-still-dont-like-billy-bob.html' title='i still don&apos;t like billy bob'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-3146892481144399264</id><published>2009-04-17T11:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:08:27.153-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><title type='text'>ninja turtles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei3JWwSoGI/AAAAAAAAACo/aB63XnrUFww/s1600-h/ninja_turtles.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325707930720444514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei3JWwSoGI/AAAAAAAAACo/aB63XnrUFww/s400/ninja_turtles.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6032995711298187171-3146892481144399264?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/3146892481144399264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=3146892481144399264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3146892481144399264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3146892481144399264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/ninja-turtles.html' title='ninja turtles'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei3JWwSoGI/AAAAAAAAACo/aB63XnrUFww/s72-c/ninja_turtles.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-7485598682834180870</id><published>2009-04-17T10:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:08:39.571-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><title type='text'>the 90's flow chart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei0k0Ss2iI/AAAAAAAAACg/9AOkAAM-JiE/s1600-h/90s_flowchart.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325705103970982434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 397px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei0k0Ss2iI/AAAAAAAAACg/9AOkAAM-JiE/s400/90s_flowchart.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6032995711298187171-7485598682834180870?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/7485598682834180870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=7485598682834180870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7485598682834180870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7485598682834180870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/90s-flow-chart.html' title='the 90&apos;s flow chart'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sei0k0Ss2iI/AAAAAAAAACg/9AOkAAM-JiE/s72-c/90s_flowchart.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2473223715043400881</id><published>2009-04-13T09:03:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T09:24:49.850-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douche baggery'/><title type='text'>billy bob flu home</title><content type='html'>After the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;infamous&lt;/span&gt; interview with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ghomeshi&lt;/span&gt;, Billy Bob's was booed and jeered at by the Canadian crowd - the crowd he deemed was like 'mashed potatoes without gravy." Putting on a major pout session, he and his band have pulled out of the rest of their Canadian tour with Willy Nelson claiming that one of their members and some crew have come down with the flu. So they flu home - get it, flu home, flew home? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, if Billy Bob had enough balls to act the way he did on the radio and with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jian&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ghomeshi&lt;/span&gt; why isn't he just honest is saying that he now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;despises&lt;/span&gt; Canadian crowds, hates the CBC and wants to quit the Canadian part of the tour? I'm surprised they used the flu excuse.  He probably thought that nobody listens to the CBC, let alone a little show called Q, and never expected this thing to go beyond the Greater Toronto Area. In reality, it went globally and quite quickly. Welcome to the new media age Billy Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And mostly likely Willy Nelson probably asked him to leave for the Canadian part of the tour.  Willy knows how to treat fans and be a class act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so interested in this story?!?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2473223715043400881?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2473223715043400881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2473223715043400881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2473223715043400881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2473223715043400881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/billy-bob-flu-home.html' title='billy bob flu home'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-405740478717026158</id><published>2009-04-08T16:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T16:44:11.814-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douche baggery'/><title type='text'>billy bob douch bag</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So could Billy Bob be more of an asshole-ish douche bag? I don't think so! You can just feel the awkwardness in the studio, the rest of the band was just thinking "shut the fuck up Billy Bob!" Jian Ghomeshi did a great job though, I'd love to hear his comments about this sometime. If only we were friends. Check out the awkwardness. It gets super good after the 5:00min mark. Trust me, it's worth the time investment to watch this!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IJWS6qyy7bw&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-405740478717026158?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/405740478717026158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=405740478717026158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/405740478717026158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/405740478717026158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-could-billy-bob-be-more-of-asshole.html' title='billy bob douch bag'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2542401727633069023</id><published>2009-03-30T13:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:23:16.912-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><title type='text'>did you get all my emails?</title><content type='html'>One of the stupidest questions to ask a client of yours over the phone.   Honestly.  How are they supposed to know if you sent 2 or 20?  Stupid.  This is why you are not going to get the business you think you deserve.  Take a course on how to run your own business or proper phone etiquette.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2542401727633069023?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2542401727633069023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2542401727633069023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2542401727633069023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2542401727633069023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/did-you-get-all-my-emails.html' title='did you get all my emails?'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-3402259256547211475</id><published>2009-03-20T16:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T16:38:55.164-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plastic survery'/><title type='text'>moley moley moley mole</title><content type='html'>So I have a mole. On my face. You've all seen it. It's just under my nose. It's nothing surprising. As a kid I will admit it was really awkward to have. Kids make fun of things, this was one of the things I got teased about. It's okay, I'm over it now. I'm actually a little attached to this mole because it's been part of what I have looked like for almost my entire life. Anytime I look at pictures of myself, from being a toddler to getting married, I see this mole on my face. It has become part of my look. Well, it won't be for much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I was seriously thinking about getting it removed. No pressing reason, just out of overall concern. My doctor has always been concerned about it but since it was never sore or swollen we left it alone. Well, after mentioning it to my husband and a few friends guess what started to hurt??!? THE MOLE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, it became infected. I noticed it started to hurt one day and then the next day it was still pretty tender. Upon the third day it looked like I was punched in the kisser! But only half my lip was really swollen so it wasn't the Angelina Jolie pout, it was just awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm preparing myself for plastic surgery. I feel so vain. And so Housewife of Orange County. I'm sure I won't get breast implants while I'm there. They might try to up-sale me, but I'll say no. I hope I'll say no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-3402259256547211475?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/3402259256547211475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=3402259256547211475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3402259256547211475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3402259256547211475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/moley-moley-mole.html' title='moley moley moley mole'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-7638466826466710905</id><published>2009-03-20T10:22:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:23:53.156-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><title type='text'>overly optimistic bride</title><content type='html'>Not that I recommend spending time in an ICU, but I had a fairly decent time hanging out in the ICU waiting room in Saskatoon last week. My sister-in-law's father has taken ill and will be spending some much needed time within those rooms getting the care he needs (this is something you can pray for and I encourage it). But I got to hang out in the waiting rooms and meet a lot of new people so I thought I would share some of their stories:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start with the Overly Optimistic Bride, Autumn*. Autumn's fiance, Earp, was brought into the hospital after suffering a ruptured spleen. It was successfully removed but he unfortunately went into cardiac arrect during recovery. Thanks to the great staff at the hospital Earp was saved and sent off to the ICU to recover. At this point in time the doctors were telling Autumn that the odds were stacked against her fiance and she should prepare herself for what could happen. Now, as her name might suggest, the overly optimistic Autumn refused to believe the doctor's prognosis. She said she believed in miracles and that is what was going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn really believed that everything was going to be okay. Not just okay, but perfect. After one conversation with her I realized she didn't live in a 'glass is half empty' sort of world. Her glass was 90% full, with a silver lining, while unicorns and rainbow danced around the freakin' glass! I'm sorry, I don't care how optimistic you are, but reality needs to set in eventually! I'm one of the most optimistic people I know and that can be one of my biggest faults! I'm aware of that. Autumn is not aware of this fault!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was to be married in less than a week on the day I talked with her. Her husband-to-be was still lying in intensive care in an induced coma and she hadn't postponed a single thing for the wedding! No matter how quickly Earp's recovery could be, there was no way he would enjoy his wedding. None! Chances were that he wouldn't be out of the hospital by then! I was completely flabergasted by the delusional thinking of Autumn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how did it end? I'm not completely sure. But when I left the hospital on Sunday, Earp was supposed to be moving out of ICU into recovery. He was feeling good, but still pretty hopped up on the meds. Autumn believed that she was the one who was right all along and she news Earp would be a miracle because that's the type of guy he is! Part of me is frustrated that she was right, but the majorty of me is overly happy that Earp pulled through and appears to be doing well. I wish them all the best and hope they have a great life, but with a bit more reality interjected into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Today is the wedding day and Earp was released and guess what!?!?! The wedding is a go! HOLY SHIT! Autumn says not to worry because the wedding will be quick and it's a small short reception, only 3 hours! But the did have to cancel their trip to Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other day I'll tell you about Autumn's theory on in-laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*names have been changed because I'm afraid you might know these people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;** I'm really bad at making up fake names, nicknames are a completely different story though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-7638466826466710905?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/7638466826466710905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=7638466826466710905' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7638466826466710905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7638466826466710905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/overly-optimistic-bride.html' title='overly optimistic bride'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-1907084715956114566</id><published>2009-03-09T14:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T16:25:12.059-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conscience'/><title type='text'>praying</title><content type='html'>So, I might have this praying thing wrong. A couple weeks ago our Pastor was saying that he and his wife were on a trip recently and they wanted to have breakfast at IHOP. So he tried to find it by driving down this one street and he had no luck. So he tried another - again no luck. Well, just as he was going to turn around again there it was - IHOP. He said God had answered his prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my question is, do I have this praying thing wrong? Do Lutheran's and other groups pray differently than Catholics? What if I was praying for IHOP when another child was praying for his mom not to die of cancer? And God answered my IHOP prayer instead of the cancer one. I'm sorry but my good Catholic conscience says I should feel guilty, and I do. I didn't even pray for IHOP but I feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just me. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to volunteer more at church so that I can understand this better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-1907084715956114566?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/1907084715956114566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=1907084715956114566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/1907084715956114566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/1907084715956114566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/praying.html' title='praying'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-4568613705675582555</id><published>2009-03-09T13:48:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T14:10:47.925-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memory'/><title type='text'>vi-co... I never knew what it stood for</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SbV3bxOpuxI/AAAAAAAAACY/9vsumVW0irg/s1600-h/vico1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311282654508333842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SbV3bxOpuxI/AAAAAAAAACY/9vsumVW0irg/s200/vico1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I child in elementary school I remember being given two quarters from my parents to get a Vi-Co to drink with my lunch. It was always exciting. It was the highlight of most of our days, but up until today when I read our local paper I had no idea what Vi-Co stood for. I miss it dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vi-Co: short for "vitamin concentrate," a flavour concentrate that became both a brand and generic name in the province for chocolate milk. Discontinued in 1995. Purists insist chocolate milk since has never been the same.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Upon other research I found out that initially Vi-Co was an American brand name and was being imported, but a couple of years after its introduction onto the market, Co-op Dairies purchased the name and began selling Vi-Co in the grocery stores. With the passing of my beloved Vi-Co we are now bombarded with such milk that is strawberry and banana flavoured - gross in my opinion, although I've never tried and probably never will. I'm sure the banana flavoured milk tastes just like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;penicillin&lt;/span&gt; I used to get as a kid. I'd always try to give it to my brother, he liked the taste of it! And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chocolate&lt;/span&gt; milks no claim to be milk shakes and some have chocolate bar name brands like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Caramilk&lt;/span&gt; and Crispy Crunch. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Give me a Vi-Co &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;any day&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/6032995711298187171-4568613705675582555?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/4568613705675582555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=4568613705675582555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4568613705675582555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/4568613705675582555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/vi-co-i-never-knew-what-it-stood-for.html' title='vi-co... I never knew what it stood for'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SbV3bxOpuxI/AAAAAAAAACY/9vsumVW0irg/s72-c/vico1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-1464175407584573720</id><published>2009-03-04T16:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T16:30:37.223-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoyances'/><title type='text'>eating II</title><content type='html'>So yeah, back to the eating thing.  It REALLY bothers me, more often than I care to admit - except to my husband who I mention it to way too often.  But what I don't need is a co-worker who tries to eat carrots as loudly as she can.  I also don't need a co-worker to hover over me with a smelly hotdog (which typically I would enjoy that smell but it disgusted me today - no, I'm not pregnant) and smack their lips and loudly lick the mustard and relish off their fingers.  And then proceed to talk to me while chewing... all within less than a foot of my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have punched them both in the face.  But in reality I'm not a violent person... just in my mind I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-1464175407584573720?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/1464175407584573720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=1464175407584573720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/1464175407584573720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/1464175407584573720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/eating-ii.html' title='eating II'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-3732883171436278438</id><published>2009-03-03T09:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:47:52.496-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smells'/><title type='text'>smells</title><content type='html'>So everyone has a smell (or smells) that they just detest.   I was reminded of one of these smells this morning.  It wasn't rotting garbage, a dog fart or even morning breath... it was the smell of papers that have been sitting in a vehicle absorbing the dirty, musty, thick, stale smell of cigarette smoke.  I had to go wash my hands after handling the papers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I weird about this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-3732883171436278438?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/3732883171436278438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=3732883171436278438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3732883171436278438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3732883171436278438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/03/smells.html' title='smells'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-8245303791541021588</id><published>2009-02-20T14:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T13:39:43.926-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grammer'/><title type='text'>happy birthday</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed when someone sends you written birthday wishes they often capatalize both Happy and Birthday? I have. It's wrong. The message is still nice and greatly appreciated, but grammatically it is wrong. It should be one capatalized letter at the begining of the sentence. Not each word. I'm just saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-8245303791541021588?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/8245303791541021588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=8245303791541021588' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8245303791541021588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8245303791541021588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday.html' title='happy birthday'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-8785382442710964897</id><published>2009-02-19T10:28:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T14:11:12.879-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memory'/><title type='text'>pace setters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SZ2Ko9a67PI/AAAAAAAAABQ/NqFhn8z5Xrs/s1600-h/pace+setter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304548372399189234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 103px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 49px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SZ2Ko9a67PI/AAAAAAAAABQ/NqFhn8z5Xrs/s320/pace+setter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I was talking with some friends last night, one of which is from Newfoundland. We were talking about the Canadian lexicon and how it differs from the United States - some words are strictly Canadian. You know the type: toque, double-double and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;toonie&lt;/span&gt;, just to name a few. But we then got to regional terms, again for example the term bunny hug is pretty much a Saskatchewan phrase, as is Vico (if you don't know it, don't ask). Another phrase is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gitch&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gotch&lt;/span&gt; (which are terrible words, don't get me started), but in Manitoba it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ginch&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;gonch&lt;/span&gt; - they through in an 'n' for some reason! Port-a-potty is not an Ontario term, they call it a Johnny-On-The-Spot. It's not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;parkade&lt;/span&gt; in Ontario it is an above ground parking structure. Okay, I'm going too far off topic now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I wanted to talk about here was the glorious wonder of Pace Setters. We all had at least on pair while growing up. You could have them in maroon with a yellow stripe down the side and the white piping on each side of the stripe. Or maybe in a baby blue with red stripes, yellow and green, black and red, the possibilities were seemingly endless. Alas, our good friend from the Rock had no idea what Pace Setters were! So being a good friend, I was going to look up this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wondrous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;apparel&lt;/span&gt; and email it to him. But do you think for the love of God that I can find Pace Setters on the great inter-web?!? HELL NO! I'm a little upset and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;saddened&lt;/span&gt; by this. So I put up an image of the logo to warm most of your hearts. It's a little bitter sweet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could find jackets, fleece vests, curling pants, shirts... but not the illustrious pants. I feel old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;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/6032995711298187171-8785382442710964897?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/8785382442710964897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=8785382442710964897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8785382442710964897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8785382442710964897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/02/pace-setters.html' title='pace setters'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/SZ2Ko9a67PI/AAAAAAAAABQ/NqFhn8z5Xrs/s72-c/pace+setter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-3946986718156597312</id><published>2009-02-05T16:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T16:33:58.923-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoyances'/><title type='text'>eating</title><content type='html'>People that know me well know that I have huge issues with people eating.  Lots of issues.  Typically they are all issues with people eating loudly, chewing with their mouths open, and things of that sort.  One that has particularly bothered me today is eating while on the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY?  Why would you eat while you are talking on the phone?  You aren't multi-tasking, you are being rude!  I HATE when people are eating on the phone and talking to me... honestly, if you do that I will hang up on you.  But what is worse is being in the actual physical presence with someone who is eating and talking on the phone - because I can't hang up!!  Do people not realize that every lip smack and crunch is being amplified by the phone and making it a million times worse?!?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are eating you should be eating and not talking.  When you are at supper with friends, you can talk then... between bites.  If everyone times it correctly and properly someone will talk while the others eat and then it switches.  This is natural, it just happens.  Don't upset the flow of nature.  Don't talk while you are chewing and for the love of God close your mouth!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-3946986718156597312?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/3946986718156597312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=3946986718156597312' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3946986718156597312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3946986718156597312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/02/eating.html' title='eating'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-7955931319155808189</id><published>2009-01-28T15:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T15:05:55.474-06:00</updated><title type='text'>productivity</title><content type='html'>Today at work I updated my blog appearance.  I like it.  It was a difficult decision, but I picked this one because it's not too flashing and not too boring.  As well, it doesn't have pictures of tigers or anime on it - that was a bonus for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I played the most addicting game ever &lt;a href="http://www.addictinggames.com/bubblespinner.html"&gt;Bubble Spinner&lt;/a&gt;.  I got the best score of all time, 1796! I dare you to try and beat that!  I know I never will.  If I do though, I will put up an image of my score so people believe me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'd like a job where I'm busy and have stuff to do.  I guess I should enjoy the down time for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-7955931319155808189?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/7955931319155808189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=7955931319155808189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7955931319155808189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/7955931319155808189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/01/productivity.html' title='productivity'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-3150125599455226821</id><published>2009-01-19T14:26:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T10:53:25.264-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irony'/><title type='text'>talk about a burn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;So today there was a fire at a local tanning salon. Thankfully no one was severely hurt or injured. But I did find some irony in the story. First off I went to the local paper's website to see if there were photos, luckily for me there were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Photo #1: &lt;em&gt;Front of building with over two dozen firemen. &lt;/em&gt;You might think that is a lot of firemen but don't worry, it was because the fire hall is located right across the street. I'm sure they had no problem walking across the street and I'm sure every fireman wanted to check out this scene. Why? Who goes to a tanning salon? Mostly women, especially women who get naked! Chances are some of those women would have been so scared they would just run out into the cold without any clothes on and who better to come to their aid then firemen!?!? I wonder was their response time was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo #2: &lt;em&gt;Receptionist from the tanning salon.&lt;/em&gt; I emphasize that she worked at the tanning salon - she was orange. And leathery. She should find a new job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo #3: &lt;em&gt;The man who first noticed the fire.&lt;/em&gt; So the fire actually started in his tanning bed and and he is actually very lucky to have escaped with just some burns on his 'stomach' (is he too embarassed to tell the truth?). But in this photo the man is ghostly white - obviously he is new at this tanning thing. But he comments that this won't be ending his 'tanning career'!! Career?!? I didn't know it was such a sought after career!! Another one of his comments was that he 'barely made it out of there'! Funny again! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I decide to check out what, if anything, the CBC site has to say about this. Bonus, they got something!! The title of their article? &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cbc.ca/canada/saskatchewan/story/2009/01/19/tanning-salon-fire.html#socialcomments"&gt;Naked man flees from tanning bed.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Hilarious!! Was the word 'naked' really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;needed in the title?!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;On another note, the Running Room is located right beside the tanning salon - I wonder how fast they got out of their place? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EDIT:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://perezhilton.com/2009-01-22-headline-of-the-week-weak-330#more-41783"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Perez Hilton &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;mentioned this story on his site, too funny!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800080;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-3150125599455226821?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/3150125599455226821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=3150125599455226821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3150125599455226821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/3150125599455226821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/01/talk-about-burn.html' title='talk about a burn'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-5059519097526401867</id><published>2009-01-08T16:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T14:17:39.555-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conscience'/><title type='text'>What you cannot pray for...</title><content type='html'>Recently someone I know was praying for a bathtub. This someone had recently been on a mission trip to Africa where she met orphaned children suffering with AIDS, extremem poverty, extreme hunger and dispare. She had to travel through several countries that were experiencing violent political warfare. All this concludes me to say: you can't pray for a bathtub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a list of things I don't think you are allowed to pray for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. bathtub (obviously)&lt;br /&gt;2. a Michael's coupon&lt;br /&gt;3. bacon&lt;br /&gt;4. a hot tub&lt;br /&gt;5. dijon mustard&lt;br /&gt;6. a monkey, for a pet (you can pray for the health &amp;amp; well being of a monkey though)&lt;br /&gt;7. post-it notes&lt;br /&gt;8. leaves falling off your tree not to end up in your zero landscaping front yard&lt;br /&gt;9. a new desk when you already have 3&lt;br /&gt;10. Zombies... they are evil and scary, why would you pray for them?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: I don't think this person has prayed for all of these, just some of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE II: I hope she never finds my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-5059519097526401867?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/5059519097526401867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=5059519097526401867' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5059519097526401867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/5059519097526401867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-you-cannot-pray-for.html' title='What you cannot pray for...'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-2308045860371353954</id><published>2008-12-29T15:40:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T15:07:48.105-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why I&apos;m going to hell'/><title type='text'>participACTION</title><content type='html'>So, there is a new commerical out for ParticipACTION. Don't judge right away, this commerical is very modern and actually really good. It has no comparison to the old commericials from when I was a kid when everyone had really short shorts and shorter crop top tees, when roller skates ruled and rollerblades were unheard of. But don't get me wrong these commericials are no where near the excellence of Hal and Joanne McLeod on (make sure you sing this.... I know you know it) Oooooooh, Body Break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ParticipACTION is a great thing to promote to today's society! Just a quick glance at their website and you can easily read that childhood obesity has tripled over the past three decades, one in two Canadian adults are overweight, and this is all causing a major burden to our healthcare system. People need to get out there and do physical activity. I say this all as I sit here at my computer with my feet up and a bag of Doritos and a Coke easily within reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyhow, back to the task at hand - the new participACTION commerical. It has a whole bunch of Canadian sport icons telling us to get out there and get active! I love our Canadian athletes, honestly I do! &lt;strong&gt;BUT I AM GOING TO HELL!!!&lt;/strong&gt; Rick Hansen tells people to walk to work. Really?!? You're going to have the Man in Motion, who is in a wheelchair, tell people to walk to work. The guy who cannot walk and is famous for NOT WALKING?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony alone made me laugh for a good half hour. I'm still laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-2308045860371353954?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/2308045860371353954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=2308045860371353954' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2308045860371353954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/2308045860371353954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2008/12/participaction.html' title='participACTION'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6032995711298187171.post-8486376368442458815</id><published>2008-12-29T14:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T16:34:56.677-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='falling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grey Cup'/><title type='text'>falling in montreal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So things make me laugh. Lots of things actually. One of those is people falling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past fall (pun not intended, but still funny), I was in Montreal for the Grey Cup festivities and game. At the game, I had a primetime seat right by the stairs for the seats below me. For some reason unknown to me, every third person was missing the last step. It wasn't hidden, it wasn't half the size of the other steps, it was clearly marked... there was nothing special or different about this step - but so many people missed it. People carrying beer missed the step and then they were wearing their beer. People carrying popcorn missed it and then lost their $9 box of popcorn! Seniors, children, the drunk and the sober all missed this step!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good few hours of enjoyment from watching the people at the game... and parts of the game too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, it was karma that had my number at the end of the day. We were headed back from the Big O on the subway, as we made our way back downtown the trip (again, no pun intended, but it's still funny), nothing eventful really happend. UNTIL - I decided to take the stairs up instead of the escalader... I fell flat on my face!! As I lay with my face so close to the disgusting germ infected filthy subway stairs I had to laugh because karma, my friends, is a bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6032995711298187171-8486376368442458815?l=farleycat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/feeds/8486376368442458815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6032995711298187171&amp;postID=8486376368442458815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8486376368442458815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6032995711298187171/posts/default/8486376368442458815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://farleycat.blogspot.com/2008/12/falling-in-montreal.html' title='falling in montreal'/><author><name>farleycat</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PH4k1itJO0/Sfc0ZWvMNHI/AAAAAAAAADI/Z8PjWYerLws/S220/terri+%26+einstein+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
