<?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-26741854</id><updated>2012-01-22T08:46:37.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark Enterprise</title><subtitle type='html'>Read, and don't take things too seriously, unless you're functionally retarded and don't have a sense of humour...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-1411853588968964274</id><published>2008-11-25T15:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T17:05:52.121-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pathetic...</title><content type='html'>You know what's really funny? Watching someone who thinks so highly of themselves crawling on their knees like some dog.. And for what? Because a girl didn't say yes to them.&lt;br /&gt;I just can't get over how funny it is. I mean, here I am watching it happen so many times in a day and this just isn't about the guys either. For some reason girls as well want someone whenever they can't have them.&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's really nothing pathetic or hilarious about wanting something you can't have, but throwing a hissy fit isn't going to make things better for you. And that's regardless if you're a guy or a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have one question for all of you reading... Tell me, who's dog are you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-1411853588968964274?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/1411853588968964274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=1411853588968964274' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1411853588968964274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1411853588968964274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2008/11/pathetic.html' title='Pathetic...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-5926179367879035015</id><published>2008-03-29T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T09:56:23.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That feeling which you just can't remember...</title><content type='html'>Have you ever just woke up and realized that you were alone? We all say that we've got people there to support and help us but I just can't help by think that we're all essentially alone. Or then again maybe it's just me? I can't help but believe that maybe it was a mistake, in trying to be so independent of people I guess I've essentially isolated myself and made it impossible for me to actually trust anyone, even those I claim to care about and those I call my friends.. I'm not sure if I even trust myself at times...&lt;br /&gt;Oh well... Life goes on regardless... I guess...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-5926179367879035015?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/5926179367879035015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=5926179367879035015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5926179367879035015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5926179367879035015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2008/03/that-feeling-which-you-just-cant.html' title='That feeling which you just can&apos;t remember...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-4906056640033168259</id><published>2007-11-18T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T01:59:22.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>English Class Assignment...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Just like a stone dropped in a puddle of water, all of our actions echo onward towards infinity. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;We rarely think about the long-term consequences of our actions. Most people are in a blissful state of ignorance of the far-reaching implications of their actions, living only for themselves one moment at a time. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Global warming is one such example of man’s inability to comprehend the idea and notion of consequences. The slow but steady destruction of our planet which we had wrought for the last few decades has results which the future generations must deal with, leaving us to continue on our reckless downward-spiral with almost no bounds or restraints. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;The destruction of our planet isn’t the only problem caused by our lack of foresight. For almost every major achievement in all fields from media to medicine we have had to sell just a little bit more of our souls. We’ve given ourselves a new set ethics and morals to combat our guilt and make us feel just a little bit better about ourselves. We’ve tried and succeeded in justifying our actions to ourselves. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Just where will this lead us? What is going to be left of us when we have nothing left of our souls to sell? Most importantly of all, will the forthcoming generations ever forgive the sins of their forefathers? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-4906056640033168259?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/4906056640033168259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=4906056640033168259' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4906056640033168259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4906056640033168259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/11/english-class-assignment.html' title='English Class Assignment...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-4626427395308969090</id><published>2007-11-18T01:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T01:56:23.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More and More..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;People are mostly disgusting little shits that don’t have an excuse to live. I can’t express how disappointed I am with the people I meet in my life and my so called ‘friends’ I’ve realized that the more people claim to ‘love’ and ‘care’ about you, the more likely that they’re simply lying about it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;People don’t really care about one another, well at least not the ‘friends’ I had. One of my biggest regrets in life was when I decided to stop being such an emotionless bastard and to truly care and love my friends. Do you know what it got me?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Bullshit, that’s all I hear from the people around me. So much shit spews from their mouths that it’s hard to believe it isn’t being used as a substitute sewage system. All I hear is excuses and lies and I’m finally sick of it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;If you’re going to say that you have friends and that you all care about each other and really truly love each other, well you can just go on right ahead and blow me you pathetic fuck…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-4626427395308969090?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/4626427395308969090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=4626427395308969090' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4626427395308969090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4626427395308969090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-and-more.html' title='More and More..'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-2503259318655833591</id><published>2007-10-28T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T05:54:09.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 'Other' People</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Every day as I walk into college, I see lots of different people. Most of the people I come in contact with are (somewhat) normal, while others are strange and magical creatures. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Those that are better known as the “Raw” (Pronounced: ra-oh) fall into the latter category.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;These people are fairly common in Oman and are usually attracted to places such as “City Center” and stairs for some obscure reason, recent studies have also concluded that they are highly attracted to grass as well. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Other notable features are their women’s bat like appearance. While the men are usually dressed in either a white dishdasha with long oily hair or in a really tight brightly colored shirt and a pair of horrible jeans, the women are clad exclusively in a black outfit which gives the illusion of them floating on air. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;When approaching these people, great care must be taken to ensure a safe and pleasant experience while interacting. I shall make a separate cautionary list for both men and women. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Men: If you’re not wearing a dishdasha or an unusually horrible outfit be prepared for them to stare at you. It’s also advisable to look away from the women. While some of them aren’t disgustingly ugly, they believe in ‘love at first sight’ and having a bat like creature following you around like some lost puppy isn’t exactly most people’s idea of fun. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Women: Run away on sight. These people are aggressive and will usually signal for your attention through the use of mating calls and such. Examples of mating calls are: High pitched noises resembling a bird squawk, rudimentary use of the vocal cords to mimic laughter and an indescribable noise which sounds like a dying cat to the human ear. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-2503259318655833591?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/2503259318655833591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=2503259318655833591' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2503259318655833591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2503259318655833591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/10/other-people.html' title='The &apos;Other&apos; People'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-3465096376376002955</id><published>2007-10-16T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T04:34:26.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't think of one right now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You always think you’ve seen it all. You think that you’ve got people figured out and you could think that you’ve found the perfect friends, people who are honest and would stick with you but the truth is people are deceptive little shits, you think you know what someone is like and you think that you can trust them, but that beautiful little illusion will come crashing down all around you the moment you let your guard down. Some people find it hard to not trust someone, when someone looks you straight in the eye and tells you to trust them. Maybe I’ve just grown soft lately, I guess in the end you can’t rely on anyone but yourself, there’s no one who’s real except you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-3465096376376002955?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/3465096376376002955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=3465096376376002955' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3465096376376002955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3465096376376002955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/10/cant-think-of-one-right-now.html' title='Can&apos;t think of one right now...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-4872554811641318541</id><published>2007-09-08T01:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T01:59:22.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We go through life make choices, we choose who are friends are and through that choice, we inevitably decide who we become as well. Some people affect us more than others and sometimes we make the mistake of getting too close to a person, the problem arises when we care about a person possibly a little more than we care about ourselves, it is at that time that we are faced with only two options, do we risk it all and go on instinct, or do we torment ourselves and decide to keep it all in? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We are selfish creatures by nature, nobody would help someone else if it didn’t make them feel better of themselves, it’s a shallow truth and might not be true of everyone, but they’re merely the exception that proves the rule. This is why we are so confused when we meet someone else that makes us feel so good about ourselves that we begin to care about their happiness more than we care about our own.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Therefore something that once seemed innocent takes a more selfish route the more time and thought we give to it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes, we have no choice but to hurt ourselves. To cut off ourselves until the moment that we can regroup and gain control of our emotions once more, is it really selfish to risk everything just so we don’t lose someone close? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-4872554811641318541?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/4872554811641318541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=4872554811641318541' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4872554811641318541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4872554811641318541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/09/choices.html' title='Choices...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-7146090894890169129</id><published>2007-04-24T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T04:40:26.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Class Essay</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It never fails to amaze me what I can get away with in class, I mean I know I’ve done a lot of things I shouldn’t have in class but getting full marks on the following essay is really something I’m proud of.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, our teacher asked us to write about our childhood. He asked to be honest if we could and all that. I decided to record all the dirty details of my childhood, to literally spill my heart out on that blank piece of paper I had been given. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here goes my English essay, titled: My Childhood&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t honestly say I’ve had a happy childhood, but then again it has helped shape me into the person that you see standing here before you today. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was born to a young couple who constantly told me how much they loved me just before they shat all over me. I guess it wasn’t enough that I was neglected as an only child because they soon decided to bring another child into this cruel and depressing world, a year later I was cursed with a baby brother whom they favored over me because unlike me, he was white(er).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Growing up wasn’t easy for me either, I was constantly bullied during my earlier years from Kindergarten till the 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; grade when my Latin-American school teacher offered me protection from the bullies, in return all I had to do was spend time alone with her during the breaks and after school. I thought it was alright back then, I didn’t know they had a name for people like that. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After my turbulent 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; grade and following a police investigation on child exploitation, I decided that I needed to switch schools, to make a fresh start if you know what I mean. Life in the 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; grade was much better for me, I learnt how to make friends. I had also learnt how to defend myself but later that year something terrible was to happen. I still can’t talk about what happened during that day, but I learnt one thing, not all drug deals with the Jamaicans are destined to succeed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, there you have it, the cold hard naked truth of my childhood…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I would’ve wrote more, but damn the 40 minutes they give us to write something in class. That and because I spend more time talking than doing my work in English. :-p&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-7146090894890169129?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/7146090894890169129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=7146090894890169129' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7146090894890169129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7146090894890169129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/04/english-class-essay.html' title='English Class Essay'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-7331469206656101194</id><published>2007-04-09T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T07:57:06.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The enviroment sucks...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;There is nothing called global warming…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I’ve heard of a lot of bullshit in my life, but geez…This is seriously some of the most ridiculous crap I’ve ever heard. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I mean, c’mon just think about it? Even if they are right? What’s the big deal? Most scientists say it won’t affect us for at least 100 years?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;And I doubt any of us will live long enough to witness the sea’s drying up and the mountaintops exploding in blazing inferno. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;And even if they do, won’t that be awesome? We barely get to see anything interesting happening these days.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;If you ask me, I just think that Mother Nature’s been getting really lazy these days.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I blame junk food and obesity on it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;And what’s gotten into people these days?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Do people honestly believe that eating healthy is more important than looking good?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Do people actually think that what you are deep down inside you is what counts?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Face it, you live in a shallow world, the only thing people are going to judge you by your face and how fat you are.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;This is a shallow planet we live on; it’s time we adapt to it… &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-7331469206656101194?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/7331469206656101194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=7331469206656101194' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7331469206656101194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7331469206656101194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/04/enviroment-sucks.html' title='The enviroment sucks...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-7179869583071169921</id><published>2007-04-01T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T03:02:03.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The reason I don't post?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Geez, It’s been a while since I last posted anything and all I blame is school. They give us so much shit to do these days it’s really not funny. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Every day we get &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a ton of homework and worksheets and shit and shit and shit and bullshit and fuckshit and gayshit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;And there’s so much shit that’s been going on in my life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;My friends don’t talk anymore, I don’t enjoy their company, &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My cats are all pregnant and shit, my house was set on fire…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Ugh, the thing is I’m a lazy fuck and everything I’ve just said was bullshit…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I need to come up with better excuses…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-7179869583071169921?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/7179869583071169921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=7179869583071169921' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7179869583071169921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7179869583071169921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/04/reason-i-dont-post.html' title='The reason I don&apos;t post?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-5761290452674727521</id><published>2007-03-10T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:41.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bicycle Gangsta!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLy84AaKAI/AAAAAAAAACQ/kFGkOjxZ_kc/s1600-h/entrancenerd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLy84AaKAI/AAAAAAAAACQ/kFGkOjxZ_kc/s320/entrancenerd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040358060621178882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know, just when I thought people couldn’t get any stupider. The kids go and do something else that gets on my nerves. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyone who’s ever been to Shitti has probably seen the latest trend.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No, I’m not talking about boys wearing pink shirts and tiaras on their heads. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;While that is becoming the new ‘it’ trend, since all the ‘cool’ (read: Homosexual) boys are doing it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What I’m referring to is the new fad of riding your bicycle. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That’s right, they’ve completely and utterly lost it…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bicycles…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What the fuck?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Why? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean I’d understand if they actually need it to get from one place to another, but just to show off?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean they look like a group of wanna be gangsta bikers…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m actually afraid to walk by them in case their stupidity rubs on me or something…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  Now, if they looked anything like the girl above...I wouldn't be complaining...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-5761290452674727521?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/5761290452674727521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=5761290452674727521' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5761290452674727521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5761290452674727521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-know-just-when-i-thought-people.html' title='Bicycle Gangsta!'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLy84AaKAI/AAAAAAAAACQ/kFGkOjxZ_kc/s72-c/entrancenerd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-4218498395752048606</id><published>2007-03-10T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:41.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EXTREME!!! WOOO!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLyoIAaJ_I/AAAAAAAAACI/oEB6gmyXfwg/s1600-h/xtreme_dtot1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLyoIAaJ_I/AAAAAAAAACI/oEB6gmyXfwg/s320/xtreme_dtot1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040357704138893298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There comes a time in a man’s life, when he must eventually take an Extreme Shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A man has the option of choosing both when and where to take a shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some prefer to do it on their rooftops with the sun (or the moon) as their only witness (As well as any neighbors who have nothing better to do) , while others prefer the safety and seclusion of their own private bathrooms where they are free to scream in pain from the act of pushing an object through their colon tract and out their anus.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Taking an Extreme Shit is simple often enough, the man must place his anus upon some sort of hollowed seat or paper bag and begin using his well developed colon muscles to push the offending brown object quickly and smoothly out of his anus.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The act of taking an Extreme Shit is often time consuming and if care is not taken, it could result in an early (usually painful) death.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Extreme care and caution must be taken before and after to ensure the safety of not only the shitter but those around him as well, since the noxious fumes released are extremely poisonous and will kill all those within a 10 mile radius. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is generally advisable to avoid eating anything that may cause diarrhea.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For those unfamiliar with the term, Extreme Diarrhea Shitting is an extreme form of the sport in which the shit will flow through the colon tract at half the speed of light, causing extreme damage to the anus upon exit, the diarrhea shitter will usually scream in extreme agony as it’s not really enjoyable to have what feels like acid burst through your ass.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the more classic form of shitting the only tools a man would need would be the following:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Water&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Toilet      Paper&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A spoon (A shovel is needed if you’re      obese)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The water is used as both a lubricant and as a source of hydration in case the Extreme Shit takes over a day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The toilet paper is used for cleaning up both the mess and any passersby. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The spoon is used for shoveling anything that might still linger inside you which you’re unable to push out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Welcome to the world of Extreme Shitting…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-4218498395752048606?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/4218498395752048606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=4218498395752048606' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4218498395752048606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4218498395752048606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/03/extreme-wooo.html' title='EXTREME!!! WOOO!!!'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RfLyoIAaJ_I/AAAAAAAAACI/oEB6gmyXfwg/s72-c/xtreme_dtot1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-978319177355007392</id><published>2007-03-01T04:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:41.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HELP!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RebL4IYhvGI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nTIvu8Yt6hg/s1600-h/DSC00096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RebL4IYhvGI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nTIvu8Yt6hg/s320/DSC00096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036937398443949154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Neither was I, but you don't see me complaining about it. Do you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-978319177355007392?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/978319177355007392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=978319177355007392' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/978319177355007392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/978319177355007392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/03/help.html' title='HELP!'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RebL4IYhvGI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nTIvu8Yt6hg/s72-c/DSC00096.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-1699429903153746103</id><published>2007-02-28T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:41.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dreams...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/ReW86YYhvFI/AAAAAAAAABw/6bhvT89aUIY/s1600-h/Cross-Mini-Pink-Large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/ReW86YYhvFI/AAAAAAAAABw/6bhvT89aUIY/s320/Cross-Mini-Pink-Large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036639469447527506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hey all, I know I haven’t been posting for a while. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s just that I’ve gotten really busy these past couple of weeks and just didn’t have the time to post anything. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And since I’m still fresh out of ideas, I’ve decided to post something off of my diary instead. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Diary, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate my friend, she’s such a bitch…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Awain, I have to wear all pink for her stupid birthday party. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But, I don’t have any pink dresses, after my old one got torn trying to run away from my rapist ex-boyfriend…But enough about that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just want to know, when will I go to my first dance? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When will I get my first kiss? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When will I finally meet a boy who loves me? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean, aren’t these questions every girl thinks about? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then why do I feel like nobody’s ever gone through what I went through? Why do I feel so alone? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And why is my friend being such a bitch about her party? I mean, I’m happy for her and all, But can’t she see what I’m going through? Waxing my legs is painful, PMS is painful...Sometimes I wish I wasn't a girl, just to escape all the pain...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes I just want to spread my wings and fly, to meet my prince charming, to enjoy the sights and sounds of the most romantic cities in the world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve got dreams…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My dreams…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These are my dreams…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-1699429903153746103?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/1699429903153746103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=1699429903153746103' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1699429903153746103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1699429903153746103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-dreams.html' title='My Dreams...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/ReW86YYhvFI/AAAAAAAAABw/6bhvT89aUIY/s72-c/Cross-Mini-Pink-Large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-8956879059542696521</id><published>2007-02-15T06:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:42.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop Sending me Forwards and Spam</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdR02uRSYjI/AAAAAAAAABY/6eykn5vAEnY/s1600-h/friendsforeverchainletter2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 532px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdR02uRSYjI/AAAAAAAAABY/6eykn5vAEnY/s400/friendsforeverchainletter2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031775167161983538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/invalid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/invalid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder really, when did Forwards first come into existence?&lt;br /&gt;Who made them?&lt;br /&gt;Was it some lonely teen? Sitting all alone in front of his computer monitor, typing away on his brand new Intel 133?&lt;br /&gt;Was he so attention starved that he decided to cook up some story about an evil monkey that has made the internet its home, and that you have to forward the email to 300 of your friends, or else the evil monkey will take a diarrhea dump on your head by midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who the hell would be so stupid as to believe that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, everyone I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if those aren’t bad enough, you’ve got the friendship forwards.&lt;br /&gt;They go something like this:&lt;br /&gt;If you are my friend and blah blah blah…Send this message back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it look like I’m sitting here with nothing better to do except send you back, the same message you sent me?&lt;br /&gt;Does hitting the reply button make me a good friend?&lt;br /&gt;Or do people just want proof that they exist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what’s up with people and penis enlargement?&lt;br /&gt;How big of an idiot do you have to believe that using an air pump will actually work?&lt;br /&gt;And who the hell came up with the idea in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I’ve got a better question, who discovered how to milk a cow? And what was he doing at that moment?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-8956879059542696521?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/8956879059542696521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=8956879059542696521' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/8956879059542696521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/8956879059542696521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/stop-sending-me-forwards-and-spam_15.html' title='Stop Sending me Forwards and Spam'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdR02uRSYjI/AAAAAAAAABY/6eykn5vAEnY/s72-c/friendsforeverchainletter2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-6085398075309988615</id><published>2007-02-12T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:42.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YAY! VALENTINES!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCaneRSYhI/AAAAAAAAABI/uy2Yk05449A/s1600-h/bear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCaneRSYhI/AAAAAAAAABI/uy2Yk05449A/s320/bear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY! VALENTINES IS COMING UP!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, I don’t have a reason to be happy this year.&lt;br /&gt;Shit, well since I don’t have the balls to confess my feelings to you.&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna let this picture do all the talking…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-6085398075309988615?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/6085398075309988615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=6085398075309988615' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6085398075309988615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6085398075309988615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/yay-valentines-is-coming-up-wait-i-dont.html' title='YAY! VALENTINES!!'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCaneRSYhI/AAAAAAAAABI/uy2Yk05449A/s72-c/bear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-2382102581927302556</id><published>2007-02-12T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:42.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life just isn't what you expect...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCYmuRSYfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/D7Ck0AfZOlo/s1600-h/_Pyramid_Head__by_DeadCamper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="clear: both; float: right;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCYmuRSYfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/D7Ck0AfZOlo/s320/_Pyramid_Head__by_DeadCamper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  So, you felt like she was the one? Like, nobody would ever make you feel the way she did?&lt;br /&gt;Well, you’re not the only one.&lt;br /&gt;We all go through it, one time or another. The lucky ones are those who can live life without being emotionally attached to anyone at all.&lt;br /&gt;What a blessing really, to manage living your whole life without caring about someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how bad it seems, no matter how perfect she is, she’s not the only one, and she won’t be the last person to make you feel like that.&lt;br /&gt;Sure, it may not be often, hell it’ll probably only happen a few times during your whole miserable life, but unfortunately it’ll happen again, whether you want it to or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life isn’t a fucking fairytale.&lt;br /&gt;The movies you’ve watched, the books you’ve read and the songs you’ve heard?&lt;br /&gt;They’re full of shit, and you know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don’t bother giving me that shit, claiming that nobody’s ever felt the way you do.&lt;br /&gt;This world is small, nasty and complicated…Everybody dies alone.&lt;br /&gt;But you’re not the only one to feel like your life has lost meaning, you’re not first person to think you’ll never love again, and you won’t be the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’ve got no one but yourself to blame for the state you’re in.&lt;br /&gt;And you know it.&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-2382102581927302556?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/2382102581927302556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=2382102581927302556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2382102581927302556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2382102581927302556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/so-you-felt-like-she-was-one-like.html' title='Life just isn&apos;t what you expect...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RdCYmuRSYfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/D7Ck0AfZOlo/s72-c/_Pyramid_Head__by_DeadCamper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-7376567150774074959</id><published>2007-02-08T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:42:43.045-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Transistory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RctpRuRSYcI/AAAAAAAAAAk/m9pTiqWN_oA/s1600-h/1111829601_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RctpRuRSYcI/AAAAAAAAAAk/m9pTiqWN_oA/s320/1111829601_l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit&lt;br /&gt;Really? Tell me something I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;You don’t know what I’m going through&lt;br /&gt;Yes I do actually, or did you forget that I’m part of you?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;You’re just being gay you know, letting it consume you the way it does&lt;br /&gt;She’s got a name, she’s not some sort of object&lt;br /&gt;Heh, you keep telling yourself that, they’re all objects, you’ll get over her&lt;br /&gt;No, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s been going on for far too long, I can’t control it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;You mean you can’t control me, face it you queer, I’m here to stay&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if I can feel anymore&lt;br /&gt;She’s killing you, you fag. Stop it&lt;br /&gt;I can’t, I can’t control anything anymore&lt;br /&gt;Well, looks like I’m gonna have to interfere again&lt;div style="clear: both;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-7376567150774074959?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/7376567150774074959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=7376567150774074959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7376567150774074959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7376567150774074959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-feel-like-shit-really-tell-me.html' title='No Transistory'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/RctpRuRSYcI/AAAAAAAAAAk/m9pTiqWN_oA/s72-c/1111829601_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-1835861191438509402</id><published>2007-02-08T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T01:51:15.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to flirt and be awesome...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hey everyone, I know that many guys just don’t know how to flirt in general and usually look for that magical line that’ll give them the power to get any girl they want. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, I’m here to teach you guys everything you need and more.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, without wasting any more time, let’s get started. Shall we?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Step 1&lt;/b&gt;: Appearance&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Being well groomed is really important, well not really. Just as long as you don’t smell like something that crawled up a person’s ass and died you’re pretty much alright, oh and make sure your clothes fit and don’t have holes in them, unless you’re making a fashion statement, which means you shouldn’t be reading this because you’re a queer.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Penis enlargement pills will not help you at this stage; I mean you can’t expect to come through flying out of the bushes with your giant donkey dick flapping in the air and expect her to just lie down and spread her legs. Or can you?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Step 2&lt;/b&gt;: Approaching&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, this step is really important, first impressions can make all the difference. Whether you get the girl or not, it’ll be this step that decides it all. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, the following steps all depend on the type of girl you’re after, so I’ll break it down for y’all…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If she’s Normal/Girly: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Get      some pink clothes and let your sister apply makeup on you, they’ll love it      if you’re kinda gay (If you’re completely gay, I don’t even wanna know why      you’re reading this). Don’t forget to completely wax your body because      hair is just gross. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Alright,      for the pickup line use the following: “Is you’re father a thief? Because      someone must’ve stolen the stars out of the sky and put them in your      eyes.”&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If she’s Gangsta:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Get      oversized clothes for this one, wear anything that you see on a rap video      on T.V. or better yet, just go outside and wear the same exact clothes      that everyone else is wearing. Because originality and being yourself      isn’t really important anymore. Neither is it attractive to the opposite      sex. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Alright,      here’s the pickup line: “Iz yo fadda a deif? Cuz someone be stealin dem      starz from da sky and be puttin dem in yo eyebawls babez” &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;If she’s Rocker/Goth/Emo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Wear      black, steal your sisters pants, and her mascara as well. Why? Because      you’re depressed, you hate everything and everyone, and nobody gets you      either, that’s why.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Using      a pickup line on these kind of people just isn’t gonna work, because      they’re way too wrapped up in their own despair and if you ask if their      father is a thief, they’ll not only tell you how he steals everyday from      his own daughters purse, she’ll also tell you how he molests her everyday,      how her first boyfriend dumped her for a total BITCH and how depressed she      is in general. So here’s what to do:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="A"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Write      depressing poetry, like how the sky is black and your soul is even darker.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Cut      yourself, the sight of your scars and self harming is a major turn for      people like that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;Well that’s all folks…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;Love and respect…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-1835861191438509402?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/1835861191438509402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=1835861191438509402' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1835861191438509402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1835861191438509402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-to-flirt-and-be-awesome.html' title='How to flirt and be awesome...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-3503932535558781312</id><published>2007-02-07T00:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T00:48:41.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hume Male</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anytime you venture out of the safety of your home planet and into the atmosphere of the tiny blue planet known as earth, you’re bound to meet &lt;i&gt;Homo sapiens&lt;/i&gt; otherwise known as humans.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Humans are known to be the descendents of monkeys and not mice as some sources may claim, although humans are known to be extremely ashamed of their ancestors and keep them locked up in cages for their own pleasure, possibly as a reminder to their origin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some researches claim that the human went through an evolutionary stage known as the &lt;i&gt;Yeti &lt;/i&gt;or &lt;i&gt;Bigfoot, &lt;/i&gt;generally thought to be larger than the common human and covered in a thick fur, either brown or white in color.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Humans are an extremely intelligent race compared to the other species living on the planet, such as &lt;i&gt;penguins.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Upon closer inspection of this magnificent creature we can easily define two major sub-groups. They are known as the male and female sub-groups of the species, some experts argue that they are two completely different species who have formed a symbiotic relationship during evolution. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The female sub-group will be discussed in detail later, for this essay we will discuss the male sub-group:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. Appearance&lt;/b&gt;: Men appear to be slightly larger than that of women and also carry an extra organ between their legs, used either as a status symbol or in some cases a weapon. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Men are generally hairier than women although it has been noted that there are women who do not shave and often have an amount of hair that surpasses that of men, these women are commonly referred to as &lt;i&gt;ugly &lt;/i&gt;and &lt;i&gt;fat&lt;/i&gt; and are shunned by most men in the community. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Men in general have the ability to grow facial hair and the skill to control the size of the large organ between their legs. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. Habits&lt;/b&gt;: It is to be noted that men generally scratch at the crotch area and when walking attempt to place both hands in a position which clearly defend the crotch area against any surprise attack. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Men generally engage in bouts of superiority, when a dominant male approaches another of lower status the following conversation may be noticed: &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dom: Hi!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sub: Hey…&lt;br /&gt;Dom: That’s an awesome pair of shoes you’ve got.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sub: Uhh, thanks.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dom: Mind giving them to me?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sub: Wha?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dom: DIE BITCH DIE!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The dominant male at this time will attack the male of lower standing and claim the superior foot wear for himself, regardless if it fits or not. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scientists have still not understood this behavior and no further research has been conducted. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. Intelligence&lt;/b&gt;: The male species is extremely intelligent and myths regarding the imbalance of intelligence between sexes are grossly overstated. Men in general have the cognitive ability to discuss a wide array of subjects ranging from the size of their penis to the size of their balls, although usually discussions are competitive in nature, their intelligence is not to be underestimated. They are able to ask for information, find faults in a logical argument and in some cases will even attempt to introduce some new information that may deny common sense and logic. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dom: Hey man, did you know my balls are bigger than yours.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sub: Not really, check these out. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The submissive male at this point will take off his pants to prove that the dominant male is wrong, therefore stripping him of his status. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dom: Damn, they really are huge. You rule man.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The final words are the recognition of the dominant male that he has been replaced by a new male. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Sex&lt;/b&gt;: Men are generally occupied with the thought of sex and will never pass down a chance at procreation. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Studies have shown that men not capable of reproduction with a suitable female at an early age grow desperate and rely heavily on the use of their hands for relief. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Studies have also shown that men rely heavily on the size of their reproductive organ to attract members of the opposite sex, although this too is inconclusive and requires additional research. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is to be noted that men if angered will forcefully have sex with one another.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dom: Fuck you!&lt;br /&gt;Sub: NO! FUCK YOU!!&lt;br /&gt;Dom: That’s it, I’m gonna fuck you so hard up the ass, that you’re gonna shit diarrhea through your dick!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-3503932535558781312?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/3503932535558781312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=3503932535558781312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3503932535558781312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3503932535558781312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/anytime-you-venture-out-of-safety-of.html' title='The Hume Male'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-4719102073870330863</id><published>2007-02-07T00:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T00:19:58.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tom the Horny Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tom wasn’t an ordinary person like you and me. No, he was quite different.&lt;br /&gt;Well, for one thing, he was a cat, with four paws, a tail, and beautiful fur covering him from head to tail.&lt;br /&gt;He was a beautiful cat, a golden brown all over, and he knew it.&lt;br /&gt;You see, Tom was very horny.&lt;br /&gt;Tom was so horny, he’d screw any cat that passed by his way. Sometimes, Tom would have sex with little boy kittens too.&lt;br /&gt;Now you see, Tom was actually well brought up and learnt all there was about STD’s and STI’s at a very young age.&lt;br /&gt;And because Tom was very very clever, he managed to go through life without even getting pubic lice, which everyone is supposed to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But one day, Tom made a terrible mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Boys and Girls, do you know what that mistake was?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom fell in love.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She was a beautiful white Persian, and Tom couldn’t resist her.&lt;br /&gt;Tom had to have her as soon as he could, so he waited. And he waited.&lt;br /&gt;Until she walked into a dark alley where she wasn’t supposed to go.&lt;br /&gt;And that’s when Tom decided to rape her.&lt;br /&gt;Tom had his way with her.&lt;br /&gt;Tom was quite happy.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But Tom made a mistake, Tom wasn’t wearing a condom.&lt;br /&gt;And the beautiful white Persian carried a disease known as AIDS!&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Do you know what happened to Tom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His penis turned green and fell off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morale of this story is this:&lt;br /&gt;If you’re gonna rape someone, make sure she doesn’t have any diseases, or better yet, carry a condom on you at all times.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-4719102073870330863?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/4719102073870330863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=4719102073870330863' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4719102073870330863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/4719102073870330863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/02/tom-horny-cat.html' title='Tom the Horny Cat'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-3101367314673567307</id><published>2007-01-30T02:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T02:44:23.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chem Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, we’re almost done with all of our exams and shit, and for those wondering what the toughest test was, it would have to be the chemistry exam.&lt;br /&gt;To even try and tell you how it felt like, you’re gonna need a really angry donkey and your butthole.&lt;br /&gt;I can’t even begin to explain how it felt to hear a whole school full of 17-18 year olds yell in pain as the exam anally raped them, at the same time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m not gonna be surprised if the test fathered children. &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Seriously, what were they thinking when they wrote the test?&lt;br /&gt;What, do they just hate children? Or was the guy raped by a donkey when he was a little kid and just wanted the rest of us to know what he went through?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Stupid fucks really…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-3101367314673567307?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/3101367314673567307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=3101367314673567307' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3101367314673567307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3101367314673567307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/01/chem-test.html' title='Chem Test'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-3346188642308173992</id><published>2007-01-30T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T02:43:39.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Supression</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know, it’s been a while since I last wrote anything. Maybe it’s because of all the shitty school work we’ve been getting, but after 300 words of why the cat jumped over the fence. You start running out of ideas. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe he was a really horny cat, and just wanted some casual sex with the neighbor. But with education being a controlling bastard, there’s no way you’re can write that and get away with it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I thought the whole point of education was so we can become productive individuals, not mind controlled puppets who can’t write about Tom the horny cat. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For all of you out there who think education sucks because it’s raping your imagination sideways. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s nothing you can do about it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-3346188642308173992?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/3346188642308173992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=3346188642308173992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3346188642308173992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/3346188642308173992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2007/01/supression.html' title='Supression'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-5636847435782373944</id><published>2006-10-27T10:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:10:54.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored Shitless...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Have you ever woken up to the thought that your life is basically shit, I mean sure you’re happy when you live it moment to moment, but just take one good hard look at who you are and you’ll probably go into a state of depression. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Are you really happy with the kind of friends you’ve got?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do you think that you could’ve done better?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What kind of life would I have had if I’d done things differently?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And just how much of a useless emotion is regret? It doesn’t solve anything and it drains energy that could be better spent trying to actually change things rather than just sitting alone sulking about it…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-5636847435782373944?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/5636847435782373944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=5636847435782373944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5636847435782373944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5636847435782373944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/bored-shitless.html' title='Bored Shitless...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-6670795066987805252</id><published>2006-10-27T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:10:25.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Technology has affected us in just about everything we do; it’s changed just about every aspect of our lives. Everything from education to transport has been changed by our constant evolution.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not all of it is good though; let’s take communication and social interaction as an example: &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;New advances in technology have made communication something simple and easy, keeping in touch with dozens of friends isn’t merely possible, it’s become common but what most forms of communication these days lack is a sort of humanity between people, it’s become something emotionless, almost meaningless.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It used to be possible to understand someone by how they talked, a sly smile, a trembling of their voice, using a keyboard to talk to someone creates an emotional barrier and electronics convey words, not emotions.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What’ll become of us in the future? Will we completely fail to recognize emotions as we evolve? Or will we somehow develop something that’ll allow us to recognize emotions across great distances?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What will become of us? Will we lose our humanity and become nothing more than soulless shells, a sad reminder to what we used to be? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-6670795066987805252?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/6670795066987805252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=6670795066987805252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6670795066987805252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6670795066987805252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/technology.html' title='Technology'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-7195616474591252973</id><published>2006-10-27T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:09:41.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Friends are supposed to be there for you when you need them, they’re supposed to support you in your dreams and your ambitions and they’re supposed to tell you what’s right and what’s wrong. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe that used to be true in a time before I was born because the definition of a friend has changed. We live in an age where backstabbing has become common and some might argue that it’s even become necessary in this day and age. If your friends are holding you back why let them? Wouldn’t it be better if you could just cut loose those ties that bind you? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Friends that you could actually rely on in time of need and crises are so rare they might as well not exist. What about the few those are there for you when you need them? Give them some time, they’ll change soon enough how foolish and naïve they were their whole lives, effectively turning them into something they probably thought they’d never turn into.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We live in an age that has no pity for the naïve and foolish. A world that has no need for friends, where the only thing they can do is hold you back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-7195616474591252973?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/7195616474591252973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=7195616474591252973' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7195616474591252973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/7195616474591252973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/friends.html' title='Friends?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-1825891506199191090</id><published>2006-10-17T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T10:31:25.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the worst that can happen?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What’s the worst thing that could happen to a man? What’s worse than losing all your limbs and living the rest of your life as a cripple? What can be worse than living in the innards of a whale with only its unborn child for company? What is worse than being stuffed in a sack with a dog, a monkey and a snake while you’re slowly drowning? Is there anything worse than being eaten alive by a giant rat monkey?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is there such a thing worse than eternal damnation? Can life get any worse after you kill your entire family in a fit of rage? Is there anything more painful than sacrificing someone you love for a few moments of life? Can life get any worse than when you’ve lost it all? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yes…It’s called ANAL RAPE!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-1825891506199191090?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/1825891506199191090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=1825891506199191090' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1825891506199191090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/1825891506199191090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/whats-worst-that-can-happen.html' title='What&apos;s the worst that can happen?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-6385005687944105898</id><published>2006-10-17T10:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T10:29:48.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Realization</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve finally understood my dream; I can finally claim to understand myself. I have come to the realization that this is the future:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fat women turn into horrible monsters whose only forms of sustenance are men, they’ll ride in on giant land whales that will fight the dragons in an eternal war. Cities will crumble as the vibrations from the giants cause earthquakes and tidal waves that will wash the planet and cleanse it for mans triumphant return. Year’s later man will join the dragons that have reclaimed the sky and finally kill the fat women and their land whales. After that a delicate peace will form between the dragons and the surviving men having grown tired at eating nothing but dead fat monster women and land whales will wish for something that tastes like chicken and will open a new restaurant chain called Dragon Flame…The dragons won’t find out that they’re the main course until it’s too late…Then years later after the world becomes a better place people will realize that because the fat monsters killed all the hot chicks life can no longer go on and half the men will turn into fairies (Not the ones with wings who live in trees). This will bring about the wrath of Balunoob the fairy that will open up a rift in time sending all the fairies back into their mother’s womb and then the sun will explode and the only survivor will be a hermaphrodite who will single handedly repopulate the earth…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-6385005687944105898?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/6385005687944105898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=6385005687944105898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6385005687944105898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6385005687944105898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/realization.html' title='Realization'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-2857234746355919291</id><published>2006-10-12T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T16:53:14.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve had one of the strangest dreams I can recall, I remember waking up on an island or something, I hear this strange sound and look up to see a group of jet airliners with smoke streaming behind them, it was all deathly quite until they crashed into the water…That just made no sense at all to me…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-2857234746355919291?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/2857234746355919291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=2857234746355919291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2857234746355919291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2857234746355919291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/wtf.html' title='WTF?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-6049459737596775804</id><published>2006-10-11T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T17:27:39.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shiranui</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am just so fucking tired, I can’t go to sleep and when I do close my eyes there’s this white wolf with a paintbrush that seems to be invading my thoughts. I seriously don’t get myself. Recently I’ve felt like I just lost my manhood. If you’re wondering how that feels, let me give you an explanation: First you feel yourself becoming lighter and then your manhood (Both of them) begins to roll away from you and just before you get to it, a bunch of kids begin stepping on them with a kind of morbid glee.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know what I’m going through right now, is it denial? Is it depression? Or am I just being oversensitive to my own thoughts?&lt;/p&gt;                              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean could I have done things differently?&lt;br /&gt;Could I really have been a different person?&lt;br /&gt;Do I have to change my whole personality?&lt;br /&gt;The fault lies in you.&lt;br /&gt;You should’ve had the guts.&lt;br /&gt;Why the fuck were you such a pussy?&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t help myself, I panicked…&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give me that shit, you’re fucking lying to yourself and you know it.&lt;br /&gt;So what if I am? Denial doesn’t change anything but it’s easier than dealing with the truth.&lt;br /&gt;So that’s what you’re fucking going to do? Run the fuck away from the truth every time it happens?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;Fucking liar…&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;That’s better, now go fucking deal with it. I’m sick of bailing you out of your shit, you’re going to have to get through this without me… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-6049459737596775804?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/6049459737596775804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=6049459737596775804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6049459737596775804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6049459737596775804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/shiranui.html' title='Shiranui'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-5131746279262470211</id><published>2006-10-08T06:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T06:53:40.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How hard is it to admit that you’ve got feelings? That you care about someone? How hard is it to tell someone how you feel about them? Why are we afraid to lay all it all out in the open? Maybe it’s because we’re afraid to show someone yourself in your weakest state ever? Why do we care about what others think about us? Why do we keep on repeating our mistakes? Why do we allow others to have a hold over us? Why do we give them the power that makes us nothing more than puppets in their hands?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-5131746279262470211?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/5131746279262470211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=5131746279262470211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5131746279262470211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/5131746279262470211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/more.html' title='More?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-2552873253031958780</id><published>2006-10-08T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T05:22:22.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Teen Angst...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Emotions suck, they assault your senses when you least expect them, taking over every waking thought, they come creeping into your mind and begin to overpower you leaving you as nothing more than a mere shell of your former self. Everything ceases to make sense, a lifetime of understanding who you are, your wall of emotions come crashing down around you smothering you in a flurry of emotions, leaving you feeling cold, drained and confused as hell. You never expect who it is either, you live your life oblivious of those feelings and they always seem to awaken within you at the worst times ever, just when you’ve thought you knew who you were, when you think life couldn’t get better…It just has to fucking happen, doesn’t it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-2552873253031958780?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/2552873253031958780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=2552873253031958780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2552873253031958780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/2552873253031958780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/more-teen-angst.html' title='More Teen Angst...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-6686762950281073238</id><published>2006-10-05T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:17:17.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Post...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Love, what is it really? A complex series of emotions linking all human beings together or is it just another myth destined to be revealed as nothing more than a series of lies.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’re always taught to believe in love from such a young age that it seems to be more of a fairy tale covered up in rainbow colored lies and shit then something that can be proved.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m sure everyone has been through all of this at least once and if you haven’t just try and picture everything that I’m about to say in your mind. Every time you look into her big beautiful almond shaped eyes you see a great and positive future with her, you see yourself talking moonlit walks with her on the beach with nothing but the sand and the sound of the waves keeping you company, your hands holding each other in a gentle embrace feeling at the soft flesh of her palm. You imagine your arms wrapping themselves around her small waist, slowly pulling both your bodies together, pretty soon there’s nothing keeping you two apart as both of your sides are lightly touching and images and scenes begin to race through your mind. Should you reach out, spin her around and kiss those smooth tender lips? Or should you go for her beautiful gazelle like neck and gently slide lower until you reach her shoulders as you slowly absorb her scent while your hands seem to take a life of your own and begin to examine and map every part of her young body that they can reach and all the while you wonder about what she desires most, what you can do that will turn her all of her emotions for you into just one animalistic frenzy of desire…Hmm…Or should you just push her onto the sand, take control of the situation and finally claim her with nothing but your passion for each other as your only witness?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Actually, a more realistic situation would be one where she none of the above happens, she’s going to be late, you’re going to be scared, she’s going to be pissed at you for acting like such a wussy, she’s going to go home thinking that you’re a loser without balls and she’s going to hate herself for giving you a chance, even though everyone who actually DID seem confident turned out to be a child molester or a rapist.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shows you how many of our instincts work out against us. Pain, Fear and Lust these three emotions are prime examples of how much of our biological programming is working against us. And the saddest thing of all is that they’re all caused by a release of chemicals in our heads, nothing less and nothing more…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All I can tell you is that people aren’t ever going to wake up to the fact that the “Bad Boys” girls are so attracted to have nothing to offer. But when you compare them to the wussies who’re too afraid to do anything, well you can guess why and based on what they’ve made their choices…If you’re going to bitch about anything, at least realize that it was most likely your fault that things didn’t go the way you wanted them to…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-6686762950281073238?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/6686762950281073238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=6686762950281073238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6686762950281073238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/6686762950281073238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/just-another-post.html' title='Just Another Post...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115997800102564078</id><published>2006-10-04T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T09:06:51.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Sweet Violence...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ah, Violence…Such a beautiful thing, isn’t it? I mean come on. Who hasn’t wished that they’d witness a car accident happening before their eyes? Who hasn’t wished to be in the middle of a war? Who hasn’t wanted to witness a natural disaster happening right before their very eyes? To stand right in the middle of a raging tornado, to bathe in the lava of an exploding volcano (I admit, this one might be not a very common fantasy).&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How many times have you seen a violent movie? Laughed when the little kid got shot in the head? The popularity of movies such as Hostel, Running Scared, &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Sin&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;City&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; or any other movie such as those is a tribute, a kind of constant reminder to the fact that we are obsessed with corruption and violence. Anything ‘bad’ for us is what we want. I guess it’s just human nature to enjoy the suffering of others, as long as it’s not happening to us, what have we got to worry about really?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115997800102564078?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115997800102564078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115997800102564078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115997800102564078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115997800102564078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/10/oh-sweet-violence.html' title='Oh Sweet Violence...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115939452922072498</id><published>2006-09-27T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T15:02:09.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maturity, Is it a good thing?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever met someone and just wanted to scream at them to just act their age? I mean you see this little kid who’s barely old enough to do anything except pass water with his pisser but try and talk to him and suddenly you feel like you’re talking to some geriatric with nothing better to do in his free time but look at pictures of young boys, actually given the way he acts, I wouldn’t be surprised if he does…&lt;br /&gt;I mean it’s alright to be a little mature but when you’re being confused with geriatrics I mean by then you should’ve realized that something’s pretty messed up with the way you’re acting. Why can’t you just take your bike out for a ride and throw rocks at anything that you pass by while you shout something offensive? These kinds of people really scare me. It’s like they’re rushing to get old and if I’m not mistaken, he probably hangs around in a nursing home so he could “hang with his homies”.&lt;br /&gt;Please little kids, go have some fun, leave the cynicism, sarcasm and all that emotional crap about how the world will just love to fuck you over at the slightest chance to those that have actually experienced it and not to people whose idea of experiencing the world is reading old history textbooks when they should be outside playing or doing something lame and stupid or even taking drugs…&lt;br /&gt;And parents, stop it…Your kids want to have fun unless they get picked on and get beaten up at school nobody wants to sit at home and become a smartass at 11 and even if your kid actually does enjoy it…You’ve got yourself a problem, a big one…&lt;br /&gt;One more thing…Intelligence may be a turn on…But at 12…It fucking scares the shit out of me…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115939452922072498?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115939452922072498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115939452922072498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115939452922072498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115939452922072498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/09/maturity-is-it-good-thing.html' title='Maturity, Is it a good thing?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115939444155846124</id><published>2006-09-27T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T15:03:07.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve been wondering lately, do friends really exist or have we finally completely and utterly destroyed all meaning to that term? I mean what does that word mean to you? Someone you can use? Someone who’s there whenever you need something? Someone you have complete control over? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or is it just someone you can share your experiences with? Someone you can have a good time with? Someone who stands by you no matter how tough things get?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Seriously, just like everything else in this age that we live in, friends have become obsolete, something that holds us back, an obstacle to a better future, just one more rock that we have to step over to get where/what we want…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean, I’ve seen people who’ve known each other for years, only to admit that neither likes the other and that the only reason they’re “friends” is because of some mutual gain, something that both cannot afford to lose, these friendships are usually stronger and last longer than two people who’ve known each other since childhood and the only bond between them is that they both know the other person better than they know themselves…But seriously, think about it. What’s the point in having a friend if you can’t exploit him?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How many times have you exploited a friend? How many times have you backstabbed a friend? How many times have you fucked a friend over, just because you got bored of him? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hell, we’re only human after all…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115939444155846124?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115939444155846124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115939444155846124' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115939444155846124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115939444155846124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/09/friends.html' title='Friends?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115920911364425370</id><published>2006-09-25T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T11:31:53.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beast...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The beast stared him in the eye, the hollow of it’s socket seemed to look deep into his soul, like it knew every dirty little secret that he had kept throughout the years, nothing was sacred to the beast, it lived on his fantasy’s but the time to put it down has come.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He wrapped his fist around the base of the beasts head, just where its head connected with its snake like body, it seemed to groan, not realizing that this time was going to be different, it pulsated just like it always does, expanding in size at the merest hint of danger, an ingenious defense mechanism if that was what it truly was. He squeezed the beast, trying to rob it of it’s most precious substance but it seemed to backfire, instead of dying like it should have, the beast rose from it’s slumber, expanding to a size that was as inhuman as it was unholy, It’s hairy base latched on to his legs, it was part of him, he couldn’t escape it anymore…It’s hunger was his own, he felt it’s pain, he realized that it didn’t want to hurt him, but it couldn’t survive without doing so, he slid his hand down it’s base, instead of pain, the motion filled him with pleasure, he couldn’t understand what was happening with the beast, this was something new, something unexpected…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                                                                                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After what seemed like hours, the beast seemed no more done with him then he was done with it, but it couldn’t go on like this forever, it just couldn’t…With the last of his will he pulled out the needle thin knife he always kept with him, and stabbed the beast straight in the eye, It yelled out in pain, and it’s eye exploded, jettisoning a creamy white substance across its lair, the pain was excruciating but there was something else hidden within that emotion…It seemed like waves of pleasure were emanating from the creatures body…Filling the man with thoughts he couldn’t control…His thoughts seemed to no longer belong to him, the beast an evil parasite with the power to control his emotions and thoughts at any moment…He would have to learn to control it if he was to survive… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115920911364425370?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115920911364425370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115920911364425370' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115920911364425370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115920911364425370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/09/beast.html' title='The Beast...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115687091855698676</id><published>2006-08-29T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T10:01:58.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Morning Shit...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;10:28 Am…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a gentle breeze caressing the leaves of the great oak tree that he had grown beneath his window 7 years ago on the day of his marriage, he knew it was dangerous in the likely event of a storm, that the tree could likely snap in half and come crashing down and kill both him and his sleeping wife.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Speaking of his wife, she wasn’t there sleeping next to him as she usually does, it doesn’t matter to him though, he gets up off the bed, the bed sheet running across his smooth muscular body, he decides to go up to the mirror in the room taking a moment to examine himself in the mirror, his chest hair was erect, a bad sign, it had only happened to him once before, back when he was only 7. It was the hair on his head though at that time, not surprising considering he was only a child when it had happened. It was then that the first cramp hit him, doubling him over with pain, ‘Oh shit’ he muttered to himself, little did he realize the truth in those two little words, judging from the pain, he knew he didn’t have much time to reach the bathroom, he should have never trusted his wife to cook, he knew what that thing had done to his mother, it ran in the family, any woman who married into his family lost all of their ability to cook food, nobody ever understood it, and of all those who witnessed what happened, he’s the only one who ever survived, they didn’t believe him, they thought he was crazy, but he knew what he saw, his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he wasn’t a little kid trying to deal with the brutal death of his mother by throwing himself into a sick and twisted little fantasy, ‘Oh no, not again’ he moaned as the second wave hit him like a ton of bricks…Ten seconds later he’s finally reached the door to the bathroom, ‘No…This can’t be happening to me, it just can’t…’ as he realized with sick horror that his wife was inside the bathroom, he could hear her taking a shower inside, he didn’t have time to think there was no time to explain, he stormed through&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;the door, his wife began screaming, thinking that he was crazy, but she didn’t know, she couldn’t know, it wasn’t her fault. He punched her in the face, silencing her, her limp body falling across the basin of the bath, he took her in his arms before her body fell to the floor and heaved her across the bathroom out into the bedroom outside, he winced at the sound her head made as it connected with the bedside table but he had more important things to worry about, he locked the door, and sat upon the toilet waiting for it to happen, this time when the pain came, he wouldn’t hold it in, he’ll let it out, he’ll let it loose or it’ll tear him from the inside out. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s finally time, he could feel his anus expanding as the first jet of gas was forcefully ejected from his body, the stink clogged his nostrils and brought manly tears down from his eyes, he could feel his intestines expanding as they were preparing to eject a massive load down into the toilet, he felt the acid storm through his intestines first, burning the nerves in his anus until he could feel nothing, and that was when it happened. The first jet of liquid shit shot from his ass into the toilet beneath him, sending a stream of shitty water to cover his ass with a fine mist, he could feel it hardening 4 seconds later encrusting his ass like the shell of a turtle, he dry heaved at the smell, the smell was indescribable, the pain was excruciating, he was in pure agony, as every jet of shit felt like a jet fighter scrambling out of his ass. It was only moments later that he could hear that sick maniacal laugh, like a person drowning in a pool of shit laughing his ass off. A wave of pure force threw him off the toilet sending him sliding through the bathroom on the smooth wet tile. A huge humanoid shit began to rise from the toilet. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘What do you want from me’ he asked.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘I want you to tell me my name’ the shit replied.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘You’re Evil Poopoo, the one who killed my mother’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Hardly, your mother’s death was caused by her inability to cook and neither is my name Evil Poopoo that was the name given to me by a desperate little child unable to deal with reality’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Then what is it? What’s your name?’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘I am Lord Diarrhea; I am he who shall take the life of your wife, she who cannot cook’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Never! I won’t let you’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Silence mortal’ shouted Lord Diarrhea as he threw a huge ball of quick dry shit, encrusting him from head to toe in a prison of shit.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;He could do nothing but squirm as he heard the screams of his wife, he could only imagine what was being done to her, he never heard her scream like that, he never heard anyone make those noises before, soon all he could hear were the gurgling sounds as he knew she was drowning in a pool of his own shit… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115687091855698676?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115687091855698676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115687091855698676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115687091855698676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115687091855698676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/08/morning-shit.html' title='The Morning Shit...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115591369280980865</id><published>2006-08-18T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T09:30:06.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mothers Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was a hot summers night, she was sitting at home all alone dressed in a pair of old jeans that were torn around the edges and a loose fitting white shirt, the shirt wasn’t hers and she doesn’t remember his name either.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s a strange feeling when your life, the one you’ve envisioned for yourself, the one you think you deserve, the one you’ve worked for, comes crashing down around you without the slightest warning. How just one mistake, just one moment of passion could destroy it all. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How could what felt so right at the time be so wrong?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She gets up, wincing at the pain in her knees and quietly proceeds to the bathroom.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Inside the bathroom it’s dark, but she’s been here a thousand times, she knows where everything is, she doesn’t need any light to make her way to the sink, if there was any light, we would see that her eyes were red and puffy, underneath they were moist…She’s been crying. We would also see that she was once beautiful, but now she’s nothing more than a mere ghost of her former self, her radiant smile has become crooked, she’s lost a few teeth, her eyes have lost their brilliant radiance, her hair frames her face in ragged clumps and one cheek is lined with a scar that runs down to her neck, she looks too old.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She reaches into the medicine cabinet and pulls out a bottle of pills and places a few into her mouth, she washes them down with some water. She shuts off the water tap and leaves the bathroom; she’s just as quite leaving as she was coming in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She tiptoes to the baby’s cradle, making sure she doesn’t wake it, she puts her hands on its lips and gives it one last kiss, singing a lullaby while she smothered it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She placed it’s body back in the crib, still singing…She went back to bed knowing she wouldn’t see another sunrise, knowing that it’s all over now, that everything is going to be alright. She went to sleep knowing that she wouldn’t be there for her 18&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;*I'm really not happy with the ending...I'll consider changing it later on...Let me know what you guys think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115591369280980865?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115591369280980865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115591369280980865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115591369280980865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115591369280980865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/08/mothers-love.html' title='A Mothers Love'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115539926066855189</id><published>2006-08-12T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T09:14:20.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Lonesome Day…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s strange what people do when there’s no one watching…When they’re alone, truly alone…Here’s an example if you don’t get what I’m saying…If someone was left alone in his house…He may get the urge to do something he doesn’t do often, such as…Taking off all of his clothes, Putting on a Cowboy hat…And pretending to be a naked Cowboy, Running around the house…Which may sound awesome…But really isn’t that nice…A bit too breezy...People really only show who they are when they’re alone…By nature…We put on a mask whenever we’re not alone…I sometimes doubt if we know who and what we really are…Just like an actor may actually believe that he’s no longer acting and that he’s now ‘living’ his role…So do we begin to ‘live’ our roles that we were cast for…Completely and blissfully unaware of what we really are…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let me ask you this…How many people seem ‘fake’ to you…That they’re not who they really are…They make stuff up…The pretend to be nice or they pretend to be complete assholes…They pretend to be troubled or they pretend to be carefree…It’s really not a wonder that somewhere along the line…We began to believe that the only way we can truly fit in is…well…by pretending to be someone we’re not…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115539926066855189?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115539926066855189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115539926066855189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115539926066855189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115539926066855189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/08/just-another-lonesome-day.html' title='Just Another Lonesome Day…'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115463211155216129</id><published>2006-08-03T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T12:08:32.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to write a love letter...</title><content type='html'>Alright constant reader...For this little post...I'm going to actually enlighten you with something most people are familiar with...But haven't got a clue to do...&lt;br /&gt;How many times have you stared at someone from across the room...She's the hottest, smartest thing you've ever seen...And you haven't got a chance in hell with her...Well...Maybe a letter from you might get her heart pumping...So I'm going to use a real letter I once wrote...But never got the chance to send because I was so shy...To show you guys how it's done...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear X,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're probably who I am, Why I've sent this letter...Well...I've got a crush on you...And I hope to show you how I feel...I've wondered how long I can see you sitting there...So far away...Smiling, laughing...Until I got the courage to walk up to you and finally be the one to make you smile...I've wondered what it would take to finally get you off my mind...I've lain awake for nights constantly...Searching inside me for the courage to face my fears and walk up to you and express about how I feel...To tell you how much I care about you...About what you mean to me...But I've realized something...The thing I loved the most about your smile...Wasn't the the perfection in it...Or the way your whole faced lights up...It's me imagining my fist crashing into it...And your beautiful soft voice screaming in pain...Of you moaning softly...Of tears streaming out of those beautiful brown eyes of yours in raging streams that reminds me of an angry river...I want to take that beautiful face of yours...And paint it black and blue with my fist...I want to tie you...Just so I could cut you...Little by little...Painfully...&lt;br /&gt;And if you should happen to gain a few pounds? Well don't worry...I'll still love you...But only after I've run you over with a steamroller...and used what's left of you as an ironing board...&lt;br /&gt;I hope you die...You and your whole family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and Respect,&lt;br /&gt;WeirdGoat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I'm usually a very nice person...But I just don't like you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well reader...We've come to the end...I hope you take this letter...And use it as an example when you're struggling to find the right words to say to that special someone...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115463211155216129?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115463211155216129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115463211155216129' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115463211155216129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115463211155216129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/08/how-to-write-love-letter.html' title='How to write a love letter...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115245254794752173</id><published>2006-07-09T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T06:42:27.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An introduction into the mind of an Emo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 1:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Diary, I’ve decided to start writing about how I feel because no one I know understands me...I think I’ll write a poem about how I feel…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel so cold…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am an empty shell…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No one understands me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My only hope is death…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Please let me die…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Death is my escape…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh Diary…You’re such a good listener…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 2:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate the world…No one loves me…If someone loved me than everything would be alright…I just hope people will one day stop picking on me…All my friends hate me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No one cares about me at all…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 3: &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Diary, I’ve recently met someone…She thought I was mature and smart…I think I’m in love…I think I have actually smiled today but it hurt because I had to use muscles I’ve never used before…From now on diary…I’ll use big words when I don’t need to because it’ll make people think I’m smart…I have also written another poem…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The sun is shining…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The birds are singing…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I did not slit my wrist today…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 4:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She was a lying whore…I hate her…I hope she dies…I even cut myself again…It turned out she stood me up…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She only said she liked me was because she wanted to see if I’d kill myself or not when she told me it was just a joke…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ll have to wear long sleeved clothes from now on…I don’t want her to get the satisfaction of looking at my scars…I think the muse has called again…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;HATE HATE HATE!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;DEATH DEATH DEATH!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hope she rots…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hope she dies…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate her…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 5:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I’ve found the reason of my problems…A book I’ve just read says that the reason I feel so lonely is because I’m better then everyone I know and that it’s conflicting with who I am…My friends are holding me back…And sexual frustration isn’t helping me either…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 6:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Diary, I’ve just molested my cat…I don’t know what came over me…She just stared at me with those eyes and mewed at me…It set off some strange primal instinct of me…I don’t think things will ever be the same with my cat…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 7:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Diary, I have seen that there is no point in living…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Marilyn Manson has told me that my only escape is death…I guess I’ll go overdose on the crate of Viagra I found…Well…While I’m waiting for the effects to take place...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Woe is me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Life is lifeless…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pain is painless…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Death is deathless…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Goodbye cruel world…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My erection is erectionless…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 8:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;……………………………………………….....................&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 9:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;………………………………………………………………&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 10:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;………………………………………………………………&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 11:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;……………………………………………………………&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 12:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m not dead…My parents always think they know what’s best for me…And they decided that dying wouldn’t be good enough for me…So they decided to rush me to the hospital…As is usual…They didn’t bother to ask me if I wanted to live or not…I mean…How can they be so insensitive?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Final Day:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The doctor is looming over my bed right now…He’s saying something about how he’s sick of us Emo’s…Never able to go the whole way…About how pissed off he is because we can’t kill ourselves properly…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’s saying something about killing me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Please God…Help me…I don’t want to die…I have so much to live for…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No…Wait a minute…What the hell am I saying?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m an Emo dammit…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I’ll write a poem while I wait for him to finish the job…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115245254794752173?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115245254794752173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115245254794752173' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115245254794752173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115245254794752173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/07/introduction-into-mind-of-emo.html' title='An introduction into the mind of an Emo...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115220635972474372</id><published>2006-07-06T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T10:19:19.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pop &amp; RnB...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have recently realized that there are no differences between boy bands such as N’Sync or The Backstreet Boys and R&amp;B such as R Kelly…The lyrics are just about the same…They sound the same too…And the only difference I could find is that R&amp;amp;B cannot be sung by white people…While one member in the band Blue proves that black people are indeed much more multi-talented than white people and can sing Pop music…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115220635972474372?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115220635972474372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115220635972474372' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115220635972474372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115220635972474372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/07/pop-rnb.html' title='Pop &amp; RnB...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115199829236126006</id><published>2006-07-04T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T00:31:49.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm hot...Seriously...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have finally found a solution for global warming…On a local scale though…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We need a massive air-conditioner…You know…Like one the size of a mountain or something…Or maybe a skyscraper…Anyways…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We first build a giant dome around the area we want to cool…Then we place the Air-conditioner within it…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tada…Instant cold…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or we can shoot giant ice cubes at the sun…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115199829236126006?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115199829236126006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115199829236126006' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115199829236126006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115199829236126006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-hotseriously.html' title='I&apos;m hot...Seriously...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115143890886765475</id><published>2006-06-27T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T13:08:36.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World Cup Fever</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I dislike the World Cup…It’s like a disease that sweeps through the populace…Making them shout out the names of countries they’ve never been to…And probably won’t be able to point out if they were given a map…Well it doesn’t end there…Their happiness is dictated by a ball…Yes that’s right…A ball will decide if you scream in joy…Or just sit there…Contemplating suicide…Why all the fuss? Seriously…Why?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean…Are people’s lives really that empty…I mean…I thought I was bored…But to wait 4 years just so you can watch people kicking a ball around for a couple hours everyday…For…I don’t know how long…Now that’s what I call boredom…Serious boredom…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Go watch grass grow or something…It’s probably more interesting….&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115143890886765475?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115143890886765475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115143890886765475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115143890886765475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115143890886765475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/06/world-cup-fever.html' title='World Cup Fever'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-115143887828001265</id><published>2006-06-27T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T13:07:58.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boredom...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Man oh man…This summer is turning out to be a drag…I mean there’s nothing at all to do…Our options involve…Going to the cinema to watch a movie with a bunch of hormone charged teens who seem to can’t stop screaming and laughing…Doesn’t matter that it’s just an advert…They still seem to find them funny…Doesn’t matter what kind of movie it is either…They still managed to make a joke out of it…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or you can go to a café…And smoke sheesha if you want…Not much fun there either…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hmm…Oh yeah…There’s MQ…But it’s just the mother lode of café’s…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;City Center and Bahja…Those places are too far away and dull…Unless you love being stared at by horny strangers…Well, if that’s your type of place…There’s no need…Just go anywhere…People love to stare at you…Regardless of who you are…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-115143887828001265?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/115143887828001265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=115143887828001265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115143887828001265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/115143887828001265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/06/boredom.html' title='Boredom...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114967161403075574</id><published>2006-06-07T02:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T02:13:34.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Disappointed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well this pretty much sucks…As you all pretty well know by now…Yesterday was 6/6/06…In other words…The number of the devil or the apocalypse or something like that…Well I decided to pop me some popcorn, get me some coke and head to the roof to view the end of creation…Unfortunately nothing happened whatsoever…If the apocalypse happened and I just missed it…Then I’m pretty disappointed in the end of creation…I mean…C’mon…Just wipe out a country or something…I’m not asking for much…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh well…to wait until the next big thing…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114967161403075574?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114967161403075574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114967161403075574' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114967161403075574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114967161403075574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/06/im-disappointed.html' title='I&apos;m Disappointed'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114959953760740862</id><published>2006-06-06T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T06:12:17.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cycle of Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jeez…You know that feeling…When you’ve messed up and you regret it…But it’s something that happened months ago and there’s nothing that you can probably do about it? Well I’ve been thinking…Does it really matter how long something’s been broken, won’t a late attempt at making things better…Won’t that be better than no attempt at all…To just sit there and say…I messed up…I hate myself for it…But I’m not going to do anything about it? Is that all that we are…Cowards?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Take a risk, you’ve got nothing to lose…Except maybe your disgust at yourself…And you’ve also got everything to gain…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Time to see if the cycle can be broken…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114959953760740862?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114959953760740862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114959953760740862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114959953760740862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114959953760740862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/06/cycle-of-truth.html' title='Cycle of Truth'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114880199825525769</id><published>2006-05-28T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T00:39:58.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely or just plain old desperate?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A while ago someone asked me to write a comment on hi5…What started off as an innocent request led to me to something much bigger…After writing the comment and all that…I decided to browse the website…To see if I couldn’t find someone with similar tastes or something like that…Damn, was I shocked…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realized people were so desperate…And I’m not just talking about the guys…I mean girls putting up their half-naked photos up for the whole world to gawk at and god knows what else…I mean…Seriously what have we come to? Do people really have nothing better to do then to go up to an online profile and begin describing how “Big” they are? Or am I just some sort of a relic from the past who fears the unknown?&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Now the comments system is moderated by the user…Nobody can place a comment without the users approval…Which brings me to my next point...Most of the comments I’ve seen are…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A)&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;You’re hot and I want to be your friend…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;B)&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;You’re sexy and I want to lick you…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;C)&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;You’re cute and I’ve got a big cock…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;D)&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;I’m 37 years old and I want to make friendship with you… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;ß&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Seriously…Wtf?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Yes there are 37 year old pedophiles who go around trying to make friendship…No I don’t want to know what the hell they mean by making friendship…Something tells me it’s not what they really mean…I just wonder why people are so thick as to not realize it…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now…Why the hell do people even allow these comments? Are they really that desperate? Or is it just me again?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you’re wondering if I’ve made any comments or sent a message to any of the members…Yes I have…If you’re wondering if I used the message to hit&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;on any chicks…No I haven’t…I mean…Out of all the profiles I’ve visited I’ve only found one person that I might like as a friend…Only one person who’s got a brain? Is that what the world is coming&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;to? &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please note that I didn’t visit any profile of people I personally know…I was disgusted enough as it is…I’d rather be in the dark then realize that the people I’ve always known are just as sad as the rest…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114880199825525769?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114880199825525769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114880199825525769' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114880199825525769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114880199825525769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/05/lonely-or-just-plain-old-desperate.html' title='Lonely or just plain old desperate?'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114796169808263643</id><published>2006-05-18T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T07:14:58.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loss</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hmm…Is it true? Are all relationships between people meant to end one way or another?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is there no such thing as an eternal friendship/relationship etc.? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I mean c’mon…Are we supposed to believe that when we die we lose touch with everyone that we’ve loved? That we won’t ever see the people we’ve lived with ever again? That even if it’s heaven we’re meant for…It’s going to be just us? All alone? With people we’ve never met before? That seriously doesn’t sound like my idea of a paradise…If all the people we’ve grown up with are destined for hell and you’re destined for heaven…or the other way around (I’m not here to judge)…Are we supposed to accept the grim reality that they’re gone…forever? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114796169808263643?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114796169808263643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114796169808263643' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114796169808263643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114796169808263643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/05/loss.html' title='Loss'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114693351344995749</id><published>2006-05-06T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T09:38:33.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>N00bish Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We the students have scored a victory over our teacher…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Apparently…Some unknown student tried to install a copy of counter-strike: condition zero on one of the school computers…He was an idiot…He didn’t know how to type the serial number or how to crack the bloody game…Well, where he failed, we succeeded…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After getting the games to run, we get to spend our morning’s fragging each other while everyone else is in the assembly…Slowly roasting in the sun…HA! Take that stupid school, we’d rather sit down and play a bit of counter-strike instead of jerking off to the heat of the sun…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All in all, if you’re wondering whose to blame for all of this…It’s the school itself…They gave all those who are working on the school yearbook special access to the computer lab…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh yeah, we made more than one copy of the game on each pc that we copied the files to, you should’ve seen the teacher trying to delete the game while the pc was set on a student account…Must’ve taken about 5 minutes for her to realize her mistake…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Edit: Game’s have been removed…But I’ve managed to get messenger to work again…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114693351344995749?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114693351344995749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114693351344995749' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114693351344995749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114693351344995749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/05/n00bish-teacher.html' title='N00bish Teacher'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114693341857538751</id><published>2006-05-06T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T09:36:58.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomniac</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hmm…Dammit, I’ve been waking up at around 1:30 am this past week, I always seem to have a headache…And I’m a bit on edge too…And people are asking me what’s wrong...You try getting less then 3 hours of sleep everyday and you come and ask me if you still feel good…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyways…I’ve decided to take things into my hand…by getting an alarm and setting it wake me up at around 1 am…Take that sandman…I won’t let you wake me up when I want to go to sleep…I’ll wake myself up…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I might be going crazy…Then again I might’ve been born like this…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114693341857538751?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114693341857538751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114693341857538751' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114693341857538751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114693341857538751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/05/insomniac.html' title='Insomniac'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114581913395449022</id><published>2006-04-23T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T09:22:43.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate T.V.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate shows that make no sense…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For example…Ed…It’s a show about a lawyer who moved to a small town and opened&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;a bowling alley/practice…Why the hell would someone do that? I don’t know…I haven’t seen the show from the start and I won’t bother watching the first episodes…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;But really strikes me as absurd is the relationship between Ed and the teacher (I don’t know her name…She’s the blond one…) Well they both know that they like each other…But does that stop the love struck girl from sleeping with just about every guy in the town? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Answer: No…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Example…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Teacher: I hate the principle; I hate him…Blah blah blah…&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Next Day:&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: I screwed the principle; I made love to him…Blah blah blah… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I’m not sure if it’s just me or something…But does something here not make any sense? Or do I just not understand T.V.?&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The only show on T.V. that makes any sense is Gilmore Girls…&lt;br /&gt;Now go watch it…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusion over what’s worth watching on T.V.: 2/10&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114581913395449022?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114581913395449022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114581913395449022' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114581913395449022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114581913395449022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-hate-tv_23.html' title='I hate T.V.'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114577841204670246</id><published>2006-04-23T00:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T00:46:52.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbows and Unicorns</title><content type='html'>Hmm…I have an idea…&lt;br /&gt;And I need help…&lt;br /&gt;Well since the posts in this blog are not what someone might call…I don’t know…Say…Happy posts? I’ve decided to change the template…And that’s where I need someone’s help…I’m looking for a nice bright template…With Rainbows and Unicorns…If anyone can help me with this…I would greatly appreciate it…&lt;br /&gt;If you were wondering…I’m too lazy to make my own template or even look for one…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tendency to make love to a unicorn 9/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114577841204670246?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114577841204670246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114577841204670246' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114577841204670246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114577841204670246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/04/rainbows-and-unicorns.html' title='Rainbows and Unicorns'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114577800118752020</id><published>2006-04-23T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T00:40:01.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored...Seriously...</title><content type='html'>Whoa…&lt;br /&gt;I’m bored…That’s the whole point of this post…&lt;br /&gt;To let everyone reading this know that I’m bored…&lt;br /&gt;I find it very interesting…&lt;br /&gt;I’m sitting here on my teacher’s pc…She thinks I’m working or something for the year book…She doesn’t know how wrong she is…I laugh at her…&lt;br /&gt;She’s talking to Ti3gib…I don’t know…But I think I’m missing something important…Oh well…Doesn’t really matter…&lt;br /&gt;Hmm…She’s saying something about people not working hard enough…I think she means me…&lt;br /&gt;I never knew just how hard it was to find a pair of headphones in this school…Is it really so bad if I listen to a bit of music?&lt;br /&gt;Oh well…I think I’ll just stop writing at this point or something…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suicidal Tendency: 5/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114577800118752020?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114577800118752020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114577800118752020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114577800118752020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114577800118752020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/04/boredseriously.html' title='Bored...Seriously...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26741854.post-114576498662443327</id><published>2006-04-22T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T21:03:06.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post...</title><content type='html'>Well…This is different…&lt;br /&gt;There’s no Ti3gib to give this little blog any life when I’m not posting…And I’m guessing it’s going to be very personal…Very little information on anything else…&lt;br /&gt;Details…Details…&lt;br /&gt;Alright…There’s a profile page…Hmmm…Now what should I do about that? …I’m not sure if I should right out lie…Or if I should actually tell the truth…Or maybe just leave it empty?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm…About the way I write… I use the three dots (…) a lot…I mean I replace all punctuation with the three dots…It’s just how I write…I really can’t be bothered to write any other way…&lt;br /&gt;Well…That’s about it for the first post…&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah…About the title…Dark Enterprise…Well…I usually use the name Richard E. Dark as an alias…E. stands for Entragian ßCrazed cop who goes on a killing spree in Desperation by Stephen King…It’s a great book…&lt;br /&gt;Ran out of things to say…Now to figure out how the hell I post in this thing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suicidal Tendency: 7/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26741854-114576498662443327?l=weirdgoat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/feeds/114576498662443327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26741854&amp;postID=114576498662443327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114576498662443327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26741854/posts/default/114576498662443327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weirdgoat.blogspot.com/2006/04/first-post.html' title='First Post...'/><author><name>weirdgoat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10357104427627374110</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yW8E4e3LuJk/TRIboexHujI/AAAAAAAAAF4/NynX8JfJ11c/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
