<?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-3819572</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:21:23.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>YourGirlfriend is the Complete and Total Package</title><subtitle type='html'>YourGirlfriend's blog</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>285</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112419314608057849</id><published>2005-08-16T06:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T13:43:18.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>From now on, I think I'm not writing in this anymore.  To read about me, go to my LiveJournal.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112419314608057849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112419314608057849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/08/from-now-on-i-think-im-not-writing-in.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112366824246420336</id><published>2005-08-10T05:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T05:04:02.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My friend paid for a paid account at LiveJournal for me.So long, suckers!Check it out!My "Tom Goes to the Mayor" layout there is infinitely better than this one.  Infinitely better.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112366824246420336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112366824246420336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-friend-paid-for-paid-account-at.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112339477359018144</id><published>2005-08-07T00:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-07T01:07:33.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Music is good.I wish lipgloss stayed on longer.The [adult swim] message boards suck...I want this hairstyle (ignore that damn woman):Same length, same long-angled bangs.I love my job.The Mylo remix of The Killer's "Somebody Told Me" is incredibly good.That's all I have.  I post daily on my MySpace blog.  It's pretty much become  my new home.  LJ is to keep up with friends not on MySpace.  Why is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112339477359018144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112339477359018144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/08/music-is-good.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112289185935928801</id><published>2005-08-01T05:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T05:24:19.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm so damn clever sometimes:HIM:  "LIVING is making it. Period. No matter where you are. You have that right. I believe that. I want to know the story of your spy-movie/eye-patch - I wanna see that movie! What are you hiding Valorie? Interpol wants to know... "ME:  "Well, I'm afraid the story isn't all that glamorous. My friends and I are a bunch of Quentin Tarantino nerds and I dressed as Elle </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112289185935928801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112289185935928801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/08/im-so-damn-clever-sometimes-him-living.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112201105555888431</id><published>2005-07-22T00:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T00:46:40.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tonight, we went to Dancin' in the District to see Tegan and Sara and Cake.After the show, we went to Hermitage Cafe to eat.After we ate, we were driving home.  Shane all of the sudden said, "oh shit" and pulled over.  There were two police cars involved in a high-speed police chase with a red jeep.It was awesome!I should move to Los Angeles, because I'd be excited all of the time.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112201105555888431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112201105555888431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/07/tonight-we-went-to-dancin-in-district.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112174718370984347</id><published>2005-07-18T23:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T23:26:39.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't care how nice you are to me, you still can't have Eric Wareheim's AIM.  Not because I don't want to give it to you, but because he doesn't want me to give it to you.Nothing personal, though.  He's a busy guy.I've decided I'm going to Comic-con next year, even if I have to go alone.  I'll even brave a plane ride.  I'm starting to save my money...NOW!  It'll be so kickass.It better be as </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112174718370984347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112174718370984347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-dont-care-how-nice-you-are-to-me-you.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112115695190633577</id><published>2005-07-12T03:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T03:30:28.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>July 12th and only the second post for July.Funny:"our site is so ghetto""That sentence just made me laugh""u crack yourself up""You're the one that wrote the sentence...""And yes, I do crack myself up"Well, I fucking thought it was funny!Want a review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?Here ya go:Generally, it was good.  I was a little afraid of what Johnny Depp would do with Willy Wonka, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112115695190633577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112115695190633577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-12th-and-only-second-post-for.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112067754539252974</id><published>2005-07-06T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T14:27:06.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am saddened but not very surprised.A friend of mine in the business (I'm going to leave him nameless, but I'll go ahead and say it's not Doug or Eric) left me a message on MySpace.  This is part of it:"By the way, if you're worried Odenkirk might be jerky, I hope you don't have high expectations for a warm interaction with the Stella guys whom you profess to love. Um... Really."The added "</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112067754539252974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112067754539252974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-am-saddened-but-not-very-surprised.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-112009635466231294</id><published>2005-06-29T20:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T20:53:20.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>June is almost over and this is only the eighth blog entry I've made here for the month.  That's because, I don't know if you can comprehend this, MySpace is much better than your puny Blogger.I don't really mean that, that was just my Ignignokt impression.  Anyway, what has happened with me lately?  So glad you asked.  I started training to become manager Saturday and completed my training </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112009635466231294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/112009635466231294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-is-almost-over-and-this-is-only.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111933594019807672</id><published>2005-06-21T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T01:58:08.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My internet life has become mostly these few things:1)  Fielding "OMGZ!  CaN yOu GiVe Me ErIc WaReHeIm AnD tIm HeIdEcKeR's ScReEn NaMeS, eMaIl AdDyS aNd PhOnE nUmBeRs?" instant messages.Answer:  No.  Eric gets about 40 or 50 "OMG I LOVE YOU" messages a day (I don't know about Tim).  Their email addresses aren't hard to find.  I don't have their phone numbers.  If I did, I would not give them out.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111933594019807672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111933594019807672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-internet-life-has-become-mostly.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111895313290967371</id><published>2005-06-16T15:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T15:18:52.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I know.  I've been neglectful.  I've been writing in my MySpace blog every day, though.  If you are going through Valorie withdrawls, you can read that here.  I haven't really said much, though.  It's mostly "[Insert celebrity name here] is so hot!!!"My hormones have been running wild lately.  Mostly for Michael Ian Black.  But yeqh, if you want to read about a 22-year-old's crushes of the minute</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111895313290967371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111895313290967371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-know.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111836095593309357</id><published>2005-06-09T18:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T18:49:38.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am a fucking NERD!Why?  Because this is my new favorite website.I want Michael Ian Black all up in my face sniffing for Sierra Mist.I wanna pat Michael Ian Black down.I wanna dance in middle of a convenience store with Michael Ian Black and Fred Willard.I wanna thumb wrestle Michael Ian Black.He's so wonderous.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111836095593309357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111836095593309357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-am-fucking-nerd-why-because-this-is.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111829132086590791</id><published>2005-06-08T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T23:30:15.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Since Adult Swim has been running bumps saying to get your Pipe Camp t-shirts because they're running out, I've gotten a lot of Google hits from people looking for these shirts.  So, go to timanderic.com.  If you want to know if they're worth it, I assure you, they are.  They're nice and comfy.  They run a little large, my medium swallows me.I suggest you buy one if you want one, because Eric </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111829132086590791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111829132086590791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/since-adult-swim-has-been-running.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111783437389129705</id><published>2005-06-03T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T16:34:04.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Another fan mail:"You are exactly RIGHT!  I've been reading the Scene for 15 years, and she's always been that way.  I do value her restaurant critiques.  But whenever I turn to her column to get the scoop on some new restaurant, and she begins with something like, 'In 1989, while on a hiking trip through the Ozark Mountains...' I just think, 'God, why does she always have to be so wordy??  Just </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111783437389129705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111783437389129705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/another-fan-mail-you-are-exactly-right.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111765846698005984</id><published>2005-06-01T15:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T16:27:21.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Michael Ian Black is a Very Famous Celebrity. His words, not mine. He's also a very funny celebrity. And very cute. And...a lot of things. Yay, Michael Ian Black!  Click on that link for the funny.Speaking of Michael Ian Black, the "Stella" (the comedy troup with him, Michael Showalter and David Wain) television series is going to be on Comedy Central starting later this month!  I'm excited.Doug </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111765846698005984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111765846698005984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/06/michael-ian-black-is-very-famous.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111755167602917077</id><published>2005-05-31T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T10:02:35.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Last night, I was going to make an entry when I got home to remind myself of how I was feeling so that I wouldn't do what I did last night again.But I feel like shit right now, and it's a pretty good reminder.  And I don't think I could forget.  And I don't think I could forget my behavior after doing what I did.So, I'm not going to specify what I did, because it was fucked up and frankly, I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111755167602917077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111755167602917077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/last-night-i-was-going-to-make-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111743843472855583</id><published>2005-05-30T02:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T02:35:47.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I wore my Pipe Camp shirt to work today.  A lot of people liked it, even if they didn't get it.  I explained it to everyone who asked (except I answered "this camp I went to when I was five" once to some guy).  This one woman particularly liked it...until I explained the episode to her.  She narrows her eyes and says, "I'm wearing a nicotine patch."Um...okay?I didn't say anything offensive </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111743843472855583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111743843472855583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-wore-my-pipe-camp-shirt-to-work.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111729313358576068</id><published>2005-05-28T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-28T10:14:17.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm going to see Star Wars with one of my heroes and inspiration next weekend, I'm going to see Star Wars with one of my heroes and inspiration next weekend!  Gecko Matt and/or Brandon and/or Gabrielle will attend as well.  And not only that, I get to see his comedy as well...live with Brandon and/or Gabrielle!  And I'm going to try to get him to go to PM after the show on Friday for Shane's DJ </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111729313358576068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111729313358576068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-going-to-see-star-wars-with-one-of.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111721060341794032</id><published>2005-05-27T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T11:45:33.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I think I want some new glasses.  With really cool frames.  It's not that I don't like the frames I have, but I want more frames.  You know, something to choose from.Red frames would be kinda cool.Or frames that have like a little diamond in the corner.  Frames that are almost cateyes.You have to go some speciality store for such frames.I was listening to "Helicopter" by Bloc Party just now.  The</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111721060341794032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111721060341794032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-think-i-want-some-new-glasses.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111699985923805317</id><published>2005-05-25T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T00:54:27.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Brandon Valentine and I are going to see Doug Benson (and some other "Best Week Ever" people) next week. My new friend Gabrielle may be going as well.I half-jokingly messaged Doug Benson on Friendster and said that after the show we're going to, we should all get together, smoke and see Star Wars. He said:"yes, smoking up and seeing a movie would be lovely. not sure if i can sit through STAR WARS</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111699985923805317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111699985923805317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/brandon-valentine-and-i-are-going-to.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111692275726367556</id><published>2005-05-24T03:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T03:53:54.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Parts of an old entry I just read:"11/17/2004I had a dream that David Cross and Bob Odenkirk got a new skit comedy show and they were filming an episode in my grandmother's backyard. So, I go up to them and ask if I can be in their episode. So, they said okay. We did a skit where Bob Odenkirk and I were getting married and we got to make out...Speaking of Bob Odenkirk, that new show 'Tom Goes to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111692275726367556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111692275726367556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/parts-of-old-entry-i-just-read.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111689816390710629</id><published>2005-05-23T20:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T21:14:39.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As I said, new "Tom Goes to the Mayor" layout.  The colors are ugly as sin, but there's nothing pretty on "Tom Goes to the Mayor".  So yeah.I spent a lot of time today napping at work.  When I was awake, I was pretty busy.  So the day went fast.  New marketing director soon.  I keep telling my boss to hire a hot guy, but he says there are enough guys (oh, I beg to differ) and something silly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111689816390710629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111689816390710629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/as-i-said-new-tom-goes-to-mayor-layout.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111683152203253851</id><published>2005-05-23T01:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T02:05:51.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been thinking this over for quite a while, and I think I want to be a comedian.  I decided to talk to Eric (Wareheim in case you haven't been reading) about it. (Not corrected for spelling or grammar.)YourGrlfriend: I told my boyfriend today I want to be a comedianEric: whoaEric: u do?YourGrlfriend: YeahEric: niceYourGrlfriend: Then he asked if I still wanted to make movies and I said yes, I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111683152203253851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111683152203253851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/ive-been-thinking-this-over-for-quite.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111673807729484715</id><published>2005-05-21T23:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T20:30:52.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Anonymous (who the fuck are you?) wrote this in the comments:"Further 'proof' Valorie is becoming a Star Wars nerd...she has yet to comment on the Quentin Tarantino written and directed season finale of CSI. Anytime now, she'll try out 'cinnamon bun' hair..."Well, I didn't comment on the finale of CSI because I didn't watch it.  Never planned to.  So shut up.I didn't even watch that damn Muppet </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111673807729484715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111673807729484715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/anonymous-who-fuck-are-you-wrote-this.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111671047149601717</id><published>2005-05-21T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-21T16:22:21.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh Bob.  I still love you so much.  But you're starting to look a little old.Oh my poor, poor, Bob!  I'm not shallow, though.  I'll still marry you!  You're the coolest and funniest!  I'll take you over Conan, Eric, Tim, Dave Foley (who has been letting himself go), David Cross, Christian Finnegan and Michael Ian Black any day!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111671047149601717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111671047149601717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/oh-bob.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111665034325205372</id><published>2005-05-20T23:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-21T02:17:37.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just watched an hour long Star Wars special on VH1.I still am not a Star Wars nerd.I got excited when Shane bought the "Darth Mix" M&amp;Ms.I still am not a Star Wars nerd.The "Brendon, I am your father/uncle" Burger King is my favorite commercial right now.I still am not a Star Wars nerd.So there!Someone Googled "Eric Wareheim height" and found me.  In case you come back...6'7".I am a Wareheim </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111665034325205372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111665034325205372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-just-watched-hour-long-star-wars.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111649240789168137</id><published>2005-05-19T03:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T04:04:50.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today at work, I read the newspaper as always.  The entire Living section, save for the television listings, comics, crossword, and advice columns, was entirely about Darth Vader.  That's pretty cool.I looked at the movie show times and found that there were many midnight showings of Episode III and came to a realization...I wanted to go.  I wanted to see the nerds dressed up.  I wasn't sure if </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111649240789168137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111649240789168137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/today-at-work-i-read-newspaper-as.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111637983910508741</id><published>2005-05-17T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T21:23:55.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Someone Googled "Tom Goes to the Fucking Mayor" and came here.  That's right.  "Tom Goes to the Mayor" is FUCKING awesome and everyone should watch it!  I Googled it as well and I mostly found "Tom Goes to the Mayor" is an awful fucking show type stuff.  A lot of people say, "it's not as funny as 'Sealab 2021'".  I want to hurt every dumb fuck that makes this statement.Someone also Googled "who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111637983910508741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111637983910508741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/someone-googled-tom-goes-to-fucking.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111629147519638906</id><published>2005-05-16T19:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T19:57:55.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I went to the bank today to deposit a paycheck into my hungry, hungry account.  The guy ahead of me goes to the bank teller and the bank teller says, "how are you today?""Well, I have a sinus infection, a week ago I had a cold, two weeks ago I had pneumonia, three weeks ago..." etc, etc, etc.I just listened and listened.  Then the guy says, "I think I'm allergic to Nashville".I was afraid he'd </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111629147519638906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111629147519638906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-went-to-bank-today-to-deposit.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111614260760764481</id><published>2005-05-15T02:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T02:36:47.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As much as I like Hal Sparks, his band looks so damn lame.  I'm basing this on looks, now:There are more pictures, but they're too depressing.  If you must see, find him on MySpace.  Seems like it's actually him. No, I didn't add him.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111614260760764481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111614260760764481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/as-much-as-i-like-hal-sparks-his-band.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111595685936623803</id><published>2005-05-12T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T11:19:27.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I'm sure you're all wondering if I did, in fact, faint dead away.  Well, I didn't faint dead away, but Eric did join my Tim and Eric group.  And he's the one I have a crush on, too (oh yes, he knows.)  I wish Tim would join. I finally had someone I don't even know join.This week went by fast, yet slow.  It's odd.  I watched The Phantom Menace this week.  Anakin Skywalker as a child...annoying</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111595685936623803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111595685936623803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/so-im-sure-youre-all-wondering-if-i.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111570401751225484</id><published>2005-05-10T00:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T23:41:03.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I am just so freaking cool.Why?  Because Tim and Eric email me weekly.  Not weekly email updates (well, they do email me weekly updates) but they email me after I email them weekly.  I usually email them a sentence or two and they email me back a sentence or two.  The first was "Thank you, your girlfriend" from Tim.  This was after a paragraph about how much I love "Tom Goes to the Mayor".  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111570401751225484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111570401751225484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/so-i-am-just-so-freaking-cool.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111540906125409071</id><published>2005-05-06T14:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T14:57:00.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>First, I start out with a quote from one of my new websites:"Any villain with his/her own theme song scores extra points in my book. You know, Vader's got the Imperial March. I mean... that's bad ass."So, I am working on a project inspired by Darth Vader.  Well, Darth Vader and all kind of other movie villains.  I am putting together a collection of villain theme music (because, let's face it, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111540906125409071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111540906125409071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/first-i-start-out-with-quote-from-one.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111531886371776679</id><published>2005-05-05T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T13:47:43.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, what are you guys doing for Cinco De Mayo?  Shane and I have plans.  This is what we're doing (from an Evite from Bryan Dihigo:)"From:  Bryan Dihigo Location:  Coco Loco4600 Nolensville Rd.,Nashville,TN View Map  When:  Thursday, May 5, 5:30pm  Cin·co de Ma·yo (noun) - [Spanish : cinco = five + de = of + Mayo = May.] May 5th, observed by Mexican communities in Latin America and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111531886371776679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111531886371776679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/so-what-are-you-guys-doing-for-cinco.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111527225682014090</id><published>2005-05-05T00:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T00:50:56.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You know what?  I'm really cool.Proof.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111527225682014090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111527225682014090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/you-know-what-im-really-cool.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111526568459628966</id><published>2005-05-04T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T23:02:09.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've never seen the Star Wars movies.  None of them.  I've always said I was not going to remedy this.  I just did not care.  But I really like Darth Vader.  I saw most of the first one (or, sorry, Episode IV) in eighth grade and thought Darth Vader was just so cool.  Why is it most movies in villains in movies have the coolest stuff and the coolest costumes?  (This is not true with Batman, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111526568459628966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111526568459628966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/05/ive-never-seen-star-wars-movies.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111490797448856864</id><published>2005-04-30T19:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T19:39:34.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My aunt got married today. I was bridesmaid and Shane DJ'd.You know what I got a lot?"When are you getting married?"  "Engaged yet?"  "Oh, is he your fiance?"  "Will we be having a wedding for you soon?"My reply:  "No." "No."  "No."  "Give it a few more years and then ask me."  "Okay, stop with those questions."  "Can you go ask that other unmarried girl over there these same questions please and</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111490797448856864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111490797448856864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/my-aunt-got-married-today.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111485116267841424</id><published>2005-04-30T03:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T03:52:42.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If you want to know what I thought of The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Kung Fu Hustle, Sympathy for Mr. Vengance, Sin City, Fever Pitch and Jersey Girl, then you should go to my Rotten Tomatoes journal.  I wrote all of these just tonight.  Now I have to go to bed so I can be at least a little aware when I am my aunt's bridesmaid at her wedding tomorrow.Oh yeah, good work news, but I'm not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111485116267841424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111485116267841424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/if-you-want-to-know-what-i-thought-of.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111428114650005495</id><published>2005-04-23T13:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T13:32:26.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What?  That's kinda random, isn't it?  Who cares?  I don't.  Why?  Because I can't stand Rivers Cuomo!  Ick.Now I'm going to talk about something infinitely more important.  Have you heard that there are some fucktards that want to make hunting feral cats legal in Wisconscin?  Luckily, it doesn't look like this will happen, but what the fuck?  Here's the story, which I will break into everyone </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111428114650005495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111428114650005495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/what-thats-kinda-random-isnt-it-who.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111385109381833029</id><published>2005-04-18T13:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T14:23:50.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So the Quentin Tarantino party was awesome.  I went as Elle Driver and Shane went as Buck:We did a costume change and I changed into a different version of Elle Driver and Shane was Clarence from True Romance (we didn't get a picture of him as Clarence):Unfortunately, I was not the only Elle (there were also two other Clarences):Anyway, the party was awesome.  I got to meet cool people, quote </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111385109381833029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111385109381833029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/so-quentin-tarantino-party-was-awesome.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111366926673730212</id><published>2005-04-16T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-16T11:34:26.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Awww, they love each other.  This is so cute.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111366926673730212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111366926673730212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/awww-they-love-each-other.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111345467080174174</id><published>2005-04-13T23:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T23:57:50.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I feel like I've been neglecting this thing.  And not only that, but writing in my LJ more than here.  I've actually had thoughts of discontinuing this blog and just keeping my LJ, but I can do so much more design-wise with this than my LJ, unless I want to pay a yearly fee at LJ.Holy crap, this is going to be an awesome episode of Conan!  Jimmy Fallon and Lewis Black.  Wonderous. Speaking of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111345467080174174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111345467080174174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-feel-like-ive-been-neglecting-this.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111316165166811602</id><published>2005-04-10T14:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T14:34:11.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hm.  Hm.  Someone called me an "artsy indie chica".  Hmmmm...interesting.  I'm not sure how accurate this is.  Well, I am a chica that works at an indie art house...Interesting.  I just thought the image I was projecting was "loud-Quentin-Tarantino-obsessed-freak-who-is-maybe-a-tad-bit-overly-opinionated-about-movies-and-music-Japanese-culture-loving-thinks-she's-going-to-make-movies" and so on, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111316165166811602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111316165166811602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/hm.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111299988397800627</id><published>2005-04-08T17:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T17:44:47.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, anyone who knows me knows that I kinda like Quentin Tarantino, his movies and the music he puts in his movies.  I'm not a fanatic, but I respect Quentin...okay, practically worship.  I want to be like him.  I want to work for him one day until I turn into a great director and then I will crush him (some kid said that about Steven Spielberg on some show because Spielberg was his idol.)Anway, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111299988397800627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111299988397800627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/so-anyone-who-knows-me-knows-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111298839768106204</id><published>2005-04-08T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T14:37:00.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm going to get plastic surgery.  Yeah, I'm going to have my boobs enlarged, have the fat sucked out of my butt, get these itty bitty love handles sucked out, get the fat from my thighs sucked out, get my lips enlarged, get my cheeks lifted, cut off some of my nose, have my eyeballs taken out and getting a different color, getting new feet, new hands...I'll be a completely different person.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111298839768106204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111298839768106204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-going-to-get-plastic-surgery.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111254899227938789</id><published>2005-04-03T12:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T13:30:11.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Okay, just got back from Florida last night.  We arrived at our house at about seven thirty.Florida was okay.  It wasn't much warmer that it was here, but it was nice when the weather cooperated.  Unfortunately, there was a thunderstorm that started right when we hit the Florida border that lasted all night.  A couple hours after we arrived, Shane, his mother and I went to a restaurant called </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111254899227938789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111254899227938789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/04/okay-just-got-back-from-florida-last.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111181630976627557</id><published>2005-03-25T23:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T23:51:49.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yay!  We're leaving for Florida tomorrow morning!  We return April 2nd.  Try not to miss me too much.I got a new swimsuit today.  All pretty and pink with two different bottoms for two different looks.  And the top makes my boobs look really good.  I'm excited!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111181630976627557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111181630976627557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/yay-were-leaving-for-florida-tomorrow.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111154674734386720</id><published>2005-03-22T20:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T20:59:07.346-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My mom called me yesterday.  I told her we were leaving for Florida this Saturday and she goes, "oh really?  That's the weekend we were hoping to come up!"  You can't just decide to come up, I work weekends!  You know this!  Dammit!My aunt is getting married on April 30th.  I am going to be the bridesmaid and my mom is Matron of Honor.  We're supposed to go shopping soon for dresses.  Luckily, my</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111154674734386720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111154674734386720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-mom-called-me-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111120576098827043</id><published>2005-03-18T21:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T22:16:00.993-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I should call my mom soon.  I don't know why, though.  There's no point.  All our conversations consist of are uncomfortable silences and then the phone gets handed to my little brother.  Which is fine, I like talking to him (until he asks to talk to Shane).I should really call my grandma too.  When she had the aneurysm and we thought she was going to die I was pissed at myself for never calling </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111120576098827043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111120576098827043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-should-call-my-mom-soon.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111117676388737461</id><published>2005-03-18T14:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T14:15:18.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I got my hair cut yesterday.  Here are pictures (I look terrible in them):Before:And after:I really love my haircut.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111117676388737461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111117676388737461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-got-my-hair-cut-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111102070024182036</id><published>2005-03-16T18:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T18:54:45.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>See, boyfriend, I do listen to you (when it comes to wine).  And I did pretty well about the beer, too.BourbonCongratulations! You're 123 proof, with specific scores in beer (40) , wine (150), and liquor (60). Screw all that namby-pamby chick stuff, you're going straight for the bottle and a shot glass! It'll take more than a few shots of Wild Turkey or 99 Bananas before you start seeing pink </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111102070024182036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111102070024182036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/see-boyfriend-i-do-listen-to-you-when.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111060610419675206</id><published>2005-03-11T23:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T23:41:44.196-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I got really bored and made a quiz about myself, so take it and make me feel important.  Some of the questions are really fucking easy.  So easy, in fact, that if you've read even two of my entries or met me for two seconds, you'll get them right.  Some are kinda hard.Take it here.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111060610419675206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111060610419675206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-got-really-bored-and-made-quiz-about.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111050924666461044</id><published>2005-03-10T20:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T20:57:52.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I really wanna see that movie Navajo Joe. I don't know anything about it except it looks like it's a spagehetti westerns, Burt Reynolds is in it and Ennio Morricone did the score. I want to see it because of the latter. But also because I wanna see more spagehtti westerns, because Once Upon a Time in the West is a badass movie. But it only has 5.0 stars out of 10 on IMDB. Not that that deters me.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111050924666461044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111050924666461044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-really-wanna-see-that-movie-navajo.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-111042680162532164</id><published>2005-03-09T21:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T23:17:44.726-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today was a day, to say the least.I went to lunch at this place, Taste O' Tokyo and got a teriyaki chicken bento box. I ate while some old guy sat at the table next to me tried to make conversation (I finally talked to him). So, near the end of my meal, they bring me my check and I give them my debit card. My waitress brings it back and says it was declined. I was surprised because I knew I had </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111042680162532164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/111042680162532164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/today-was-day-to-say-least.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110982726429255399</id><published>2005-03-02T23:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T23:26:14.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Monkey Ninjas!  Monkey Ninjas!  Monkey Ninjas!I remember I saw a Monkey Ninjas cartoon at Chuck E. Cheese's a couple of years ago and I was excited!  I mean, why not?  They're monkeys...that are ninjas!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110982726429255399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110982726429255399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/monkey-ninjas-monkey-ninjas-monkey.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110981973690724161</id><published>2005-03-02T20:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T21:19:41.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Soon, I will own the Gumnaam on DVD.  That's the movie that had the song that Enid was dancing around to in Ghost World.  "Jaan Pehechaan Ho" is the song.  It's a Bollywood horror(yes, horror!) movie from the sixties.  This girl from the Ghost World LiveJournal community is selling her copy and I am buying it for eight dollars (that includes shipping)."America's Next Top Model" was supposed to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110981973690724161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110981973690724161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/soon-i-will-own-gumnaam-on-dvd.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110973408726204291</id><published>2005-03-01T21:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T21:37:13.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm so drunk in this picture that I don't realize my glass is empty.I look drunk in this one..and obviously this picture was taken before the other one because I still have some chardonnay in there (that be my boss behind me and right above my glass):I love these crazy co-workers of mine:I forgot to mention in my last post that I won something in the silent auction.  I won some hairstyling at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110973408726204291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110973408726204291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-so-drunk-in-this-picture-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110971695243586117</id><published>2005-03-01T16:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T16:42:32.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Half the people that I work with are friends on my MySpace profile now, so I can't talk shit about them anymore on my MySpace blog (I never did).The Oscar Party was okay.  Last year was much better, though.  But the end was awesome.  We were all so drunk out of our minds (there will be pictures soon that Elise is sending me via email) that we thought everything was hilarious.  Joshy, Maya, Toby </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110971695243586117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110971695243586117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/03/half-people-that-i-work-with-are.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110946655435357855</id><published>2005-02-26T18:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T19:09:14.356-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I'm all bloated today and I have to wear this pink number tomorrow.Yeah, hope I'm not bloated tomorrow.  We have the Oscar Party tomorrow and I am really looking forward to it.  PDS isn't going to be my date because he didn't do any volunteer work.  If employees want to have dates, they have to either pay or do six hours volunteer work.  PDS didn't have the time, but said next year.  I'll </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110946655435357855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110946655435357855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-im-all-bloated-today-and-i-have-to.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110887976461351060</id><published>2005-02-19T23:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:09:24.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why is it since I turned on "Saturday Night Live", Hilary Swank has played the most annoying characters? Are they trying to tell her something?Something I observed at the kids event at work (well, I've observed this before...actually, I might've even mentioned it in either this blog or one of my old diaries): children wish they were older and adults wish they were younger. Is anyone ever happy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110887976461351060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110887976461351060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/why-is-it-since-i-turned-on-saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110870710094941613</id><published>2005-02-17T23:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T00:40:52.566-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's been about a week, but I've been busy working.  When I wasn't working, I was resting, seeing movies or celebrating Valentine's Day.The Rocky Horror Picture Show Saturday only had about thirty-five attendees, which was fine with me.  It wasn't lucrative for me tip-wise, but I was okay with that.  Anyway, us employees had fun and bonded.  Some kid left a McDonald's Happy Meal My Little Pony (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110870710094941613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110870710094941613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/its-been-about-week-but-ive-been-busy.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110800655214920529</id><published>2005-02-09T21:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T21:35:52.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I don't have to look for a second job, like I was putting off and dreading doing.  Why?  Because I'll be working at the theatre during the week.The GM called me yesterday and asked me what days I was available to do office work.  I told him Monday through Thursday and he asked me if I'd come in this morning and Thursday, so I did (I don't know what happened to the girl they had doing it).  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110800655214920529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110800655214920529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-i-dont-have-to-look-for-second-job.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110785385052958533</id><published>2005-02-08T02:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-08T03:10:50.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am feeling much better.  I've only taken two doses of medicine today and my nose isn't running or stuffed up all of the time.  After I write this entry, I'm going to see if I can't sleep through the night without needing medicine.The Super Bowl Halftime show was terrible...what I saw of it, anyway.We didn't get a lot of tips, it wasn't as busy as I thought it'd be.  Apparently, people like </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110785385052958533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110785385052958533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-am-feeling-much-better.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110770332742453835</id><published>2005-02-06T08:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T09:31:27.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's almost nine am and I'm awake!  I woke up about an hour ago to take some medicine and never went back to sleep.  So this is what daytime looks like, huh?  You can see everything.  Kinda scary.I am sooo sick.  I have swollen lymph nodes or whatever they're called.  Friday night I thought I had the flu because all of my muscles were hurting, but I wasn't so bad yesterday...but I was not up </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110770332742453835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110770332742453835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/its-almost-nine-am-and-im-awake-i-woke.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110758521019252548</id><published>2005-02-05T01:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T00:39:56.396-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been meaning to listen to that new Gwen Stefani CD because I read in a review that she collaborates with New Order.  But I never got around to it.  Today, I had it on MTV or VH1 or something and Gwen Stefani was in some commercial talking about a contest where the winner gets $25,000 dollars cash (always useful), an appearance in Gwen's new music video "Harajuku Girls" (hadn't heard the song</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110758521019252548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110758521019252548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/ive-been-meaning-to-listen-to-that-new.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110757796397922212</id><published>2005-02-04T22:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-04T22:38:04.473-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I didn't go to PDS's DJ gig because I am sick.  I have to take sinus pills and my nose alternately stops up or runs like a faucet.  And I feel so weak.  Everytime I do anything, I feel drained.Oh, me. So, that guy that disagreed with (and insulted) me about Sideways has Queen of the Damned as his top ten movies.  So, there you go.When I told PDS about how he said I probably hated Sideways </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110757796397922212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110757796397922212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-didnt-go-to-pdss-dj-gig-because-i-am.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110751001752346989</id><published>2005-02-04T03:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-04T04:17:51.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was just browsing around blogs.  I saw this one blog where the author was born in 1993.  At first, I thought, "no one born in 1993 is old enough to have a blog!"  Then I did the math.  Oh my goodness, kids born in '93 are now twelve!  Twelve!  I was in forth/fifth grade in '93!  I was in those grade twelve years ago.Like I said a few entries back (or in my LiveJournal, I don't remember where)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110751001752346989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110751001752346989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-was-just-browsing-around-blogs.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110738887905428339</id><published>2005-02-02T17:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T18:02:32.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I think that in just a couple of weeks, Chuck has posted more comments to my blog than anyone has ever.I had a fucked-up dream last night.  I dreamt an episode of "Full House".  It wasn't an actual episode, I just know it had all of the bullshit that's usually in a "Full House" episode:  little talks with sappy music, the girls getting in trouble for doing something and then getting off way too</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110738887905428339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110738887905428339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-think-that-in-just-couple-of-weeks.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110724311605841002</id><published>2005-02-01T01:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T01:36:25.213-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Goodness, the weekend I had.Since I'd been going to bed at seven in the morning and waking up at three (or later) in the afternoon, it really sucked that I had to wake up at eight on Saturday.  I tried to fix my sleep schedule, but it didn't happen.  Friday night I fell asleep after watching Battle Royale (around eleven) and woke up at about two fifteen.  So, I decided that I was probably going</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110724311605841002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110724311605841002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/02/goodness-weekend-i-had.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110689325745140426</id><published>2005-01-28T01:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-28T00:33:17.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I found a picture of myself on the local Rocky Horror Picture Show website.  It's from halloween 2004...the day from Hell.  No, I don't participate in such things.  I was working.  This is the only picture (besides the one of my GM) that was taken that had nothing to to with the show.  The guy that took it always hits on me.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110689325745140426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110689325745140426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-found-picture-of-myself-on-local.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110686898425589157</id><published>2005-01-27T17:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T17:36:24.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have written five scenes of my screenplay.  I wrote them, but I won't read them for a few days.  That way, if it's not stupid, I'll keep it.  If not, I'll rewrite them.They're saved to my computer.  When I was in middle and high school, I'd write short stories (twice a novel) and then I'd read it a couple of days later.  I'd hate them and then throw them away, never to think of them again.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110686898425589157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110686898425589157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-have-written-five-scenes-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110681534702620969</id><published>2005-01-27T02:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T04:25:24.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just wrote down some ideas (not very detailed, and some questions to myself) for the screenplay I've been talking about since October (such a fucking procrastinator, I am).  Here's hoping that, if this movie comes to fruition (or if I ever actually finish this and start filming and he demands to read the screenplay), Aquarius has a sense of humor.  Because it'll make him look insane, irrational</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110681534702620969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110681534702620969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-just-wrote-down-some-ideas-not-very.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110680339448431116</id><published>2005-01-26T23:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T23:29:42.950-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been having dreams where I'm seducing celebrities.Two nights ago, it was Dave Foley.  I would seduced him in real life...if he was like he was from mid-"Kids in the Hall" to "NewsRadio" era, but now he looks odd.Last night was Quentin Tarantino.  I am in no way physically attracted to Quentin.  Never have been.  Never even close.  Well, that's not true.  I came a teeny bit close when I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110680339448431116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110680339448431116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/ive-been-having-dreams-where-im.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110655653120429910</id><published>2005-01-24T02:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T02:50:18.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I saw the last thirty to forty minutes of Moolaade yesterday at work and saw the first hour or so today, and still I've missed twenty or so minutes, so I plan to see the rest at some point during this week. But I already know I like this movie.  Back in October or November, a co-worker had told me that we would be showing a movie about female genital mutilation. I was immediately appalled. I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110655653120429910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110655653120429910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-saw-last-thirty-to-forty-minutes-of.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110627590196140364</id><published>2005-01-20T20:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T21:10:33.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Chuck is the author of my new favorite blog.  Actually, I only read November 2004 until present, but that alone made this my favorite blog.  This guy is my age and got to go backpacking in Europe and then went to China.  I would love to be able to do such a thing.  Just go abroad to different places.  He went to Germany, Rome and Paris.  He was supposed to a couple of other places, but couldn't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110627590196140364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110627590196140364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/chuck-is-author-of-my-new-favorite.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110619443784870611</id><published>2005-01-19T21:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T04:53:18.806-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've become very nerdy.  I made a journal at Rotten Tomatoes so that I can trash movies.  I'll also talk about movies I love, though.  Here's the link.I watched House of Flying Daggers last night after watching Hero (I finally own Hero!) and I must say, I was surprised.Not pleasantly, however.  I was surprised when I found that it was from the same director as Hero.  I mean, it was visually </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110619443784870611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110619443784870611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/ive-become-very-nerdy.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110595174339281953</id><published>2005-01-17T02:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T03:44:54.126-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My birthday was pretty badass. PDS and I went to his aunt's because there was a birthday party for three people: his grandmother (January 13th), me and his cousin's husband (January 17th). I got so many birthday cards. And forty dollars (I got twenty on January 5th and a birthday card from his grandmother because she thought my birthday was the 5th). It was really cool. We all got "Happy Birthday</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110595174339281953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110595174339281953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-birthday-was-pretty-badass.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110540962797504595</id><published>2005-01-10T20:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T20:13:47.976-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My birthday is Saturday.  I'm going to be 22.  I'm not exactly sure if I even want to do anything, because for some reason I don't care (how exciting can a birthday be after your 21st?)  PDS's grandmother is having a birthday party for me, her and PDS's cousin's husband (his grandmother's birthday is the 13th, his cousin's husband's is the 17th) on Saturday at three, so that's something we're </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110540962797504595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110540962797504595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-birthday-is-saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110498514366809662</id><published>2005-01-05T22:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T22:23:47.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I had an entry that I was going to write about Christmas and Boscos last week, but I don't feel like it, so I'll just bring up to speed real quick:I quit Boscos because they were going to make me work all day Christmas Eve even though I told them I absolutely couldn't...so I just didn't show up.Christmas was really good, I got really awesome things.New Year's was good too.I've been </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110498514366809662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110498514366809662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-had-entry-that-i-was-going-to-write.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110335401910137644</id><published>2004-12-18T01:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-18T01:14:56.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've done most of my Christmas shopping.One of the hostesses from Boscos, Jessica, and I went shopping today so that I could get stuff for PDS. First, we went to Opry Mills and, seriously, there was nothing there.Then we went to Hickory Hollow and I scored.PDS did some shopping the day after Thanksgiving, so my little brother, his cousins and my other brother and his...wife...and my uncle </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110335401910137644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110335401910137644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/ive-done-most-of-my-christmas-shopping.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110314334601312332</id><published>2004-12-15T14:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T14:42:26.013-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just looked at all of the nominations for the Golden Globes.  Here are nominations I am pretty happy about:BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE – DRAMAUma Thurman - Kill Bill Vol. 2BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE - DRAMAJohnny Depp - Finding Neverland...I don't give a shit about the movie, but I love Johnny Depp!BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110314334601312332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110314334601312332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-just-looked-at-all-of-nominations.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110266035471577085</id><published>2004-12-09T23:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T00:34:14.130-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I put in my two week's notice today on the way to the post office to buy a hundred and forty dollars worth of postage stamps for the Belcourt. I didn't think the manager that was supposed to get the notice was there, so I just left the note for him and went to the post office. Later on, I had to go to all of the the businesses in Hillsboro Village to give them flyers for a holiday open house </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110266035471577085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110266035471577085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/so-i-put-in-my-two-weeks-notice-today.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110257499796945843</id><published>2004-12-09T01:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T00:49:57.970-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm giving Boscos my two week's notice tomorrow.  That's all there is to it.  I just don't want to work there anymore.  I got this sinking, disgusted feeling yesterday when I heard the first person say, "I'm meeting someone here, but I'm not sure if they're here yet or not."It's monotonous.  I hear the same shit all the time.  I just walk back and forth.  The managers keep screwing us all over </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110257499796945843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110257499796945843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/im-giving-boscos-my-two-weeks-notice.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110239906907275941</id><published>2004-12-06T23:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T00:29:08.406-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Saturday, the GM at the Belcourt asked me if I wanted to come in some days this week and help out with some office work. I told him sure because a)I'd like to become manager soon and I think this might help put my foot in the door b)I could definitely use the money for Christmas and c)fuck yeah, man! He gave me a seventy-five cent raise! Of course I'll help him out.So, I went in this morning at</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110239906907275941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110239906907275941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/saturday-gm-at-belcourt-asked-me-if-i.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110197288106072475</id><published>2004-12-02T01:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T01:43:03.283-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yeah, so the SpongeBob movie...not so good.  Surprising.  The cartoon's great.I saw an eighteen inch action figure of The Bride from Kill Bill.  I really want it...but PDS was like, "what would you do with it?"Duh, put it on display!  And let her stomp on my Gogo action figure.  And make out with my Edward Scissorhands action figure (which is eighteen inches as well...and moves by </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110197288106072475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110197288106072475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/yeah-so-spongebob-movie.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110191909045482489</id><published>2004-12-01T10:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-02T00:46:49.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I think I got a raise at the Belcourt.That's right.  I'm not sure, I just think...could be a mistake.I picked up my check  last night and it was for more money than I thought it'd be. It also said I make seventy-five cents an hour more than I did before. I'm depositing that bad boy today and then asking my boss this weekend if there's some mistake or if they just like to give raises to people</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110191909045482489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110191909045482489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-think-i-got-raise-at-belcourt.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110184194197261394</id><published>2004-11-30T13:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T13:16:11.973-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PDS and I went to see the director's cut of Donnie Darko last night. Some of the additions were cool, but I was unhappy about some. Like the fact that "Under the Milky Way" was deleted from the party scene and was just reduced to a couple of seconds on the radio earlier in the movie while Donnie and his dad are in a car.But there were some good changes: in the beginning, while he's going home </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110184194197261394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110184194197261394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/pds-and-i-went-to-see-directors-cut-of.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110080608152066721</id><published>2004-11-18T13:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T13:28:45.153-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I like how when you're a celebrity, dying is an image booster. No matter how much people hated you when you were alive, people act all sad when you die.I'd love to see if that happens when someone like Courtney Love dies (which I'm sure will be pretty soon).If I go to anymore webpages that say "R.I.P ODB", I just might go crazy.They're keeping his cause of death a secret, but it was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110080608152066721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110080608152066721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-like-how-when-youre-celebrity-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110074458995110431</id><published>2004-11-17T20:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T20:26:37.166-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am the only thing that comes up for "I don't want to ovulate" on Google.And it's true, I don't.I had a dream that David Cross and Bob Odenkirk got a new skit comedy show and they were filming an episode in my grandmother's backyard.  So, I go up to them and ask if I can be in their episode.  So, they said okay.  We did a skit where Bob Odenkirk and I were getting married and we got to make </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110074458995110431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110074458995110431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-am-only-thing-that-comes-up-for-i.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110054727668775732</id><published>2004-11-15T13:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T22:15:07.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If you like Devo and don't mind listening to songs in languages you don't understand, then you should totally check out Polysics.  I saw them on Pop Japan TV, which was promoting the CD Japan for Sale Volume 4.  They showed the video "Kaja Kaja Goo" by Polysics, and I must say, it was probably the best thing I ever saw/heard on a long, long time.  Well, it's the best thing I've heard since </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110054727668775732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110054727668775732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/if-you-like-devo-and-dont-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-110031762343157862</id><published>2004-11-12T21:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-12T22:14:31.393-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Okay, let's try to go in order today.Things I'm going to write about:I. The Nashville ZooII. Working a lot this weekIII. Possible new job at The BelcourtIV. Bellydance SuperstarsV. How much I feel better about BoscosVI. The way television makes guys look bad.So here goes:I. The Nashville Zoo PDS wanted to take me to the Zoo on Saturday, but I had called out of work sick and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110031762343157862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/110031762343157862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/okay-lets-try-to-go-in-order-today.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109970476091603788</id><published>2004-11-05T19:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T19:32:40.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, my doctor decided to scare me today...or try to get some more money out of me.  I don't know.So, for a month I couldn't take birth control pills because I couldn't make an appointemet soon enough to just make the pills continous.  By the time I made it to my appointment, I'd already been off the pill for a couple of weeks.  They put me on a lower dosage of pills and told me to start the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109970476091603788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109970476091603788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-my-doctor-decided-to-scare-me-today.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109970172127032929</id><published>2004-11-05T18:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T18:42:01.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I want to quit my hosting job.That is all.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109970172127032929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109970172127032929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-want-to-quit-my-hosting-job.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109963678599451218</id><published>2004-11-05T01:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T00:39:45.993-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have a cold.  Again.  I had one just over a month ago.  Grrrr.Seriously, my immune system is that of...something that has an immune system that sucks. I don't know.Today, some moron brought in a birthday cake...after the birthday person had been seated.  Of course, she wants me to get all Macgyver and sneak it past the birthday person without her seeing, which would've been impossible </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109963678599451218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109963678599451218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-have-cold.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109953862071379588</id><published>2004-11-03T21:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T21:23:40.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Finally!  What the fuck is wrong with Blogger?I'm not going to write about IT.  I wrote about that in my LiveJournal.  I've said little, but that's all I'm going to say for now.  Thank you.Here's some Tarantino-related news (no, it's not about that movie he's doing entirely in Manadrin):British actor and Irish RM star Peter Bowles inadvertently snubbed Quentin Tarantino recently, when the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109953862071379588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109953862071379588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/11/finally-what-fuck-is-wrong-with.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109928766029390177</id><published>2004-10-31T23:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T23:50:21.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Aside from Friday, MY HALLOWEEN WEEKEND SUCKED.  I couldn't go to any parties because of WORK! All I've done this weekend is sleep and WORK!  I delt with those damn Rocky Horror people!  I had to work until three thirty in the morning last night, right when Naked Dave's party ended.  The place was trashed after those Rocky Horror people (who, I'm sorry, I don't want to see in lingerie that can't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109928766029390177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109928766029390177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/10/aside-from-friday-my-halloween-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109916397830338699</id><published>2004-10-30T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-30T14:21:30.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PDS DJ'd at PM last night.  It was a costume party with insane drink specials.  When we got there it was two-for-one.  For the first bit, I sat around with Matt the PM and Adam in my Elle Driver costume (which was a huge hit) drinking beers.  Then the hostess I work with came.  I had to go outside on PDS's phone and give Goat Boy directions because some webpage gave him shitty directions.After </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109916397830338699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109916397830338699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/10/pds-djd-at-pm-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109890300482047259</id><published>2004-10-27T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-27T18:09:38.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have most of my Elle Driver costume.  Now I just need some red model paint to paint the black medical cross on my eye patch red and white loafers.  I got a nurse's dress (which was a pain in the neck to find) Monday.  I've decided not to get my hair dyed blonde after all.  It's close enough naturally.  Plus, Bryan/Tom Sellek/Pepe, PDS and I went to lunch Monday and PDS asked me not to get my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109890300482047259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109890300482047259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-have-most-of-my-elle-driver-costume.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109877216788169110</id><published>2004-10-26T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T01:29:27.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, Ashlee Simpson and her dad decided to come up with a crazy excuse.  She had acid reflux disease and "lost her voice".  She sure retrieved her voice in time to blame it on her band at the end of the show, didn't she?I am paying way too much attention to this story.  It's so unlike me, but I can't help it.  It's just so gosh darn funny.And the Ashlee Simpson forum has broken into chaos.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109877216788169110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109877216788169110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/10/so-ashlee-simpson-and-her-dad-decided.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3819572.post-109867667879816762</id><published>2004-10-24T22:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T23:00:10.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Friday, we went to Bryan/Pepe Creep/Tom Sellek and his wife Brenee's house to for the Creepshow Movie Night.  We saw The Stuff.  I'll tell you, if I never see that movie again, it'll probably be too soon.  After that, we went to Devil's Dungeon.  Now, I was pretty nervous about this.  I've only been to haunted houses one day in my life, and that was two years ago.  We went to two of them, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109867667879816762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3819572/posts/default/109867667879816762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgirlfriend.blogspot.com/2004/10/friday-we-went-to-bryanpepe-creeptom.html' title=''/><author><name>YourGirlfriend</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07175310747169133441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-108.vo.llnwd.net/00206/80/16/206986108_l.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
