tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40106679765922552912024-03-12T22:41:44.861-04:00My Lips to Yours!Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-66452116064000320862013-01-20T14:41:00.001-05:002013-01-20T14:41:18.944-05:00Baltimore is Earl Weaver<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Earl Weaver, the legendary manager of the Baltimore Orioles, has passed away. He died, as my brother sarcastically noted, "at the senseless age of 82." But still, this is a very sad event for me. To a lifelong Baltimorean and Orioles fan, Earl Weaver was much more than a successful manager or a sports legend. He was a figurehead for not just the Orioles, but for the city of Baltimore.<br />
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Think about it, ye die hard fans of Baltimore sports. What do you take pride in about your teams and your city? Is it that we're the most biggest, brightest or most popular? Is it because are teams are the sexiest, glitziest, and the classiest? Of course not. Baltimore prides itself on its grit, its determination, and its abilities to overcome adversity even when the odds are stacked against us. The Orioles did it this year by making the playoffs for the first time in 15 years. The Ravens are continuing to do it the playoffs now, winning when no one gives them a chance.<br />
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But I'm not just talking sports teams, here. This rings true for our teachers, our municipal employees, our police officers, our entrepreneurs, etc. Everyone here knows that you don't have to be the richest, prettiest or the most glamorous to succeed.<br />
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And so it was with Earl Weaver. He was small and Napoleonic. A full head shorter than most of his players he never let his diminutive stature get in the way of letting everyone know who was in charge. He was a tiny, hard-nosed, in-your-face pit bull of a manager. He could care less about what you thought of him as long as he got his results. And is this not a perfect description of Baltimore?<br />
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How do Baltimore fans want to describe their football team? Smashmouth. That's Earl Weaver.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdV7B9nIYMB6lCTfsQ3qGToXZ4WG0KH7o2ag2tMwu1QagCBk03mbcDabT51GVajNjU9HvKaMNYHf74CqDIEvSh0dyKo1dlkYXX1MjR8X4dPlCFVXc43JEuCG6xu9vF3lM70BvBMxbSEUw/s1600/Obit_Earl_Weaver_Baseball_0fa87--606x404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdV7B9nIYMB6lCTfsQ3qGToXZ4WG0KH7o2ag2tMwu1QagCBk03mbcDabT51GVajNjU9HvKaMNYHf74CqDIEvSh0dyKo1dlkYXX1MjR8X4dPlCFVXc43JEuCG6xu9vF3lM70BvBMxbSEUw/s320/Obit_Earl_Weaver_Baseball_0fa87--606x404.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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When the Maryland Terrapins won the men's basketball championship in 2002, was it because they were the best team on paper? No, they were underdogs with chips on their shoulders. That's Earl Weaver, too, and that is what made that run with their equally scrappy coach so fun to watch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Dc2fyrEoSTpllV4bCd6VMH6PeDweL_J5NJSMBsJSvcB29MC53Toz3vhZT8lSz0npxL6fHF_48PEQ8fWIy0fNZwswnr-fdBL3vxjXGo1_XcCGNVHjLefbjvuDa0wGcsb3qlI8tp8Dowe9/s1600/WEAVER-__-B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Dc2fyrEoSTpllV4bCd6VMH6PeDweL_J5NJSMBsJSvcB29MC53Toz3vhZT8lSz0npxL6fHF_48PEQ8fWIy0fNZwswnr-fdBL3vxjXGo1_XcCGNVHjLefbjvuDa0wGcsb3qlI8tp8Dowe9/s320/WEAVER-__-B.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Baltimore thrives on being the underdog. We're nestled on the East Coast between the capitol of the United States, and a city that honestly believes it's the capitol of the universe and won't shut up about it. And when people think about other great cities out here, what leaps to their minds isn't Baltimore as much as it is Boston, Philadelphia and Miami. But we don't mind. It makes it that much sweeter to kick your asses. <br />
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So you other towns can keep your flashy, overpaid players. Keep your footwear models, and your Guido, frat-boy managers. Keep your inflated payrolls and your supermodel girlfriends. Keep doing ads for insurance and pizzas and razor blades while you watch the playoffs from your couches. And next time you step on the field against Baltimore, remember, you're not just playing the Ravens or the Orioles, you're playing against Earl Weaver, because Baltimore IS Earl Weaver, and Earl Weaver is better than you!<br />
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The Ravens are playing the New England Patriots today in the AFC championship game, which pits this guy<br />
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against this guy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFI_2fo-DWa9TIQx6KyFuTOMQwLo-o85KEOy-ZQvzsQi5o-pD5W_J6IfzCKLmarLlTw88_ylE3tLn3b90u8JGp7cAIEy4lnoXJgAxsqsGiuTOkDpTaW5m7aQiLkwqscP_ApuAG9nEkx8I9/s1600/tom-brady-ugg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFI_2fo-DWa9TIQx6KyFuTOMQwLo-o85KEOy-ZQvzsQi5o-pD5W_J6IfzCKLmarLlTw88_ylE3tLn3b90u8JGp7cAIEy4lnoXJgAxsqsGiuTOkDpTaW5m7aQiLkwqscP_ApuAG9nEkx8I9/s320/tom-brady-ugg.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately for the Ravens, this shoe model happens to be a very talented quarterback, in addition to the really manly fella we see here. So my recommendation to the Ravens is a steady diet of Earl Weaver's playbook.<br />
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Pitching.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEowToh9FiGQmDocH-qP9QORCnwxZLxTYtOwVYo2_f1lpBpoZ1XNifP9wOiOREAsrHTcY1NMP2mdG8nh4cOaldJr6ncy1sKuB8aTiyO_y96KBqWmYqEgrVuxhA-XBZUGUa2Xft_S1AI0lW/s1600/joe-flacco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEowToh9FiGQmDocH-qP9QORCnwxZLxTYtOwVYo2_f1lpBpoZ1XNifP9wOiOREAsrHTcY1NMP2mdG8nh4cOaldJr6ncy1sKuB8aTiyO_y96KBqWmYqEgrVuxhA-XBZUGUa2Xft_S1AI0lW/s320/joe-flacco.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Defense.<br />
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And the three-run poke.<br />
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Earl Weaver, my lips to yours!<br />
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Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-54544266501166718312012-11-16T17:32:00.000-05:002012-11-16T17:32:23.304-05:00Plenty Off-ish, Indeed!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Gentle readers, it's good to be back with you. It has been a while. Since last we communed, I've changed jobs, lost a few pounds and... you're not here to read about me. So let's take a look at off-ish a-plenty women I'm supposed to be the perfect match for, shall we?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JR1X4s9NU15nLWapgk1KNC10IAoo1tVeA83IDy8rIg3UVTpDxb7A2Zf7IKeRhC4yYxeTN3bjLJGldqhtz06M9vPF9uagRiqB8V__C8Q6lf04wHeo_pSQnFJxBH5qWnMpFfzfzqVVjxrz/s1600/janem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JR1X4s9NU15nLWapgk1KNC10IAoo1tVeA83IDy8rIg3UVTpDxb7A2Zf7IKeRhC4yYxeTN3bjLJGldqhtz06M9vPF9uagRiqB8V__C8Q6lf04wHeo_pSQnFJxBH5qWnMpFfzfzqVVjxrz/s320/janem.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><u>I know a sport we can play! It's called, "Wreckin' Ball!"<br /></u></b></i></td></tr>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Jan--small </i>is a 33 year-old high school graduate who doesn't do drugs. Or does she? Part of the Plentyoffish.com profile asks whether or not you do drugs (a charming feature apparently meant to bring meth addicts together). She answered no. But later on she comes clean. "<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-size: 14px;">When I said the "Do you do drugs?" I only smoke to unwind and I do not smoke ciggarettes, but can be around those that do. Just being honest...." </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Aha! You lied when you said the "Do you do drugs!" But thanks for clearing up what the "Do you do drugs" was called. I had trouble putting my finger on that one. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 21px;">Other than her occasional pot usage, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Jan--small </i>loves the outdoors and run-on sentences. She used to be an athlete (what sport that may have been, God only knows) and can't wait to have kids! <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">"</span></i></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><i style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I played sports in high school, more then anything I would love to be a stay at home mom."</span></i><i style="color: #323232; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of commitment, so I'll have to move on, even if you aren't <i>"the kind to go to town on the first date if you catch my drift." </i>I'm not even sure if I want to catch your drift. Ta ta!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyx_1yf2b_znE-N0AVuMAxE7D5U96E77S-O7BWC_BKZf9VjFB1mtRcIF0Y3TII3MpRbSfzr-cJEgen0CCqYk1kc1_BmvuTjRlvLzosASbzWMfdfIjKKDYjf5rt7HsO2emK-NY5CR1j_P_/s1600/01wife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyx_1yf2b_znE-N0AVuMAxE7D5U96E77S-O7BWC_BKZf9VjFB1mtRcIF0Y3TII3MpRbSfzr-cJEgen0CCqYk1kc1_BmvuTjRlvLzosASbzWMfdfIjKKDYjf5rt7HsO2emK-NY5CR1j_P_/s320/01wife.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't matter if I got this baby on my hip, I'm not wearing a bra! Not wearing a bra = sexy!"<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Wife-Material-- </i>is a 25 year-old mother, student, poet, and animal lover. <i>"I wish I was a millionaire because it would totally go for all the sick abused animals." </i>Or she could buy a bra. But she's a very self-less person, which I like. <i>"I will take the shirt off my back for someone I care for."</i> Great! If you end up caring for me, you can take the shirt off your back for me and I'll be sure to pack an extra bra for you! Or you could just buy a bra. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When it comes to the kind of man she's looking for, I'm not sure if I'm up her alley. "</span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>I like strong , protective , take control kind of man. I like a family man who loves his family. I like older men..... I feel like they know what they want and are mature." </i>Although I love my family, I feel like I might be too immature for you, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Wife-Material--.</i> And I don't really feel like carrying a bra around with me every time you're feeling generous. On to open waters!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5t6Ci3cXDoTtmPX3Ya4amNCqVfqz3Ib6vA_Ng7xWdFnRMp7JAYVZFuAZaMw8nru9I6w7SQL2gvgg24JS8nS6f8tYzVg4iGmrMZStMT1owpwRHQifU2jvzFCh0qvhfLLAeLLpRcme8pN3/s1600/00shorty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5t6Ci3cXDoTtmPX3Ya4amNCqVfqz3Ib6vA_Ng7xWdFnRMp7JAYVZFuAZaMw8nru9I6w7SQL2gvgg24JS8nS6f8tYzVg4iGmrMZStMT1owpwRHQifU2jvzFCh0qvhfLLAeLLpRcme8pN3/s320/00shorty.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would we get along? As long as you reveal nothing about yourself, I think we might!<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Lilshorty----</i> is an enigma wrapped in a severe lack of information. She is a 25 year-old mother of two who lists "working, movies, dinner, road trips" as her interests. She's interested in dinner. Dinner. Not cooking or food pairings. Just dinner. I'm more of a breakfast guy myself, but I'll read on. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Her "About Me" section reads thus. <i><span style="font-family: inherit;">"</span></i></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Hey my name is **** I'm a 25 year old mother of 2 boys **** and **** I work full Time and like to chill out on my days off I've had bad Luck in the past and hope to one day find a good guy to be in mine and my kids life. So if you think we would get along shoot me a line no perverts please!"</i> If I think we'd get along? Other than the fact that I set the filter on Plentoffish.com's search features to exclude women with children (moms now seem to comprise over 50% of my matches) how could I possibly know if we'd get along? Oh, wait! We both like to chill out! And you're polite to the perverts and say please when asking them not to contact you! This could be a match made in heaven! If it weren't for your random capitalizations and complete misunderstanding of how to end sentences properly, I think we could chill and be polite to perverts together forever and ever. Quel dommage!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbqrXVttNWkZ4COUsJFJgr_mvKn8Ytvt1-KE8I95YJx9yT8kFfKLjua-r294TEVz7ec6r9pIzGMjRn7V2jEwV-9si2z2rxlJpdB4zY5IRTf_exlsRca4aY0X2AuTEihXVLawRgo9xMnio/s1600/03teach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbqrXVttNWkZ4COUsJFJgr_mvKn8Ytvt1-KE8I95YJx9yT8kFfKLjua-r294TEVz7ec6r9pIzGMjRn7V2jEwV-9si2z2rxlJpdB4zY5IRTf_exlsRca4aY0X2AuTEihXVLawRgo9xMnio/s320/03teach.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can spell the word "and" 3 different ways, even though none of them are right!</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 21px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Sweet--- </i>is a pre-school teacher who should make us all fear for the future. Her idea of a good first date is this. <span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"</i></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Wow first date ... I would love to meet up have a great dinner n glass of wine n jus sit in talk n learn each other and hopefully plan our next date."</i><i style="color: #323232;"> </i>Apparently, this educator speaks to her students only through text messages. Either that, or she never actually speaks in full words. If I were to ask her out on a date I think I'd have to say something like, "hy, bby, y dun we go n git sum wyn in learn bout ech otha an ho to rite wurds 2 ech otha." But that would be exhausting. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Speaking of which that's enough for now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My lips to yours!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-88799956451693670042012-07-16T13:26:00.002-04:002012-07-16T13:26:18.258-04:00Some Days, I Wish I Were Carrot Top<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been a while since we've communed, gentle readers. Life's been good but hectic of late. Not much of a moment to spare peering into the profiles of the gorgeous debutantes at Plentyoffish.com, but on my day off today, I figured I'd let curiosity do what it does best, and hopefully my cat will make it out of this little excursion alive. Just in case, I've put his veterinarian on call.<br />
<br />
Without further ado:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPVYuyL30k-JPwvskcpEnvS3zjQmKDd6LAlkbEwgX2VGrEvDCCq3ZdRzOilrMXAjOdT5BGUac3Qu7OMBPXjw7OzQpWBKMbl25P5AKa7SyrEGcHKppYTbC3IYDGq5ENqRgzDXGA8Wf31G5/s1600/srly5xrbgo_219980666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPVYuyL30k-JPwvskcpEnvS3zjQmKDd6LAlkbEwgX2VGrEvDCCq3ZdRzOilrMXAjOdT5BGUac3Qu7OMBPXjw7OzQpWBKMbl25P5AKa7SyrEGcHKppYTbC3IYDGq5ENqRgzDXGA8Wf31G5/s320/srly5xrbgo_219980666.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You see this face? This is my <i>sexy</i> face!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Court________1020 </i>gets straight to the point.<br />
<br />
<i>"Let me start first by saying if your just looking for sex you've come to the wrong place."</i><br />
<br />
And she's right about that! Smart, this one, even though she does still get tripped up by the "your, you're" conundrum, but who doesn't these days?<br />
<br />
<i>"I'm looking for something long term, not a one nighter." </i><br />
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Long term, eh? Have you thought of looking in your county's prisons? As for the one nighter thing, I think you're pretty safe.<br />
<br />
<i>"I want something REAL." </i><br />
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Fair enough. I'll put down the plastic mannequin I was putting together for you in a box marked "Boyfriend Material," and I'll wish you happy hunting.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvB6HA0xZ38O2NDozs8C2TCDy50mG-gSamWvn7ZyqvRzyuGIvIC4djzdGuR7hFOfS3BwmwLwjcGb1ewtwkQpT0gsf1f78-l0yTlZ57vUTJR9IxsxQc8Ol5VuoqeBPh6Og5RTqNIiJdDURl/s1600/vcnun5frny_203358154-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvB6HA0xZ38O2NDozs8C2TCDy50mG-gSamWvn7ZyqvRzyuGIvIC4djzdGuR7hFOfS3BwmwLwjcGb1ewtwkQpT0gsf1f78-l0yTlZ57vUTJR9IxsxQc8Ol5VuoqeBPh6Og5RTqNIiJdDURl/s320/vcnun5frny_203358154-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you call me, I'll f%$&ing stab you!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Greeen___Girl</i> struggles with the concept of "allure." She begins:<br /><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Ok, so I figure I have to write something here, and write something that is not mundane. I am a ****, I am picky, I hate short guys, bad teeth and smokers. Lol, is that eye catching or what? Actually I am pretty nice unless you irk me or piss me off and then I am not so nice."</i></span></span></div>
<br />
As I attempt to read the rest of her profile, I keep coming back to those four little asterisks and wondering which obscenity she meant them to stand for. I mean, even in the crazy, topsy-turvy world of Plentyoffish.com, no one starts out describing themselves by saying "I am a shit," right? You can't do that, no matter how crazy you are. "I am a fuck" doesn't make a lot of sense, nor does it bode much better as an enchanting descriptor. Based on the context of her paragraph, I'm going to go ahead and assume she left off an asterisk and meant to say, "I am a bitch." Come hither, indeed!<br />
<br />
Almost absurdly, we have something in common; neither of us like Plentyoffish.com.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="line-height: 21px;"> "I am intelligent, funny and overall a great catch. So why am I single. It has nothing to do with myself, actually it is all the absurd fellas on here. If I were to find a conventional one maybe I could get off of this dreadful site."</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></i></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;">Now, as a single man who occasionally peers at and publicly ridicules his Plentyoffish.com matches, I do appreciate the irony of what I'm about to suggest, but I feel rather strongly that in this case, the fact that she's still single has less to do with "the absurd fellas on here" and more to do with the fact that she equates being "a bitch" with being "a great catch." Or maybe I'm just absurd. Let's read on.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;">She describes her exercise habits (which are INTENSE!!!) and then goes through the <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/06/things-they-love-at-plentyoffishcom.html" target="_blank">inevitable list of things she loves,</a> followed by the things she dislikes.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">"I dislike talking on the phone, stalkers, harassment, smoking, ignorant people, and animal abuse. Yes I said I dislike the PHONE that means I do not want you to call me I would much rather talk by email, text or even snail mail. It doesn't matter who you are, ask my mother I call her once a month and talk to her daily by text. Its just me :)"</span></i></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;">Well, darling, I do believe that you have effectively removed all possibilities of anybody calling you on the phone. But I hope you find the right guy one day, one who's looking for a righteous bitch, one who sees you as the catch you really are, who's not one of those hate-able short guys, and who really needs a royal pain the ass.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRvt673PTEiMbxWLbXq-wXnrPR6ug7L5QA-8mTF53LSyGsVxLNswOoDdLZlG3ZaSq3FGtDWzdrlkkjCO3kTefFX-zwswLJ1tOQjvEXrl0N96wefMQgzBSAvT9arxk5gOj9f5ps-QyTFrE/s1600/iwpuflwo4i_209347860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRvt673PTEiMbxWLbXq-wXnrPR6ug7L5QA-8mTF53LSyGsVxLNswOoDdLZlG3ZaSq3FGtDWzdrlkkjCO3kTefFX-zwswLJ1tOQjvEXrl0N96wefMQgzBSAvT9arxk5gOj9f5ps-QyTFrE/s320/iwpuflwo4i_209347860.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her tagline reads (I swear): "My knight and shiney armor."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />I'm going to let <i style="font-weight: bold;">Msjiggly____ </i>speak for herself:<br /><span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"I am a lady I am down to earth and I speak my mind I also like to cook I am sexy I like to draw write poetry and I like to sang and dance.... I am looking for a man potential a good head on his shoulders yes and sexy and in amazing lover no big fat it forehead it dudes,no ugly dudes,no fat or becoming fat dudes,bald dudes,short dudes,wearing glasses 24hour dudes,ewwwwwha so grossa :-/ you're not allowed don't even think about it.I want a man that knows how to treat and talk to a lady.. he must know what he want in and out of life he has to drive in have a car and an amazing lover he must be tall he must know how to dress. He also has to be a gentleman, and romantic and seductively freaky.. I'm not here to waste my time.I want a man not a little boy."</i></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you're looking for a man with a car, who isn't fat or bald, doesn't wear glasses and is "seductively freaky." I'm guessing you're looking for this:</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCzO_Iz5Y1vdkHLnBdf04ZM5E43dkIinaz7Gs9gAuLfn7KIoI54jsnM3rfRTnl5g_pR4O9ldvvKtzlTnio0iaGvUrh8qkYpoKmzg1Lzh3n6rjyy_WdQVod3YZW7IaiD8iRNmjxGjPKHoI/s1600/carrotjuice2.jpg.crdownload" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCzO_Iz5Y1vdkHLnBdf04ZM5E43dkIinaz7Gs9gAuLfn7KIoI54jsnM3rfRTnl5g_pR4O9ldvvKtzlTnio0iaGvUrh8qkYpoKmzg1Lzh3n6rjyy_WdQVod3YZW7IaiD8iRNmjxGjPKHoI/s320/carrotjuice2.jpg.crdownload" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">My lips to yours (no, not you, Carrot Top).</span></div>
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PS. My cat is still with us.</div>
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<span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-87830852324060149122012-03-21T17:09:00.000-04:002012-03-21T17:09:50.224-04:00Plentyoffish: Latest Matches<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Does this even require words? I don't think so. I'm just going to let these pictures and profile descriptions stand for themselves.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHHkWcvtv6r9gOBSiCyobguK8Sx-wZ_OTqe_oDujHW-pv_B_J99Gc8riOyqEwwXjZ27CUG-XuFIo2AIcbdIJVBG9HMmy3ddoA85PXi6oYRX-o-AWdUSxOGwquSGl5mnDcu0QZ60QcJnh3/s1600/0vrg3rww0v_195534650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHHkWcvtv6r9gOBSiCyobguK8Sx-wZ_OTqe_oDujHW-pv_B_J99Gc8riOyqEwwXjZ27CUG-XuFIo2AIcbdIJVBG9HMmy3ddoA85PXi6oYRX-o-AWdUSxOGwquSGl5mnDcu0QZ60QcJnh3/s320/0vrg3rww0v_195534650.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not that it matters, but she's the one on the left.<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
ABOUT ME<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">This is always the hardest part! I love all kinds of things like... RAVENS FOOTBALL,reading, outdoors, camping, boating, the beach, traveling, and much more!!!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">I'am very layed back and easy going!Enjoy a night on the couch with a good movie or a night out on the town! I love kids have non of my own but do have neices and nephews!!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">I guess I will leave it at this for now and see if it works! Oh and I have 10 tattoos all covered but Im hooked ;)</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPOiPYKTpf0AimH68TGg3F30ilS2_o74B8MyDjAYhThgdmT8_wci6009kXazPOtGrtahPana9Zi2K3SYJH3YJuiFl-FnR6eTlJmx_VVxGu6UlmYGOrcPKb2LcdXoEOqqthPrTPagn8Lj5/s1600/vl1metsu5u_195404136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPOiPYKTpf0AimH68TGg3F30ilS2_o74B8MyDjAYhThgdmT8_wci6009kXazPOtGrtahPana9Zi2K3SYJH3YJuiFl-FnR6eTlJmx_VVxGu6UlmYGOrcPKb2LcdXoEOqqthPrTPagn8Lj5/s320/vl1metsu5u_195404136.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Come hither? Don't mind if I don't!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="line-height: 23px;">ABOUT ME</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">Im so down to earth,I love to have fun and just live life to the fullest. My hobbies are I love to cook that is my thing. I love to see my man smiling while eating my cooking. My goals in life is to open my own business,and also go back to school to get my nursing degree. I would say that I am a good female I love to be spontanious and just have fun. I can be serious at times when its needed but I'm usually smiling most of the time . I love music when I listen to r&b and one soul its just so calming. I also love hiphop. But all in all im a good gal that will keep it 100 all the time.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgldRn7M3gdJgLI4k2vdBM_tVjPEVmLrC0pTrgy6QzLJMBQmATdLsoQTj5DPyYkJ0US2NVB5A7svw-SWC9Ec2wraN0XcPu6YGPMP0MTGq4G2JZ8Apmn3XoBJu9jiLYX0bNspAD_d-XxWoJ/s1600/odih0vy0uu_194778481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgldRn7M3gdJgLI4k2vdBM_tVjPEVmLrC0pTrgy6QzLJMBQmATdLsoQTj5DPyYkJ0US2NVB5A7svw-SWC9Ec2wraN0XcPu6YGPMP0MTGq4G2JZ8Apmn3XoBJu9jiLYX0bNspAD_d-XxWoJ/s320/odih0vy0uu_194778481.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That navel ring is hot! Good thing she's not pregnant... Oh wait...<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">ABOUT ME</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">talking on the phone,chilling with friends, working out. i am 27 and yes i am preg right now .but i am a sweet and caring person .i have 3 kids and they are my world i do have a daughter that is diable. If you don't like me for me then oh well your lost. I love to have fun. If you wan't to know any thing else just send a message.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNsSRSAXToVVhfJfAlGYVkO6HVydRS2cREpqDi46gJqv7miX09WKrUvP8G-hjYpf5gKLYf4TqBo8SV0Ws4n2hX6CQl0SomyG3CxaNfxPCftxDaDhIf0YlPrvs1HAuGAGcYixlrxbZ1Gzp/s1600/wjf2vg45pi_98166356-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNsSRSAXToVVhfJfAlGYVkO6HVydRS2cREpqDi46gJqv7miX09WKrUvP8G-hjYpf5gKLYf4TqBo8SV0Ws4n2hX6CQl0SomyG3CxaNfxPCftxDaDhIf0YlPrvs1HAuGAGcYixlrxbZ1Gzp/s320/wjf2vg45pi_98166356-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um... Gosh I hope she can spell and/or use appropriate grammar when describing herself!</td></tr>
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ABOUT ME<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">jeeze these things are tough, but i am going to try to talk about myself lol. My best and favorite hobbies are, movies, reading, writing, playing with my pets, and going to the book store, or local coffee shop, (i dont mean starbucks) I want to be a great novelist and travel around the world, my main places i want to visit is irland, japan, and london so far. But wondering the country and finding the qutie little shops that people over look is great too. what makes me different is i am easy going and not hard to impress, i am very open minded to many things and willing to try it once. I am pretty much a fun person to be around, i can go to horror movies, and comdey and action and not get scared enough to leave, and you dont have to worry about me draging you to a chick flick becuase i dont care much for them. lol. i love all kind of music it doesnt matter somethings i just download the song without knowing the band. if you think i am the right kind of girl for you send me a message</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HI55dlmRngUbEw3gMbFebEAj9jIpbB-OLzA6ywGsQwt0fCHQWrOsdtZMe6jj3BCVz2lq2DDc6tMrtnnr4g3t1xymnLUUWql7j8Aeu1feyHt65rZg8UmF8o536gvOBSoklHPlYtBjch6D/s1600/50nq5a1tbn_193343037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HI55dlmRngUbEw3gMbFebEAj9jIpbB-OLzA6ywGsQwt0fCHQWrOsdtZMe6jj3BCVz2lq2DDc6tMrtnnr4g3t1xymnLUUWql7j8Aeu1feyHt65rZg8UmF8o536gvOBSoklHPlYtBjch6D/s320/50nq5a1tbn_193343037.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She looks like a happy person. I'm sure she won't sound depressed in her profile! I'm sure of it!<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
ABOUT ME<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">My name is christine. I have 2 kids a boy who lives with hos dad for the time being and my daughter stays with her gma for school. I am tired of playing games. This is going to be rhe last time im on here.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
Wow.<br />
<br />
My lips to yours.<br />
<br /></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-41329108279869344252012-03-04T18:10:00.000-05:002012-03-04T18:10:21.465-05:00Tattoos, Exclamation Points and Sheer Lunacy.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As spring time approaches, the good people at plentyoffish.com know that love is in the air, so they sent me my latest matches today, from their most esteemed dating service. However, at plentyoffish.com, love is not the only thing that's in the air. Horrible grammar, coma-inducing introductions, and pictures of ladies who look like failed science experiments fill the proverbial nostrils of the geniuses at our favorite dating website, at which point they happily sneeze them across the internet and directly into my inbox. I suppose this whole analogy makes me the weird kid from grade school who liked to show you his boogers, but I'm okay with that. Let's take a look-see, shall we?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4UZv3DmJeXeUmru9iA5iTC54DJ0k2zn7tdDbk7rYtDS_H77EAClwSPF1zYvvVNO98jQMQfOfFI7ETkGPxH9yXdfwrHiYGfCdwx8c5q2CWmGfpXRn2f-8Uf8HErQQ4ORZ7urYjJwe_aYO/s1600/1POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4UZv3DmJeXeUmru9iA5iTC54DJ0k2zn7tdDbk7rYtDS_H77EAClwSPF1zYvvVNO98jQMQfOfFI7ETkGPxH9yXdfwrHiYGfCdwx8c5q2CWmGfpXRn2f-8Uf8HErQQ4ORZ7urYjJwe_aYO/s320/1POF.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Jenni----30 </i>sure is a looker. She's 30 years old, 5'2" and has an "average body type." She enjoys playing pool, bowling, and country line dancing, and she wants her would-be suitors to know, "I'm looking for someone that serious about wanting to date someone." Are you, now, Jenni? Well, I'm serious about wanting to date someone, but I feel that your captivating hazel eyes and come-hither smile are a bit too much for me. I can get jealous sometimes and I feel that when ever we went out, I'd have to stave off herds of available men as they flock to your beauty. And that puts a lot of pressure on me. And I, for one, don't respond well to pressure.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/plentyoffish-saga-continues.html" target="_blank">My next match is a familiar one.</a> <i style="font-weight: bold;">Mskiki289</i>, as you'll recall, enjoys being treated like a canine. But she has updated her profile, so let's take a gander at it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-N84nHsXxkABONVBtpvZ92y2jmrts_WEbu80L65G8DBkb6HF2iM3UwXvuVy10ocPPXw2d4j6zLoUTZijrhdgkOwJgChSEtDQHxM-ro0mwi3gNNIsfvD4UDp5wvKQhxpY7xgatI1t_Xj3/s1600/11POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-N84nHsXxkABONVBtpvZ92y2jmrts_WEbu80L65G8DBkb6HF2iM3UwXvuVy10ocPPXw2d4j6zLoUTZijrhdgkOwJgChSEtDQHxM-ro0mwi3gNNIsfvD4UDp5wvKQhxpY7xgatI1t_Xj3/s320/11POF.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
Her profile still contains a "my sister and I don't share men" warning which is... off-putting, but she no longer asks potential suitors to rub her belly and play fetch, so she's making progress. However, what she's apparently looking for in a relationship is a bit odd.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"It would be nice to find someone with a sense of humor, likes to do things together and if you like to play around and wrestle also would be hot. I'm a bit competitive so if you need a workout partner, shooting bows and arrows, gun range, beer pong, golf, friendly race or watching sports together then im your girl." </i><br />
<br />
Thank God, Mskiki!!! All I've ever wanted out of a relationship is wrestling, a workout partner, shooting bows and arrows, a gun range, beer pong, golf and a friendly race! I'd like to do all of these things at the same time though, if you're up for it. You could wrestle around on my back while shooting a gun, and I'd be shooting a bow and arrow at a beer pong table as I raced around the golf course (in a friendly manner, of course). Please, Mskiki, be my girl!<br />
<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Midnight----85 </i>is my next match and she is all about her tattoos.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHTmYgZVp6XDsXnm-FwrqTkaSI7dagC9CZhCw-3vB4i9WrVZcZz8t2NO_HpharNt9ez97MqRUEI_zry3DsuOC3dfcXdj6VbloSKvJuNt8PeInpi3mrOrLesgPTPJzKjQksAz6vzb6XXnl/s1600/12POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHTmYgZVp6XDsXnm-FwrqTkaSI7dagC9CZhCw-3vB4i9WrVZcZz8t2NO_HpharNt9ez97MqRUEI_zry3DsuOC3dfcXdj6VbloSKvJuNt8PeInpi3mrOrLesgPTPJzKjQksAz6vzb6XXnl/s320/12POF.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><br />
Her entire "About Me" section reads thusly:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Hi my name is Andrea. I'm 5'2 i have long brown hair green eyes i have 12 tattoos. somethings i like to do for fun is hangout with friends play pool get tattoos play with my son n go to the movies. i'm just on here chatting n see wat happens so if u would like to chat just leave me a message."</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">Remember when the only people with tattoos were bikers or people in the military? You know, because they were badass? Now people get tattoos when they're BORED WITH SHOOTING POOL! Christ. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">My next match is well... just too easy. So we'll move onto the next one. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Bean--- </i>doesn't reveal much about herself which keeps the whole "internet dating" thing mysterious. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5B3CosqVaihfHtugeyA0HqxczMjvS4z5vsscAwHMLV961LNgQEdXm-Hn7rxiYueWKMTF1au2FbUzREP5xyuHKDGVzAs6lN_177I8rZd_HaOkjsLtU6AHxXlIai3ikpKuJnIJowpZ-Oih/s1600/01POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5B3CosqVaihfHtugeyA0HqxczMjvS4z5vsscAwHMLV961LNgQEdXm-Hn7rxiYueWKMTF1au2FbUzREP5xyuHKDGVzAs6lN_177I8rZd_HaOkjsLtU6AHxXlIai3ikpKuJnIJowpZ-Oih/s320/01POF.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">She lists her interests as "I need a bad boy" and nothing else. Well, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Bean---</i>, I guess I could see if the Riddler's in town because you look like the type who really needs a villain, what with your economically sensible packages of Bounty paper towels and Charmin toilet tissue. With the Riddler you'd learn to spend with reckless abandon, and that "bad boy" lifestyle would be sure to rev your engines. However, I'm probably not the guy for you as I, too, spend thriftily at the grocery store. So I must move on. Enjoy your coupon nights with your bad boy!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Lei---87 </i>is a 25 year old nursing student who REALLY loves exclamation points!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw7D8dFzkVsVS_0KLPjCh3U1MhNBfzAfOiedwywciqu8w8qBs16DNlePkWo3MEkjGSBMBH3Mo-IfJDf__RsgW0j7Z0xH2-iKF2CyeYLR9eIxs1oYGo8kYo-tLcbppsoM-QIOXhiIQpabj/s1600/02POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw7D8dFzkVsVS_0KLPjCh3U1MhNBfzAfOiedwywciqu8w8qBs16DNlePkWo3MEkjGSBMBH3Mo-IfJDf__RsgW0j7Z0xH2-iKF2CyeYLR9eIxs1oYGo8kYo-tLcbppsoM-QIOXhiIQpabj/s320/02POF.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">A charming native of Glen Burnie who claims to be fond of cooking, dancing and karaoke, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Lei---87's</i> true passion lies with punctuation. Her About Me section reads: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><i>I am a 25 yr old nursing student who loves to hang out have fun and be myself. I am looking for someone to have fun with but also knows when to be serious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">I can be serious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't even have a problem discussing the horrors of addiction or how my Grandma died of cancer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Lei---87</i> also included this lovely picture as if to say in a Glen Burnie accent, "Dis is muh butt, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwo-dJtwAj2ZzUS32fuTbCbASzC4QgE_I8bxPztB1yuSjEWjDxEQ04AzfDOkbFvZTyqxXEiw0SzXEN9CL4esxlmTiLM5U0msvfJOrR7qdOB64l1yTdgzw0OnK3T8eKSHWHLbCIV0gJYud/s1600/03POF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwo-dJtwAj2ZzUS32fuTbCbASzC4QgE_I8bxPztB1yuSjEWjDxEQ04AzfDOkbFvZTyqxXEiw0SzXEN9CL4esxlmTiLM5U0msvfJOrR7qdOB64l1yTdgzw0OnK3T8eKSHWHLbCIV0gJYud/s320/03POF.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">You stay classy, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Lei---87</i>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">Okay, I think that's it for today. I'd let you look some more but there's only so much depraved weirdness I can take in one day. I think I'm all stocked up for a while. Until next time...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">My lips to yours!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-39389656240720384222012-02-07T22:31:00.000-05:002012-02-07T22:31:17.783-05:00Poop Movie Game<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oKlEYlauiCT5CPP6qwD0DXEhCge1NNE7OVSBqVRaPX8Gq5dK5hCmhipVyT0-BqgI8_YljSsJHAqJmtiG7BwC5oezNEzp8DNFjgEf7TMWp6Ucwpa59Ax7exnATrPIXqlzpPij78tNiBjj/s1600/11charlieposter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oKlEYlauiCT5CPP6qwD0DXEhCge1NNE7OVSBqVRaPX8Gq5dK5hCmhipVyT0-BqgI8_YljSsJHAqJmtiG7BwC5oezNEzp8DNFjgEf7TMWp6Ucwpa59Ax7exnATrPIXqlzpPij78tNiBjj/s320/11charlieposter.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: This idea is not my own. As far as I know it was developed by my brother, Thom, his wife Colleen, and my friend, Brian. Credit for this game goes to them.<br />
<br />
Here's how you play the Poop Movie Game. Use movie titles to describe your bowel movements. It's that easy. I'll list a bunch to get you started. Feel free to post some here, or share them with your friends. The movie titles, not the poops. Unless you're German and/or you really don't like your friends.<br />
<br />
In no particular order of greatness or hilarity.<br />
<br />
Nightmare on Elm Street<br />
Can't Hardly Wait<br />
The Quick and the Dead<br />
Herbie Goes Bananas<br />
The Pride of the Yankees<br />
Waiting to Exhale<br />
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days<br />
The Gold Rush<br />
Twister<br />
Something's Gotta Give<br />
Tremors<br />
Days of Thunder<br />
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close<br />
Thunderball<br />
The Phantom Menace<br />
<br />
There are probably few I haven't heard in the past week from those who have played, but please, continue the list, and as always...<br />
<br />
My lips to yours.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-37524707387400293812012-01-12T20:12:00.000-05:002012-01-12T20:12:33.637-05:00My Personal Top 10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My friend Liz at <a href="http://naptimedecorator.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Naptime Decorator</a> recently posted her Top 10, most viewed posts of 2011. I thought that was a great idea until I realized that my entire blog (now two years old) doesn't have the viewership of one of her regular posts. However, I remain undaunted and will sully myself silly with self-indulgence, all in the name of having a Top 10 of my own, even if it means that I'm telling you not which were <i>your </i>favorite posts of mine, but which were <i>my </i>favorite posts of mine. If you can't handle such self-gratifying profligacy, then read no further. Otherwise, enjoy.<br />
<br />
10) <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2010/04/army-of-oblivious.html" target="_blank">The Army of the Oblivious</a> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfWSMDswZF6nKVMiwu93nsYZUBB0BpI2qKOBtGdVMeaPB-sQUHmDp-MDUhEsA5aM84FqZ2MtfVtOEsdhZaPqgDMmf5XHZ06u-aakyTOhRwAMG7JQr_fnYHCghrmOwnPZfFpBE6mXCJ4OF/s1600/1far-side-school-for-gifted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfWSMDswZF6nKVMiwu93nsYZUBB0BpI2qKOBtGdVMeaPB-sQUHmDp-MDUhEsA5aM84FqZ2MtfVtOEsdhZaPqgDMmf5XHZ06u-aakyTOhRwAMG7JQr_fnYHCghrmOwnPZfFpBE6mXCJ4OF/s320/1far-side-school-for-gifted.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
From my days working as a lifeguard at the Health Club, dealing with people who refuse to put two and two together for themselves.<br />
<br />
9) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Anal Game</span></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhL9JMPWXlV1I54jCOFXeIJ13_IdArqzIgQxl2cCe8CfIkg8DjoaHG5Jat3CXNSkwoL3cvBuLvQYOoZQFeYlNm-XNlXujFiLCPFVtMGkPhbDBdZBqRctuzcTSe0yHGo-G0PjSd8cj278u7/s1600/2008-chevrolet-avalanche-3_800x0w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhL9JMPWXlV1I54jCOFXeIJ13_IdArqzIgQxl2cCe8CfIkg8DjoaHG5Jat3CXNSkwoL3cvBuLvQYOoZQFeYlNm-XNlXujFiLCPFVtMGkPhbDBdZBqRctuzcTSe0yHGo-G0PjSd8cj278u7/s320/2008-chevrolet-avalanche-3_800x0w.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
You don't want an Anal Avalanche, now do you? Do you?<br />
<br />
8) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2010/04/hot-tub-ites.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Hottubites</span></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XpHMcvq8hPWyK2BrG5HRpperg2u7gj5p6-XUoOzJ7BgSRu4PWIYCuYx70WygQcFu47yiqotN5v6-dKxMqHMUigzqJhWU9RCeMmaJBvAlmWUzsRYyBbZ4UdGmRjOQwCMWQIbiK-ejWLmU/s1600/1fifteen-fat-people-hot-tub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XpHMcvq8hPWyK2BrG5HRpperg2u7gj5p6-XUoOzJ7BgSRu4PWIYCuYx70WygQcFu47yiqotN5v6-dKxMqHMUigzqJhWU9RCeMmaJBvAlmWUzsRYyBbZ4UdGmRjOQwCMWQIbiK-ejWLmU/s320/1fifteen-fat-people-hot-tub.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Health club zealots.<br />
<br />
7) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/05/mega-shark-vs-crocosaurus-really-long.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus</span></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwD9juw3uknvB_-G8Kl9e-aqMS6EsqDTsjcTuk_3X4Nnb9t919-fmIhAO4UHk6mSYyMU_z1DZyGOu_e4rNYMj35Ta_NC__aY7RpaWNWJ6x6X6L_vCnOegLEwMpoLQfSg-hF9L1a9u8-6uk/s1600/1megashark-vs-crocosaurus-JaleelWhite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwD9juw3uknvB_-G8Kl9e-aqMS6EsqDTsjcTuk_3X4Nnb9t919-fmIhAO4UHk6mSYyMU_z1DZyGOu_e4rNYMj35Ta_NC__aY7RpaWNWJ6x6X6L_vCnOegLEwMpoLQfSg-hF9L1a9u8-6uk/s320/1megashark-vs-crocosaurus-JaleelWhite.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
The first half of my unfinished movie review of Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus. Also, my most viewed post to date.<br />
<br />
6) Speaking of the word, date, here's <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/plentyoffish-saga-continues.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Plentyoffish.com the Saga Continues.</span></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2uHHTjVjnjlizTk0Jqbiy_cvBLmRRLTeSwJWbld33B2PhsvhTvfi25oGOtNJluLLOKFnjLvfCKVEVa4puig_V5MTQonyoHrjpfQWC1ugCbdZMpfPuGgtbgMVu1t7ELo-t0nUqYTMEVkB/s1600/bass-fishing-2-706597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2uHHTjVjnjlizTk0Jqbiy_cvBLmRRLTeSwJWbld33B2PhsvhTvfi25oGOtNJluLLOKFnjLvfCKVEVa4puig_V5MTQonyoHrjpfQWC1ugCbdZMpfPuGgtbgMVu1t7ELo-t0nUqYTMEVkB/s320/bass-fishing-2-706597.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Who knew that a free dating website could be so entertaining!<br />
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5) <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2010/10/ninja-pooping.html" target="_blank">Ninja Pooping</a></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt_mtvVOpBHxcVDCUkYPNSwN0b2s9Ol3MIjfyQLjTGsfTdYIATG0zT1A104xsgdolHMep6PxibjpVlHLBjXS0n1h2nQrvwb2EJhjh8Kyef2NGgkNShBezHnZ2AicGDyVQbbReYZYzMOCh/s1600/1poop_ninja_tshirt-p235934107235481886z8npz_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt_mtvVOpBHxcVDCUkYPNSwN0b2s9Ol3MIjfyQLjTGsfTdYIATG0zT1A104xsgdolHMep6PxibjpVlHLBjXS0n1h2nQrvwb2EJhjh8Kyef2NGgkNShBezHnZ2AicGDyVQbbReYZYzMOCh/s320/1poop_ninja_tshirt-p235934107235481886z8npz_400.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
You'll never see me coming.<br />
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4) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Drunken Master [Warning: Graphic Scenes Depicted]</span></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwG_F3TGvvxE4aeJlc90MhYUGO2Pp8rJi6ONFpqc7Q52kTbHOr8TJKtlbbFni3xNALSGVQCwP4uNBuHciydri8OwHFFcLjY8nHYWfHI6In1293kJkyKSs0qwVW5etvUf-BhLUzW47fQl0/s1600/1drunken+master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwG_F3TGvvxE4aeJlc90MhYUGO2Pp8rJi6ONFpqc7Q52kTbHOr8TJKtlbbFni3xNALSGVQCwP4uNBuHciydri8OwHFFcLjY8nHYWfHI6In1293kJkyKSs0qwVW5etvUf-BhLUzW47fQl0/s320/1drunken+master.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><br />
When life gives you vomit, throw it up on your stomach in public.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
3) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/learning-to-squawk.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Learning to Squawk </span></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRSXXiRcTP291xRDqmZkA9zgwW8oBEJbJLz7g_pksvvdw6uO_uWvC033qxnCNan8QHHXjDRDDkIlGhju3xjn8t4aCaq0rstVAOit6YJzb2tnZyvaPXIIu8f5O2InMwWZnWnx4ktcHYj7B/s1600/1Avanti_020742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRSXXiRcTP291xRDqmZkA9zgwW8oBEJbJLz7g_pksvvdw6uO_uWvC033qxnCNan8QHHXjDRDDkIlGhju3xjn8t4aCaq0rstVAOit6YJzb2tnZyvaPXIIu8f5O2InMwWZnWnx4ktcHYj7B/s320/1Avanti_020742.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">More Health Club Shenanigans</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/food-network-drinking-game.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Food Network Drinking Game</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamygJG5-Ffksikwv5JLWt0SeaEjCKk-Wsf75uRbs5MbftnaSTegcZ9oD9BNcc8g-MMA-5bww_XV8m15LmSyinOFqGu82RLs5nGqEPV2voffhpZDUVBTJJnUHFnhQpA9qOPw4j6ZLZpPVM/s1600/1food_network.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamygJG5-Ffksikwv5JLWt0SeaEjCKk-Wsf75uRbs5MbftnaSTegcZ9oD9BNcc8g-MMA-5bww_XV8m15LmSyinOFqGu82RLs5nGqEPV2voffhpZDUVBTJJnUHFnhQpA9qOPw4j6ZLZpPVM/s320/1food_network.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh, Food Network. When I'm diagnosed with cirrhosis, I'll sue the crap out of you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1) <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/12/meet-me-at-plentyoffish.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Meet Me at Plentyoffish</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidaq4pBPO1zei4oHDhvMY6F-LeZvqT4SfyZ-UphCCefzUUDFQciEQEny1x5tsIXeoHMK5tZV3z8eeFUrej_cIKsbEQA0brCQL1X9ol0jsj2o_yNTvV0WEdafgiYPnfn-iYmXPio4scw1x/s1600/1Plentyoffish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidaq4pBPO1zei4oHDhvMY6F-LeZvqT4SfyZ-UphCCefzUUDFQciEQEny1x5tsIXeoHMK5tZV3z8eeFUrej_cIKsbEQA0brCQL1X9ol0jsj2o_yNTvV0WEdafgiYPnfn-iYmXPio4scw1x/s320/1Plentyoffish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just when you think they can't get any worse, they add a new feature.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well that's my Top 10. If you care to, let me know if you agree with me. I doubt you'll re-read these but maybe, just maybe, you'll get REALLY bored. Thanks for reading and as always...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My lips to yours!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-77456851065312253712011-12-23T21:00:00.002-05:002011-12-27T13:40:20.456-05:00The (not so) Frugal Drinking Game!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I've previously written about my love of watching the Food Network because of all the <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/10/just-like-that.html" target="_blank">scary</a>, <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/05/douchebaggery-unlimited.html" target="_blank">douchebaggy</a>, and <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/05/proof-that-inhaling-too-much-onion-soup.html" target="_blank">bat-shit crazy</a> cooking show hosts who regale us with tales of culinary techniques both foreign and domestic. They certainly are a delight, and if they ever fail to amuse, there are always <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/food-network-drinking-game.html" target="_blank">good drinking games</a> to be played while watching their shows to lighten the mood and wobble your gait.<br />
<br />
Recently, though, I've been watching youtube clips of some of the cooking show hosts from the days of yore. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5aeu9RAsOlI/TvUtXyi-XuI/AAAAAAAAAUY/GpEXolmKWWw/s1600/justin_wilson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5aeu9RAsOlI/TvUtXyi-XuI/AAAAAAAAAUY/GpEXolmKWWw/s1600/justin_wilson.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Justin Wilson, better known to most as the "Ah Gahr-Uhn-TEE" Cajun guy, is always entertaining, but in an old timey sort of way.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZX3Y27LXFYw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
He also makes some pretty good food, though it's certainly not as flashy as the modern hosts. I recently made the recipe found in the video above (minus the chicken gizzards) and it was delicious.<br />
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But my search led me to a fella I'd largely forgotten about, Jeff Smith, "The Frugal Gourmet."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mjCaSwoC1Qg/TvUotyCEOVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/9VY-O8uvli8/s1600/The-Frugal-Gourmet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mjCaSwoC1Qg/TvUotyCEOVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/9VY-O8uvli8/s1600/The-Frugal-Gourmet.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Oh, boy is this guy something else! He is rather tough to describe. He was a sweet old poop, and at the same time, a raging maniac. He pronounces "water" with about four h's before the first syllable (i.e. "hhhhwater") and "peanuts" as if it were a homonym of "penis." He also burns himself with alarming regularity. He has a massive case of attention deficit disorder and frequently pronounces a dish "done," "ready," or "ready to go" up to five times before he's finished adding ingredients. He frequently starts a story or recipe and begins a different story or recipe before the one he started is remotely finished. There are so many gaffes, foul-ups and nonsensical banter you won't believe it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/5Mpvd8wqeZ0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
The above is a great example of what I'm talking about as well as a good starting point for my next cooking show drinking game, "The (not so) Frugal Drinking Game." I'll add some more good clips at the end (I've been bored recently) but here are the rules which you can mix and match at your discretion, but don't try too many at once:<br />
<br />
1) 1 drink for every time he can't find an ingredient or utensil.<br />
2) 1 drink for every time he clangs the cookwear obnoxiously loud.<br />
3) 1 drink for every time he starts but fails to finish a sentence.<br />
4) 2 drinks for every time he burns himself.<br />
5) 2 drinks for every time he shows you previously prepared food, but forgets to inform you how to make it.<br />
6) 3 drinks for every time he does the opposite of what he talks about.<br />
7) 3 drinks for every time he declares his own food that he's just prepared to be "awful."<br />
8) 4 drinks for every time he tells you to count to an irrelevant number to properly time the cooking of your food.<br />
9) 4 drinks for every time he implores you to buy something that "costs a fortune."<br />
10) 5 drinks for every time he shows you food he hasn't previously discussed.<br />
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Feel free to play with the rules or add your own, but be prepared to start giving your children Adderall at every meal to avoid turning out like this man.<br />
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And as promised, here are some more clips to play with, and as always, my lips to yours.<br />
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Here, the Frugal Gourmet discusses how we need to eat LESS beef and cooks several pounds of BRISKET!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/3DLQ26zl19g?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Here, ol' Jeff shows you how to cook that classic <i>FRENCH</i> dish, "Sauerkraut and Weenies!" <i>C'est magnifique, non? </i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/3RxmTZAUVXw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Here, the nutty old coot dishes on Biafra!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hKnIFO2FKBQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-71225824787676179282011-12-14T15:03:00.002-05:002011-12-14T15:29:27.272-05:00Not to Beat a Dead Horse but...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">... I just wanted to follow up on my last post. The "Meet Me" function at plentyoffish.com, as I previously noted, is intended to "dramatically improve" my dating matches. Last time, we took a look at the very first person about whom they offered me the question, "do you want to meet her?" <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/12/meet-me-at-plentyoffish.html">Didn't turn out so hot. </a><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Now the relationship wizards at the finest dating site zero dollars can buy a subscription to have alerted me that someone out there (and by "out there" I mean in a DIFFERENT F-ING STATE) saw a certain someone's profile, checked the "Yes" box next to that certain someone's name, and wants to meet yours truly! Well that sure didn't take long, plentyoffish.com! Let's see who the lucky, inquisitive lil' hottie is, shall we?</div><div><br />
</div><div>JACKPOT!</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycEcIa5Z4NYNg9YvLX-nkohCuuBXfjz6eaic4SXqE8Hxei-UlObAYyhVGAG4nX1ne_P6Bw8YVgoaHh0GKGKQTGyV-tqljn6iyrRrciut8y5B21ox2foz4sV-9yXVMcCvuDcL7-r4ofj1J/s1600/blueeyes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycEcIa5Z4NYNg9YvLX-nkohCuuBXfjz6eaic4SXqE8Hxei-UlObAYyhVGAG4nX1ne_P6Bw8YVgoaHh0GKGKQTGyV-tqljn6iyrRrciut8y5B21ox2foz4sV-9yXVMcCvuDcL7-r4ofj1J/s320/blueeyes.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue eyes, butterflies and Bingo-wings: these are a few of my favorite things!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Blue___2010 is a buxom out of towner who wants to get to know me, of all people. ME! Well it's good that one of the two things she lists as her interests is "texting," because we'll need good texting skills being that we live NOWHERE NEAR EACH OTHER. Plentyoffish.com has this dating thing down to a science, don't they? </div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, gentle readers, I am sure you are wondering, what could this lovely, vivacious, young debutante possibly list as her <i>other</i> interest? I mean, she digs texting, what else could there possibly be? Well take one good look at the picture above and I'll bet you'll figure it out on your own. Got it yet? That's right! It's "going to the gym!" And as you can see, it's working! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Now that I know she's both interesting AND fit, I'm more inclined to start a long distance relationship. Let's see how she describes herself, shall we? She lists her body type as "a few extra pounds," but honestly, you can barely tell. She says she's "a fun loving country girl" and the mother of a five year old boy. She likes swimming, bowling, and cookouts, and she can't stand liars. An avid Steeler's fan, she says she is also "working on my figure." If she works any harder she might explode! You know, from all the exercise. </div><div><br />
</div><div>However she is not looking for someone who "plays games," which for me, is kind of a deal breaker. I love playing games. Games like, "Go for a Walk Once in Your Life" and "Put the Goddam Cheeseburger Down." Sorry, Blue___2010. I guess I'm a bit too playful for you. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My lips to yours.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-71569636602313998692011-12-01T12:50:00.006-05:002011-12-05T19:58:51.017-05:00"Meet Me" at Plentyoffish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Please do not read too much into the title of this post. I am not asking anyone to go to <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/plentyoffish-saga-continues.html">our favorite dating website</a> so that we can meet and get a deeper understanding of why you <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/06/things-they-love-at-plentyoffishcom.html">list tattoos, football and huffing freon as the things you love,</a> but fail to mention any of your nine children.<br />
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No, gentle readers, I am here today to inform you of a new feature at <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/more-matches-from-plentyoffishcom.html">plentyoffish.com</a> called "Meet Me," which they contend will <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/05/plentyoffish-why-me.html">"dramatically improve your matches."</a> I think my readership (all six of you) knows me well enough to know that when plentyoffish.com says that there is a way to "dramatically improve" my matches that I just won't be able to help myself. And so I click on...<br />
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And I know this is mean. I shouldn't use <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-top-matches-from-plentyoffishcom.html">people's real pictures</a>. But I have to. I just have to. Out of my desire to "dramatically improve" my matches, I clicked the "Meet Me" button for the very first time and this sultry young vixen's picture pops up.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsC6U80JtTQ6-L-xBSFPEXqvddUuBzkfF_JzJfEmtVMh4n3xCJxJg_6TuIkQQgfU6Bo7ShY7xJziNW3Iiia9ZwyMP4dpu5o8r-6Vx7fDv75IZLppCOV0Ndiaq3x21hPH4ymKoAUl9cadb4/s1600/sadandlonely.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsC6U80JtTQ6-L-xBSFPEXqvddUuBzkfF_JzJfEmtVMh4n3xCJxJg_6TuIkQQgfU6Bo7ShY7xJziNW3Iiia9ZwyMP4dpu5o8r-6Vx7fDv75IZLppCOV0Ndiaq3x21hPH4ymKoAUl9cadb4/s320/sadandlonely.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I could be wrong, but I think she lives in the shed behind her in this picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Above her picture is a caption which, presumably, she herself has written. It is a three-word caption which reads (I swear, I am not making this up) "sad and lonely."<br />
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THANK YOU, PLENTYOFFFISH.COM! Thank you for dramatically improving my matches! What a big step up from the witches, ogres and hags you typically offer me as potential girlfriend material! Way to go!<br />
<br />
At this point, plentyoffish.com offers me several choices. At the top of the page, they ask, "Do You Want to Meet Her?" And then, because the subtle art of dating has not progressed one iota since I was in middle school, they offer three boxes I can click on. They read, "Yes," "No," and "Maybe." As I can't actually bring myself to click on one of these and alert the winner of the 1978 Miss Test Tube Mishap contest as to whether or not I want to meet her, I look for other options and find that I can choose to view her profile. As I am finishing this paragraph I have yet to click on that option so that I can bring you, gentle reader, along with me on what is likely to be an enlightening adventure.<br />
<br />
Here we go.<br />
<br />
There isn't much I can see without being an "upgraded member" at plentyoffish.com, but what I can see is, well, unsettling. She's 33, likes hiking, bowling, baseball and country music. So far so good, but she then goes on to describe herself in her "About Me" section. Again, I swear that this is an actual quote (name changed).<br />
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"Hi my name is Allison.<br />
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I have been hurt so many times, I have been stabbed and lied to. I am looking for friendship and see where it goes."<br />
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May I confide in you, gentle readers? I totally have a thing for stab wounds. They really rev my engines.<br />
<br />
WHAT THE HOLY LIVING SHIT!!!??? I've seen people on dating websites mention that they've been hurt in relationships before. Ok, fair enough, but STABBED? And the fact that "stabbed" is in such close proximity to "lied to" in that sentence, it seems that she equates the two. As if, "no, baby, I was just out having a few drinks with the boys" and "steak knife to the trapezius" are pretty much the same thing.<br />
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And I am not one to make light of domestic violence, I'm really not. If she was indeed stabbed, that's a horrible thing. But why on God's Blue Orb would you put that information on a dating website? I mean, I've had some bad dates before. (Did I tell you the one where I shit my pants getting into the car on a date and had to drive 4 miles before dropping her off at a store and had to go to a Subway restaurant bathroom, discard my underpants, throw my khakis in a dumpster and change into a pair of jeans I'd clairvoyantly left in the backseat of my car before rejoining my date at the store? Yep. That happened.) But I rather conveniently choose not to share it with potential romantic interests.<br />
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Perhaps I should, though. Perhaps it would dramatically improve the chances of some lucky lady out there, hoping to reel in one hell of a catch.<br />
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My lips to yours.<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-47210654696761629062011-10-19T17:45:00.000-04:002011-10-19T17:45:06.514-04:00Just Like That<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1U3As8kSwu20BbzumEvd5W9gFQylFa1uKPQV-jkUd3D95TDeq-klJJJJrqhPsiGDLInfxgtoaVZTWkFX0HkFkCQIWDm01Ut5lPFahqs19xFAerm8Rnpj4HEoCFqm-arK6b847kJYTTXdd/s1600/giadaathome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1U3As8kSwu20BbzumEvd5W9gFQylFa1uKPQV-jkUd3D95TDeq-klJJJJrqhPsiGDLInfxgtoaVZTWkFX0HkFkCQIWDm01Ut5lPFahqs19xFAerm8Rnpj4HEoCFqm-arK6b847kJYTTXdd/s320/giadaathome.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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This post is dedicated to the best Italian boobs in the business and the freakishly large head that perches above them.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhaVUafZOA7wdY3c7S3AUOX3nWux1-lDMM7mg-TRfdhUFJZh3YuNHy-QBHA7FrrLqv558zi7q8d0mX5PlXLKm4rGUm_tMXJCe_kx5muhWDcdB7R3YjI1XFZd0NnvCeFAzlERqSuTrZANH/s1600/giada-tomatoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhaVUafZOA7wdY3c7S3AUOX3nWux1-lDMM7mg-TRfdhUFJZh3YuNHy-QBHA7FrrLqv558zi7q8d0mX5PlXLKm4rGUm_tMXJCe_kx5muhWDcdB7R3YjI1XFZd0NnvCeFAzlERqSuTrZANH/s1600/giada-tomatoes.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Name: Giada de Laurentiis (pronounced DEE-lar-en-tees, unless Giada herself is saying it, in which case it probably sounds more like deh-laurlllerrelleelerr-en-teahhhhhhseehh).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR4DG7BQdAzy-GgkP5TSBox5ESOAEAKEKOpeHFPmZEt8WH9Ucv_35mu2s9N_nyTyyJ_F1qei8nHxnR3LZqsbR9AQdP2z_es1LLBE6iIphEqmPLX-lAzo7p94-KzR-PBZ1k-JAWqob-tSm/s1600/giada-workinit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR4DG7BQdAzy-GgkP5TSBox5ESOAEAKEKOpeHFPmZEt8WH9Ucv_35mu2s9N_nyTyyJ_F1qei8nHxnR3LZqsbR9AQdP2z_es1LLBE6iIphEqmPLX-lAzo7p94-KzR-PBZ1k-JAWqob-tSm/s320/giada-workinit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Age: Old enough to know how to "work it" and be slightly terrifying at the same time.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq9hg2QBZ2gsdRZM1BNoGY1TyDRsSIfOgYXSswyCS63OgevrfXkaWF0pCyT-3Wx5xEdEMpEAajxOpuMc4ZU-4U-l4g-aAI2hvKi7mfVGoPvKoKi6IJleqmKNGCCt3mfXmB1FC9KkzeS8_/s1600/giada-dish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq9hg2QBZ2gsdRZM1BNoGY1TyDRsSIfOgYXSswyCS63OgevrfXkaWF0pCyT-3Wx5xEdEMpEAajxOpuMc4ZU-4U-l4g-aAI2hvKi7mfVGoPvKoKi6IJleqmKNGCCt3mfXmB1FC9KkzeS8_/s320/giada-dish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature dish: Fresh Pasta Rollatini with Spinach and Ricotta. She only likes this dish because it takes her an hour and a half to pronounce it in her bullshit Italian accent.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFuzw2hwS1hkR5jglJci9hVcWNtLOLxMFXQsBICH93cO0epFd3SYjlcL9KQp9O5LQdT_c_j_wgkE6Fc4w_RId5QFF8QYZHKXbWgNLWIzWPlAC2EvkpQbeul2ORy3ALr8Vbu1vq4jJlNG1t/s1600/italyfoodWP070403_450x337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFuzw2hwS1hkR5jglJci9hVcWNtLOLxMFXQsBICH93cO0epFd3SYjlcL9KQp9O5LQdT_c_j_wgkE6Fc4w_RId5QFF8QYZHKXbWgNLWIzWPlAC2EvkpQbeul2ORy3ALr8Vbu1vq4jJlNG1t/s320/italyfoodWP070403_450x337.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Favorite ingredients: Anything she can get away with over-enunciating.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagg4pPMCfASQ945FZpz3UgbikLWLYixp2SPOhRIOkLUvrW-tCi_fTG89lymRt0Xqx3-ftVAPF4HlyPGStTIbtyqMAY_KVZKdDmkpMqq56NuzSjrPg4zGXbTochab_NCLc_lG7KpEMvlJ8/s1600/megamind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagg4pPMCfASQ945FZpz3UgbikLWLYixp2SPOhRIOkLUvrW-tCi_fTG89lymRt0Xqx3-ftVAPF4HlyPGStTIbtyqMAY_KVZKdDmkpMqq56NuzSjrPg4zGXbTochab_NCLc_lG7KpEMvlJ8/s320/megamind.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Head size she emulates: Megamind<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbT2094-WxELjMAAVaDpPIBPcSgyMkBfmhQyhxPioUPWKZKHr6FzdO_wPW4GsNI9groIXWf2NHrHj2WaJKkzQ8UvasCojDKkFz6SSPXsXCQyLHpdNQE0jaHT2mmt7u3JEUOArUXsqX0vz/s1600/giadascary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbT2094-WxELjMAAVaDpPIBPcSgyMkBfmhQyhxPioUPWKZKHr6FzdO_wPW4GsNI9groIXWf2NHrHj2WaJKkzQ8UvasCojDKkFz6SSPXsXCQyLHpdNQE0jaHT2mmt7u3JEUOArUXsqX0vz/s320/giadascary.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
Favorite animal: The great white shark. Wait...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqWRgYBUnU856D-dIqDOZWkk7qGPL_o6A1zGq6iqxRtSidnfalI_uk8sqOruKiU2Yz-aWlRTfSKEDrAmyXFkGYfBLohLmR7xOu0C5bjfNo_3t4HAo53BGaC51j6TZLEwn1zg_S59s5Lv5/s1600/giadashark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqWRgYBUnU856D-dIqDOZWkk7qGPL_o6A1zGq6iqxRtSidnfalI_uk8sqOruKiU2Yz-aWlRTfSKEDrAmyXFkGYfBLohLmR7xOu0C5bjfNo_3t4HAo53BGaC51j6TZLEwn1zg_S59s5Lv5/s320/giadashark.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br />
...Oh there it is. Sometimes I can't tell them apart.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDD6viw9ElXqJ4fXhB5FjyQ9Hclke8NbhQxuq1jby5foXYhsOnCAYPN2KJT4ly5sXPi0xxhIARBUXL1_MpaelO3yPmeXw1JmGdLtogwfO_ajzjpzStS8CsuKFyprpW3kZvqqXYlVvnLors/s1600/giadadrink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDD6viw9ElXqJ4fXhB5FjyQ9Hclke8NbhQxuq1jby5foXYhsOnCAYPN2KJT4ly5sXPi0xxhIARBUXL1_MpaelO3yPmeXw1JmGdLtogwfO_ajzjpzStS8CsuKFyprpW3kZvqqXYlVvnLors/s320/giadadrink.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature cocktail: Whatever this is, it doesn't have nearly enough rohypnol to put me at ease around this woman.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymN5YXvlW4QeLq9jMBkiRmVGJ5QyAPaqJwChO75r-xyb_BPnDKKrP1VdaAAezEGuXDxnx_vEphHV-sr7uygqwQx-SiHkCRdD0a1ZGC4rVkLsbhg5I-hBIqBWWMwZo2Sop3dPY0gaRqQu4/s1600/lemon+zest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymN5YXvlW4QeLq9jMBkiRmVGJ5QyAPaqJwChO75r-xyb_BPnDKKrP1VdaAAezEGuXDxnx_vEphHV-sr7uygqwQx-SiHkCRdD0a1ZGC4rVkLsbhg5I-hBIqBWWMwZo2Sop3dPY0gaRqQu4/s320/lemon+zest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Signature cooking technique: Adding lemon zest to ANYTHING. If she goes to a baseball game, Giada will put lemon zest on her hot dogs and crackerjacks.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKuWRy7ZsrETxSeNvThwTBHyZeD3jFQ5dqRXfpzAtGUphnPitBC12pl-qnhaHLaETIpWQuPumyn3VjKW6ejGvr5B4rEjRbLuXQtpipOhXukeouwIyVMIPoCoX64o3tMmLsu5vPRX4aBjVG/s1600/giada+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKuWRy7ZsrETxSeNvThwTBHyZeD3jFQ5dqRXfpzAtGUphnPitBC12pl-qnhaHLaETIpWQuPumyn3VjKW6ejGvr5B4rEjRbLuXQtpipOhXukeouwIyVMIPoCoX64o3tMmLsu5vPRX4aBjVG/s320/giada+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwD2-5sAlemBL3J2bG2QqWgbSWEYxAeAZjcXmV_TCfZBHjqJ58yno17B0CBdNN9iShzGPcCZZHoSbpgNf0vGheMwWxttkCARbkWDCVSOujqGyum1kPB3IAMAn0qquy1d8El690okUxAY-e/s1600/giada_de_laurentiis_john_huba_photoshoot_1-475x712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwD2-5sAlemBL3J2bG2QqWgbSWEYxAeAZjcXmV_TCfZBHjqJ58yno17B0CBdNN9iShzGPcCZZHoSbpgNf0vGheMwWxttkCARbkWDCVSOujqGyum1kPB3IAMAn0qquy1d8El690okUxAY-e/s320/giada_de_laurentiis_john_huba_photoshoot_1-475x712.jpg" width="229" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Most difficult part about watching her show: Trying to decide if this woman frightens me or turns me on and realizing that these two things might not be mutually exclusive. Paging Dr. Freud!<br />
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If you're wondering about the title to this post, watch an episode of her show and take a sip of beer every time she says the phrase, "just like that," while demonstrating how to, say, add salt to a bowl, then see if you can walk straight after 30 minutes. Five bucks says you can't.<br />
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My lips to yours<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-27458098857051007902011-08-24T13:58:00.002-04:002011-12-01T15:08:55.093-05:00Plentyoffish: They're at it again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm back, gentle readers. I morbidly peered at my plentyoffish.com profile today and took a good, hard look at the beautiful, interesting women who had clicked on me as they cast their proverbial lines into the murky waters of internet dating. Let's see if I should take the bait, shall we?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Here's Zi***ra, the last lady to view my profile. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZG009MnM4JMR_iHh9DRr6TwSgdMZLC5QnSuP8-8OwnNmh2iHdLsh4GSc6h5SIk0oyiCv2oU5FhDcSFs7ZOrA3ifSTda7i2_MEkNBCd6RskricW4FptDkTvtLLZPz6egbMT2GOd4G7N1Y/s1600/white-fish-wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #999999; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZG009MnM4JMR_iHh9DRr6TwSgdMZLC5QnSuP8-8OwnNmh2iHdLsh4GSc6h5SIk0oyiCv2oU5FhDcSFs7ZOrA3ifSTda7i2_MEkNBCd6RskricW4FptDkTvtLLZPz6egbMT2GOd4G7N1Y/s320/white-fish-wallpaper.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">White's Only! Never mind that I'm Hispanic!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">And here, more literally, is what she has to say about herself (this is verbatim):</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 27px;"><i>MY NAME IS ZI***RA AND I AM 30 YEARS OLD I AM VERY FUNNY AND I LIKE TO GO TO THE GYM AND I LIKE TO COOK AND I LIKE UpTO RUN ..AND I WOULD LIKE TO FIND MY ANOTHER HALF FOREVER AND HAVE ONE BEAUTIFUL FAMILY. Is hard find a good guy who really wants a honestly lady here!!!!!! .. IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE SERIOUS ?? I AM HERE LOOKING FOR THE SAME !! I like caucasian guys.....hope find you</i></span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Note the interesting use of MOSt CAPS. Really adds a nice zest to her profile. Fortunately for me, I'm white! Unfortunately for her, I don't want "one beautiful family." I'd prefer like, 7 or 8 ugly families. Time to head into deeper waters.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">K**86's profile is too long to fit into this post and her boobs are too large to fit into a single picture. But here are snippets of both. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZZKKLGW2kEkHRwl-ADhITV-oXoiCndGLb9YywCMGge79qqaNjaoQcGS_Noi70qfoj88qF1ZHRcBVsjQ_tzkZ0CwmooX7D3HvfiL6Sp-mFJebu1s5EwfiuGSZItkusl1y5-BmtRZa0Kec/s1600/boobs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZZKKLGW2kEkHRwl-ADhITV-oXoiCndGLb9YywCMGge79qqaNjaoQcGS_Noi70qfoj88qF1ZHRcBVsjQ_tzkZ0CwmooX7D3HvfiL6Sp-mFJebu1s5EwfiuGSZItkusl1y5-BmtRZa0Kec/s320/boobs.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">There are many things you can't tell about me just from seeing my boobs.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Here are some things K**86 lists as <i>"general things"</i> about her. Her profession is <i>"Johns hopkins"</i> (yet another random capitalizer) and she is working towards her Associates degree from Harford County Community College. She continues, <i>"I am a huge football, and hockey fan!"</i> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Though I'm not usually interested in dating footballs, I am intrigued by really large footballs who love hockey so I read on in a section weirdly labeled, <i>"A few things you probably couldn't tell by looking at me."</i> It's almost as if (from reading her "general things" section) at one glance you would immediately know that she Johns hopkinses for a living. But here are some of those things you apparently couldn't gather from looking this huge football or her huge boobs:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i>"I love tattoos! I have 4 of my own!"</i> Is it just me, or is this the ONE thing you COULD tell by looking at you, K**86? Oh well, I won't quibble. I'm not much of a quibbler. Go on.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><i>"Music is my world! I'm mostly a alternative kind of girl but I pretty much listen to everything." </i>Excellent! I'd love a alternative girl who listens to everything! I've got some German-Turkish Polka, Himalayan scream singing, and a 14-hour long boxed set of</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> fat people sitting on pies! We could put that on at dinner then slow dance to it until the sun comes up. Mmm, mmm.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><i>"I am extremely close to my parents, as well as my family." </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Sorry? In addition to being close to your parents, you are also close to your family? Too bad, my sweet, large-breasted football. I refuse to date someone who doesn't recognize their parents as "family," no matter how close you are to them. I shall look elsewhere.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Sistermozart**** also viewed my profile recently.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ma_tvjp1fRNzF6tC_taYepcTdsfv8sxUZ0DDJV5EoZOh77VEAXXu-VjZD0bPxKcmz9-DR3Xsn0X3k-8u_YIPmLJVB_uJzKABPWLPhrpITDqQpMJXOUHFK9EcNJC3fw-qUyAirdzUZ0UL/s1600/round_fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ma_tvjp1fRNzF6tC_taYepcTdsfv8sxUZ0DDJV5EoZOh77VEAXXu-VjZD0bPxKcmz9-DR3Xsn0X3k-8u_YIPmLJVB_uJzKABPWLPhrpITDqQpMJXOUHFK9EcNJC3fw-qUyAirdzUZ0UL/s1600/round_fish.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">I look about average, right?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">She is 5'0", perfectly round, lists her body type as "<i>average</i>" and enjoys <i>"photography quilting."</i> I was going to make fun of her for her grammatical gaffe, but I read on to find out that<i> "I also combine photography and quilting together to make my own very special quilts." </i>It makes me wonder if she also combines cooking with ritual pagan animal slaughter and I am suddenly very afraid. VERY afraid.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">And so I will swim on, gentle readers, and find murkier waters with more fun, colorful fish. <iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0056UOUC8&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Until then, my lips to yours.</span></span><br />
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</span></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-31150559473227051942011-07-18T14:05:00.001-04:002011-07-18T16:40:37.251-04:00Half Asleep in the Kitchen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This post is dedicated to Ambien addicts everywhere.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7e3oKYbl7pAlGE6J5WTdZKtjCio91Pc3qDv8NF-g2owP-OYTUWvgpHtgNS13r-8z07GC15AbMbBq9b_acJwfkXK1dtewwBQfAy-TyhHJWU5KjQNTMTbYH36xMMMjHHGLnrXpA6oKOYZA/s1600/barefoot-contessa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7e3oKYbl7pAlGE6J5WTdZKtjCio91Pc3qDv8NF-g2owP-OYTUWvgpHtgNS13r-8z07GC15AbMbBq9b_acJwfkXK1dtewwBQfAy-TyhHJWU5KjQNTMTbYH36xMMMjHHGLnrXpA6oKOYZA/s320/barefoot-contessa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Name: Ina Garten. AKA, "The Barefoot Contessa." She might be royalty in the Hamptons, but let's face it, NO ONE wants to see her feet.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKs02tJormpynRbatlEzO3Y5UF7HAZD1L68ojk-FfWO6sfEVeXCcIkrxF3f7MCbZbd4twc-9t_KPMdDO3c6Mud1lPz9FmgJoBt18SgIcrLhtzFoyRwQSru7pJR-gHJfUidAVJ7s0MX5co/s1600/18cook.1.600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKs02tJormpynRbatlEzO3Y5UF7HAZD1L68ojk-FfWO6sfEVeXCcIkrxF3f7MCbZbd4twc-9t_KPMdDO3c6Mud1lPz9FmgJoBt18SgIcrLhtzFoyRwQSru7pJR-gHJfUidAVJ7s0MX5co/s320/18cook.1.600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Age: Too old for popped collars, that's for sure.<br />
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Favorite Ingredient: GOOOOOD Vanilla, and lots of it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CArT-HDX5WU_h1jRrmh5dINgpTgCB1jRO4VaYe7NTVGK5mwEMyEVg4ZyA2E-B1Xbtphoy2tBj1bgvABdR6onhADOFOQ-o-lm_S77Bsdk7HDvYSTfq7l0_vvL63xvP9Dp9ucWj20HzugQ/s1600/measuring_spoons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CArT-HDX5WU_h1jRrmh5dINgpTgCB1jRO4VaYe7NTVGK5mwEMyEVg4ZyA2E-B1Xbtphoy2tBj1bgvABdR6onhADOFOQ-o-lm_S77Bsdk7HDvYSTfq7l0_vvL63xvP9Dp9ucWj20HzugQ/s1600/measuring_spoons.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Favorite Food Network Revolution: Actually MEASURING her ingredients!!!<br />
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Activity Anyone Would LEAST Like to Engage in with Ina Garten: Attending one of her insomnia-curing parties!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgsRL6pR_XBZTm-YdguLkRQQDH0dSbYWGKzEgBzmeL_afFcR9c9UQu8FWe3l6-yS9kaK5j-UtcWM70aHyD5nJK2FxXn44rZVmHn6l1_14RAf3PrxK9nzlYJExJ14MHQDRUw3nHGRL0N-O/s1600/Garten_Jeffrey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgsRL6pR_XBZTm-YdguLkRQQDH0dSbYWGKzEgBzmeL_afFcR9c9UQu8FWe3l6-yS9kaK5j-UtcWM70aHyD5nJK2FxXn44rZVmHn6l1_14RAf3PrxK9nzlYJExJ14MHQDRUw3nHGRL0N-O/s1600/Garten_Jeffrey.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The Only Gay Man She Won't Party With: Her husband, Jeffrey.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CdzJXLO0ugDavMxUHxuF8KPqP7HbbRKWQqhTqZ-4E0VvpRB7DrZqam308A-mHsPTM4Ujfjr8NZReg_SchtP2t88hLZ4bZTRpxFzmGtPCYR6umsWt1YbKqM8iPoiw7ef2qJYcpBb9sNdA/s1600/Bearer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CdzJXLO0ugDavMxUHxuF8KPqP7HbbRKWQqhTqZ-4E0VvpRB7DrZqam308A-mHsPTM4Ujfjr8NZReg_SchtP2t88hLZ4bZTRpxFzmGtPCYR6umsWt1YbKqM8iPoiw7ef2qJYcpBb9sNdA/s320/Bearer.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Style She Emulates: Morticians (but with a popped collar for flair).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinioFokf8SvM2z44ajr3s8FiSOBQAp4K39DjVidmzntlLQbUVb4bvxxaAN49mbshAwJdJ4Vylg5I0xYJd1fNnF1SiWejPHkqhNvzmwPHCSyRBaguf69hyphenhyphen-z7iEiq7j-ZAwoZlAChrVr21X/s1600/food-processor-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinioFokf8SvM2z44ajr3s8FiSOBQAp4K39DjVidmzntlLQbUVb4bvxxaAN49mbshAwJdJ4Vylg5I0xYJd1fNnF1SiWejPHkqhNvzmwPHCSyRBaguf69hyphenhyphen-z7iEiq7j-ZAwoZlAChrVr21X/s320/food-processor-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature Cocktail: The only Bloody Mary on Earth that requires the use of a <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/bloody-mary-recipe/index.html">FOOD PROCESSOR!</a><br />
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<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B000FHQJ6C&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
My lips to yours!Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-91709690773593163252011-06-22T16:38:00.001-04:002011-06-22T16:43:34.515-04:00Stats and Such<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-8bzYdFyujad128pAt1NOyAMJkLCRaOTV_gDdqWqo0XCzF3w3kN4KppfePi4uTZaj0-PaUW46ShQJ6VnQGzI96nuyWjC8JdZoGZCbi42_WwHKilERfOG1uZ8QDVAoltel1elsO6znoicG/s1600/lloyd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-8bzYdFyujad128pAt1NOyAMJkLCRaOTV_gDdqWqo0XCzF3w3kN4KppfePi4uTZaj0-PaUW46ShQJ6VnQGzI96nuyWjC8JdZoGZCbi42_WwHKilERfOG1uZ8QDVAoltel1elsO6znoicG/s320/lloyd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Back in April, <i>My Lips to Yours! </i>reached it's 1000th page view after existing for about a year. In the past 30 days, it has been visited 1,100 times and I now have over 3000 page views. Pretty cool, huh?<br />
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Since the inception of <i>My Lips to Yours!, </i>my most visited post so far has been the <i><a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/food-network-drinking-game.html">Food Network Drinking</a> <a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/04/food-network-drinking-game.html">Game</a>, </i>followed closely by the first half of my review of <i><a href="http://philbertun.blogspot.com/2011/05/mega-shark-vs-crocosaurus-really-long.html">Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus.</a> </i><br />
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After the United States, the countries that frequent this humble blog the most are: Canada, the UK, Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, Singapore, Russia, France, and Japan.<br />
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<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B004OSVTRW&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>The google searches which most commonly lead readers to my blog are: "giada de laurentiis husband," "food network italian," "food network hosts," "kickball team names," and "aviator car."<br />
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I have earned $2.06 from 2 people clicking ads on my blog. It would be really sweet if you and your friends clicked the ads either in the blogs themselves (like this one for ESPN's really awesome series, <i>30 for 30</i>) or the one on the side bar to your right.<br />
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Start clicking, gentle readers. And as always...<br />
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My lips to yours.<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-17825362994843599682011-06-14T15:15:00.000-04:002011-06-14T15:15:31.715-04:00The Things They Love at Plentyoffish.com<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I'm back, gentle readers, I'm back. And once again it is time to delve into the self-descriptions of the lovelorn ladies at Plentyoffish.com. One of my favorite things about reading the profiles of these oh-so-desirable women is the seemingly endless list of things they profess to love in this crazy, mixed-up world. Let's take a peek at the things that enrapture the hearts of these overly hopeful fishers of men.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHhHNlNqLfVPkiMJp0-nXMFM62LCLJykbg1cRVYF3kD6cCaTQVRAJuQRiH2-_uLqY-QJCoT4DBtVrCdFrbUJDPAZaZBPuDc_MaEHj0uC6PmaGvYqn4jdkOD8Rt7tl0K-4KjmyKCvQ2JE4/s1600/boredfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHhHNlNqLfVPkiMJp0-nXMFM62LCLJykbg1cRVYF3kD6cCaTQVRAJuQRiH2-_uLqY-QJCoT4DBtVrCdFrbUJDPAZaZBPuDc_MaEHj0uC6PmaGvYqn4jdkOD8Rt7tl0K-4KjmyKCvQ2JE4/s320/boredfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Jackie_______281 </i>is pretty much the standard when it comes to stating blatantly obvious things to love: laughing, spending time with friends, music (all kinds!), and animals (especially dogs). This information is extremely useful to guys who really wanted to weed out all those extremely morose girls who love crying, staying away from friends, hearing music of any kind and who like being mean to household pets.<br />
The only thing she's missing from her "lovelist" that's common amongst plentyofffishers is "loving life." I always hate it when they say that because I'm typically only interested in dating dead women.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdZZER2wKUrEVStkRHHN8NfTftcJ2tnLQ9ZFg50b0re4lUPT84AtBjgvCMXlxwsZ6LVSOGDWzV3bTQJJBazmcWYroBNZfQpEOSc2UXimw91HAqbTVhRx0IFsZ3CXZBs4hHUW2cP0-PT4e/s1600/motorcyclefish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdZZER2wKUrEVStkRHHN8NfTftcJ2tnLQ9ZFg50b0re4lUPT84AtBjgvCMXlxwsZ6LVSOGDWzV3bTQJJBazmcWYroBNZfQpEOSc2UXimw91HAqbTVhRx0IFsZ3CXZBs4hHUW2cP0-PT4e/s320/motorcyclefish.jpg" width="203" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My children are hungry, but I need to RIDE!</td></tr>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B003UESJMO&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>Cap_____08 </i>offers a rather arbitrary list of things she loves, which alarmingly does not include her three children. However, "motorcycles, tattoos, dancing, football, hockey, beaches, boats, jet skis, hanging out with friends" and "taking pics" make her love-list. I wonder what things are like at <i style="font-weight: bold;">Cap_____08</i>'s house...<br />
"Mommy, can we go to the library today?"<br />
"You can shut the hell up while Mommy gets a new tattoo today, that's what you can do!"<br />
"But Mommy, we need to learn how to read!"<br />
"You don't need to know how to read to have awesome tattoos and ride jet skis! Now get back in your cage, the hockey game is on!"<br />
Just sets your heart a-twitter, doesn't it?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmx9Ze9-dNoNn5Y_i6viQ31olh5WHzrJjeCp8nXve19H48Oawnzj0_pvCQqzMNPzd7_5kpTpkKBFaqNRnX6aZHV2t-KvJQDDNtvl-gidV-JGE-JwxVJTPSbFoJLS_gopGI9DN01V-q35RJ/s1600/surprised-fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmx9Ze9-dNoNn5Y_i6viQ31olh5WHzrJjeCp8nXve19H48Oawnzj0_pvCQqzMNPzd7_5kpTpkKBFaqNRnX6aZHV2t-KvJQDDNtvl-gidV-JGE-JwxVJTPSbFoJLS_gopGI9DN01V-q35RJ/s320/surprised-fish.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surprise! I'm boring!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Based on what she claims to love (working out and belonging to XSport Fitness) and her profile pictures, you'll be perfectly happy when <i style="font-weight: bold;">Tar_________2011 </i>finally tells you she loves you. That is, if your definition of "love" is something more akin to "extreme neglect." She also loves college basketball, watching movies and watching the same movies over and over. Judging by her pictures, she loves watching basketball and movies a LOT more than she loves belonging to a gym.<br />
She also loves working in her yard, the smell of freshly cut grass and surprises.<br />
Surprise, <b><i>Tar_________2011</i></b>! I fell asleep reading your profile!<br />
<br />
My lips to yours. I love saying that.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-65149246169125941972011-06-01T12:23:00.004-04:002011-06-02T01:40:40.974-04:00Ten Steps for Writers Trying to Get Published for the First Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxomwulJFSYXSp04hrxh3AVv-jSqmohhgS6XWdMTY5kAztpJmj40WGv0IEPwLknpvLyEfk5ga4xDA9bsiDGH9WA5yF704iGvIRBKocZkiFhaYg9oa2bJ6R17_dmsKwcXdHVAFs-BUtbD5i/s1600/HowIGotPublished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxomwulJFSYXSp04hrxh3AVv-jSqmohhgS6XWdMTY5kAztpJmj40WGv0IEPwLknpvLyEfk5ga4xDA9bsiDGH9WA5yF704iGvIRBKocZkiFhaYg9oa2bJ6R17_dmsKwcXdHVAFs-BUtbD5i/s320/HowIGotPublished.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
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</div><div>The most difficult thing about writing is how do you get published when no one knows who you are because you've never been published before? And who wants to read what you've written? The answer is, of course, no one but your mother and she might be jiving, too. But that should not deter you, burgeoning writer, in any way! Because here are all the steps you need to getting published for the first time. Follow these ten simple steps to success and then take my 5 week program for just $800.00. I guarantee I'll make more money if you do. <iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B004HFS6Z0&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe></div><div><br />
</div><div>Step 1: ALREADY BE PUBLISHED!</div><div>Step 2: Have FAMOUS published works already out there. Step 1 just won't do without Step 2. </div><div>Step 3: Stop writing whatever it is YOU are writing and write something <i>good</i> for once.</div><div>Step 4: Be an international superstar. Adherence to this may seem like you can skip steps 1-3, but you still have to be previously published and stop what you are writing and write something good for a change in order to get published for the first time. </div><div>Step 5: Send in articles to out of your league periodicals such as the <i>New Yorker</i>, <i>The New York Times</i>, or <i>The Fuck You, This is a New York Periodical, Not Some Podunk Rag From San Diego Monthly</i>. Do this so they can laugh at you.</div><div>Step 6: Sell yourself to a publisher. You do this by accomplishing steps 1-5, then writing about it in an engaging way that sounds like you're not bragging but instead, sounds like the earth would start spinning backwards at your written behest. If you are unable to accomplish this, try selling yourself physically. Remember to relax your jaw.</div><div>Step 7: Be sure your manuscript leaps off the publisher's desk. Try attaching small but powerful robotic legs to the bottom of it, so it can literally spring off the desk and into her face. Maybe slip some bandaids in between the pages of your manuscript in case the robotic legs thing goes awry.</div><div>Step 8: Know someone who knows someone way more awesome than you and the person you know combined times 1000. It always helps to get advice from someone who doesn't know you and who slopped into a writing career because they have a spikey haircut or always wear headphones around their necks. They'll tell you what you need to do is to be more awesome and if you can't accomplish that, go out and buy some dope headphones.</div><div>Step 9: Launch a personal blog or website which attracts 40,000,000 people per week who are just fawning over how awesome you are. It should be about something no one has ever heard of before, but everyone now wishes they thought of first, and should include more pictures and video than writing: something like Cat Racecar Drivers or Pigeons with Boxing Gloves.</div><div>Step 10: Maintain a positive outlook. Because there are so many reasons to be positive about trying to become a writer. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My lips to yours.</div><div><br />
</div></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-47467815421371408022011-05-31T11:54:00.002-04:002011-06-20T11:50:18.523-04:00Rubrics<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0041OSQ9S&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Well, gentle reader, the school year is winding down for teachers and students alike and that got me thinking about education in general so I decided to share with you some of my thoughts on the subject by way of a paper I wrote for one of my education courses. I realize this is not my usual, entertaining subject matter, but there are just some days when you can't think of a good poop joke. It's on a topic that really bugs me being that it's an educational standard that I feel is doing a disservice to students. So if you care to, read on, and as always, my lips to yours.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheinDCBWWbNN5KqfUWKbGxCH8drZIr3qkCO69Tsxp1qIjIDetAZJSTuMcv7iFytjSMje_SaUKfh1SK3m1-yah8reqOX10DHXGQSH_3L1ms6ruepAMndm8LRmVmYFjMFAhMr1i8SXbSrcJZ/s1600/climate_writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheinDCBWWbNN5KqfUWKbGxCH8drZIr3qkCO69Tsxp1qIjIDetAZJSTuMcv7iFytjSMje_SaUKfh1SK3m1-yah8reqOX10DHXGQSH_3L1ms6ruepAMndm8LRmVmYFjMFAhMr1i8SXbSrcJZ/s320/climate_writing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">One of the most useful tools in assessment in any discipline, a new teacher is often told, is a well-structured rubric. Rubrics make the job and the life of the teacher easier by saving time in grading, offering clearly defined objectives for students, and removing subjectivity from the assessment process. As author Maja Wilson (2006) notes, rubrics are widely hailed as a “best practice” in education (p. </span><span style="text-decoration: none;">xxi</span><span style="text-decoration: none;">). But are they the best practice for teaching students to be creative? Are they the best practice for engaging multiple intelligences and encouraging students to undergo meaningful, thoughtful, exploration of a given topic? The answer, particularly in writing, is no.</span></i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> The main problem with the idea of rubrics is that their value is placed in standardizing student writing or more accurately, in the act of standardizing itself. Alfie Kohn (2006) notes that standardizing is admirable in the realm of manufactured goods such as electronics, but does little or nothing to assess a student's comprehension of ideas. Rubrics, he argues, standardize not only student output in writing but also teacher assessment of writing assignments. By removing the inherent human subjectivity in assessing writing, teachers are turned into “grading machines,” not taking into account the overall quality of a writing assignment, but rather only the sum of its parts. </i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> Students, therefore, tend not to produce their most innovative material in writing assignments, ensuring, rather, that the checklists of the rubric, which often place as much or more emphasis on objective portions (spelling, grammar, formatting, etc.) than they do the quality of ideas presented, are met. Kohn cites a work by Linda Mabry whose research concluded that as a result, students who adhered to rubrics achieved higher scores, yet produced “more vacuous writing” (as cited in Kohn, 2006). The obvious inference here is that educators are now placing more emphasis on giving students as large of a probability of achieving a good grade as possible, without regard to the actual quality of the written work. </i></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> So if student writing has less quality when following the guidelines of a rubric, why then do educators hold them so dearly as useful educational tools? Wilson suggests that rubrics are alluring because they simplify and objectify that which is complex and subjective. Any English teacher has been though the messy debate of how to assign a grade to something that another teacher could read and grade quite differently, which therefore makes a subjective assignment much more difficult. Rubrics help to solve this issue. In addition, they neaten, for students, the messy task of writing and give organized guidelines to help them through it (2006). Kohn believes them to be a handy tool in justifying grades to parents (2006). </i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> But perhaps the most enticing aspect of the rubric is that it helps to ensure conformity in the classroom; rubrics help teachers teach the same thing the same way to every student. This is the model of American education, one that Sir Kenneth Robinson describes as a “fast food” model (2010). This model of education standardizes the type and quality of education that each student will receive and how they will be assessed. However, Robinson argues that this is an outdated and overall useless model. It is based, he argues, on conformity and linearity and fails to cultivate creativity, passion and innovation in students (2010). </i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> Robinson's solution to the current educational model, is to move away from a model based on (as Kohn also noted) industry and manufacturing, and move to an agricultural model (2010). Teachers of writing should therefore not be handing out an instruction manual for how to write a good, creative paper. To paraphrase Robinson, writing, after all, “is not a mechanical process, it is an organic process” and teachers need to instead of being the manufacturers of quality writing, creativity and innovation, be the “farmers” who cultivate it and provide the conditions around which these things can flourish (2010).</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> The first time I had ever heard (or remember hearing) the word, rubric, was my first year of teaching English. I had given a descriptive writing assignment which we had been discussing and practicing in class for a week. After giving the assignment, a student asked me when they'd be getting the rubric. It was a nearly automatic response from the student, suggesting that he had gotten used to using rubrics for all or nearly all of his academic career. I, obviously, was not. I had to look up “rubric” in the dictionary. </i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> I was therefore somewhat opposed to the idea of rubrics in the beginning of my teaching career. However, the administration, in order to better be able to explain grades given on papers to parents (a struggle I endured numerous times my first year) “strongly encouraged” my compliance in using them. To my delight, I found that rubrics made my life easier. I stopped having the parent objections to my grades as much. Students generally had better scores on their papers. Grading was much faster and more efficient. However, I rarely received truly excellent writing from my students, the kind that blew me away my first year when I was astonished at how talented some of the students really were. </i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> I realized that this is because I took away the exploratory part of writing from them. I recall one student who had been struggling with an assignment. I worked with her for a few days on it, finally writing down an outline for her and asking her to follow it. She tried, but she couldn't make the paper fit. She went home, threw out my suggestions and wrote the paper on her own, and it turned out to be much better than the suggestions I had given her. I honestly believe it's because she had to fight through it, and figure out the mystery of writing on her own.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> And this to me is why we use rubrics. They're easy. They make the student's life easy. They don't have to struggle anymore. Teachers don't have to struggle anymore. And with students receiving good grades, parents obviously believe that their children are good writers. And everyone is happy. Except me. And I know how in the minority I am when it comes to my stance on rubrics.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> It's hard to argue with better grades. Better grades mean more finely honed skills, and a larger talent pool. They mean more successful schools, and a higher likelihood of students going to college and being successful there and/or in their professional lives. But I disagree. We are giving grades now to that which is quantifiable, and looking less at that which is subjective. Better grades to me now mean “more able to meet checklists” than “innovative” or “creative, thought-provoking writer.” </i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"> With respect to my professor, I would like to look at the rubric for the assignment in which I am currently engaged. Out of a possible 120 points, only 30 points are dedicated to the actual content of the paper, i.e. the depth of thought presented. The rest is dedicated to the mundane: 30 points for </span><span style="text-decoration: none;">having included a summary of the research, 10 points respectively for mechanics and format, and the rest for </span><span style="text-decoration: none;">including</span><span style="text-decoration: none;"> such things as title pages, reference pages, and having enough sources. Based on the rubric I received, I could say nothing of value on the topic and still pass the assignment with a 75%. Though this is not the intention of my professor, nor do I believe this assignment to be an exercise in meeting checklist requirements, I did want have a real-life example to illustrate a point.</span></i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> I believe that rubrics can be useful. I believe they are most useful for the student who is not a gifted writer and needs the guidelines to produce coherent, meaningful writing, but would otherwise be lost, but we cannot treat all students as if they are so. Rubrics do help prevent failure. What they insure in its place is mediocrity. By denying students the possibility of failing, we also deny them the possibility of excelling. Rubrics help to insure a lack of mistakes. They also insure that students do not learn from their mistakes. Instead, they head learning opportunities off at the pass, provide specific instructions on how to not screw up, and bestow benevolent grades on students who have not earned them, but could have if given the opportunity to fail and try, try again.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>References</i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Kohn, A. (March, 2006). The Trouble with Rubrics. English Journal, vol. 95, no. 4. Retrieved from <a href="http://www.alfiekohn.org/teaching/rubrics.htm">http://www.alfiekohn.org/teaching/rubrics.htm</a>.</i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Mabry, L. (May, 1999). Writing to the Rubric: Lingering Effects of Traditional Standardized Testing on Direct Writing Assessment. Phi Delta Kappan, vol. 80.</i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Robinson, K. (February, 2010). Sir Ken Robinson: Bring on the Learning Revolution! [Video file]. Retrieved from <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/sir_ken_robinson_bring_on_the_revolution.html">http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/sir_ken_robinson_bring_on_the_revolution.html</a>. (2010, October 9). </i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Wilson, M. (2006). Rethinking Rubrics in Writing Assessment. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann. </i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-13017780283558088952011-05-20T16:00:00.003-04:002011-06-20T11:51:20.851-04:00Time's A-Wastin'!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0032JTV6A&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>So the world is <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/belief/2011/may/19/rapture-end-of-the-world">supposed to end tomorrow</a>. That's kind of a bummer because there's lots of stuff I have yet to do, and I doubt I can fit it all in (that's what she said!) by then. A lot of it is the usual: go to Paris, skydive, play in a band with a monkey keyboardist... that kind of thing.<br />
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But lots of stuff on my list comes from the stuff you see on TV and in movies that happen maybe, if you're lucky, once in a lifetime.<br />
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So here it is, folks. Here's my bucket list. And if you can accommodate me on any of these things before <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/under-god/post/harold-camping-who-is-he-and-how-did-he-calculate-the-end-of-the-world/2011/05/20/AFFGEt7G_blog.html">tomorrow's Rapture</a>, I'd surely appreciate it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oFd7dq4CGrc67zkGk86Mswz8B-rHpd0BlXlJW5uQW2krKNRqGyUnX7nTmbyHyWapK4RFWXOZtfZFtT4rh0wDPtWrLYys9mFY13sMsHB-n_zJ8vdfan9ZBb5XhSNBKx5k6CmNMg9VIZO1/s1600/helicopter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oFd7dq4CGrc67zkGk86Mswz8B-rHpd0BlXlJW5uQW2krKNRqGyUnX7nTmbyHyWapK4RFWXOZtfZFtT4rh0wDPtWrLYys9mFY13sMsHB-n_zJ8vdfan9ZBb5XhSNBKx5k6CmNMg9VIZO1/s320/helicopter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
1) This one's an obvious one. I've never gotten to hang from the landing bar of a helicopter as it pulls me away from danger. I know, why would I want to get into danger in the first place? The answer is simple: to get rescued (barely) by a helicopter. I'm also not sure if this is even possible, that I'd be able to hang onto that bar (one-handed, of course, because obviously I'd have been shot in the other arm) as it speeds away. It seems plenty difficult, but damn if I wouldn't give it a try. I suppose my buddy would have to be there too to say something helpful like, "GIVE ME YOUR HAND!" and pull me up too, or else I'd probably die. And it would be cool if there was beer on the helicopter, so we could have a bearded, bloody brew and celebrate our clandestine hijinks. (Did I mention I'd also have to be a CIA operative?) <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GWvdVCgfm4id8Ily2KLLylTsct1IDr5cFZsMZ5hdT-aUNgpztkLZUMdUP6Mj7EKJkKbk5Sa4gYqUSCMuHKwsueHSGCVXxK5chsxOqqBWbte1m4Bx2GU-Dyh8l1ieCuwQNTaJYneAmrdT/s1600/Humphrey_Bogart_in_The_Big_Sleep_trailer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GWvdVCgfm4id8Ily2KLLylTsct1IDr5cFZsMZ5hdT-aUNgpztkLZUMdUP6Mj7EKJkKbk5Sa4gYqUSCMuHKwsueHSGCVXxK5chsxOqqBWbte1m4Bx2GU-Dyh8l1ieCuwQNTaJYneAmrdT/s320/Humphrey_Bogart_in_The_Big_Sleep_trailer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
2) I have yet to give a gorgeous blonde a passionate kiss on a rainy railway station platform and tell her I'm no good for her, Bogart-style. I'd tell her that she's better off with him and that one day she'd thank me. Then I'd plant one last zinger right on her lips, then stoically walk away, preferably to a dangerous jungle somewhere in Southeast Asia where I could be rescued by a helicopter (see above).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEV2fmU0OlKnzQDW1UYoU_UHeF_A4Z67uqqL-f5e0GsdvgqBqF6OMaVtbaVPrNrZ2wObufcj-Shkv8tDZAFzgNCaGwVeBcaXgEIQwf2-EG0ngr3XtoYKEzOkcQ8lMxsfOwTCoLob91puOA/s1600/syriana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEV2fmU0OlKnzQDW1UYoU_UHeF_A4Z67uqqL-f5e0GsdvgqBqF6OMaVtbaVPrNrZ2wObufcj-Shkv8tDZAFzgNCaGwVeBcaXgEIQwf2-EG0ngr3XtoYKEzOkcQ8lMxsfOwTCoLob91puOA/s320/syriana.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
3) Speaking of stoically walking away, I have yet to blow something up and walk away from the explosion without looking at it. I'm not sure I could do this, either, because as I've never blown anything up, I doubt I could resist the urge to witness a massive explosion. So here's what I'm going to have to do by tomorrow: start blowing stuff up. I'm going to have to get so used to blowing stuff up, that I'll be able to blow up a truck using the ol' dropping a cigarette into the trail of leaking gasoline trick, and just know -- really know, like you know in your soul that your parents love you kind of know -- that there's gonna be an explosion, it's gonna be big, and I've seen it so much I don't even have to look anymore (also what she said). I'd walk away from it like it was nothing, like I was just headed in this direction to grab a diet Coke or something and KaBloom! The truck would be no more and I'd be looking all innocent, sipping a bubbly, icy cold beverage. But I'd know. I'd know.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTdMCMq9poA8KcitG5ncnOqKjLGEj8qOjxkwW2Tl9t8E0EmGM5zIqgzDymhkaNXMKgjtfvQ2HBHLvm0GBoMzqyJSW5MDjeAiTgIJJ8v_0wG3tM4_JjXy_FR2UGb7riEY2tZaln9sivRHE/s1600/bareknuckles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTdMCMq9poA8KcitG5ncnOqKjLGEj8qOjxkwW2Tl9t8E0EmGM5zIqgzDymhkaNXMKgjtfvQ2HBHLvm0GBoMzqyJSW5MDjeAiTgIJJ8v_0wG3tM4_JjXy_FR2UGb7riEY2tZaln9sivRHE/s320/bareknuckles.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><br />
4) It's hard to believe that after 32 years, I've never punched someone really hard in the face even though sooooo many people have deserved it! I think it's because my brother and I had a pact growing up that all any punches we threw at each other were to be from the shoulder down so Mom couldn't see the bruise. While I learned that a punch to the shin can be effective when someone is cowering beneath you, I've never had the full-on, bare-knuckled pleasure of decking some stupid jerk who was asking for it. So please, if you can, start being rude and obnoxious and say horrible things about my mother (you could also just be Ben Roethlisberger). Then let me punch you in the face. Thanks!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKsNqzpXtXrNftCw65gIsvdYHP48_8ZoGVgsrhl5KtZfn39IK9kRNas0GINv7sCZLPwzgOadbb-ZUSYCrCw5ebQQy9fC3o3omrXIWvOWjvVumshWkgrGiCWhtM1MMfoK2AbDh4Cx4sWtp/s1600/highfive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKsNqzpXtXrNftCw65gIsvdYHP48_8ZoGVgsrhl5KtZfn39IK9kRNas0GINv7sCZLPwzgOadbb-ZUSYCrCw5ebQQy9fC3o3omrXIWvOWjvVumshWkgrGiCWhtM1MMfoK2AbDh4Cx4sWtp/s1600/highfive.jpg" /></a></div><br />
5) I have never had a super cool, Top Gun-esque high five to share with someone every time one of us does something awesome. I think I'd like to start that, even though I've apparently got less than 12 hours to develop the signature high five and start doing things which are awesome. I'd like it to be simple, but a bit more involved than the ridiculously cute snow bunnies pictured above, and not quite as complicated as something Miguel Tejada would come up with. The windmill high five would work, but it's played out. So let's get cracking, here people, time's a wastin'!<br />
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If I had to choose the order in which I'd like to do these things, I'd probably kiss the blonde, punch her boyfriend in the face, blow something up that incites a riot, get rescued by the helicopter, then give my chopper buddy our signature high five. Let me know if you can set that up.<br />
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My lips to yours.<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-52847917151129156622011-05-13T19:11:00.003-04:002011-06-20T11:54:59.517-04:00Proof That Inhaling Too Much Onion Soup Mix Causes Delirium<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This post is dedicated to the proud owner of the second best set of boobs on the Food Network.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RJ8KptGwkqMqz-ta7WDm6hieeha6XaGe5LQ6XFLDdyS7TBBkwofKr07NsqaB_26dT0uik2IPLXcwfQY-sGIPgOalDfE2KfviiwfIvRuW8fhH_9OqwEfcHxKSg2V4DQcteeqv4ZOv_XMY/s1600/sandra-lee-cookbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RJ8KptGwkqMqz-ta7WDm6hieeha6XaGe5LQ6XFLDdyS7TBBkwofKr07NsqaB_26dT0uik2IPLXcwfQY-sGIPgOalDfE2KfviiwfIvRuW8fhH_9OqwEfcHxKSg2V4DQcteeqv4ZOv_XMY/s1600/sandra-lee-cookbook.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Name: Sandra Lee. Startlingly similar to Sarah Lee, who has a bevy of fully pre-made foods that Sandra Lee might encourage you to buy. On her cooking show. More on that later.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxjjFjF1VRTCNl7u_mJslydOAczN9rNoodQTbskkJTpsMJmMJmbrUax1AJ86L3cQKUZi3CU53OnMIk_WzZhU5556eyXbpGAy8XSA6fePD0dIukNy7TFKbP2HMfvLWXD9NVEuXteW58MGH/s1600/sandraleecostume.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxjjFjF1VRTCNl7u_mJslydOAczN9rNoodQTbskkJTpsMJmMJmbrUax1AJ86L3cQKUZi3CU53OnMIk_WzZhU5556eyXbpGAy8XSA6fePD0dIukNy7TFKbP2HMfvLWXD9NVEuXteW58MGH/s1600/sandraleecostume.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Age: Unknown<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjxGBO34LHvlLHDogLtQvtWLVaHettojkRQ7DK11dODLGsFg-p2qqACVYObtNPhSwYwRHgWga__Gbe2-EjzUgpHfnrw0xk-cFd5XAKf_rT-iKGv5XqyZfePFF1Ul92_OlJY7ViCpkijHC/s1600/SandraLeecleavage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjxGBO34LHvlLHDogLtQvtWLVaHettojkRQ7DK11dODLGsFg-p2qqACVYObtNPhSwYwRHgWga__Gbe2-EjzUgpHfnrw0xk-cFd5XAKf_rT-iKGv5XqyZfePFF1Ul92_OlJY7ViCpkijHC/s320/SandraLeecleavage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Age of her boobs: Perpetually 23<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQc6PcluWDdTofOdr1IhEDmHKDE0iQRbQq2M1t_V7xM1dlHw43-aBoU0Bf3ovFflmwoDWgsEtw0yip0WxE6P6CLRFdfXwkKQpHNxySkDuZ2huDlkXoGzuImkTOlLoqpHNiP-sGdESMm6bI/s1600/kfc1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQc6PcluWDdTofOdr1IhEDmHKDE0iQRbQq2M1t_V7xM1dlHw43-aBoU0Bf3ovFflmwoDWgsEtw0yip0WxE6P6CLRFdfXwkKQpHNxySkDuZ2huDlkXoGzuImkTOlLoqpHNiP-sGdESMm6bI/s320/kfc1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature Dish: <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/sandra-lee/chicken-and-dumplings-recipe/index.html">Chicken and dumplings</a>, which features a "whole, store-bought roast chicken." This woman's <i>cooking show</i> actually tells you to go buy stuff that's <i>already been cooked</i>. Ingenious, really.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFu8sbobo7E3BeabfSEDf45WWHjEbDkv4l_1iGYVN-HrGHaLPZ8HBWCTe8xOiWjYHQeGjaMV8etq29J-QJqAqPYpc-lwnh5d6YDl0uafsSffcETc0NC3S3O0xz-IGiH8eKruVNYYdh2_F/s1600/onion+soup+mix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFu8sbobo7E3BeabfSEDf45WWHjEbDkv4l_1iGYVN-HrGHaLPZ8HBWCTe8xOiWjYHQeGjaMV8etq29J-QJqAqPYpc-lwnh5d6YDl0uafsSffcETc0NC3S3O0xz-IGiH8eKruVNYYdh2_F/s320/onion+soup+mix.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Favorite Ingredient: <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/search/delegate.do?fnSearchString=onion+soup+mix&fnSearchType=site">Onion Soup Mix</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubgR7x51QqePg0K0apnT2r-OdZy3V0iNvRxKeEmPV8GElHBqmAbb1HpEhLX37eSlC5cAymZJv-2SYice8SyTClSbmgk2o9KCmake9HLPY1AfLPvMiLPvPrHu0FqWOn7ZVay0_s4f7Yhag/s1600/newborn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubgR7x51QqePg0K0apnT2r-OdZy3V0iNvRxKeEmPV8GElHBqmAbb1HpEhLX37eSlC5cAymZJv-2SYice8SyTClSbmgk2o9KCmake9HLPY1AfLPvMiLPvPrHu0FqWOn7ZVay0_s4f7Yhag/s1600/newborn.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Eyebrows She Emulates: Newborn babies.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_gzN31CFU0uC6jIFeKGUukVrjevAPHyDS7k8Z7u8zyjSOcVQ0UZL7chT0toWHsd8CMHaX3Y1IP5Dor7BuTiogJdTMka3B5YSMW8JCY_T0XOmfUXaqewT5-DvBuBf6FehR8qzNrhZ5dUv/s1600/sandra-lee_tablescape-christmas_s4x3_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_gzN31CFU0uC6jIFeKGUukVrjevAPHyDS7k8Z7u8zyjSOcVQ0UZL7chT0toWHsd8CMHaX3Y1IP5Dor7BuTiogJdTMka3B5YSMW8JCY_T0XOmfUXaqewT5-DvBuBf6FehR8qzNrhZ5dUv/s320/sandra-lee_tablescape-christmas_s4x3_lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature Tablescape: A repulsive, functionless, Christmas-themed nightmare that becomes increasingly more dangerous with every sugary, vodka-y, Aunt Sandy Cocktail she ingests.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4PVQz7SXzJLcxmARETqJh9o9DLOt5Xn7pO5Y8mejqdWHntUE2ltPhgl8Jp2g84oEYW7OLgDPsfG7xLd3pUWj58-ukoF-ODQ5VO4uGW_8qenoP35yUTFtz1aP5788u0d7AB48s12Mg9pyX/s1600/Strawberry-Cream-Martini_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4PVQz7SXzJLcxmARETqJh9o9DLOt5Xn7pO5Y8mejqdWHntUE2ltPhgl8Jp2g84oEYW7OLgDPsfG7xLd3pUWj58-ukoF-ODQ5VO4uGW_8qenoP35yUTFtz1aP5788u0d7AB48s12Mg9pyX/s320/Strawberry-Cream-Martini_lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Signature Cocktail: <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/sandra-lee/strawberry-cream-martini-recipe/index.html">Strawberry Cream Martini</a> (as always, heavy on the vodka, and heavy on the sugar-laden bullshit).<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B004TE23KS&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
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My lips to her boobs.<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-88842065278470253552011-05-11T16:22:00.002-04:002011-06-20T11:57:11.887-04:00Douchebaggery Unlimited<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This post is dedicated to the Food Network host I love to hate the most.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEFns4TZyMlDnQwlqFnzusvqcdYpVAia51mfKvIdGQRC88gg0Y9f4gzvZBmTf0zwtJLCCF36yyMK1PysYM17PhTfIUwFEr5XoenE4pkurKTjGz69KRrxiA1sGf0IJf9KyCqY6XFVhtaI3/s1600/guyFietti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="88" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEFns4TZyMlDnQwlqFnzusvqcdYpVAia51mfKvIdGQRC88gg0Y9f4gzvZBmTf0zwtJLCCF36yyMK1PysYM17PhTfIUwFEr5XoenE4pkurKTjGz69KRrxiA1sGf0IJf9KyCqY6XFVhtaI3/s320/guyFietti.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Name: Guy Fieri (that's pronounced "fee Eddy," and it rhymes with spaghetti)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-mEdBbXKmGW04n8kJ3pGa9cp4xV_c5qVbznV2PAsxMu_mCgjh-M7Z7qrzCU2V2i65xAr-qGT7scwMtmY1PBnwIRDetAtrj4ACWCyUZKH0wU_wB7OzMItHtfqkCuaeRX_KSGsK27X35f-/s1600/douche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-mEdBbXKmGW04n8kJ3pGa9cp4xV_c5qVbznV2PAsxMu_mCgjh-M7Z7qrzCU2V2i65xAr-qGT7scwMtmY1PBnwIRDetAtrj4ACWCyUZKH0wU_wB7OzMItHtfqkCuaeRX_KSGsK27X35f-/s320/douche.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>Age: Too old to look like this, a look he calls "kulinary gangsta." With a "k." <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWYK393TuZOc8IojfQ70rWVcqHGvllGYE1ulsnDLjmncxRwf3p6VrxBF16LKvHTDLE7Nkgzoqmusq955CJUtw0H4gc3yLaM6fhAKX5XkFvYK91s27wixZuuIY941NBcmbFGRJv2WPP04W/s1600/Chicken-Patties_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWYK393TuZOc8IojfQ70rWVcqHGvllGYE1ulsnDLjmncxRwf3p6VrxBF16LKvHTDLE7Nkgzoqmusq955CJUtw0H4gc3yLaM6fhAKX5XkFvYK91s27wixZuuIY941NBcmbFGRJv2WPP04W/s320/Chicken-Patties_lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Signature Recipe: Something he brought home in a doggy bag from TGI Friday's.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2Z7Y2IKS7KiDH21toEt-KL6tdd6qPha0y8TzFb5Z3vgdwzMnoffSU717XNXR1KwC7VCaht-zUpPsTat_bWqCLeXpF7zHZ8gFeKD78WC9JmSHey5JpOdqnfRBJOr2zC9yeyzYK_MCPMC6/s1600/Anne_s4x3_lead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2Z7Y2IKS7KiDH21toEt-KL6tdd6qPha0y8TzFb5Z3vgdwzMnoffSU717XNXR1KwC7VCaht-zUpPsTat_bWqCLeXpF7zHZ8gFeKD78WC9JmSHey5JpOdqnfRBJOr2zC9yeyzYK_MCPMC6/s320/Anne_s4x3_lead.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Hairstyle He Emulates: Anne Burrell because, yeah. She looks terrific.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJIYQBdx1weik-oYe3jF0DljBAWMNWXPoYqo_U8Wg-pg7omf-gPIZAkU3hbSHXAOUzA5YwfbTqJ9O3UfU08Lc8xITIE4wnCgo4k-LxPhSWBZk3GBM5uxO0K60jNmnqkQ83L5tvJ2pFC8W/s1600/knives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNJIYQBdx1weik-oYe3jF0DljBAWMNWXPoYqo_U8Wg-pg7omf-gPIZAkU3hbSHXAOUzA5YwfbTqJ9O3UfU08Lc8xITIE4wnCgo4k-LxPhSWBZk3GBM5uxO0K60jNmnqkQ83L5tvJ2pFC8W/s320/knives.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Kitchen Utensil Line: "Knuckle Sandwich Knives" (Note the douche-y tattoo art on the blades)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERSsixwiUF8OMoqTKR3WBFpA0YUmbeJ0UGMi8ck8ZyjIqVWLKIe3x-crBHzasxUOt3TkhRRlU78p-mUjqBoq7Iw3ZFRA4ofM53yU_IBKYr4winhTyPzHwYIseq3gO9YRST__DPlMKq-qz/s1600/chili_cocktail-300x295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERSsixwiUF8OMoqTKR3WBFpA0YUmbeJ0UGMi8ck8ZyjIqVWLKIe3x-crBHzasxUOt3TkhRRlU78p-mUjqBoq7Iw3ZFRA4ofM53yU_IBKYr4winhTyPzHwYIseq3gO9YRST__DPlMKq-qz/s1600/chili_cocktail-300x295.jpg" /></a></div>Signature Cocktail: The <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/guy-fieri/cabo-wabo-cocktail-recipe/index.html">Cabo Wabo Cocktail</a> which features tequila, mangoes, and chili powder. Try chasing it with some muskrat piss.<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B002XQ2D8Q&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
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My lips to yours, but not if you've been drinking one of Guy's cocktails.<br />
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<br />
</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-60360449705451841442011-05-08T22:37:00.002-04:002011-06-20T11:58:30.688-04:00Plentyoffish: Why Me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It's Sunday night, so the good people at Plentyoffish.com have decided to casually introduce me to some fine ladies in the Baltimore metropolitan area. Obviously, they think it wise to start my week off with a healthy dose of hopeless despair. Fortunately for you, gentle readers, instead of simply deleting the emails sent to me by this perplexing, sad, and most depressing website, thus side-stepping the painful process of wriggling out of the nets cast by scores of overweight, borderline retarded, single Maryland women, I dive head first into their murky waters, and confront their supreme awkwardness head-on.<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B000UPOJ5W&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
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And of course, by "head-on," I mean, "making fun of them behind their backs." But just to protect any feelings that might possibly get hurt (I know, I'm turning into a royal bleeding heart, aren't I?) I'm editing the names of the (ahem) innocent.<br />
<br />
Shall we begin?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtcEOUY27oMicZMkTwDvcl2RkWKSq1Q02gDUBzi3JK5tu5HcECNMzzZ7l3GOT7_bbKUEqyQGL0CNJ5f81USv1p9ofjccCJkoUZEbpZEfO1De8V4I5ljCJDfclw7wB4Y62XMM8X0na3Pxl/s1600/fatfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtcEOUY27oMicZMkTwDvcl2RkWKSq1Q02gDUBzi3JK5tu5HcECNMzzZ7l3GOT7_bbKUEqyQGL0CNJ5f81USv1p9ofjccCJkoUZEbpZEfO1De8V4I5ljCJDfclw7wB4Y62XMM8X0na3Pxl/s320/fatfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I only tell the truth when I get excited.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">luv------81</i> fits the hefty yet chinless mold of plentyoffish users I've come to know and accept as "the usual." She further fails to make herself stand out as she chose to leave her "interests" section blank. She does tell me a little bit about herself, though, and for this I am truly grateful.<br />
<br />
Thank you, <i style="font-weight: bold;">luv------81</i>, for telling me you "like to go to the movies, play pool shopping and going to the gym." I now know 1) nothing about your taste in movies, 2) you like to "play pool shopping," which I imagine consists of you going to pool stores where you pretend to buy pools, and 3) you enjoy fibbing about your exercise habits.<br />
<br />
Concerning her outlook on life, she notes that she is "a very down to Earth person" and I might remember the rest of sentence, but bullshit cliches often make me drool on my keyboard, so cleaning the spittle between my space bar and the v key distracted me.<br />
<br />
Let's see, what else does she have to say for herself? Ah yes, here it is. "Sometimes I like to tell it like it is, but for the most part I'm a very laid back person." So you're only honest sometimes, but the rest of the time whilst you're lying through your teeth, you can be a pretty calm chick, huh? Sorry, <i style="font-weight: bold;">luv------81, </i>even though the picture of you drinking from a red plastic cup in a car outside the <i>7-11</i> was pretty hot,<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>as I can't tell if you were either hyper and truthful or calm and duplicitous when you wrote your profile, I can't trust you and will have to go fish elsewhere.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOYF428qFzC1kWMQebsnrGCL4pyv3b2RToSTu0lGJUJ51_MHqgqtu6iIazdfblcPazl8XrFohwAZSoAUjXKmfabMdg5FnGb3cRqhte3B9gAy_CQEkvKgQ58Qac4gs4s23ZejR_f8lrDhs/s1600/funfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOYF428qFzC1kWMQebsnrGCL4pyv3b2RToSTu0lGJUJ51_MHqgqtu6iIazdfblcPazl8XrFohwAZSoAUjXKmfabMdg5FnGb3cRqhte3B9gAy_CQEkvKgQ58Qac4gs4s23ZejR_f8lrDhs/s320/funfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opened to everything. Don't ask what I mean by "opened."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">L----246 </i>actually breaks the mold of "the usual" and is somewhat physically attractive, but she has some trouble nailing down <i>exactly</i> what her interests are. Her entire "About Me" section reads as follows: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">I am opened to everything... want to try new things.hangout with my family..my friend,shopping,love to go fishing.. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Notice me if you interested !!!" </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">You like everything? Sweet! I'm totally into self-induced comas, stealing from the elderly and flogging the homeless without mercy. I'm guessing you are, too! How about this for a first date? We could have boiling water balloon fights with pre-teens, paint vulgar images on stop signs while on meth, then go hang out with your family or your one friend! </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Believe me, I notice you and I interested!!!</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBO0o3FgKHSla6cXPGt52VtD8wqNCndtRsm56c8F5wt6DX_pX2zYzDQM4wEry47ci_n23koOCOEz1Kzhvm4wDdI6aL6i_y_tcdoj89IrDkksok_d_7Tqf1f_sf5psCF1zrbmMvd5nvVueV/s1600/scaryfish21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBO0o3FgKHSla6cXPGt52VtD8wqNCndtRsm56c8F5wt6DX_pX2zYzDQM4wEry47ci_n23koOCOEz1Kzhvm4wDdI6aL6i_y_tcdoj89IrDkksok_d_7Tqf1f_sf5psCF1zrbmMvd5nvVueV/s320/scaryfish21.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It doesn't matter what I am, just love me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">nedd----004 </i>is a 29 year old woman who is obviously lying about her age and quite possibly her gender. She again stretches the truth when describing her body type as having "a few extra pounds," but she does come clean later on in her profile as her "about me" section begins, "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">5'5" brown hair, brown eyes, 199 lbs." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">nedd----004</i> looks as if she's been through a few wars, wars which may have involved states seceding from the Union, unreasonable taxes on tea, or quite possibly an objection to Hammurabi's Code. She does keep her hairstyle up to date, though, with a rather fearsome mullet and she has seemingly decided to replace her eyebrows with live ferrets. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For the sake of not being repetitive, I'll eschew pointing out her paragraphs without periods, but instead take a look at the content of her self descriptions. She claims to be "tired of being hurt in relationships," but I imagine that trying to find her sexual identity during the Bubonic Plague was a bit rough on <i style="font-weight: bold;">nedd----004</i>. But she also offers this rather perplexing tidbit: "I would love to find someone who would care for me for who I am, not what I am." Does this not beg the question, "Lady, what the fuck ARE you?" I might have a tough time getting past the whole "what is she" dilemma and moving on to "loving her for who she is." Color me a bigot, but I'd first like to make sure she's human.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Oh, Plentyoffish... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">My lips to yours.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-64592394487695270362011-05-05T11:56:00.000-04:002011-05-05T11:56:48.987-04:00A Much More Serious Review You Should Pay Attention To<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcUWHbyc9pYWCpMnPFU-yLr322x9n_q_NBfEu0429xfIz_7fBFhADsmWqtXxNtAahQhvGbI4O1caVeKGh2_ajhCGZYyO4FKNm2QNSArW2yrG_9YD4UFNQP1I98sZC255cUVzM6m9S2cJ-/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcUWHbyc9pYWCpMnPFU-yLr322x9n_q_NBfEu0429xfIz_7fBFhADsmWqtXxNtAahQhvGbI4O1caVeKGh2_ajhCGZYyO4FKNm2QNSArW2yrG_9YD4UFNQP1I98sZC255cUVzM6m9S2cJ-/s320/untitled.bmp" width="265" /></a></div><br />
This is a review of my friend, St. Even's album, <em>Spirit Animal</em>, which <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/spirit-animal/id421854906">you should pay for</a> and listen to a lot. <br />
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I did not write this review, but I like it and it is accurate. Click, and read on.<br />
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<a href="http://www.wweek.com/portland/blog-27065-st_even_dreams_my_rope_spirit_animal_(dustbin_records).html">http://www.wweek.com/portland/blog-27065-st_even_dreams_my_rope_spirit_animal_(dustbin_records).html</a><br />
</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-66314018369714611802011-05-04T18:32:00.005-04:002011-06-20T12:35:40.649-04:00Mega Shark vs Crocosaurus: a Really Long Movie Review (20,000 Stars) Pt. 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHlZTLfAUgFdZ7fRHU-Fc1g_RTm1YiVOnjl7z3NgKkRSdH1Cvo_MVZ48tOub70tv-BsjKomrnwWxQ05VdMDGpZVxvYQIhzLskPVWa9b_bN15tTSSDsCzSrnbz6slODOBMjmjpYEQSai6Q/s1600/Mega-Shark-versus-Crocosaurus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHlZTLfAUgFdZ7fRHU-Fc1g_RTm1YiVOnjl7z3NgKkRSdH1Cvo_MVZ48tOub70tv-BsjKomrnwWxQ05VdMDGpZVxvYQIhzLskPVWa9b_bN15tTSSDsCzSrnbz6slODOBMjmjpYEQSai6Q/s320/Mega-Shark-versus-Crocosaurus.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br />
If you ever have a day when you don't have a reason to put on pants, I suggest you spend part of that day watching what is possibly the greatest movie ever: <i>Mega Shark vs Crocosaurus</i>.<br />
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I found <i>Mega Shark vs Crocosaurus </i>on Netflix today, and thinking that it was going to be a National Geographic episode about pre-historic creatures I decided to watch it on my laptop whilst I lay in bed, <i>sans</i> pants. The opening credits began and the first name to appear was none other than Jaleel White, the child star of ABC's <i>Family Matters.</i> My original thought was, "why the fuck is Steve Urkel narrating a National Geographic episode about pre-historic creatures?" But as the movie began, I realized I was in for a feature film, and one hell of a ride!<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B001TH16DI&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
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The movie begins "somewhere in Africa." It really doesn't matter where in Africa, nor does it really matter if it's in Africa at all because the movie pays no attention to where the characters are nor how long it takes for them to change locations, assuming correctly that the audience isn't paying attention either. So there are these Africans in a cave/mine and one of them finds a sharktooth-shaped rock and assumes its a diamond. It is not only not a diamond, it is completely irrelevant to the story, for within about a minute of the evil white boss telling him to get back to work...<br />
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CROCOSAURUS COMES OUT OF THE CAVE AND EATS THE EVIL WHITE BOSS!!! The evil white boss forgot to run, and/or turn around when all his workers fled the cave after the dinosaur-like growling emanating from the cave caused the cave to begin to collapse. After he casually walks to the front of the cave, Crocosaurus eats him and steps on a few miners, squishing them into smithereens.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZrh6apviiTWjDhAEm3mkVVO0q9rEy75hK2A5njxHCs9uxRcTuFyuKLMAK-E4fZUrwUfb0p_-IfUlry1stphZ211pnxle2BeWBgwOZ6jbfWvZeTwKhShCr-XSSRhmWJWqypOYBLhGDbO9/s1600/Mega-Shark-Vs.-Crocosaurus-220x150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZrh6apviiTWjDhAEm3mkVVO0q9rEy75hK2A5njxHCs9uxRcTuFyuKLMAK-E4fZUrwUfb0p_-IfUlry1stphZ211pnxle2BeWBgwOZ6jbfWvZeTwKhShCr-XSSRhmWJWqypOYBLhGDbO9/s1600/Mega-Shark-Vs.-Crocosaurus-220x150.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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It is important to note that the cave was just barely large enough for the miners to stand up in. I note this because the makers of this movie (and their special effects artists) are seemingly unconcerned with the size of their antagonist creatures. Later on in the movie, we see Crocosaurus crushing buildings in Miami <i>and</i> Orlando, a distance Crocosaurus covers in a few seconds. But I digress...<br />
<br />
<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B0032UYFA6&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>The scene changes and we meet our handsome hero, Dr. Terry McCormick, a young Lieutenant in the US Navy. He is an acoustic engineer on a battleship, specializing in how sound affects sharks. After some witless banter with his semi-attractive superior, we learn they are lovers (yes, gasp on, dear readers, gasp on) but as with the shark tooth stone, it turns out it doesn't really matter who she is because as soon as she goes back up onto the deck of the ship...<br />
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MEGA SHARK JUMPS OVER THE SHIP AND KILLS HER!!! After a quick but yawn-inducing scene in which Dr. McCormick pretends to cry over her dead body, he leaves her to rot and puts on a wetsuit which he uses to get in the water when Mega Shark sinks the boat. We assume he was rescued somehow and not eaten by Mega Shark, and we also assume that life is not a cruel joke played on us by an evil creator who has forced us to watch this movie for his sick pleasure and enjoyment. And so we watch on.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ4q2V9GOhR-w0CM81XZTP4r-FT5oYVdNE_HdUmI7Hu66b3o9aFIjvu8oQw-nKZUY-WMCIRTK3RKCgKMjNNrE2uc5vTcfU2AsZYCNSVIXcusrbuifxf-3pX1bIDnKcIaN2xznbAUmHTrw/s1600/120310_megashark_vs_crocosaurus_t.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ4q2V9GOhR-w0CM81XZTP4r-FT5oYVdNE_HdUmI7Hu66b3o9aFIjvu8oQw-nKZUY-WMCIRTK3RKCgKMjNNrE2uc5vTcfU2AsZYCNSVIXcusrbuifxf-3pX1bIDnKcIaN2xznbAUmHTrw/s1600/120310_megashark_vs_crocosaurus_t.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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We again notice some size and perspective issues, this time with Mega Shark. When Mega Shark leaps over the boat and slaps it with his tail he appears to be about 2/3 as big as the battleship itself. But when the seamen (tee hee!) start shooting (tee hee!) at Mega Shark, it is obvious that his dorsal fin alone is larger than the battleship. Anyway, everyone dies except Steve Urkel who we see swimming underwater with some scuba gear as the ship sinks.<br />
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Aaaaaand.... we're back in the Jungle! Though this time, we meet a handsome adventurer who kills a boar and goes to a jungle bar, where he is met by a beautiful blond reporter with a thick Australian accent. They talk about some mythical creature and she offers him money to capture the creature we assume to be Crocosaurus. Then they get in a helicopter and they find the area they're looking for because the reporter says, "there's nothing there." In the audience, heads are scratched, balls are adjusted, and some figure this is a good time to get a Diet Coke, pants or no pants.<br />
<br />
<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B004OSVTRW&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>Anyway, Blondie is traipsing around the jungle in high heels and a black cocktail dress and she stumbles into a pond where she is...<br />
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IMMEDIATELY EATEN BY CROCOSAURUS!!! Crocosaurus then chases Adventurepants into the cave where we met Crocosaurus at the beginning of the movie, only now Crocosaurus is far too large to fit into the cave from whence she came. Adventurboots then runs out of the cave with an unidentified object in his hand, and is eaten by Crocosaurus who shakes her head and dies, leaving Adventureface alive!<br />
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After a few more scenes of gut-wrenching irrelevance, Crocosaurus is on a boat the size of an aircraft carrier, and takes up the whole deck. Apparently she's been sedated. Oh yeah, I've been calling her "she" because you find out later that she's a she and she lays eggs you don't give a shit about either. And then...<br />
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MEGA SHARK ATTACKS THE BOAT!!! It's also about this time we learn that Crocosaurus isn't dead, but sedated because obviously Adventuredick had enough sedatives to keep a crocodile that large asleep for as long as is necessary in the movie. So we see Crocosaurus has been tied down this whole time.The captain of the boat frees her by snipping the twine from the paper thin tarp that has "secured" Crocosaurus to the deck. He then, in the midst of a dual, pre-historic monster attack at sea, jumps overboard with Adventurebottom. The scene then immediately cuts to the two of them being awakened by some kids on a beach. Adventurehips pulls a gun on the kid who thinks nothing of it, because he's from a rough neighborhood and stuff and guns... well let's just say he's had his share of guns pulled on him by strangers on the beach. The yawns just keep coming.<br />
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I've forgotten what Urkel does next, but it obviously doesn't matter.<br />
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Adventurefoot goes to yet another jungle bar but doesn't have the money to pay. But lo and behold, Special Agent Bigtits comes into the bar with her wallet and her stern face a-blazin'. She takes him somewhere. It might be on a boat. It might be at a naval base. You don't know where they are for sure, but it looks like wherever they are, they're in the Shitgoesdownhere Room. There are no windows and they come and go from this place so frequently and without reason, that if you had any shred of sanity left at this point in the movie, you'd be dizzy. But you don't, and you allow the movie to continue, taking with it your remaining dignity.<br />
<br />
[To Be Continued...]<br />
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My lips to yours.<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-71527416670938397972011-05-01T22:58:00.002-04:002011-06-20T12:05:14.324-04:00Salaries<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJTC7yDOL1FTVBUpiI86PGlyU48k7qIjc92Fjx3ay5kUboUMh2jqksNRHAixBu5VJmGLxc3bdVXHU04TDilsdRajXH3QBWyNjYZw8HXKpJ1SZslSecdI0OvYff0F3BID48vUhwTpXFx-Q/s1600/OrangeDollarSign.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJTC7yDOL1FTVBUpiI86PGlyU48k7qIjc92Fjx3ay5kUboUMh2jqksNRHAixBu5VJmGLxc3bdVXHU04TDilsdRajXH3QBWyNjYZw8HXKpJ1SZslSecdI0OvYff0F3BID48vUhwTpXFx-Q/s320/OrangeDollarSign.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I was looking at the <a href="http://espn.go.com/mlb/team/salaries/_/name/bal/baltimore-orioles">Orioles salaries</a> for their players this year and I got to thinking about who has been earning their money so far this year. They've been at it for a month and they've played 26 games. So who really earned their paychecks this month? Here's how the 10 highest paid Orioles have fared so far. Please note that the amount paid "per game" includes games in which the player does not make an appearance.<br />
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Nick Markakis<br />
Salary - $10.6 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $1.7 million ($65,432 per game)<br />
Stats - 26 games played, .206 average, 2 HR, 12 RBI, .586 <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On-base_plus_slugging">OPS</a><br />
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Brian Roberts<br />
Salary - $10 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $1.6 million ($61,728 per game)<br />
Stats - 26 games played, .262 average, 3 HR, 19 RBI, .731 OPS<br />
<br />
Vladimir Guerrero<br />
Salary - $7.6 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $1.2 million ($46,913 per game)<br />
Stats - 26 games played, .269 average, 4HR, 13 RBI, .667 OPS<br />
<br />
Derrek Lee<br />
Salary - $7.25 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $1.1 million ($44,753 per game)<br />
Stats - 26 games played, .228 average, 1 HR, 4 RBI, .591 OPS<br />
<br />
Luke Scott<br />
Salary - $6.4 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $1 million and change ($39,506 per game)<br />
Stats - 20 games played, .262 average, 5 HR, 10 RBI, .863 OPS<br />
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Mike Gonzalez<br />
Salary - $6 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $962,962 ($37,037 per game)<br />
Stats - 8 games played, 7.1 innings pitched, 9.82 ERA, 4 BB, 8 SO, 1.77 WHIP, 2 holds<iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=myl03f5-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B000TG8D6I&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe><br />
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Jeremy Guthrie<br />
Salary - $5.75 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $922,839 ($35,493 per game)<br />
Stats - 5 games played, 32 innings pitched, 2.53 ERA, 4 BB, 19 SO, 1.09 WHIP, 4 quality starts<br />
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Mark Reynolds<br />
Salary - $5.33 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $855,967 ($32,921 per game)<br />
Stats - 26 games played, .172 average, 3 HR, 15 RBI, .597 OPS<br />
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Kevin Gregg<br />
Salary - $4.2 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $674,074 ($25,925 per game)<br />
Stats - 10 games played, 10 innings pitched, 2.70 ERA, 6 BB, 10 SO, 1.50 WHIP, 5 saves<br />
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Adam Jones<br />
Salary - $3.25 million<br />
Earned through 26 games - $521,604 ($20,061 per game)<br />
Stats - 25 games played, .207 average, 5 HR, 14 RBI, .591 OPS<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010667976592255291.post-43022411006138024452011-05-01T10:19:00.000-04:002011-05-01T10:19:29.020-04:00Published!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdq95OIGjs5omFsR-HYpY58mQ-0bZdEztaIz_5rTeLap6Qo3Fk-DtHIlSP4eKfkUS5czEOj5120VSRdMmysY9CBpwOdJ8fHjgiPWigWTqMqM9zomRSD89rljyg2TQl_PVX1vOx0ZxHMRdf/s1600/Pacquiao-Vs-Mosley-300x199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdq95OIGjs5omFsR-HYpY58mQ-0bZdEztaIz_5rTeLap6Qo3Fk-DtHIlSP4eKfkUS5czEOj5120VSRdMmysY9CBpwOdJ8fHjgiPWigWTqMqM9zomRSD89rljyg2TQl_PVX1vOx0ZxHMRdf/s1600/Pacquiao-Vs-Mosley-300x199.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
My first article published somewhere other than here by someone other than me <a href="http://www.ultimatesportstalk.com/2011/05/01/not-the-fight-fans-want-to-see/">can be read here</a>. Click the link, read the thing and leave comments that say stuff about that thing.<br />
(Spoiler Alert! It's not my best stuff, and no, I didn't get paid for it.)<br />
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</div>Philbertunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13651977162276999653noreply@blogger.com0