<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841</id><updated>2012-01-29T15:55:43.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>@shley</title><subtitle type='html'>MCBOOTY</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-7351781263237140721</id><published>2010-03-24T05:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T05:40:25.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-7351781263237140721?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/7351781263237140721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=7351781263237140721' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7351781263237140721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7351781263237140721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2010/03/dad.html' title='dad'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-7749892656795052916</id><published>2008-09-08T13:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:10:37.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation with Dave</title><content type='html'>I tried tricking him into eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pirogis&lt;/span&gt;, I know he will love them he just refuses to try them.&lt;br /&gt;Me "Dinner is in the fridge. I made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;potato&lt;/span&gt; pockets with a dipping sauce"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ooooohhhh&lt;/span&gt;, I like....."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;about 5 minutes of silence followed by the closing of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;refrigerator&lt;/span&gt; and a long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sighhhhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave" I KNOW WHAT THESE ARE THESE ARE THOSE THINGS!!!! i HATE THOSE THINGS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : You hate potatoes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt; news to me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave: " NO, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; what these are. They're those things you know.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me "I have no idea what your talking about EAT THEM YOU WILL LIKE THEM"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OOHhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt; I CANT I just cant...I'm sorry, please do not make me eat them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me" Oh you think that they are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;perogis&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;nooo&lt;/span&gt; I just formed them in that half circle shape"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ohhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;uhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;nooo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;uhhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ohhh&lt;/span&gt; god no please i have had these before they made me puke I will puke right here if you make me eat them....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;uhhh&lt;/span&gt; I can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;help&lt;/span&gt; me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Jesus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; let her feed me these"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me "You are quite possibly the worst &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;polack&lt;/span&gt; out there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave" I KNEW IT."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-7749892656795052916?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/7749892656795052916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=7749892656795052916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7749892656795052916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7749892656795052916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/09/conversation-with-dave.html' title='Conversation with Dave'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-5257553597786717533</id><published>2008-08-22T16:36:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:27:29.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>21 life lessons Learned by the age of 21</title><content type='html'>In no particular order....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Time heals all wounds, in the moment it may not feel like it will but it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The juice is worth the squeeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Dorthy said it best "There is no place like home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Take as many pictures as you can when you are old and senile you'll be happy you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Half the fun of a trip is getting there, so do stop and smell the roses along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Pick your battles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. So very very true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Don't wait till your old and gray to be quirky and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;eccentric&lt;/span&gt;. Start now so you'll be a pro by&lt;br /&gt;then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. A kiss does make it feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Everything tastes better if you share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Those weird guys in school &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; do grow up to be millionaires, so be nice to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Bad things happen to good people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Everyone make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Always give people a second chance, not a third or fourth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Growing old beats the alternative — dying young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Think before you speak . (still have a hard time with this one.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. never give up, never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;surrender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. When there is an elephant in the room introduce it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Don't wish your life away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Everyone needs a skip day now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Flow with the Flow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-5257553597786717533?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/5257553597786717533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=5257553597786717533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5257553597786717533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5257553597786717533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/08/21-life-lessons-learned-by-age-of-21.html' title='21 life lessons Learned by the age of 21'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2212645807018066399</id><published>2008-08-01T15:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T11:59:03.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet the Bakers</title><content type='html'>Dave Baker is finally making an honest women outta me. We have been happily engaged for 2 weeks now. Im rocking some pretty fancy "bling" on my finger if I may say so....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here on the couch blogging when I am suppose to be packing. Me and the fiance (that sounds so Cheese we need to come up with a better word here.) are going on vacation!...with his Dad's family. I'm not quit sure what to expect on this trip. What I can expect is to be called Amber, Lisa, Amy, &amp;amp; Sweetheart, because after 6 1/2 years of being around this family THEY STILL do not know my name....They even give me the cold shoulder out in public. I will say hello and they look at me like I am a complete stranger. Drr people, it's me Ashley there is a picture of me in your family calendar hanging up in your kitchen. When we get married They are all going to be there like aw she is a nice girl what ever happend to that other one amber?........AMBERS DEAD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2212645807018066399?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2212645807018066399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2212645807018066399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2212645807018066399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2212645807018066399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/08/meet-bakers.html' title='Meet the Bakers'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-4699722870806096254</id><published>2008-06-30T10:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T17:15:27.825-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You got a PURTY MOUTH...</title><content type='html'>This past weekend I attended a Family reunion. More like a circus then a reunion. I have been abscent from the festivities for last 3 years. Because I am the oh holy protacal child who can do no wrong, I decided to grace the family with my prescence. let me give you a BREIF backround so you can paint a pretty little picture in your head.&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa is like 1 out of 15 kids. Living out in the middle of the Adirondacks with no Moving Picture Box, or People Magazine Subscription things get pretty boring I guess, and as a result of this he got 15 brothers and sisters. Ohhh my god my family is like the DUGGARDS!....oh god off topic... Anyway they are hillbillys and everytime I look at one I hear the music from delivernce playing on a continuous loop in my head. There was this one that use to follow me around with his camera my uncle and he would just take 100's of picture of me for his "Picture Book". He has not been since I stopped attending 3 years ago and thankfully he was not there Saturday. THen we have this women with 2 lazy eyes who IS OBSESSED with my mom. First off when I look at her I don't know where to look. One eye is looking North East and the other is looking somewhere West so I kind of aim north in between her eyebrow...Yes eyebrow singular. There is one. She named her daughter after my mom...Apparently the story goes..She was suppose to have a boy but when that sucker popped out it was a girl and the only name that came to her mind was AMY the name of her most favorite cousin. Just the thought of this women giving birth and the only thing getting her to pull throught was her favorite cousin AMY killed me...It's funny because they did not grow up together they don't hang out or talk on the phone...I dont even think my mom knows what this lady's name is to be honest. But every year she tells that story to anyone who will listen, and then she follows my mom around snapping pictures for "little amys picture book"....My moms "Namessake." hahahahhahahahaha........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-4699722870806096254?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/4699722870806096254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=4699722870806096254' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4699722870806096254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4699722870806096254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-suck.html' title='You got a PURTY MOUTH...'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-6333867829663449176</id><published>2008-04-30T16:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T17:05:40.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Hump Day</title><content type='html'>Today has felt a little like Christmas around here..... The elderly man with dementia was humming jingle bells while he waited patiently for his wife during treatment....During this time he wished me a merry christmas 4 times,  Let out 2  Ho ho ho  *hack hack cough*, and a felize navidad.  I had to humor this man...No one else does they all tell him he is crazy...So after every "Merry Christmas"  I kindly replied with " SAme to you , or happy kwanza" just to mix it up a little.  Adding to the Christmas spirit I recieved a few gifts today.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 VIP tickets to the special olympics&lt;br /&gt;1 banana cream pie&lt;br /&gt;1 mini rose bush&lt;br /&gt;1 pair gardening gloves&lt;br /&gt;3 green peace bumper stickers&lt;br /&gt;1 choclate cupcake&lt;br /&gt;1 pen with my name on it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a partridge in a pair tree.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't hate.....at least the old lady stopped bringing in tubes of lube for me......ughhhhhhh funky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-6333867829663449176?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/6333867829663449176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=6333867829663449176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6333867829663449176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6333867829663449176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-hump-day.html' title='Happy Hump Day'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-7689679312141839580</id><published>2008-04-21T11:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T11:37:40.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NO FISH FOR YOU!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend my roomie and I went out to find a companion for our goldfish.....fish aka willy aka Pedro aka why don't you like me you goddamn fish stop swimming away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Petsmart..I &lt;em&gt;usually &lt;/em&gt;enjoy this fine pet establishment...its clean the people are nice and the animals seem pretty happy and healthy. While we were in the fish section trying to scope out the perfect little buddy for our lonely fish at home...We finally came upon a very cute baby goldfish that was all orange with fins that looked like they were dipped in black paint on the tips. We found a girl that worked there to help us snag the little bugger. But before she even asked us which one we were bombarded with a million questions....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Do you know a gold fish is related to a carp fish"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-why yes in fact i did....did you know they were domesticated in china and they evolved from a carp like a million years ago....take that fish lady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have an aerator" (why yes, yes i do)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well do you know what it does"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Well I believe it makes bubbles in the water so our fine finned friend can breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I start to loose patients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well do you know they need 20 gallons per fish to survive"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bitch give me my god damn fish..... &lt;/strong&gt;Is what I should have said but instead I replied with I had 2 gold fish a bowl WITHOUT an aerator and they lasted forever it was when I put them in a larger tank with an AERATOR that they died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well congratulations".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It then turned into a 30 second stair down with her and I....Dave remained at my side laughing hysterical at the unbelievable display before his eyes.....I then pointed at the fish I wanted and said " I want THIS fish". So she read in and grabbed it put it in a bag handed it to me and said "Good luck".....after I paid for my little fishy and was walking out Dave said " You should have asked them how they can have 25 goldfish in a 10 gallon tank WITH AN AERATOR. I was so pissed he didn't bring that up earlier. Anyways we got him into his new home and renamed the old fish Simon and the new fish Garfunkel. We have recently come to the conclusion that they may in fact need a bigger tank...but I will be dammed if I go back to the fish department at Petsmart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-7689679312141839580?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/7689679312141839580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=7689679312141839580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7689679312141839580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7689679312141839580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-fish-for-you.html' title='NO FISH FOR YOU!!!!!!'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2813420136263561825</id><published>2008-04-18T02:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T09:01:00.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'>me me meeeeee</title><content type='html'>A little diddy I wrote my honey bun....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were a cookie then, you’d be my chip,&lt;br /&gt;If you were a chip then I’d be your dip,&lt;br /&gt;If you were the spring ,&lt;br /&gt;then I know I’d be the rain&lt;br /&gt;If you were a glove&lt;br /&gt;I’d be your big ball of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want is you, will you be my guy&lt;br /&gt;I promise this is not another lie&lt;br /&gt;All I want is you, will you be my guy&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand in yours and lets learn how  to fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were the early bird, Id always be your worm,&lt;br /&gt;Our love has no boundaries it doesn’t have terms&lt;br /&gt;If I was a tub of popcorn you’d be my butter&lt;br /&gt;The love I have for you make my stomach flutter&lt;br /&gt;If you were a ice cream, then I’d be your sprinkles&lt;br /&gt;If you were a star I’d be the twinkle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want is you, will be my guy&lt;br /&gt;I promise this is not another lie&lt;br /&gt;All I want is you, will you be my guy&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand in yours and lets learn how to fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were firefly then I’ll be your jar&lt;br /&gt;Keeping you close so you don’t get to far&lt;br /&gt;If you were a tree then I’ll be your leaves&lt;br /&gt;Keeping you cool like a warm summers breeze&lt;br /&gt;If you were the sea, then I’d be the waves&lt;br /&gt;I’ll just be your Ashley, and you be my Dave&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2813420136263561825?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2813420136263561825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2813420136263561825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2813420136263561825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2813420136263561825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/04/me-me-meeeeee.html' title='me me meeeeee'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-6701317449328225510</id><published>2008-04-16T14:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T15:03:30.902-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Golden Years??--- My Ass</title><content type='html'>If you have read my blog before you understand the fact that I get my fair share of craziness on a daily basis...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; craziness comes from the old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fogey&lt;/span&gt; community.  Here are a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;snippets&lt;/span&gt; of my conversations with them today......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 am with Helen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H- "I can't Make my appointment today, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sick"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- " Sorry to hear that I hope that I hope your okay"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H- "Well sweetheart I got 2 pairs of underwear on, because the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;diarrhea&lt;/span&gt; is so bad.  On top of that I keep UPCHUCKING all over the house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- "........"  " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Uhhh&lt;/span&gt;.... ..... Feel better BYE"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;( To get the real essence of my conversation with bob you have got to picture the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;tiniest&lt;/span&gt; little white haired man with  a booming southern twang...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B -  "SO I done can't go out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;walkin&lt;/span&gt; no more. Due to this here leg of mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- (Let me start by saying Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;had'nt&lt;/span&gt; said a word to me since he had gotten here..40 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; ago and comes out of left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;field&lt;/span&gt; with this interesting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;convo&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;         " Well bob, that sucks you should get one of those rascal things. "&lt;br /&gt;B- " I think its a corn that is hurting me.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- " .........hmmm...ouch"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B - " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Actually&lt;/span&gt; the foot man said that it is my bone sticking out through the bottom wanna take a gander"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ( trying not to "upchuck") "Bob you need to keep your foot in your shoe away from me on the other side of the counter ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob's wife went out shopping after her treatment and left him here....he fell asleep with his mouth wide open...snoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helen called back later in the day to update me? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt; man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H- " The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;diarrhea&lt;/span&gt; has stopped a little, the Upchucking is still pretty nasty"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- ".................(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ughhh&lt;/span&gt;) Well maybe you should get off the phone and rest"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H-" Well call me back in a few hours to ch&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;eck&lt;/span&gt; on me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;? will you do that? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Will&lt;/span&gt; you call me back?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me-  ( is she kidding?....It's the flu lady you made it through the depression a war the 70's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sure you will survive a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;stomach&lt;/span&gt; bug)....I will have the doc give ya a call in a bit...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe can handle this one for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Lastly john&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J-" You watch 60 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME-"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;ehh&lt;/span&gt; sometimes why..." (why...always my first mistake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J-" Andy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Rooney&lt;/span&gt; can go and shove &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; up his you know what"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;whheeww&lt;/span&gt; oh no you didn't......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-6701317449328225510?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/6701317449328225510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=6701317449328225510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6701317449328225510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6701317449328225510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/04/golden-years-my-ass.html' title='The Golden Years??--- My Ass'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-5311739004681712996</id><published>2008-03-19T13:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:02:13.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Assembly required</title><content type='html'>I will never ever buy another piece of furniture that has to be put together AGAIN. 3 hours later my high top table and 4 high top charis are assembled.......Why did it take so long you may ask, Well you silly internet I put it together in the living room so I could watch The Real World and when I went to carry it into the kitchen it didnt fit through the doorway so I had to take it apart again and get it in there.  A little advice from me......do not mix wine and furniture assembly at 12:00am.....the 2 just don't mix well&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-5311739004681712996?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/5311739004681712996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=5311739004681712996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5311739004681712996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5311739004681712996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/03/no-assembly-required.html' title='No Assembly required'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-6964493066838329992</id><published>2008-03-12T11:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T11:31:10.951-04:00</updated><title type='text'>HOLY. CRAP. BATMAN.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt; So I got an email today about my blog from an editor at....ELLE magazine &lt;a href="http://www.ellegirl.com/"&gt;www.ELLEGIRL.com&lt;/a&gt;. They like me they really like me.  I can hardly contain my self I don't know weather or not to pee my pants from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt;, or puke.  This editor said that they could be interested in WORKING with ME.....uh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;helllllooo&lt;/span&gt; how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stellar&lt;/span&gt; would that be?  It is taking all the strength I have to not call her back at the number she gave me.  At this point I would probably pay them to let me blog for there site/magazine.  So, I have to hold off until I get off this natural high and get my head together, so I can talk business.  Keep your fingers crossed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-6964493066838329992?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/6964493066838329992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=6964493066838329992' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6964493066838329992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6964493066838329992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/03/holy-crap-batman.html' title='HOLY. CRAP. BATMAN.'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-977214302253802351</id><published>2008-03-05T09:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T10:13:12.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all down hill from here.....</title><content type='html'>8:00am My first patients comes shuffling through the door with her walker and plastic bag covering here new hair do. She is about 70 and can hardly move. She has a hump on her back and toots every time she takes a step....pleasent....As she makes her way over to my desk she reaches into her gym bag. Yes, she has started to lug around a gym bag with her everywhere she goes. She keeps it filled with magazines on animal rights, Greek recipes, and random literature. Because you never know when you may run into a hungry Greek man looking for literature on hearing aides who also is ill informed on the growing rates of animal kill shelters....... whheww....anyway getting off topic here.....so she rummages into her large bag of crap and pulls out a copy of a article from a magazine hands it to me and says..."I think this will do you some good". So as with the other pamphlets I receive I toss it on my desk stick her in a room and head back to see what she brought in....I started reading it and it is all about how I have reached my peak in life at age 21 and its all down hill from here.....WOW this is exactly what I want to be hearing while half asleep and a little hungover from a long night of guitar hero and drinks with friends. The article goes on to say that I am loosing flexibility and my bone mass is already depleting. It said my brain is loosing fluid around it and my memory will start to decline in a few years......??????....What the hell. It said that by age 20 your calcium levels start dropping, and I should be taking supplements. Supplements I'm freaking 21 i don't need to be taking supplements. Next it will be saying I need to start drinking boots or ensure. If that isn't goddamn depression I don't know what is. There was also a lot of other crap in their that I really couldn't choke down that early in the morning. I shredded the article and went to the gas station up the road to get a vitamin water, because you know now that I'm becoming an old hag I should try and get vitamins anywhere I can. Upon my return back to work I called my mom told her the lovely news, and asked her if she wanted a copy....hehehe. When the old lady came out and asked me what I thought I said "Helen, that was too goddamn depression for 8 in the morning. I would much rather of gotten another freaking baklava recipe"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-977214302253802351?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/977214302253802351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=977214302253802351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/977214302253802351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/977214302253802351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-all-down-hill-from-here.html' title='It&apos;s all down hill from here.....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2727373169229070840</id><published>2008-02-29T16:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T17:22:59.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick update</title><content type='html'>I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a few emails asking why I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; posted in awhile...people wondering if I am dead. Well I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;in fact&lt;/span&gt; not dead and very much alive. No need to fret people. SO I will give you a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Little&lt;/span&gt; update of what has been going on lately.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paintball....Is right up there with dodge ball, cruel and just plain mean. Dave and I played over the past weekend. These were the thoughts running through my head at the time- 1. why would you want to shoot your friends. - 2. If I curl up into a ball maybe they will feel bad for me and not shoot me - 3. why the bloody hell does my mask keep fogging up and I cannot see anything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;li&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;terly&lt;/span&gt; nothing. -4. where the hell is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dave&lt;/span&gt; so I can shoot his ass up for dragging me here. - 5. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;IM&lt;/span&gt; OUT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'M&lt;/span&gt; OUT!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;DON'T&lt;/span&gt; SHOOT!!!! ...as you would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; figure this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; end well for me... 50 cents go nothing on this Bi-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;atch&lt;/span&gt; I got shot over 10 times and I am alive to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soccer mom had a nervous break down in the middle of the waiting room at work...Full blow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Brittney&lt;/span&gt; spears moment.....crying laughing screaming...THEN!!!! I got her into a room &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Joe&lt;/span&gt; went in to start treatments he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;opened&lt;/span&gt; the door and she was standing there in nothing but her birthday suit...butt ass &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;naked&lt;/span&gt;. She then looked at him and said does this look good to ya?????? She flashed her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;VA&lt;/span&gt; jay jay.. Joe muttered a slew of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; and left the room....I don't think she'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;becoming&lt;/span&gt; back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Dave&lt;/span&gt; has been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;OBSESSING&lt;/span&gt; about buying some sort of plant for the apartment. He has never ever showed any interest in plants or nature for that matter so I am a little confused. I picked up a shamrock plant and he told me that in fact it was not a plant just a ploy for me to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;keep&lt;/span&gt; his polish roots down and rub my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;irishness&lt;/span&gt; in his face........?????????..... Yea.. sure bud, what ever you say I all about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;suppressing&lt;/span&gt; your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;polack-ness&lt;/span&gt;..... he cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a very exciting fun filled weekend.....and sadly it does not include a bottle of The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;CAPTAIN&lt;/span&gt; or margaritas. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;CURTAIN&lt;/span&gt; SHOPPING....oh yea... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going crazy.... but you can bet your ass I wont be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;paint balling&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Dave&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2727373169229070840?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2727373169229070840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2727373169229070840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2727373169229070840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2727373169229070840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/quick-update.html' title='Quick update'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-242094101830282282</id><published>2008-02-29T15:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:25:58.344-04:00</updated><title type='text'>she's might mighty just letting it all hang out.</title><content type='html'>Quick recap of the day....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soccer mom has full blow britney spears like break down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after getting her to stop crying/laughing hystarically I get her into a room. She proceeds to get on her cell phone, and verbally attack the poor time warner cable people about over charging her for her monthly service.....becasue ya know now is a great time to take care of that. I leave her in the room with some water and a box of tissues.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crying stops...all I hear is a long stream of sniffles from my desk...Joe enters her room to start her treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door slams....and a slew of chinese cursing is heard from down the hall....*great*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Bee-otch takes her pants off and flashes joe her va jay jay....I gurantee she doesn't come back again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-242094101830282282?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/242094101830282282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=242094101830282282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/242094101830282282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/242094101830282282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/shes-might-mighty-just-letting-it-all.html' title='she&apos;s might mighty just letting it all hang out.'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2966191152835974332</id><published>2008-02-18T11:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T11:58:15.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hold on is today Friday???</title><content type='html'>So, I woke up in a hurry.  Ran into the bathroom started getting ready (without my glasses on, because I fell asleep with them on so they were lost somewhere in the abyss of blankets and pillows.) Smeared on a little make up threw my hair up in a claw got dressed and ran out the door.  Got to work oh about 10min late...hmm not too bad. Im  doing my usually routine surfing the web getting rooms and charts together, and I notice that some patients are giving me some strange looks. nothing out of the ordinary I thought so I continue on with my morning. Joe was late also so I barely saw him at all this morning.  so about 20 mins ago one of my favorite patients came in, and yes I can have favorites and give them special privallges, because frankly the rest of these people that come in are rude and piss me off.  She is an 80 year old lady who does karate and is just so wonderfully cute you want to pick her up and squeeze her until she pops. I restrain my self from doing this becasue, I figure it would be frowned upon.  She reminds me alot of my marney (my great grandmother, who was a 4'10 ball of fire that could light up a room) Anyways she comes and sits next to me at my desk takes one look at me and yells "Oh my sweetpea what did you do to your nose? did someone hit-cha want me to teach ya a few moves" and Im all what are you talking about.....So i get up look in the mirror and sure enough....I have one of those breathe strip things on my nose that I forgot to take off from last night, because I woke up in a hurry, and couldn't find my glasses making me totally blind....It was like one big domino effect...and FYI those breathe strips are a total piece of crap....they dont do anything.  I was still all stuffy when I woke up this morning... can't wait to see what else the day shall bring&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2966191152835974332?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2966191152835974332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2966191152835974332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2966191152835974332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2966191152835974332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/hold-on-is-today-friday.html' title='hold on is today Friday???'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-4008833719349276068</id><published>2008-02-15T16:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T17:20:04.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>strike 3 your out</title><content type='html'>Over the past few weeks I have had some issues while at our lovely local gas stations. &lt;br /&gt;       A few weeks ago I went to quick fill a full service gas station where they pump it for you...Sweet luxury if you ask me.  So I see the mile long line and the one poor guy working the pump. Annoyed, but this does not deter me, the thought of getting out in the sub negative temperatures is enough to make you cringe. So I get in line behind all the other cold lazy SOB's and patiently wait for the creepy dude. Once it is my turn to pull up I roll down the window and politely ask for 20$. He obliged and started to fill it up...then walked away to get a few other cars going.  After a while he comes back...and I got out 25$ (5$ for a tip) and he said 52$....."....well here ya go have a good night stay warm I say" I figured that he had just gotten me confused with another car so I gave him a wad of cash and went on my merry way.  The further I got down the road the higher my little gas needle climbed. By the time I got home it was full. I contemplated heading back but in the end I decided that I am a nice person and deserve a break once and awhile in life. (I have not been back to this gas station since in fear that they will get me.)&lt;br /&gt;Fast-forward a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;     I pull into the Hess in the freezing cold snow storm (I would normally got to quick fill but ya know...) and I stick my card in the pump.... it doesn't read it, and tells me to make my FIRST trip inside.... The incompetent blonde dirty girl says, "Give it another go." FINE...back out I go. I get to the Pump and nothing...BACK INSIDE I go. "Well how about you prepay" where her words of wisdom. FINE. 20$ dollars on my bank card......back outside. I start to pump and then it stopped every 10 cents. What the fuck??...Back in the goddamn Hess station......."ITS NOT WORKING" "ok well pick a different pump she says" "FINE" and I stomp back outside... I pull ahead to the next pump Throw in 20 bucks and start to pull away......All of a sudden this crazy blonde mess comes running outside waving a phone in the air screaming at me. So I stop, she starts banging on the window...by this point I am praying too little baby Jesus to give me the strength not to beat her with my gas cap... "I’m gonna call the police you need to come inside and pay again ra ra ra ra" This retard FORGOT I PRE PAID.... So I had a little badger attack on her and let her have it...and after my screaming match with the gas station attendant she in formed that "This was strike one, and one more strike I will be banned from the Hess." Like there aren’t 4 other gas stations on this road. A real big loss to me here. I called her crazy whore got back in the car and was on my way home.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-4008833719349276068?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/4008833719349276068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=4008833719349276068' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4008833719349276068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4008833719349276068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/strike-3-your-out.html' title='strike 3 your out'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-4512870309559668010</id><published>2008-02-13T12:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T14:59:04.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>shhhh....</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-423e2e3c6591814d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D423e2e3c6591814d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330367090%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D23C5C0D7D4D572AA09BFDD449E9EFC564B522B81.28B14476F773407264D554CE4A623F4E807B78BE%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D423e2e3c6591814d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQx1hGwCAt0GIg1hycMxR0uWSO0A&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D423e2e3c6591814d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330367090%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D23C5C0D7D4D572AA09BFDD449E9EFC564B522B81.28B14476F773407264D554CE4A623F4E807B78BE%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D423e2e3c6591814d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQx1hGwCAt0GIg1hycMxR0uWSO0A&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Krikey, we have just spotted the North American white boy doing his unusual mating dance. You must not be to loud so we don't startle him. The North American White Boy or I like to refer to him as N.A.W.B. He enjoys burger king meals KING SIZED, Beer, and video games. His dislikes include spiders any form of housework and all reality shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how he would feel if he knew I posted this video of him I secretly taped. hahahaha. This is what he gets for not reading my blog. Don't ya love the dance clothes? hahaha I have a few others to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-4512870309559668010?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=423e2e3c6591814d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/4512870309559668010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=4512870309559668010' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4512870309559668010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4512870309559668010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/shhhh.html' title='shhhh....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-8809996618265498018</id><published>2008-02-11T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T15:22:28.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel pretty, Oh so pretty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/R7CudNcPKtI/AAAAAAAAADI/502965aYN1M/s1600-h/mirror.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165820589441493714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/R7CudNcPKtI/AAAAAAAAADI/502965aYN1M/s320/mirror.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/R7CP9NcPKsI/AAAAAAAAADA/OomkNV2HQ5o/s1600-h/0210082239[1].JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165787054336846530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/R7CP9NcPKsI/AAAAAAAAADA/OomkNV2HQ5o/s320/0210082239%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is pretty Mirror I picked up at Target from their global bazaar collection for like $40.00. I love the starburst design and the shawdows the mother of pearl circles casts on the wall. I even hung It up all by myself......3 screws and 5 holes later it was up. Im sure the neighbors upstairs appreciated the thud of the electric screw drviver slamming into the wall and the cursing everytime I attempted a new screw. Dave HATES it, oh well. I guess I would be questioning our relationship if he got as gitty about it as I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-8809996618265498018?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/8809996618265498018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=8809996618265498018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8809996618265498018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8809996618265498018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-feel-pretty-oh-so-pretty.html' title='I feel pretty, Oh so pretty'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/R7CudNcPKtI/AAAAAAAAADI/502965aYN1M/s72-c/mirror.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-3973987527926232091</id><published>2008-02-08T15:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T12:50:25.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Local Yokel</title><content type='html'>As any other friday starts I am sitting at my desk surfing the latest gossip news when this old farmer-esk man came barreling in the door like a tornado. He was a tiny little man about 70 with a scruffy beard and an accent that remsembled someone right out of the show king of the hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The name is WILLY, put ER there sweetheart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the love of god here we go....it must be friday I think to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now-a I done got this here paper from the lawyers down in the big city buildings"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(reffering to binghamton..big city...ha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took a gander at his paper work...this hillbilly talk is contagious)....once I told him that his appointment here was canceld a week ago he rambled off into a slew off "WELL-a god dang im gonna takem them there guys and im gonna god dang punch-em in-dar slick hair style did heads....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you go with your bad self WILLY"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and just like that he spun out of here muttering to himself under his breath how he was gonna take em city boys and go like dis er er errr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-3973987527926232091?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/3973987527926232091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=3973987527926232091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3973987527926232091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3973987527926232091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/local-yokel.html' title='Local Yokel'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-6956675456502588619</id><published>2008-02-06T11:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T11:36:46.684-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how YOU doing</title><content type='html'>Out with my brother last night...and we went to the drive through window at Taco Bell.....(mmmm quesadillas)..... We pull up to the window after what seemed like an eternity of waiting for my crispy little pocket of love....(mmm quesadillas).... he looks at the man and says...."Well, what took so long&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; junior&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost it laughing...You know the kind, the silent shaking tear filled hope you dont pee your pants kind of laugh.  He is his funniest when he does not try.  The kid cracks me up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon dropping him off he sits in my passenger seat he lets one ripp, looks at me and yells "how YOUUUU doing"?...and departs from my car. Ah yes, family....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-6956675456502588619?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/6956675456502588619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=6956675456502588619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6956675456502588619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6956675456502588619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/how-you-doing.html' title='how YOU doing'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-4572292281235298287</id><published>2008-02-04T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T11:38:51.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Further More</title><content type='html'>I was persuing my usual news this morning... Perezhilton.com tmz.com cbsnews.com news.yahoo.com and the BBC news when I cam across a story on the BBC about the British...these are my people..as are the Irish....but anyway They polled 5,000 (british people in england) people and asked them questions....they asked if they thought CHRUCHILL was real or a myth.....and 47% said myth................... more then half thought sherlock holmes was real??? really people are you kidding me? If my great grandfather (POP) was alive he would have had a heart attack when he heard this, and then he would have written a strongly worded letter that would come to an end with the words "further more" . Really Britian are you serious. I am a little embarressaed here for my people...all I can say is atleast Im not polish. (sorry dave)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-4572292281235298287?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/4572292281235298287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=4572292281235298287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4572292281235298287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4572292281235298287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/02/further-more.html' title='Further More'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-5673270072529870083</id><published>2008-01-30T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T12:34:52.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Death of a Salesmen</title><content type='html'>The local News paper can take there adds and shove them up there ass as far as I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;concerned. They are so pushy and I so easily take the bait, and they have figured it out. They have been praying on me like a a big mean shark and a cute little baby seal. I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hiding&lt;/span&gt; from them today... I walked out to my car to go pick up lunch...and the pushy salesmen dude was sitting there in his little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;green&lt;/span&gt; caviler...he didn't notice me, sweet. But then I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;panicked&lt;/span&gt; got out of my car, because I thought he would see me in my car and get out and try and corner me. I also didn't want him knowing what type of car I drive.....he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; to of seen me get out though, now that I think about it I must have looked like an idiot...I totally played it off like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ohh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;mann&lt;/span&gt; I forgot my keys I better run back inside and fetch them... So I slipped through the back jack...and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;conveniently&lt;/span&gt; timed it so I went out the back door again as he came in the front...while all this was going down &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Joe&lt;/span&gt; was sitting at his desk asking me "what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; hell is going on???" "Are you back yet u have my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;peperchonie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pizza&lt;/span&gt;.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;dat&lt;/span&gt; was fast" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; I was all "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;SHHHHHhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;boss man&lt;/span&gt; quiet down" then I popped out the back door at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;precise&lt;/span&gt; moment he entered the front...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Joe&lt;/span&gt; almost blew my cover opening the door and yelling to me why you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;runn&lt;/span&gt; Ash-a-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ree&lt;/span&gt;??? I then got to my car put it in reverse and started to back out of the parking lot ALL OF A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;SUDDEN&lt;/span&gt; (DA DA &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;DAAAAAA&lt;/span&gt;) The Garbage Men Stopped right at the end of the parking lot blocking the driveway...I was trapped....so in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Ashley&lt;/span&gt; fashion, I got out of the car walked my self right up to that stinky truck and told them to move it. Just as I pulled out he came strolling out and waved me over...I pretended like my phone rang and didn't notice him AH HA! Ashley 1 Salesmen 0...... Maybe next time buddy, but not today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-5673270072529870083?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/5673270072529870083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=5673270072529870083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5673270072529870083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/5673270072529870083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/death-of-salesmen.html' title='Death of a Salesmen'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-3116960594302996445</id><published>2008-01-28T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T17:13:20.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Papa's Got A Brand New Bag</title><content type='html'>-----Conversation with my roomie last night after he got home from work-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him " Whats all this crap" (referring to all the "crap" I had boughten earlier that night while he was at work...he he he)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me "Oh just some more stuff I unpacked"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him "YOu went shopping, this is new stuff....look this is still in plastic "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ".................."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him " we dont need anymore crap"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me "this isn't crap its stuff I have had a wicked long, that thing in plastic was from christmas, it was a present"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him " ohh well its nice"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......he goes in the kitchen and starts to make something to eat and all of a sudden lets out a boysterous " AH HAaaaaaa.......new my ass, here is the box that UGLY mirror came in and more pastic from that new whatever that funky thing is...u are a pathalogical liar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me" Oh yea maybe i did buy that stuff....I forgot...Love ya Babe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him "........you think u know a person......now make me some food woman"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me " GOOD LUUUCK"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-3116960594302996445?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/3116960594302996445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=3116960594302996445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3116960594302996445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3116960594302996445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/papas-got-brand-new-bag_28.html' title='Papa&apos;s Got A Brand New Bag'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2769372347064464868</id><published>2008-01-28T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T12:41:05.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just DANCE!</title><content type='html'>Dance Dance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Revolution&lt;/span&gt; 2 is taking over my life. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;addicted&lt;/span&gt;. I can't get enough of this game. I am a Dancing fool, and proud of it. Saturday night started it off when we had an OLD SCHOOL DANCE OFF... let me just tell you... it was even more fun then it sounds. I will be uploading some video I took. Dave kicked my ass...I just don't have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;coordination&lt;/span&gt; I guess. I also was trying so hard not to pee my pants from laughing....this could have thrown my game off a bit. SO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dan&lt;/span&gt; (my brother) come over and see if he was up to the challenge... He beat me to.. BUT, when it comes to speed and agility.......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; the champ...I dance DANCED to the bangles walk like an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Egyptian&lt;/span&gt; (don't pretend like you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; talking about) I did all the steps in 30seconds.......I set a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;goddamn&lt;/span&gt; world record with that one. They should put me in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Guinness&lt;/span&gt; book. So for all of you out there I dare you....no triple dog dare you to a dance DANCE challenge and try and beat my time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2769372347064464868?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2769372347064464868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2769372347064464868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2769372347064464868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2769372347064464868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/just-dance.html' title='just DANCE!'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2826806156912116322</id><published>2008-01-25T15:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T15:59:19.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means bitches!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I can't seem to get any respect around here from the patients. Did they forget who I am, I'm the GODDAMN OFFICE MANAGER &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; who I am bitches. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mannnnn&lt;/span&gt;, You can clearly see that I am on the phone with a patient, billing another one right &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;infront&lt;/span&gt; of me, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;taking&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Joes&lt;/span&gt; lunch order down...so is it really necessary to be standing there next to me going "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ashley&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ashley&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ASHLEYYYY&lt;/span&gt;!" For the love of god. You people are not small children. I am not your mommy, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; need me to hold your hand so go sit down and wait your turn, and maybe if your good I will give you a gold star for the day....... I also love the ones that will stand there and stare you down until you acknowledge them, even though you are with someone else at that particular moment. Then you have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;huffer&lt;/span&gt; and puffers, "Huhhhhhhhhhhh......SIghhhhhhhh.....errrrrrr" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt; maybe I should start &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;mimicking&lt;/span&gt; them so they can see how foolish they really look. If you are so busy in your life that you cannot take 30 secs to sit down, you should reevaluate some things. I am so sorry that you have shown up 25&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; before your appointment and expect to get in..I scheduled you at this time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; there wasn't anything available 25 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; earlier...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; not doing this to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(ear muffs grandma) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;fuck with you, or make your life a living hell. I am a nice girl most of the time unless you really piss me off, then i would have no reason to intentionally screw you over and schedule your acupuncture face lift treatment at the same time little billy and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;cindy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;lou&lt;/span&gt; get out of piano practice.....Some people walk in past me like they own the place and make a bee line right to the rooms. ???????? When the hell did that become acceptable? They are also vetoing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;cancellation&lt;/span&gt; policy for the new year. 24 hour notice or you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; at $20.00 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;penalty&lt;/span&gt; fee. Well....to start off when that sign went up it cause a HUGE uproar..&lt;br /&gt;"what if there is to much snow on the ground" " I get headaches out of nowhere" "what if the car breaks down" what if.... what if..... what if..... anything short of a death in the family you will be charged. Sorry about it, folks....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;life's&lt;/span&gt; hard wear a helmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels nice getting that off my chest...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2826806156912116322?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2826806156912116322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2826806156912116322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2826806156912116322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2826806156912116322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/r-e-s-p-e-c-t-find-out-what-it-means.html' title='R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means bitches!'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-4010695286395180555</id><published>2008-01-18T13:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T15:42:17.048-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Clarice....</title><content type='html'>Flipping &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt; man.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how I have told you all about my crazy fridays here at work, well this friday just got taken to whole new level...&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a phone call about 20mins ago from a women saying she was a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PSYCHOTHEREPIST....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(great)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; y&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ea so ok thats all well and find if you wanna help out all those crazys running around.....She tells me that she has a patient that could benifit from acupuncture....hmmm ok...she would like to set an appointment up for her patient to come down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refrain back to my classic deer in the headlights speechless look....."....." "could you hang on one moment I have another call I will be right back"&lt;br /&gt;I now look like a crazy running down the hall looking for joe to see what he thinks....and in classic joe fashion...."HAHAHAHAHAH dat funny...you so funny...hahahaha you cracka me up"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"joe, this is serious this is not just some normal crazy person..this is ceritfiable kookoo"&lt;br /&gt;"hahaha ash-a-lee you so funny...its ok i wil help him tell him to come tonight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does joe get that this person could be a real whackadoo? I don't think he gets it..im sick of dealing with crazys I dont need another one on my hands. so I get back to my desk pick up the phone. "Dr. thanks for holding, I can see your patient at 3:00 today. Is there anything we need to do to prepare for his visit??" "oh thats wonderful, nope nothing at all. I will have him escorted down then thanks for all your help...."&lt;br /&gt;....CLICK.....&lt;br /&gt;did she say &lt;em&gt;escorted&lt;/em&gt;? holy crap batman...hannibal will be arriving in the office in less then an hour.....so to prepare, what measures have I taken you may ask yourself. I called my MOM. Her advice....."watch your fingers"&lt;br /&gt;Thanks mom. Thanks a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLease do not for one second think that I make this shiz-nit up, because I don't..I wish things got that boring around here...I tell it like it is.&lt;br /&gt;Hey Hey Heyyyyy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-4010695286395180555?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/4010695286395180555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=4010695286395180555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4010695286395180555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/4010695286395180555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/hello-clarice.html' title='Hello Clarice....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-1889902208460808190</id><published>2008-01-17T16:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T17:42:31.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen Geek of all the land</title><content type='html'>So today I found out Joe (the boss man) is Mongolian.......this explains a lot of his crazy outbursts and the intense amount of passion he uses when he speaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was designing the new brochures for us today to go to the printer Monday...Yea I had a few months to do it but procrastinating is just my style. Its crunch time and I am really cranking out a nice little unit, when he walks up to me and says..( you have to envision it with the thick Chinese accent)&lt;br /&gt;"You a geek yeah?!"&lt;br /&gt;me- ".........." blinks a few times....."uhh what?"&lt;br /&gt;Joe- " haha you know computer stuff you a geek right, you know the computer talk"&lt;br /&gt;me- (I was so appauld) "No,.. Joe I am not a geek,"&lt;br /&gt;Joe- " but you can do amazing things with all your computer talk that is a geek yeah, is that not right word geek"&lt;br /&gt;me - " stop calling me a geek!"......."the right thing to say is that I am queen fixer upper girl of all things in this office"&lt;br /&gt;Joe-"...." blinks....."hahahhaaha you a funny queen of geeks hahahaha"&lt;br /&gt;me-" yeah, Joe I'm queen of the geeks of all the land..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will probably get all kinds of hate mail from real geeks out there now. I am not saying being a geek is bad its just not for me. I am not posing as a geek, I have never claimed to be or tried to be one. so again no mean mail please, i support the geeks. They always fixed my computers and hooked me up with cracked programs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet your boss doesn't call you a Geek.............&lt;br /&gt;I should tell human resources about this....wait thats me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-1889902208460808190?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/1889902208460808190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=1889902208460808190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1889902208460808190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1889902208460808190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/queen-geek-of-all-land.html' title='Queen Geek of all the land'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2795242757766161509</id><published>2008-01-16T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T12:21:04.111-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I use to watch supermarket sweep....</title><content type='html'>ME and My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;roomie&lt;/span&gt; venture off grocery shopping for the second time together....I generally go alone and do it. I find it ends up being much cheaper this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:30pm we enter the giant...hungry (bad idea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost is never an issue to Dave when it comes to his food. It seems like whenever we enter a grocery store he morphs into a small child...he sees what he wants makes a loud &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;oooh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; sound and books down the isle to the first box of Chocolate cocoa turn your milk into fudge that may cause a diabetic coma cereal...Now you see here I was raised on cheerios &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wheetabix&lt;/span&gt; apple jacks and sometimes fruit loops only sometimes. So I get my box of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wheetabix&lt;/span&gt; he gets his "cereal" and all is well on the home front, until......We find ourselves standing in front of a sea of garbage bags not knowing what to do next...first off 6.00$ for garbage bags...$6.00 for something for me to stick trash in? I just don't get it, and did you know you cannot buy black bags for garbage... that was a 15min debate in the isle because I was all "The garbage men don't care what color your trash bags are"&lt;br /&gt;and he was " Yes, yes they do they wont take it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; they cant see whats in it." He won that great debate. There were so many other kinds to choose from. You have your standard bags, you got your supreme 20 gallon bags, flex force bags you can put a piano in. With handles/ without, &amp;amp; scented the list went on and on. In the end I opted to just take a roll from work. There was just to much pressure on me to commit to one type of bag.&lt;br /&gt;Finishing up our trip in the frozen food isle....we realize that our cart cannot hold anything else literally. I felt like Hansel and Gretel leaving trail of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;kool&lt;/span&gt;-aid packets, and granola bars behind us as we ventured threw the isles. I suggest that we hit the check out and get outta here....but he wants to get another cart. WHAT? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt; no way buddy this is probably like $250.00 in groceries right here lets just bounce before our check does. He is standing there looking at me like I have just run over his puppy or something. "but, but frozen food is my favorite food" he manages to get out before weeping openly next to the display of fish sticks.Fine i said get a few things that you will have to carry . "SCORE!" and  he runs down the isle like a chipmunk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;foraging&lt;/span&gt; for berries but in this case its mini pizzas, hot pockets, tater tots and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; dinners (YUCK). &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; stressing that we just have spent a small fortune on groceries where he stops in the middle of the isle and looks at me so sincere and says "babe...I use to watch a lot of supermarket sweep, right here were looking at $125.00 tops. I am really an expert when it comes to food. I wonder if that show is still running I should go on it. "&lt;br /&gt;"okay....you go with your bad self David &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;rrrr&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the check out and he is standing there with this dopey grin on his face looking at the register watching the total climb and peak towards $125.00......all together it ended up being $139.00 it was pretty close....not the sky high bill i was expecting. (you also have to consider we haven't gotten groceries in like 3 weeks) we start loading up the car and he goes "I'm hungry feel like some BK (burger king)...." "no you have 5lb bag of fish sticks and enough pizza rolls to last a year. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:45 we arrive home still hungry..... I think I will continue doing the shopping while he is at work. Im just thankful it was not free sample day...wheewww&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2795242757766161509?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2795242757766161509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2795242757766161509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2795242757766161509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2795242757766161509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-use-to-watch-supermarket-sweep.html' title='I use to watch supermarket sweep....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-8828373384817400945</id><published>2008-01-16T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T09:55:05.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Checc it out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Moldy Peaches - Anyone else but you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    New song Im digging.  download it give it a listen to you may be pleasently suprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-8828373384817400945?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/8828373384817400945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=8828373384817400945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8828373384817400945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8828373384817400945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/checc-it-out.html' title='Checc it out'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-3949387750344384627</id><published>2008-01-14T13:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T13:36:18.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Love of God..</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here at work  minding my own business ( hard to believe, but yes, I am)&lt;br /&gt;When in the distance I hear someone in a room screaming my name ASHLEY ASHLEY ASHLEY ASHLEY... It sounds like the fire alarms that use to go off at school....so I very hesitantly get up out of my chair and start down the hall to the room...open the door and ugly fat  usually naked dude is laying there on the table begging me to REACH INTO HIS POCKET AND GET HIS KEYS!...*cringggee*&lt;br /&gt;           "Uhhhh No, no thank you. no" was my kind reply&lt;br /&gt;          " But they are stabbing me in my thigh, and I cant relax. I need your help, just do it we are are all adults."&lt;br /&gt;           " NO I'm sorry maybe next time you will remember to take them out, but I do not put my hands in any ones pockets except my own" (or Daves when I go on a quarter hunt for the washing machine)&lt;br /&gt;             "ASHLEY,  just do it I'm sure you have been asked to do weirder things"&lt;br /&gt;"hmmm....yes but that does not mean I do them. Get comfy and don't think about it. Goodnight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now maybe if it were the cute B-sens hockey player that asked me to do I probably would have. But this guy is already on thin ice around here. He comes in with his mommy. and they are always fighting. he has whacked out Norman Bates Freudian issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A few weeks ago they were in here and he told me I was being eternally dammed to hell because I am living in sin with my boyfriend and Jesus hates sinners.  He also told me about his great  cult oohh oops i mean "church" he goes to that specializes in "saving people". He even wrote the directions down and said we could car pool. ohh wouldn't you like that mama's boy.  So i politely declined...He just wouldn't let it go.  He kept going and going about it....so I may have gone into badger attack mode.  After the 100th attempt to sign me up for his cult, no sorry "church" I said " Well maybe I should get a couple WWJD or Jesus Loves me bumper stickers slap them on the back of my car, like you have done and ride off into the sunset....and I will be right with the big man"..............  After a few empty blinks and picking up his jaw from the floor he said see you next Monday same time.  Looking forward to it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-3949387750344384627?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/3949387750344384627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=3949387750344384627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3949387750344384627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3949387750344384627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/for-love-of-god.html' title='For the Love of God..'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2924688390144221180</id><published>2008-01-07T12:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:51:39.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Affair</title><content type='html'>On a serious note....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things with my Dad are shitty they have been shitty for a &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;looong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; time.  We don't really talk, and that's not my fault. I tried. I tried many times. I eventually got sick and tired of trying to get my dad to like me.  I thought that was something that got embedded into you when you become a parent, your suppose to like your kid, and want to be there for them.  I have been able to cope with the fact things are not like that for us, and now i just kind of accept it.  I know he loves me, I think that its in there somewhere.  He would never wish me any ill will and I would never ever do that to him.  I think that he is coming to realize that things are so far gone for us  and  he doesn't know what to do to fix it.  I would like to think that he does want a relationship with me.  I am usually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with how things are between us. Well not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; but I can deal with it.  Except for now....He is having heart problems and has had very minor heart attacks but now he apparently needs bi-pass surgery.&lt;br /&gt;    ( I say apparently because he is the most honest person, and he does or says things to get a reaction out of people..usually to make them feel sorry for him. I don't feed into this kind of thing anymore.  He can be very manipulative when it comes to the people in my family.  Which is so crappy to say but its true. Its also really crappy that I don't no if I believe him about the surgery.  I may come off to you as some ungrateful bitch. but you do not know me or the situation I have been in. )&lt;br /&gt;      If this is as serious as it sounds then I really do hope that he can receive the care that he needs to better himself.  I don't want anything to ever happen to him. I just want to know he is there and he is okay.  I would like to eventually try again with my dad.  Just not now. Just not because its a holiday birthday or anything. It will have to be my own terms. before we try to reconcile some kind of relationship again. He would have to get some serious help for himself. physically and mentally. Because my head still hurts from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;repeatedly&lt;/span&gt; running into that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;brick wall&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2924688390144221180?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2924688390144221180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2924688390144221180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2924688390144221180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2924688390144221180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/handy-lady.html' title='Family Affair'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-3264147011540201020</id><published>2008-01-02T16:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T17:29:50.609-05:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome back, welcome back, welcome baaaaaack...</title><content type='html'>Where to begin...there has been a lot going on lately...&lt;br /&gt;New Position-- I hold the power now...well kind of I am now in charge of my little little office here...so what does that mean? you better be nice to me goddamn it or else I could do something...&lt;br /&gt;I also have my very own big girl apartment....whom I co habitat with my honey bun,  David RRRRR...yes he does sometimes think he is a pirate, but that is ok becasue our apartment  is half his. So when he decides to let his inner pirate out he goes to his half of the house...and all is well.&lt;br /&gt; I take great pride in the fact my first apartment is very nice and nothing that would resemble a crack house like many peoples first apartment. I am very lucky. It also smells really good inside, but seriously i cannot express how yummy it smells inside....I know you personally may not care what my house smells like, but if you were to ever come over you would really appreciate the fact that it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year! I hope "08" is better then "07" for me and you both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much i want to post I've got some good material for the upcoming week.......so stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-3264147011540201020?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/3264147011540201020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=3264147011540201020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3264147011540201020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3264147011540201020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2008/01/welcome-back-welcome-back-welcome.html' title='welcome back, welcome back, welcome baaaaaack...'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-1086235095302503898</id><published>2007-11-12T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T17:38:33.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and the mother of the year award goes to....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzjSgVN4i0I/AAAAAAAAACo/pHUqZaDVjDc/s1600-h/brit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132083228281703234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzjSgVN4i0I/AAAAAAAAACo/pHUqZaDVjDc/s320/brit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They tried to make me go to rehab but I said NO NO NO....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we say &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;crackhead. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate crackheads....you cannot trust them, they will inevitably steal your stuff&lt;br /&gt;and then sell it for crack. I've seen it happen a million times&lt;br /&gt;well...not in person, but I've seen my fair share&lt;br /&gt;of crackheads..anyway just a quick 30 second rant on crackheads&lt;br /&gt;and a priceless pic of miss Britney.&lt;br /&gt;(Brit should ask Santa for some cover girl, and a pair of undies this year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-1086235095302503898?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/1086235095302503898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=1086235095302503898' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1086235095302503898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1086235095302503898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-mother-of-year-award-goes-to.html' title='and the mother of the year award goes to....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzjSgVN4i0I/AAAAAAAAACo/pHUqZaDVjDc/s72-c/brit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-1154401387183331965</id><published>2007-11-09T14:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T15:59:17.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the spirt of giving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzTHHVN4iyI/AAAAAAAAACU/Nb3dSDlW65I/s1600-h/1109071329a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130944804250225442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzTHHVN4iyI/AAAAAAAAACU/Nb3dSDlW65I/s320/1109071329a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;(ear muffs grandma)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have just got myself some new backup here at work for when things get out of hand...&lt;br /&gt;His name is ronnie...he carrys a chainsaw and is so badass. He will keep all of you crazys away from me..well hopefully a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been getting some odd presents around here lately&lt;br /&gt;Today someone tried to give me a piano..Before that a patient was bringing me some homeade wine. Well it appread to be wine it was red and in a wine bottle, but it had some strange foriegn objects floating in it (mmmmm tastey), and an aroma that resembled something like an asian nail salon. Last week an old lady gave Therese (aka Marie Barone) some  lube, and not this kind that goes in a car...well Therese turned around and re gifted it to me (how thoughful) ...well today the same old lady gave me a bottle. Now I ask you this, Where is this 90 year old lady getting all this lube from. Second, why does she feel a need to hand it out like candy on halloween. Last but not least, what must the cashier at the store be thinking seeing this 90 yr old lady coming in buying lube on a daily basis.  Just something to ponder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-1154401387183331965?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/1154401387183331965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=1154401387183331965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1154401387183331965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1154401387183331965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-spirt-of-giving.html' title='In the spirt of giving'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yzFX8agSTQM/RzTHHVN4iyI/AAAAAAAAACU/Nb3dSDlW65I/s72-c/1109071329a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-8577859626353388436</id><published>2007-10-26T14:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T18:02:39.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazies, &amp; Crackheads, &amp; Bookies OH MY!!!</title><content type='html'>Just your average Friday around here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got your run of the mill crazy people, crackheads across the way, and bookies on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Friday tends to be the day when the proverbial shit hits the fan. It always starts with a crazy person not so much a crackhead...but oh no not today. Mercedes Man from across the way was parked in the parking lot, AGAIN...now let me start off by saying he has been warned before..Therese a.k.a Marie Barone decided one day to block him in his spot with her car and Joe's truck...this did not stop him...he somehow got in it...now how he got inside we will never know.. but one thing I do know is, you cant trust a crackhead. But don't get me started on those crackheads now...so I left a nasty note on his car. Out of the corner of my eye I see him watching me put it on, and then started walking towards me.."AHH!" I said, and ran inside like a little school girl...this all comes back to my theory of you cannot trust a crackhead..I didn't no what he was going to do/say to me so in my fight or flight response I flew..and I'm ok with that, not ashamed one bit. &lt;br /&gt;A few hours later...&lt;br /&gt;A bookie calls for the boss (how mafia-esk does that sound) and i did my standard..&lt;br /&gt;"He is not available at the moment, can i take a message?"&lt;br /&gt;"just put him on the phone, I know he is there" &lt;br /&gt;me-"UMmmm...he really isn't here"&lt;br /&gt;"Fine i will get in touch with him later...CLICK."&lt;br /&gt;These guys mean business..I don't want to piss them off, because i really like my kneecaps and plan on keeping them..&lt;br /&gt;Crazies....&lt;br /&gt;I have my far share of crazy people on a daily basis (please see Wednesdays blog), but because it is Friday there always seems to be a few of the real good ones thrown in the mix...one in particular is now crossing from the harmless crazy side, over yonder to the 5th floor harmful crazies. I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; and keep my distance, but since I'm a big giant *crazy magnet* they find me. She now has started to be sweet as sugar to everyone one else, but when we are alone (which i try to make sure never happens) The craziness lets loose and she goes off on these rambles that make no sense to anyone, not even herself so she inevitably ends up smacking her self in the side of the head..today was one of those moments...and again I refrain back to my classic deer in the headlights looked contemplating weather or not I speak or stay really quiet while still hoping that she doesn't see me, and goes away..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-8577859626353388436?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/8577859626353388436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=8577859626353388436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8577859626353388436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8577859626353388436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-your-average-friday-around-here.html' title='Crazies, &amp; Crackheads, &amp; Bookies OH MY!!!'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2931067616027785308</id><published>2007-10-25T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T21:26:03.507-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dis-FUN-ctional</title><content type='html'>A little peak into my evening..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come home and its pitch black, so dark it was probably lighter outside.&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Show yourself dammit, come out, man up...ok I'm sorry it was all my fault I will tell you what you want to know...come on pleaseeeee"( i didn't do anything i tend to crack under pressure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......silence me in the dark............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: "ok guys not funny anymore........I'M afraid of the dark...COME OUT!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...................Lights all come back on......circuit breaker tripped and everything including the stove gets shut off........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "uhhh hellooo.....mom....walt....anybody.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'm 21yrs old, and afraid of the dark...I'm also afraid of ghosts...the 2 go hand in hand it just makes sense to be afraid of both....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How i got roped into this is beyond me I had nothing to do with the antics of tonight..the lesson Daniel (my brother) has learned...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont screw with momma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2931067616027785308?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2931067616027785308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2931067616027785308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2931067616027785308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2931067616027785308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/dis-fun-ctional.html' title='Dis-FUN-ctional'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-389206641973285835</id><published>2007-10-24T15:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T17:47:06.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please forgive me but...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stop Talking&lt;/em&gt;!...&lt;/span&gt;I wish I could say this to people without looking like a complete and total bitch.&lt;br /&gt;There are some people out there that are 100% okay with telling you every intimate detail of their life. I'm sorry but eww lady I DO NOT want to hear about your affair with the trucker down in PA, and how his "lovin" makes your skin tingle for days...ew ew ew fun-kay. Ugh, seriously, stop talking...Apparently I am some kind of magnet to these "people". When in your odd shaped little head did it seem totally normal to blurt out the fact that&lt;br /&gt;"Hey last weekend we meet up at our spot and that truck was a rockin, and I got some great shots with my new digital camera!" (EWW!!)&lt;br /&gt;Ughhh...by this point I have put on my imaginary ear muffs over my ears scanning my desk for an object I could quickly and painlessly end my life at that particular moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whyyy are you still talking lady? Just stop, save yourself the embarrassment. The most insane part of this is, it's nothing out of the norm for her...to her it is not embarrassing nor is it considered poor taste...eww she is still talking...If she talks to me like this could you imagine what she may discuss with her co-workers, or a hair dresser for that matter....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she has stopped..and now I am sitting here like a deer in the headlights racking my brain with something to reply to all this......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fake cheesy grin and.. "Will it be Cash Check or Charge?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-389206641973285835?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/389206641973285835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=389206641973285835' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/389206641973285835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/389206641973285835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/please-forgive-me-but.html' title='Please forgive me but...'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-7904423112273574719</id><published>2007-10-23T20:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T16:28:16.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>brake, Brake, BRRRAKKEEE!!!!</title><content type='html'>Teaching Daniel(my brother) how to drive....Wouldn't it be stellar if the passenger side of the car had a brake peddle....Well it would have came in handy today.....I don't know why he finds it necessary to brake at the LAST possible second before coming up to a vehicle...You see, before he was slamming on the breaks when a car 2 blocks ahead of us was making a right turn. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Of course &lt;/span&gt;I then had to open up my big mouth and told him to stop breaking. I seriously didn'nt think that he would take it literally and not stop until our bumper was kissing the ass end of every Soccer mom out there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result of this I look like a crazy person in the passenger seat stomping my foot on the floor of the car where my "imagenary brake peddle" is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when all of you out there in blogger land are saying your prayers tonight to little baby jesus, ALah, buddah, whoever....say a little prayer for poor @shley out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-7904423112273574719?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/7904423112273574719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=7904423112273574719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7904423112273574719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7904423112273574719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/brake-brake-brakeee.html' title='brake, Brake, BRRRAKKEEE!!!!'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-383761344389546703</id><published>2007-10-22T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T16:40:16.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hands off ladies he's all mine</title><content type='html'>So when they say that "The honey moons over" they mean it....Fast forward 5 1/2 years &amp;amp; it's way out the door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get into bed and my first mistake last night was......&lt;br /&gt;Merely saying "Honey bun I'm freezing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied with.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really i can take care of that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all of a sudden a rumble that could be heard ricashaing through the hills erupted in my bedroom...that sound you guessed it a monstrous fart that my man let rip..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH MY GODDD!!!!!!!!! why did you do that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh that I call it a little global warming...don't you feel better, didn't it warm the bed up...you can feel the difference can't you. No need to thank me babe, anytime"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well the next time you feel a little global warming coming on give me a warning to prepare"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes ladies he is all mine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-383761344389546703?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/383761344389546703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=383761344389546703' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/383761344389546703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/383761344389546703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/hands-off-ladies-hes-all-mine.html' title='Hands off ladies he&apos;s all mine'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-1310739100352532904</id><published>2007-10-19T00:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T13:35:56.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Son of a Bitch Ass Toeeee........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Son of a bitch ass TOEEEEEeeeeee..............&lt;/span&gt; Can be heard lingering throughout my house daily... I have a problem. I'm a chronic toe stubber/breaker/basher/smasher any way you say it i beat the living crap out of my poor piggies daily. It isn't even on purpose. I'm such a klutz and extremely accident prone&lt;em&gt;( i get this from my momma, this women was putting dishes away and cut her self with a spoon). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have broken both big toes...1 due to a hard core stubbing during double overtime beerpong  and the other well due to my own stupidity.....trying to kick your brother in &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;(ear muffs grandma)&lt;/span&gt; the twig and berries not so smart, because inevitably he will try and block you with his boulder like kneecaps resulting in a painful embarrassing break....try explaining that one to the doctor and the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; other nurses he brings in to hear the story..Good one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have kiddie toes on my grown up feet its bizarre and yes there will be a picture to come.... stay tuned&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-1310739100352532904?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/1310739100352532904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=1310739100352532904' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1310739100352532904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1310739100352532904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/son-of-bitch-ass-toeeee.html' title='Son of a Bitch Ass Toeeee........'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-3117171748119005257</id><published>2007-10-18T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T13:25:58.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no post</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I'am Baaaaccckkkk.........................&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It has been many days since my last post. THe reason for this is simple....I got yelled at by my grandma for it......apparently Edward forty hands didn't sound appealing to her....Stunned I know, so was I. Posts will return to a regular basis &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-3117171748119005257?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/3117171748119005257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=3117171748119005257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3117171748119005257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/3117171748119005257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-time-no-post.html' title='Long time no post'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-1508666502805895647</id><published>2007-07-24T02:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T13:37:17.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh happy Day</title><content type='html'>8:00am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; on my way to the Dentist. Well to get technical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;endodontics&lt;/span&gt; office. So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sitting in the Dr. office waiting for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dreaded&lt;/span&gt; root canal..and they slip this little thing over my nose.....sweet sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jesus&lt;/span&gt;...It is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; all my cares float out the big bay window &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;in front&lt;/span&gt; of me..what may you ask is causing my abnormally happy pleasent mood......the laughing gas...its a beautiful thing....next time you are at the dentist give it a whirl....you can thank me later...never again will you care that a strange man (my new dentisit) having his chuby little hand crammed in your mouth whistling as he drills into you gums......oh happy day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-1508666502805895647?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/1508666502805895647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=1508666502805895647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1508666502805895647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/1508666502805895647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/07/oh-happy-day.html' title='Oh happy Day'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-2488095346075125786</id><published>2007-07-17T18:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T20:55:01.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cottage anticts</title><content type='html'>Edwards 40 Hands:&lt;br /&gt;Also known as 80 Ounces to Freedom or The 40 Challenge. This is a drinking game in which each player duct tapes a 40 oz. bottle of alcohal (usually malt liquor) to each of his or her hands and is not allowed to remove them until they've been consumed. Typically, before the alcohol has been completely ingested, the drinking party will need to urinate, smoke a cigarette, answer a phone call, or something similar, giving each participant an incentive to finish their alcohol as quickly as possible. This often leads to humorous scenes of similarly-handicapped players attempting to unzip others' pants or light cigarettes using teeth, feet, or elbows. It can also be used as a "goal" for the game: to see who can abstain from these activities until they are finished with their drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes ladies and Gentlemen it has made it into the Wikipedia....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the start to my weekend at the cottage....good times..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-2488095346075125786?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/2488095346075125786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=2488095346075125786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2488095346075125786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/2488095346075125786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/07/edwards-40-hands-also-known-as-80.html' title='Cottage anticts'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-8806764831849656154</id><published>2007-07-15T12:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T13:54:01.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Priceless</title><content type='html'>1 bottle of Vodka $26.99&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1Bottle Tequila (ole!) $12.47&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Bottle of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Captain&lt;/span&gt; $14.72&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Buckets of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Margatitaville&lt;/span&gt; Margarita mix $12.49&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories at the cottage and friendships that will last forever priceless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going up to the cottage for a few days where we will party with my good friend The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Captain&lt;/span&gt;, and his friends Mr. Smirnoff, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mexican&lt;/span&gt; (Jose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cuervo&lt;/span&gt;) and after all this the Dr. may make a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;appearance&lt;/span&gt;. A guest list to impress tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Yesterday&lt;/span&gt; My brother (The ape like one without his license) decided that he &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to call into work BECAUSE....he did not have a ride...due to the fact i was asleep and he has learned not to wake me up for this particular reason, but come on are you kidding me...how he still has a job is beyond me..lets get serious for a minute we live on the SAME street he works on.....now it's not like next door it is maybe 1/4 of a mile. God for bid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bubba&lt;/span&gt; has to walk somewhere. That really annoyed me for some reason....you know what i else i hope he is reading this now...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; enough of that off to the cottage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; i miss work for a good reason here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-8806764831849656154?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/8806764831849656154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=8806764831849656154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8806764831849656154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/8806764831849656154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/07/1-bottle-of-vodka-26.html' title='Priceless'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-6724511725369507178</id><published>2007-07-13T12:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T13:46:01.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PEPPER-CHONIEEE</title><content type='html'>I work at a Dr.'s office. Well although he is not a Dr. this is an office &amp;amp; he wears a lab coat. Right now you are probably envisioning some strange smelling sleazy looking back alley clinic where crack heads get 2 for 1 deals on happy pills...I promise you this is not like that...We &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; however sell &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Happy pills&lt;/span&gt; for kids. My boss is from China and works in Chinese medicine. He has a very thick accent with a chronic case of the munchies....So this is how my typical day goes here.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:45&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe (this isn't his name just what he likes to be called)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"Hey are you hungry yet"&lt;/span&gt; (you must envision this with an accent to get the full effect)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope not yet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"Yeah me neither"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:55&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"I am Starving man, all i can think about is that good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pepperchonie&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"it's not even noon and your thinking about pizza your crazy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hahahahahaa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ima&lt;/span&gt; going to order"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"go with your bad self then Joe"&lt;br /&gt;...30 seconds go by and i hear screams from his office..nothing new but i &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; to go and investigate...i walk in and he is jumping up and down chanting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pepperchonie&lt;/span&gt; Pepper-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CHONIEEEEEEEE&lt;/span&gt;..i take the phone from Joe and calmly say he would like a pepperoni pizza and hang up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"THAT'S WHAT I SAID &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;PEPPERCHONIE&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;PEPPERCHONIE&lt;/span&gt;!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Joe&lt;/span&gt; I Know" as I turn and walk out I hear the faint sound of Chinese cursing lingering in the distance, and cant help but wonder what the hell I have gotten myself into at this place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-6724511725369507178?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/6724511725369507178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=6724511725369507178' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6724511725369507178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/6724511725369507178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/07/pepper-chonieee.html' title='PEPPER-CHONIEEE'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3625640387611692841.post-7768201727976365288</id><published>2007-07-12T20:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T01:21:53.754-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello is this thing Onn....</title><content type='html'>I'm &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;@&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I live in NY. Not the &lt;em&gt;Sex and the City kind &lt;/em&gt;either&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;Upstate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blahh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.... I have a boyfriend named Dave he is wonderful and cute and funny....he can be a stinky cheese head at times..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have become what I inevitably never wanted to be....a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;townie.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I have had it embedded in me since birth to loathe the "The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Suny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Kids".Enough of that though.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Family consists of an &lt;em&gt;odd&lt;/em&gt; bunch...I have an ape like younger brother. He is ape like in a sense that he walks around all chest puffed out gloating in the fact that he towers a foot over me. Nice. He also does not have a drivers license nor a permit for that matter....Jesus Christ he is going to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 19 and his lone means of transportation is us (i.e me and my mom). And don't get me started on the fact that he doesn't ever give me any cash for gas..and when i do ask him because the car is on &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;and we are coasting down this hill praying to sweet baby Jesus that we don't run out, he reacts like i am asking him to donate a fucking a kidney...I'm like get over it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bubba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...this ain't no free ride &amp;amp; go into the "life isn't a free ride speech" that i am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;entitled&lt;/span&gt; to give him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;becuase&lt;/span&gt; of the fact i am older wiser and much more attractive that being said...he once gave me exactly the cost of 1 gallon of gas $2.75...and acted like it was goddamn Armageddon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom...She is the marshmallow to the this rice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;krispy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; treat called life. She holds it all together...most of the time..she does have tendency to reach her breaking point and preforms what we refer to as "The Hockey Move." I personally have never had to endure this. My brother on the other not so lucky. In my moms defense he was being an annoying little bugger that day. So she ran up to him and all I remember was him flinching (that was his first problem) she grabbed his shirt pulled it up over his back onto his head so he was immobile. Then proceeded to Karate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;chopp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; him up for a good 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; strait..this was a sight. Once free couldn't comprehend what had just hit him and they both fell over laughing hysterically..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes this is my family and I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; love them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3625640387611692841-7768201727976365288?l=isthisthingonn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/feeds/7768201727976365288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3625640387611692841&amp;postID=7768201727976365288' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7768201727976365288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3625640387611692841/posts/default/7768201727976365288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isthisthingonn.blogspot.com/2007/07/hello-is-this-thing-on.html' title='Hello is this thing Onn....'/><author><name>Ashley</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
