<?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-22039496</id><updated>2011-09-17T04:17:16.282-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home of "E"</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;BR&gt;
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&lt;BR&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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>522</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-6964575523341040964</id><published>2011-07-30T19:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T19:35:01.907-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dC-8g6WJdSU/TjSwvjbc7eI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/C8imIwhnbT8/s1600/Kiruna%2B1994.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dC-8g6WJdSU/TjSwvjbc7eI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/C8imIwhnbT8/s320/Kiruna%2B1994.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635323364758056418" /&gt;Kiruna 1994&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ki6kbnKtAA8/TjSwgu6EC9I/AAAAAAAAAHI/hAAlOVhCC1A/s1600/Lappland%2B1993.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 188px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ki6kbnKtAA8/TjSwgu6EC9I/AAAAAAAAAHI/hAAlOVhCC1A/s320/Lappland%2B1993.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635323110141201362" /&gt;Lappland 1993&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6964575523341040964?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6964575523341040964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6964575523341040964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6964575523341040964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6964575523341040964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2011/07/test-photos.html' title='Test Photos'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dC-8g6WJdSU/TjSwvjbc7eI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/C8imIwhnbT8/s72-c/Kiruna%2B1994.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-2090888882705957527</id><published>2010-11-14T13:59:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T14:16:48.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago a stray cat showed up at my parents' place. She was super friendly and followed my dad around everywhere when he was outside. Next thing I know, they've officially added the cat to the family. She got toys, food and a litter box. George is incredibly jealous and who wouldn't be? The cat lays in my dad's lap, runs all over the house jumping up where George can't go and generally gets more attention. George has even started trying to jump into dad's lap. Poor puppy. My brother is all ready to rescue George from the evil cat if he thinks George isn't getting enough attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned the need for rabies and distemper shots for the cat and getting her spayed would be a good idea too. They can't get her fixed yet though, because she ate a ton of rat poison a few weeks ago and it's basically an anti-coagulant. Thus, no cutting on the cat. They have to wait up to three weeks before they can even be sure the cat is even going to survive the rat poison anyway. My mom thinks the cat is already pregnant and I would laugh so hard if they discovered kittens some day soon. Did I mention I hate cats?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2090888882705957527?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2090888882705957527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2090888882705957527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2090888882705957527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2090888882705957527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/11/cat.html' title='Cat'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6540309427471245515</id><published>2010-11-04T20:30:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T20:31:50.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>File Under People Who Suck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/judithgriggs"&gt;Judith Griggs&lt;/a&gt; is an asshat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6540309427471245515?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6540309427471245515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6540309427471245515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6540309427471245515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6540309427471245515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/11/file-under-people-who-suck.html' title='File Under People Who Suck'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7689600080455444219</id><published>2010-10-17T23:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T00:02:29.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Horror</title><content type='html'>October is supposed to be the month of horror movies. Where are they? With the exception of the Twins/Yankees series, I've yet to see much of anything. Chiller works for some things but mostly they only show B-movies. Where are the classics? Boo cable channel programmers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, I'd like to continue documenting the neverending road trip. Sadly, it seems that even though I've got quite a bit of time, I never quite get around to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7689600080455444219?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7689600080455444219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7689600080455444219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7689600080455444219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7689600080455444219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/10/horror.html' title='Horror'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2912893603071437341</id><published>2010-08-15T20:16:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T22:32:32.376-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Neverending Road Trip</title><content type='html'>In early July, I got a call. The first words out of my mom's mouth were "Your dad says he'll take the dog." Lovely. After desperate pleas from my mother, I agreed to take her to a conference in Nashville. She'd been planning to go with a friend, but said friend's husband had open heart surgery the day before they were supposed to leave. I had to abandon my newly planted grass and make the long drive to Minnesota. Since it's summer, my usual hotel in the Black Hills was booked up and I took a new route through Montana to Miles City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.nowpublic.net/images/f5/b/f5b519c8f07a2263e242c170064907dc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 238px;" src="http://media.nowpublic.net/images/f5/b/f5b519c8f07a2263e242c170064907dc.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Montana route is a bit longer, but it doesn't involve the road to nowhere through South &amp; North Dakota, so...bonus! Also, Montana has much better speed limits and better scenery. I got up in Miles City and headed to the post office to renew my passport. A helpful man named Jim took my photo and helped me fill out the application. The renewal rates went up the following day, so I took the opportunity while I could. It's all about the planning, people. Then it was off through Montana and North Dakota's Badlands on a delightful road called a freeway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.civicimages.com/im/united_states/north_dakota/north-dakota-006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 346px; height: 260px;" src="http://www.civicimages.com/im/united_states/north_dakota/north-dakota-006.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I traveled across North Dakota and then sat parked on the freeway in Fargo. On a positive note, I didn't have time to get angry about the traffic because I was in the middle of a teleconference at the time. I learned on the radio that some smart construction person had closed two lanes instead of just one causing all sorts of problems. Anyway, at some point I made it across the bridge into Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/TGi8Tm9-9hI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sk08GbVANL0/s1600/Minnesota.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/TGi8Tm9-9hI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sk08GbVANL0/s320/Minnesota.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505857589524493842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, my mother and I left for the Twin Cities where I hit the library to do some work and pick up some reading materials. We spent the night in their apartment and took off the next day for the Amana Colonies - Best known for making lovely things like air conditioners. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/TGi8nu-SFvI/AAAAAAAAAGs/JBtx8aGL7x8/s1600/Iowa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/TGi8nu-SFvI/AAAAAAAAAGs/JBtx8aGL7x8/s320/Iowa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505857935270614770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at a very nice B&amp;B where the owner's husband had died just hours before our arrival. So dead guy downstairs, grieving family members and a broken internet connection. Not good. I felt incredibly awkward the entire two days we were there. We spent one evening in a bar with wifi so I could work and several hours the next day at the library so I could work some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we got to leave and got on I-80. This left me extremely frustrated since I live off of I-80 and had now driven about 600 miles out of the way to get back to it. Then we headed south where Missouri welcomed us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:WMl-axKN3EnpZM:http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l111/1985Z51CORVETTE/Oklahoma-Arkansas2007075.jpg&amp;t=1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:WMl-axKN3EnpZM:http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l111/1985Z51CORVETTE/Oklahoma-Arkansas2007075.jpg&amp;t=1" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued on to St. Louis where we briefly thought we had missed the Arch. My mother got quite upset about how I should have taken the other freeway when up ahead we saw the arch. Then we saw Busch Stadium. My mother wouldn't let me go to the game that night, so we continued on to Illinois.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://comps.fotosearch.com/comp/UNU/UNU132/welcome-illinois-sign_~u12831339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 223px;" src="http://comps.fotosearch.com/comp/UNU/UNU132/welcome-illinois-sign_~u12831339.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Worrying about rush hour St. Louis traffic, I didn't snap this picture&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We escaped Illinois to hit a massive storm in Kentucky. Should you ever encounter a little (okay, a lot of) rain in Kentucky, you're supposed to completely panic, turn on the emergency lights and pull over. I kept going. It wasn't like a tornado was heading our way. We finally got to Paducah where we spent the night before the thankfully short drive to Nashville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cache2.asset-cache.net/xc/73068988.jpg?v=1&amp;c=IWSAsset&amp;k=2&amp;d=EDF6F2F4F969CEBDBF1AD4282D093A46D6CAACEE8CD24F5E0F599079CD6B8A09"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 339px; height: 224px;" src="http://cache2.asset-cache.net/xc/73068988.jpg?v=1&amp;c=IWSAsset&amp;k=2&amp;d=EDF6F2F4F969CEBDBF1AD4282D093A46D6CAACEE8CD24F5E0F599079CD6B8A09" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Due to the rain and trying not to die, I didn't take a picture of this sign.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remainder of this tale to be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2912893603071437341?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2912893603071437341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2912893603071437341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2912893603071437341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2912893603071437341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/08/neverending-road-trip.html' title='The Neverending Road Trip'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/TGi8Tm9-9hI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sk08GbVANL0/s72-c/Minnesota.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-5994271710831483159</id><published>2010-06-27T15:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T16:08:14.625-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pineapple Makes It Better</title><content type='html'>I recently came into quite a bit of cash. While not a total surprise (my parents harassed me for over a week to go to the post office, so I knew something was up), having a nice sized check show up is always a good thing. Since I need to keep everything in a very liquid asset and nothing will really earn me decent interest, I decided to spend some (just to demonstrate its liquidity). And really, nothing says "I'm rich" like culinary experimentation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bought steaks and some marinade and commenced experimentation. The first time, I followed the instructions on the marinade and ended up with okay teriyaki steak. Last night I tried again. This time I messed around with the marinade using pineapple juice with a touch of vinegar for a kick. I'm happy to say it turned out really well. It also provided an excellent sauce which made the baked potatoes very tasty. This just goes to show that pineapple makes everything better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5994271710831483159?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5994271710831483159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5994271710831483159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5994271710831483159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5994271710831483159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/06/pineapple-makes-it-better.html' title='Pineapple Makes It Better'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7826107155951152484</id><published>2010-05-27T00:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T00:24:07.178-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Store</title><content type='html'>You know what's wicked awesome? When I don't have to drive 80 miles to pick up a new shower curtain liner. The Pamida store that's been promised to be built for years now finally opened last month. Wonder of wonders, I can now just run to the street instead of braving the mountains to pick up general household products. Excellent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7826107155951152484?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7826107155951152484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7826107155951152484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7826107155951152484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7826107155951152484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/05/new-store.html' title='A New Store'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7044836981715289322</id><published>2010-05-15T22:57:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T23:37:15.197-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Negatives in Social Networking</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since I blogged about anything. Seems Minnesota takes the need to blog out of me. But after six weeks in the land of very green grass and outdoor baseball, I'm back in the mountain time zone. I missed the grand opening of Pamida. So excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was gone, I read a couple of people's blogs that I found extremely interesting because one discussed how everyone seemed so happy while they were going through a tough time and the other one kind of proved my theory that people don't generally want to post about the negative things in their lives on Facebook, Twitter, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what was fascinating to me. When someone close to you dies, would you immediately be out there on a semi-public forum posting about it? Obviously, if you're using the network to spread word about the death/illness or whatever that's one thing, but for the most part, I think people generally don't want to put something negative out there. If I look at most people's Facebook page, I see how great life is for them: they got engaged, it's a girl!, the concert is fantastic, how wonderful their Twins seats are, etc. I don't see posts like "Flowers on the coffin match the deceased's classic Chevy. Very nice." or "Buried my grandfather today. The honor guard saluting the coffin while the Battle Hymn of the Republic played was ridiculously powerful." I don't think people want to share their painful moments with a bunch of people who are mostly acquaintances/coworkers and not close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might be hard if you're going through something awful to see how everyone else's life is seemingly wonderful. But I think a lot of those seemingly happy people might in fact be experiencing feelings similar to yours. The same week I read the post discussing feelings like this, it struck me because if you looked at my Facebook account all you'd know was that I was at Target Field (in some really awesome seats). What you wouldn't know is that I spent two days in Albert Lea attending the visitation and funeral for my uncle. So while it would appear everything was all sunshine and Twins in my life, the reality was quite different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know that I have a point here, just that perception is often quite different from reality. I wonder how many emotionally fragile people out there are driven further into depression and despair because they truly believe that everyone's lives are just so wonderful while theirs is so miserable? Twitter/Facebook have been credited with stopping several suicides, but could they actually be contributing to many more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7044836981715289322?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7044836981715289322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7044836981715289322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7044836981715289322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7044836981715289322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/05/negatives-in-social-networking.html' title='The Negatives in Social Networking'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4313781960986519684</id><published>2010-04-12T21:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T22:03:34.425-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Knew?</title><content type='html'>The last week has been a nice week for me. I survived an Easter weekend that involved many furry guests at my parents' house. Should anyone ask three dogs and two cats are a bit much for a small farmhouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baseball is back, Hardy has kicked ass, the Twins have been winning and despite the fact that half my pitching staff is on the DL, my fantasy team still managed to perform above expectations. Also, Yahoo Sports auto-drafted Jeter as my utility player. I love that in my fantasy world Derek Jeter is Nick Punto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also last week, I received a promotion. Since I work for myself, it's mostly symbolic because I can make my title Chief Awesome if I want, but I will take the significant increase in pay that came with the promotion. It is nice to receive recognition for the contributions I've made to what my dad refers to as my "fake" job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4313781960986519684?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4313781960986519684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4313781960986519684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4313781960986519684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4313781960986519684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-knew.html' title='Who Knew?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2516232086227679047</id><published>2010-03-25T03:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T03:27:36.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Commercials</title><content type='html'>I'm on a bit of a Hulu kick recently or rather a slight obsession with a certain actor. Good thing the shows are good. Anyway, I've sat through a ridiculous amount of the same commercials while watching the shows. I absolutely love when I get the option to see the 2.5 minute NuvaRing commercial because then I get my show uninterrupted. However, this commercial is seriously the most ridiculous thing ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It follows the typical MO for "As Seen on TV" products (i.e. make something very simple like shelling an egg seem absolutely impossible to do).  Anyway, this girl is talking with her friends about how she dropped her birth control pill on the subway (one pill) and the resulting chaos caused her to switch to NuvaRing. The story seriously cracked me up because she trailed around to pharmacists trying to replace her one pill and it! was! awful! I should not be analyzing this commercial, but all I could think was well just take tomorrow's pill. If it was her last pill then why couldn't she just get a refill and why hadn't it been refilled earlier than the day of her last pill anyway? Otherwise, just use another pill and then refill it later. They couldn't think up a better reason for her to decide a different method of birth control might fit her better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other commercial news, the Verizon "Big Red" commercial is seriously awesome. Someone at their ad agency had some love for the Big Red commercials of the past. The spoof is fantastic. "You'll surf YouTube on a horse while you use it" vs "Your fresh breath goes on and on while you chew it" and the visuals are spot on. SNL and others do spoofs all the time but it's really cool to see it done as an actual campaign.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2516232086227679047?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2516232086227679047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2516232086227679047' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2516232086227679047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2516232086227679047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/03/stupid-commercials.html' title='Stupid Commercials'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2105690416345041459</id><published>2010-03-13T19:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T19:17:20.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo</title><content type='html'>I've become a bit obsessed with my new shampoo recently. It's a special trial shampoo that I'm using as part of a customer trial. When I got it, the letter included asked me to give my first impression of the shampoo's scent which I thought was kind of strong and too cherry-ish. However, after actually using it, I decided I really like it. Plus, the shampoo leaves my hair feeling conditioned (I don't think there is any conditioner in it because they said to continue using regular conditioner, etc.). Anyway, now I really like this shampoo but I won't be able to buy it because it might never come to market. Even if it does, I'll never know since it's not like I'll ever know who the manufacturer is. Stupid trial.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2105690416345041459?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2105690416345041459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2105690416345041459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2105690416345041459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2105690416345041459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/03/boo.html' title='Boo'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8327284041118128744</id><published>2010-02-07T20:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T21:08:34.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever Happened to the Customer is Always Right?</title><content type='html'>So here I am with my nifty new laptop which I was shocked to find was shipped to me without a signature required. The UPS guy just dumped it on my steps and left. Umm...good thing I was home. Anyway, my internet provider has been blaming my old computer for the problems I've been having with my service and they'd be glad to "fix" my computer for $60. Whatever. I hooked my new computer up and shockingly, I have the same damn problem. Like I've been telling them, when the only way to get my connection back is to power cycle the radio, it's probably not an issue with my computer. I talked to them twice on Friday and finally convinced them to send someone out. She told me she thought they'd have "a truck in the area" on Monday. Right, your truck is two blocks away, dumbass. I can see your building from my deck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the favorite questions of my ISP was do I have a router. No, no I don't have a router. And I will not be getting one anytime soon. Would we like to guess why? Because freaking Amazon told me it couldn't ship to my PO Box and I would need to provide a physical address to ship to. Okay, I provided one for the nice UPS guy to drop something at my house. What shipping company did Amazon use to ship to my house? The US Postal Service. You know, the reason I have a damn PO Box is because the USPS does not deliver to my house. So I called India where I told them my product would not be arriving at my house because Amazon cannot comprehend the idea behind a PO Box. I must wait until the 9th when the package will not arrive and then call back to India so that they can ship me the item again. Hate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8327284041118128744?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8327284041118128744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8327284041118128744' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8327284041118128744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8327284041118128744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/02/whatever-happened-to-customer-is-always.html' title='Whatever Happened to the Customer is Always Right?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3969839476902779496</id><published>2010-01-31T17:49:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T18:06:22.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>I've been remiss in writing anything lately. Mostly because my life is pretty not interesting. However, I scored a massively good deal on a laptop thanks to my late night lifestyle and a brand new Sony VAIO laptop is on its way to my door. This paves the way for a most excellent outdoor office which I plan to take advantage of as soon as possible. And since it's been well into the 40s all week, that means as soon as I get the laptop and router set up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other not exciting news, I'm a bit obsessed with my grill. I seem to end up using it a lot because it makes some ridiculously juicy and tasty burgers. I had two today. Gracie, of course, is terrified of the grill. She gives it a wide berth every time she goes near it along with a suspicious look. It might jump out and try to eat her after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3969839476902779496?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3969839476902779496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3969839476902779496' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3969839476902779496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3969839476902779496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/01/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2810211183919713201</id><published>2010-01-01T23:47:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T00:02:10.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I take it back</title><content type='html'>2010 arrived with a call from the insurance company. In a delightful turn of events, they are sending me a check for $853 to fix my slightly damaged bumper. I'm going to have Keith take a look at the truck, but most likely I'll take the advice of the insurance adjuster and take the money and run. As my dad said, it pays for my trip about four times over. I was planning on giving myself a new laptop for Christmas anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm all for minor car accidents where there is no physical damage to myself or others and very little damage to my vehicle and the other guy's insurance company sends me money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I got a Christmas present from my parents that is quite useful. It seems my dad was paying attention when I mentioned my need of a grill. Though we've both looked at the 20 pages of instructions on how to put it together and are still debating whether I should attempt it by myself at home or whether we should assemble pieces of it here. Further complicating things is the fact that someone actually wanted to see my house this week (apparently the old the-house-is-not-clean-so-of-course-someone-is-going-to-want-to-see-it trick worked) so there is the small glimmer of hope that the housing market in the Valley may actually exist and my house may yet sell before everything goes to hell when my former employer goes under.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2810211183919713201?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2810211183919713201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2810211183919713201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2810211183919713201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2810211183919713201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-take-it-back.html' title='I take it back'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-368177166227478077</id><published>2009-12-18T23:45:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T00:46:19.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's just so wrong</title><content type='html'>Apparently, thieves have taken off with the "Arbeit Macht Frei" sign from Auschwitz. What the hell? Why? And how? That thing is heavy and large and iron and way up high. I mean, have you seen it? Where the hell would you hide it after stealing it anyway? The Poles need to get on finding it before someone melts it down or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an aside, I've always been bothered by fictionalized accounts of people in Auschwitz when they use the sign as something the individual walked under daily on their way to work. Yes, it's a recognized symbol of the camp, but the sign is in Auschwitz 1. The characters in the stories (and the vast majority of inmates in real life), based on described living and work conditions in these books, arrived at and were housed in Birkenau (aka Auschwitz 2) which is miles away. It's poor understanding and a lack of historical accuracy that gives holocaust deniers ammunition for their cause. It is often referenced in "historical" texts that the people saw the sign when getting off the trains and how cruel and sadistic they think it was to give people hope. No, no, no. Just stop if you don't know anything about it. Surprisingly, Wikipedia is on target with their reference. I should add that the sign appeared in other camps like Dachau and I have no idea who could see it there. I'm being specific to Auschwitz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hollywood hasn't helped matters. Spielberg decided that the actual barracks at the Birkenau camp weren't "right" and built new ones for filming Schindler's List. The historians that I met at the camp weren't real impressed by this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once wrote a paper about Holocaust denial and found it interesting that there are many things that are accepted about the Holocaust as fact that can be definitively proven as untrue. I don't understand the need to make things up when the truth was absolutely horrible. All it does is feed the flames of the deniers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway back to the stolen sign, I hope they're able to find it because a replacement would just lead to more protestations of denial of this genocidal atrocity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-368177166227478077?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/368177166227478077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=368177166227478077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/368177166227478077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/368177166227478077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/12/thats-just-so-wrong.html' title='That&apos;s just so wrong'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1493600506283356596</id><published>2009-12-13T15:59:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T16:21:44.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reason #65992221212454212154 Why Utah is Evil</title><content type='html'>So Monday morning I set off for the 500 mile drive to Las Vegas. It had snowed overnight and chain laws were up on Parley's so I stuck to the freeway knowing that the shorter route through Provo Canyon was most likely a disaster. Anyway, Utah is always a horrible, horrible place full of equally horrible drivers and on this trip they set out to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibit #1 - Man misses his exit. He stops right in front of me on an icy, snowy freeway and proceeds to back up to get back to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibit #2 - Man decides to make a U-turn across four lanes of interstate traffic. No joke, the idiot actually ended up facing the wrong way in the car pool lane. Then, since everyone had stopped to avoid him, he pulled out across all four lanes again and continued on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibit #3 - Bastard runs into me. The insurance lady asked me if I'd seen him coming. I was like yeah, but I thought he'd stop. Since I'd just driven the length of the massive storm that hit the country, it was most annoying that I'd driven through zero visibility conditions for 400 miles on a very snowy road and I get hit when neither rain nor snow was affecting the drive. It was quite sad too since I was only three miles from the Arizona border.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Utah drivers and roundabouts do not a good combination make. And roundabouts should just stay in Europe where they belong because we don't need them here and no one knows how to use them anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a slightly different note, I totally cracked up when the Las Vegas news was telling people to stay in and not take their lives in their hands by driving in the rain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1493600506283356596?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1493600506283356596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1493600506283356596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1493600506283356596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1493600506283356596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/12/reason-65992221212454212154-why-utah-is.html' title='Reason #65992221212454212154 Why Utah is Evil'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2916744281333878767</id><published>2009-12-03T18:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T18:08:34.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When the Site Goes Down...</title><content type='html'>So there I was working the other night when the entire site just disappeared. Clearly something was wrong. Since the entire business (and thus my paycheck) are dependent on the site being up, I was a bit upset. Plus, I like to get paid and I can't get paid if I can't work because the site's down. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, it was 3 AM and how comfortable would you be calling an IT guy you don't know to tell him that he needs to get up and fix things ASAP? Today I was happily enjoying being able to work when the site went down again. IT Guy sends an e-mail saying it blipped and everything is fine. Wrong. I can't do anything but he's on his way home and can't fix the problem for another hour. I hate server "upgrades". They never make anything better all they do is screw things up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2916744281333878767?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2916744281333878767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2916744281333878767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2916744281333878767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2916744281333878767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/12/when-site-goes-down.html' title='When the Site Goes Down...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4157702731021075486</id><published>2009-11-21T14:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T14:38:10.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How's this for a date?</title><content type='html'>My brother went out to some concert last night with his girlfriend. All seems normal right? However, his ex-girlfriend picked them up and drove them to said concert. Seems a bit awkward to me. (No, there is absolutely nothing going on between my brother and his ex. They are just really good friends - especially since she's been on the verge of death for the last couple years)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other random news, my credit card bill was under $300 this month. I consider this a massive triumph since my credit card is essentially a tally of all of my expenses. This includes my mobile, satellite and booksfree membership, as well as a $90 eye exam. I'm pretty sure I didn't buy gas last month, so the rest is groceries. That's it. I still wonder what exactly I was buying when I was averaging bills two to three times that each month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4157702731021075486?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4157702731021075486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4157702731021075486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4157702731021075486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4157702731021075486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/11/hows-this-for-date.html' title='How&apos;s this for a date?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-9049356294719432064</id><published>2009-11-15T01:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T01:10:24.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Caved</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to keep the heat "off" for as long as I could. Since there is no real off, I've had it at 48 (and yes, it has turned on a couple of times at 48). I don't think that counts. Yesterday, however, my hand was so cold while I was working, I couldn't deal with it anymore. I turned the thermostat up to 55. This is the ideal cheap temperature I've discovered because neither my nose nor my hands get cold at this temp. Go lower and they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, MythBusters tonight busted the myth of "Beer before liquor never been sicker". A lovely piece of take home knowledge. In fact, the hangover post beer and liquor was less (or non-existent) than the beer only hangover in their tests.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-9049356294719432064?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/9049356294719432064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=9049356294719432064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9049356294719432064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9049356294719432064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-caved.html' title='I Caved'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-712178973849637986</id><published>2009-11-10T22:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T23:02:20.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Coworkers Meet Reality TV</title><content type='html'>I work from home. I've never really "met" any of my coworkers other than talking on the phone, via email or over IM. This doesn't necessarily give me any idea about them other than their work ethic and minor personality traits. However, recently one of my "coworkers" was on the Amazing Race. She was kicked off really early in the show, but wow was it enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is now I just desperately want to tell her she needs to dump the boyfriend ASAP. What a complete jackass. At the end, even Phil (the awesomely hot host) was like, "Umm, is he always like this?" And now it's been revealed that they got engaged. Seriously, I don't know this person. I need to keep quiet, but it's so hard not to say "Runaway!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-712178973849637986?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/712178973849637986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=712178973849637986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/712178973849637986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/712178973849637986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-coworkers-meet-reality-tv.html' title='When Coworkers Meet Reality TV'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7787742640533501305</id><published>2009-11-07T02:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T02:18:14.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Conversations with My Mother</title><content type='html'>Saturday &lt;br /&gt;E: A called me today.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: He didn't ask for money did he?&lt;br /&gt;E: Oddly no. He wanted to convince me to come home for Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: That would be just stupid. You shouldn't come home. What is his problem?&lt;br /&gt;E: Apparently, the girlfriend was sad about not meeting me.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Oh, they're talking about family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Can you download this game, play it until you get to level 19 and then tell me how to pass it?&lt;br /&gt;E: No. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday&lt;br /&gt;Mom: I'm not feeling well.&lt;br /&gt;E: I'm sorry. Do you have Swine Flu?&lt;br /&gt;Mom: No. Just a cough. I'm still stuck on level 19. Tell me how to pass it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday&lt;br /&gt;Mom (in pitiful voice): I'm sick&lt;br /&gt;E: Do you have Swine Flu?&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Yes. Now I have to wear a mask and everyone's looking at me. And I had to sit in the quarantine area of the waiting room.&lt;br /&gt;E: That's too bad.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Your dad is calling it Pig Flu. I don't like it. &lt;br /&gt;E: Well, he'll have it soon too. Just don't give it to George. Did you know the Twins traded for Hardy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7787742640533501305?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7787742640533501305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7787742640533501305' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7787742640533501305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7787742640533501305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/11/random-conversations-with-my-mother.html' title='Random Conversations with My Mother'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-9078104456293673221</id><published>2009-11-04T01:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T01:14:46.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How come all of the teams didn't get one?</title><content type='html'>I was reading a report on where some of the stimulus money went and found this gem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$30 million for a spring training baseball complex for the Arizona Diamondbacks and Colorado Rockies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems a little unfair to the 28 other teams in baseball. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also funny: $6 million for a snow-making facility in Duluth, Minn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-9078104456293673221?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/9078104456293673221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=9078104456293673221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9078104456293673221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9078104456293673221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-come-all-of-teams-didnt-get-one.html' title='How come all of the teams didn&apos;t get one?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1069871725630463742</id><published>2009-10-28T21:51:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T22:56:47.084-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween = Candy for Me</title><content type='html'>I ran into the grocery store today to pick up some Halloween candy. I was a little annoyed because I had been planning to go into town to hit Wal*Mart for candy but winter weather meant I didn't want to try heading over the mountains just for some cheaper candy. Sadly, as it is the Wednesday before the holiday, the selection was limited. I did find some Take 5 bars and grabbed Snickers but was very disappointed about the lack of Butterfingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was heading for the check out the guy on the radio started talking about Halloween candy and how people pick their favorite candy so that they can eat the leftovers. It was so appropriate to my thoughts. I mean, no Butterfingers. Are you kidding me? Halloween is all about the excuse to buy all your favorite candy and you don't have it? That would have been the last bag I opened, thereby leaving me with my favorite candy bar. Very distressing. It would almost be worth it to take on the Sisters in a blizzard, but not really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1069871725630463742?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1069871725630463742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1069871725630463742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1069871725630463742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1069871725630463742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween-candy-for-me.html' title='Halloween = Candy for Me'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4775763996153815402</id><published>2009-10-20T23:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T23:59:45.235-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it winter yet?</title><content type='html'>Two weeks of winterizing and I think I'm finally done with the whole yard thing. My parents were out last week and my dad helped me cut down some trees and fence off the fence so Gracie can no longer escape. Today, I took set number two of all the slashings we collected out for the garbage man. I was much more on board with throwing them in my truck and dumping them in the mountains or just having a giant bonfire, but my dad insisted on tying them all up. It's going to be weeks before I can get them all out for the garbage man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad also split some wood for me. I needed just a few large logs split. He went a little overboard and created enough firewood to last me for years. I tried to tell him he's splitting wood for others because I can't use that much wood, but he insisted he likes splitting wood. I usually only have a fire going when it's below zero and I need to keep the basement pipes from freezing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I woke to discover one of my deals from work was being broadcast to millions on the Today Show. I immediately went into panic mode. Not that the deal wasn't correct, but holy hell what if it wasn't? The massive spike in traffic caused major slow downs on the site. This was worse than last week's article in the LA Times where the reporter used my analysis to show one of our partners in kind of a negative light. They spun it nicely, but oops. That said, everything I did was right and the hotel had to concede the point. I guess it's good that what I do is helpful and being seen by people, but I prefer when things are a little less public. I'm already paranoid enough about what I publish, I don't need the national press doing QA for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4775763996153815402?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4775763996153815402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4775763996153815402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4775763996153815402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4775763996153815402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/is-it-winter-yet.html' title='Is it winter yet?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7721084671039344452</id><published>2009-10-10T19:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T19:16:31.976-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thunk</title><content type='html'>I was sitting watching the ball game downstairs the other night and suddenly I heard a thunk, thunk, thunk, thud. Poor George. Not only did the groomer shave off all his hair so he looks like an alien, the poor dog fell down the steps. It's probably a good thing he doesn't have any stairs at his house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7721084671039344452?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7721084671039344452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7721084671039344452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7721084671039344452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7721084671039344452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/thunk.html' title='Thunk'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3804513034619255197</id><published>2009-10-06T00:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:23:19.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Importance of Knowing Your Cable Channels</title><content type='html'>My parents (or rather my dad) have been planning a trip to the Black Hills for a couple of months now. My dad's grand plan was to arrive in Murdo, South Dakota tomorrow evening. Then the Twins decided they weren't done playing yet. Weather conditions and distance being taken into account, my dad decided he wasn't going to make Murdo by 4:00. So he called me and asked me to find something in Mitchell. I found him the Best Western and the AmericInn. We've stayed at the Best Western before, they take pets for free and they have super low rates. My dad called and made a reservation. Then he called back and asked if they have TBS. The girl checked her list and said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dad called the AmericInn. They told him indeed they have TBS. He made a reservation and then called me. It would be an extra $40 to get a room where he could watch the Twins game. I mentioned the possibility of a sports bar - more specifically Blarney's Sports Bar and provided him a number to call to check their TBS status. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I decided that if the AmericInn had TBS on cable, they probably had the same cable operator the Best Western used. I decided Front Desk Girl was lying about the lack of TBS. I then found Mitchell Telecom and downloaded their channel selection. Channel 59 is Superstation TBS. So my dad called Front Desk Girl back and told her to turn on channel 59. She soon changed her tune. So the Best Western it is and my dad is now $40 richer for the efforts of Google. And Front Desk Girl probably thinks we're crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3804513034619255197?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3804513034619255197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3804513034619255197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3804513034619255197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3804513034619255197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/importance-of-knowing-your-cable.html' title='The Importance of Knowing Your Cable Channels'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5232136110971244470</id><published>2009-10-04T23:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T23:38:41.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I was amused...</title><content type='html'>In honor of tonight's Monday night match-up and because I was entertained by &lt;a href="http://accidentaldong.blogspot.com/"&gt;this site&lt;/a&gt; (site may be NSFW but checkout the kid's drawing of other kid in wheelchair), I give you this promo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0e6OI554yJ4/Ssj-pTqEWXI/AAAAAAAABt4/KdSTtYCipC0/s400/-23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0e6OI554yJ4/Ssj-pTqEWXI/AAAAAAAABt4/KdSTtYCipC0/s400/-23.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5232136110971244470?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5232136110971244470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5232136110971244470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5232136110971244470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5232136110971244470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/because-i-was-amused.html' title='Because I was amused...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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/_0e6OI554yJ4/Ssj-pTqEWXI/AAAAAAAABt4/KdSTtYCipC0/s72-c/-23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-1750474419270694348</id><published>2009-10-03T14:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T14:51:12.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Do We Hate? FOX!</title><content type='html'>Damn freaking FOX is airing the Phillies Marlins game in Utah. Explain to me how a meaningless game for teams on the east coast would draw a larger audience in Utah than a playoff race game. I pay $200 a year to watch the Twins and they screw me over on the second to last game of the season! And because it's a FOX game, you can't stream it on MLB.tv, you can't get audio of it, you can't get anything. I don't understand why I can't at least stream the game through the FOX site. Bastards.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1750474419270694348?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1750474419270694348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1750474419270694348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1750474419270694348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1750474419270694348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/who-do-we-hate-fox.html' title='Who Do We Hate? FOX!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-9031543507664669301</id><published>2009-10-02T01:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T01:43:30.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Poor Dog and the Stupid Dog</title><content type='html'>My mother took George to the groomer the other day for a trim. She returned to find him completely shaved. His entire top coat is gone and my dad says that in the sunlight you can see the pink of his skin. What kind of idiot would do that to a dog? And more, what idiot would do that in October? My parents started digging out sweaters and stuff he wears during hunting season but you know how those are held in place? With the front legs. George doesn't have two legs in front. My dad is still raging three days later. The night he first saw George he didn't sleep, he was so upset. Evil, evil groomer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was quite miserable here. I didn't want to go outside so I let Gracie out intending to watch her from the window. Not 20 seconds after closing the door, we had total white out conditions. I couldn't see a thing. So I went and dragged a coat out and ran down the steps to see my idiot dog digging her way under the fence. Much as I love her, she's on her own if she runs away during a blizzard. Stupid dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-9031543507664669301?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/9031543507664669301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=9031543507664669301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9031543507664669301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/9031543507664669301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/10/poor-dog-and-stupid-dog.html' title='The Poor Dog and the Stupid Dog'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6316729578857882676</id><published>2009-09-29T21:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T22:06:22.455-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Year Older</title><content type='html'>So I was doing a fine job of ignoring my birthday yesterday until people kept calling and asking why I wasn't celebrating it. I don't know why. I thought spending an enjoyable day reading out on my deck was a very nice celebration. It didn't involve spending money, getting drunk or anything else I didn't really feel like doing. All I needed was some warm sunshine, a nice breeze, my dog and a couple of good books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slept until I felt like getting up&lt;br /&gt;Played with the dog&lt;br /&gt;Grabbed a book and sat on the deck reading&lt;br /&gt;Went to the grocery store, Subway and Post Office (Look, I went out to eat!)&lt;br /&gt;Grabbed another book and continued reading (the power was out for quite a while at this point)&lt;br /&gt;Attended conference call for work&lt;br /&gt;Worked&lt;br /&gt;Baked a cake with one too few eggs&lt;br /&gt;Worked some more&lt;br /&gt;Went to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should also mention that my parents took me out for my birthday a couple weeks ago when I was home. And I went to a Twins game, which didn't have anything to do with my birthday, but we can pretend. They even gave me a leash as a present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6316729578857882676?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6316729578857882676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6316729578857882676' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6316729578857882676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6316729578857882676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/09/another-year-older.html' title='Another Year Older'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1452667454688225293</id><published>2009-09-10T17:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T17:49:06.278-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gracie Wants a Leash</title><content type='html'>The Twins are giving away leashes on Sunday and Gracie has indicated she wants one. Should I go pick one up for her? I picked up a new one for her yesterday and she immediately christened it by rolling in some bear crap. Maybe she'd be nicer to a cheesy Twins leash. The question becomes whether it's worth it to watch the team suck just so Gracie can have a nifty leash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1452667454688225293?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1452667454688225293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1452667454688225293' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1452667454688225293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1452667454688225293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/09/gracie-wants-leash.html' title='Gracie Wants a Leash'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4394931384100299500</id><published>2009-08-26T23:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T23:47:28.554-06:00</updated><title type='text'>E the Landlord?</title><content type='html'>Today, someone stopped by and asked if I'd be interested in renting out my house. This is something I've been debating for a while, but being an absentee landlord to some random person makes me a bit squeamish. However, I know this person very well and she and her family are very nice, quiet devout Mormons. And despite my utter dislike of that particular religion, Mormons are generally very nice and trustworthy people (also a positive is if the renter couldn't make the rent, the church would kick in the money).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My former employer has completely destroyed the notion of job security in this town and the Chinese are playing nasty in the trona markets so the housing market is beyond nothing here and I would like to get out. If I got someone to cover my mortgage, I'd be free to at least be elsewhere. But I don't think I could have my house on the market and rent at the same time. I really, really need to sell before said company screws over their remaining employees and everyone needs to flee. The reason this person is renting and not buying is due to a lack of confidence in this company. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are obviously some other factors involved with renting but the key to the decision is my need to sell vs. my need to not be here.  My mom's against the idea and my dad leans toward it albeit with reservations. I need to have a more in depth discussion with Renter E before I'd really need to make a decision, but I think I was happier with the notion that I wouldn't rent because some crazy person might destroy the house. With a real opportunity to rent to a responsible person, it's so much harder to say no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4394931384100299500?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4394931384100299500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4394931384100299500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4394931384100299500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4394931384100299500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/e-landlord.html' title='E the Landlord?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2963980303736481835</id><published>2009-08-24T23:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T23:22:26.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Escape</title><content type='html'>It's been four months since I returned to find a new fence up on the east side of my property. Immediately upon looking at it, I decided Gracie could pretty much walk right under it. However, until she figured that out, I was not going to spend endless time and money correcting this little design flaw in the fence. I have however made a point of never leaving the dog outside alone for more than five minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has not been a problem. Although recently I'd noticed Gracie eyeing the fence and acting suspiciously. I've distracted her each time with treats or something. Yesterday I let her out while I was making dinner. While I was frying up some stuff, I just knew without even looking that she was out. I called her name and made the treat noises that usually has her come running and got nothing. Then I looked over and saw her peeing on the neighbor's snowmobile. Unfortunately, by the time I went in the house, found a leash, grabbed some treats, took the food off the stove, put some shoes on and got out the front door, she was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went back in and shut off the stove, grabbed my car keys and went driving around the neighborhood. No Gracie. After a while, I decided she'd have to come home on her own and went home. I pulled into the driveway and she came running up to me looking all proud of herself. She had a grin on her face that said "Look at me! I'm outside all by myself. Aren't I clever?" Damn dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2963980303736481835?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2963980303736481835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2963980303736481835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2963980303736481835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2963980303736481835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/great-escape.html' title='The Great Escape'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3646573821895819794</id><published>2009-08-23T01:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T01:54:41.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We have smoke detectors!</title><content type='html'>So my company is planning a mass upload of 5000 hotels into the system and I've been working a writing a very exciting description for each and every hotel. A copy writing project like this is ever so much fun. We're supposed to be "optimistic" about the hotel descriptions, but that can be difficult when the hotel is some chain hotel in the middle of nowhere Georgia. I clicked the amenities tab on one hotel and smoke detectors were listed. Isn't that required for hotels? And this is a 3 star hotel. I contemplated writing a description like "Enjoy a relaxing evening at this hotel secure in the knowledge that should there be a fire, smoke alarms will be there to alert you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, rates in Vegas have continued to decline. I've seen rooms for $10 recently. And strip hotels for under $25. They must be really, really hurting. Not that they're alone. A five star in San Diego was offering rooms for $19 recently - although they didn't have beds, just a tent in the room. Why would you need a tent inside a hotel room?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3646573821895819794?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3646573821895819794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3646573821895819794' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3646573821895819794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3646573821895819794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-have-smoke-detectors.html' title='We have smoke detectors!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7232458778391143817</id><published>2009-08-16T22:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T22:54:24.627-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother the Idiot</title><content type='html'>My brother does not have a car. Well, actually he has a car, it just doesn't run. It's been parked at his house for months now while he either takes advantage of his ex-girlfriend's four month stay in the hospital to use her car or while he rides his bike and the bus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad told me the fun story about A's date the other night. The date didn't know that my brother is broke and irresponsible regarding money issues and thus does not have a car. He was desperately trying to borrow a car so he could hide this from the girl. Sadly, my guess is his ex lent him her car again. Though I think it would be great to pick the girl up on his bicycle like they were 12 or take her on the bus. A bus date would be awesome! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today my brother left his bike on the bus. Way to lose your only form of personal transportation, dumbass!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7232458778391143817?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7232458778391143817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7232458778391143817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7232458778391143817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7232458778391143817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-brother-idiot.html' title='My Brother the Idiot'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6955418620378090759</id><published>2009-08-11T00:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T02:14:46.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Horror!</title><content type='html'>So I'm getting Showtime and the Movie Channel free for the next few months (Thanks DirecTV!) and have been attempting to find some interesting movies to watch. What have I discovered about these channels? They are pretty much all horror all the time at night. Let's review just a few titles played over the weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw IV&lt;br /&gt;Hostel 2&lt;br /&gt;Scream&lt;br /&gt;Hide&lt;br /&gt;Halloween&lt;br /&gt;and more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scream and Halloween are fine movies in their own way, but was there really a need to have a Hostel 2? Or Saw IV? Even more annoying about Saw IV is that apparently it is necessary to have seen Saw III to understand the ending. Whatever happened to making horror movie sequels that are just more murder, mayhem and screaming virgins with little backstory? Jason can keep killing kids at Camp Crytal Lake and you don't have to have seen the first one. Hell, Jason wasn't even the killer in the first movie. My favorite Nightmare on Elm Street is the Dream Warriors (aka part III) and there is absolutely no need to have watched the previous two movies. And there is really no point to this except I was annoyed to have semi-watched two terrible movies that apparently required having watched two other most likely equally terrible movies to fully "appreciate" their sequels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In better news, FLIX (a channel that may or may not be included in my regular package) had Office Space on the other night. I've discovered the movie is much more enjoyable now that I do not have to spend my life living in that cube world anymore. I was all, "Suckers!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6955418620378090759?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6955418620378090759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6955418620378090759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6955418620378090759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6955418620378090759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/horror.html' title='The Horror!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5211673979796389174</id><published>2009-08-09T19:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T19:19:00.575-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Take a Look, It's in a Book</title><content type='html'>Sadly, news has come down that Reading Rainbows has been taken off the air. While new shows hadn't been developed in years, it's continued to run and entertained millions of kids. Unfortunately, a new corporate sponsor could not be found to pay for its renewal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LeVar Burton was Kunta Kinte and Mr. LaForge on Star Trek but every time I see him, I always think of Reading Rainbows and how we got to watch the show once a week in library class, then we got to go pick out books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a similar childhood remembrance, also sad to note was the death of Les Lye from You Can't Do That on Television. I can completely hear his voice saying "D'IIII heard that!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5211673979796389174?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5211673979796389174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5211673979796389174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5211673979796389174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5211673979796389174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/08/take-look-its-in-book.html' title='Take a Look, It&apos;s in a Book'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5725139734379334038</id><published>2009-07-31T23:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T00:34:10.815-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's the Tequila?</title><content type='html'>I want a margarita. Actually, I want more than one. You know why I can't have one? The damn Mormons control the local government and thus, the liquor licenses in this town and they won't give the very nice Mexicans a license. I don't want to drink margaritas at home. I want to be out enjoying one in a bar, but the only way to do that is to drive 40 miles and that screws with the ability to drink multiple margaritas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet Jesus would like margaritas. If he'd been in Mexico instead of the Middle East, instead of turning the water into wine, he'd have turned water into tequila. Right? Okay so the Spanish first distilled agave in the 1500's when they ran out of brandy, but he totally could have done it a lot earlier. You'd need a lot less tequila to make a crowd happy than wine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5725139734379334038?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5725139734379334038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5725139734379334038' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5725139734379334038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5725139734379334038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/wheres-tequila.html' title='Where&apos;s the Tequila?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-5129495603754563003</id><published>2009-07-19T20:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T20:47:29.075-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Presents!</title><content type='html'>I never get anything good in the mail (unless it's more books from Booksfree), but yesterday I got this from my brother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SmPZ-LKGTgI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ZPDKV4zc_Yk/s1600-h/Dysentery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SmPZ-LKGTgI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ZPDKV4zc_Yk/s320/Dysentery.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360367643671285250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of random. I do live on the Oregon Trail and I am quite sad that I apparently did not make it home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5129495603754563003?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5129495603754563003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5129495603754563003' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5129495603754563003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5129495603754563003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/presents.html' title='Presents!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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/_1i2y60eEuzU/SmPZ-LKGTgI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ZPDKV4zc_Yk/s72-c/Dysentery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-4894825211574588819</id><published>2009-07-16T02:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T03:15:33.113-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Tape!</title><content type='html'>Today was garbage day, so I decided to go through a bunch of stuff to see what I could throw away before the real hardcore packing begins and my trash can is overflowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found two Walkmans (the tape playing kind) in my bedroom and then downstairs I found a bag of mixed tapes. Greatest. Thing. Ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight instead of listening to my iPod while working, I used the Walkman. I found a tape where I'd taped songs off the radio including such gems as the Monkees "Daydream Believer", Kenny Loggins "Back to Pooh Corner" and Harry Chapin "Cats in the Cradle". I also managed to tape the weather report (looks like snow), the news (President Clinton did something) and ads (the movie rental place had new releases White Fang 2 and Sirens). Given the movies and the weather, I'd say this tape was made sometime around late fall 1994.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found a mixed tape an ex boyfriend made for me in college. My car only had a tape player so I was pretty stuck. The tape is an awesome workout tape because he was a DJ on the side and it's mostly dance remixes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up are some much older tapes that I know are my first attempts at creating the perfect mixed tape. I think was 10 or 11 at the time. My week of work has just become a million times more enjoyable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4894825211574588819?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4894825211574588819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4894825211574588819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4894825211574588819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4894825211574588819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/mixed-tape.html' title='Mixed Tape!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8568820087888733375</id><published>2009-07-13T01:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T02:22:08.162-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>- Do you ever wonder about the elite media pundits who talk politics and claim to know what middle America or the average Joe wants? They live in Washington or Manhattan, rarely leaving except to head to somewhere like Los Angeles, and yet, they dissect who and what the people of flyover country are and what they want. I hate it when these people speak for me and act as if we are all one group of stupid idiots whose only purpose in life is to shop at Walmart (the horror!) and eat at McDonald's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I wonder how people brush the very back part of their mouth without getting toothpaste all over their hand. This is a trick I cannot master. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- How much destruction is too much? George is still alive even though he completely destroyed the inside of my parents' brand new car. Apparently, he caused thousands of dollars worth of damage, as well as tearing his wound open again and bleeding all over everything. I surprised my dad exercised the restraint to not shoot "that damn dog". Note: They'd leave George at home, but since his surgery it's been tough to leave him home alone for too long. He has some issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My mom called me the other day to tell me that she doesn't think George can go to his kennel anymore - it's called the Four Legged Lodge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Wow, Joe Biden is an idiot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Anyone seen the commercial for the show More to Love? These are "real" women because they are plus sized. Does that make me fake?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8568820087888733375?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8568820087888733375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8568820087888733375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8568820087888733375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8568820087888733375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6623280939743685122</id><published>2009-07-08T01:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T02:00:00.160-06:00</updated><title type='text'>They Stole Einstein's Brain</title><content type='html'>Random trivia I learned tonight on Red Eye. Apparently, Einstein was autopsied after his death (no details on why) and someone stole his brain. It turned up 40 years later in Minnesota. The pathologist thought maybe he could find the genius in the brain, but it seems Einstein's brain was just like everyone else's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second random fact, most people who are autopsied in hospital autopsies are buried without their brain. It's kept and studied for a month or so after the death and then cremated. Unless of course, the family wants brain and body together. Then they exhume the body and replace the brain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things you learn watching late night television. Thanks Dr. Baden!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6623280939743685122?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6623280939743685122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6623280939743685122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6623280939743685122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6623280939743685122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/they-stole-einsteins-brain.html' title='They Stole Einstein&apos;s Brain'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4921913243676188858</id><published>2009-07-07T16:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:32:10.470-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Non-Shopaholic</title><content type='html'>As you know, I'm cheap. I hate spending money on things and really try to buy only the things I need. Doesn't always work, but mostly, it's not a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read Sophie Kinsella's Confessions of a Shopaholic yesterday. Who the hell liked this book? I wanted to kill the main character. I get that it's supposed to be funny and you're supposed to laugh and feel superior. Instead, I just found myself getting angrier and angrier as the book went on and wanted to shake the girl. She's thousands of dollars (or pounds) in debt and yet she continues to spend, spend, spend. Creditors are after her, her VISA is cancelled, but does she learn a lesson from this? Is she forced to quit spending, get evicted, have her wages garnished, anything that might be a consequence to her ridiculous spending and avoidance of creditors? Oh no. In the end, she's able to make more money and pay down some of her debt. Then spends a couple hundred pounds on sunglasses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God what a miserable book. I only finished it because I wanted to see if she'd learn something. I don't get the total love for this series. And I can't imagine wanting to read several more books about this stupid character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4921913243676188858?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4921913243676188858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4921913243676188858' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4921913243676188858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4921913243676188858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/confessions-of-non-shopaholic.html' title='Confessions of a Non-Shopaholic'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1830747544750836927</id><published>2009-07-07T02:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T02:32:05.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So It's July 7th</title><content type='html'>And we're still enjoying lots of fireworks/firecrackers. Gracie is not doing so well with that. She spend half an hour on the 4th in the bathroom closet. This is the same bathroom she absolutely will not enter ever - unless she's terrified out of her mind apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was out on my deck reading and she was off doing something (probably digging under the fence) when someone set off some firecrackers. I looked up to see her tearing across the lawn to get inside ASAP. She won't even go outside without me. It's not funny but really it is. Poor dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1830747544750836927?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1830747544750836927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1830747544750836927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1830747544750836927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1830747544750836927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-its-july-7th.html' title='So It&apos;s July 7th'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8141271440160234687</id><published>2009-07-04T21:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T21:31:11.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bang!</title><content type='html'>Gracie climbed under the bed at 5 PM. I don't think she quite understands what's headed her way in just a few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A summer with lots of rain and thus, no fire bans = Fireworks galore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8141271440160234687?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8141271440160234687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8141271440160234687' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8141271440160234687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8141271440160234687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/07/bang.html' title='Bang!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-5046813349203049768</id><published>2009-06-25T22:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T22:09:25.304-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh Work</title><content type='html'>I've found it odd that since the summer started I am much more apt to work longer hours each day. And oddly, I seem to enjoy it more. I don't understand this phenomenon. Usually I work a certain number of hours every day. Sometimes more, sometimes less and sometimes not at all. Sunday, I was way over my weekly quota and still I decided to work. What's wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I added up my hours and realized that basically I can take the entire weekend off. Yet I am stressed at the idea of not keeping to my schedule. I think I really need a vacation. Where should I go? Hiking in the Tetons? Take Gracie into the Uintas? These are the days I wish I hadn't said no to dating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5046813349203049768?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5046813349203049768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5046813349203049768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5046813349203049768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5046813349203049768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/ahh-work.html' title='Ahh Work'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7234939614211307515</id><published>2009-06-24T01:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T02:01:11.366-06:00</updated><title type='text'>May I Take Your Order?</title><content type='html'>Today, my parents went a step to far. Instead of using me as their own personal 411 operator as per usual (1-800-FREE-411 is beyond them), my dad called and asked me to call and order Chinese take out for him. I love that he took the time to call me to order, but couldn't call and order himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a personal assistant, nor am I a take-out orderer. I hate the phone and despise calling people, especially people I don't know. You know what's worse? Calling someone I don't know three states away, over a cell phone with poor connection and trying to communicate with a man whose accent is so Deck the Halls fa-ra-ra-ra-ra that I can't figure out whether I actually ordered what I was supposed to. Good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7234939614211307515?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7234939614211307515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7234939614211307515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7234939614211307515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7234939614211307515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/may-i-take-your-order.html' title='May I Take Your Order?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6019938970975964902</id><published>2009-06-18T16:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T16:30:03.503-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Introducing George the Three Legged Wonder Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_TnzMDaI/AAAAAAAAAGE/hlij7j4mKME/s1600-h/george1_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_TnzMDaI/AAAAAAAAAGE/hlij7j4mKME/s320/george1_sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348797851277987234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George is having a hard time adjusting to his lost leg. He's not in pain (because he's totally trashed on painkillers), but he knows there's something different and isn't quite sure what it is. It doesn't help that Baby E is in his house disturbing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_vRpbyXI/AAAAAAAAAGM/HLYOkX4yySY/s1600-h/george2_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_vRpbyXI/AAAAAAAAAGM/HLYOkX4yySY/s320/george2_sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348798326367832434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_0FNQmRI/AAAAAAAAAGU/WLjkWH3Wv6k/s1600-h/george3_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_0FNQmRI/AAAAAAAAAGU/WLjkWH3Wv6k/s320/george3_sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348798408927779090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6019938970975964902?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6019938970975964902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6019938970975964902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6019938970975964902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6019938970975964902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/introducing-george-three-legged-wonder.html' title='Introducing George the Three Legged Wonder Dog'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/Sjq_TnzMDaI/AAAAAAAAAGE/hlij7j4mKME/s72-c/george1_sm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-5053182342240158006</id><published>2009-06-16T17:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T21:19:20.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Daughter</title><content type='html'>My mom called me the other day to let me know that George had come through his surgery okay. Poor baby is not going to understand what happened. And in the conversation my mom also let me know that her "other daughter" is coming with her baby to stay at my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S's cousin is getting married next weekend, so I figured she was coming up for the wedding and would stay at my parents'. The conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: That sounds nice.&lt;br /&gt;M: No.&lt;br /&gt;E: It's not nice?&lt;br /&gt;M: No.&lt;br /&gt;E: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;M: Because she's coming to stay.&lt;br /&gt;E: Like stay, stay? For how long?&lt;br /&gt;M: I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;E: Why is she coming?&lt;br /&gt;M: I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;E: What do you know?&lt;br /&gt;M: Nothing. She just called and said she wanted to come home and I said okay. I just thought you should know in case she's homicidal or suicidal or something.&lt;br /&gt;E: So you're going to have a mentally unstable S and her baby living with you for an unspecified length of time? Good luck with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has severe grandbaby lust and throws S's baby in my face as how I'm missing out because she'd shower them with gifts and attention and instead, Baby E is getting it. Now my mom gets to have her living there 24/7. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor George is coming home tomorrow after losing his leg. He's just going to want peace and quiet. Instead there'll be a baby/toddler in his house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5053182342240158006?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5053182342240158006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5053182342240158006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5053182342240158006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5053182342240158006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/other-daughter.html' title='The Other Daughter'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7524051277319411896</id><published>2009-06-13T18:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T18:40:00.651-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Well That Was Rude</title><content type='html'>So I officially listed my house on Thursday. And of course, before it was even posted on the MLS, another realtor called and wanted to show the house. Now it seems to me that the housing market is supposed to suck so I wasn't expecting a call an hour after leaving the realtor's. My house was not nearly clean enough to let potential buyers come in. Good thing I work from home because it took me until 4 AM last night to be satisfied. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I only have to clean for future showings. This time around I was moving furniture and packing boxes out to the garage. Oh yeah, and finishing the floor in the bathroom closet (freaking hours here for two feet of space) and painting and replacing the trim that Gracie destroyed during her furnace fearing days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the showing was at 1:30 today. I left about 1:15 and set out with Gracie to Taco Bell about ten miles down the freeway at the truck stop. Sadly, they were out of sour cream, so I went to Burger King. Then I drove to a freeway turn off up on one of the benches (better cell service), parked and talked to V for more than an hour. I arrived home after 3:00 and they were still at my house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a massive storm was about to hit, the rain started falling and I knew all the windows in my house open. Then it started hailing and there I was with my truck not in a garage but parked in the wide open park and ride and with a totally freaked out dog. At this point, I got mad. House appointments are typically half hour, but an hour's okay. Almost two hours is really, really rude. I wonder how late they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This town does not have anywhere for me to go for two hours. The library closes at 2 on Saturdays, so what, I should hang at the grocery store for two hours? Next time I'm totally parking in the school parking lot across the street and watching the goings on. It's not like I can leave my Gracie in a hot car anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo to these rude dumbasses! If you're going to be that late, call the realtor and push the appointment back an hour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7524051277319411896?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7524051277319411896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7524051277319411896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7524051277319411896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7524051277319411896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/well-that-was-rude.html' title='Well That Was Rude'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5262450511527389044</id><published>2009-06-10T22:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T00:12:50.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'>As Seen on TV</title><content type='html'>I watch a lot of late night television. As such, I get to see a lot of those only on TV products that I only want because they seem ridiculous. Here are some of my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.buynecklineslimmer.com/ "&gt;The Neckline Slimmer&lt;/a&gt;, which as one person put it, is a pogo stick for your chin. The thing that amuses me the most about the commercial is that there are three springs, Beginner, Intermediate and Advanced. And there is a training video. Seriously, the thing is a chin rest on a spring. What can you possibly need a training video for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="https://www.tryabcircle.com/flare/next"&gt;Ab Circle Pro&lt;/a&gt; looks like the stupidest ab workout yet. But I love spin-y chairs and this looks kind of like spinning only you only go halfway before stopping and going back the other way. It might make you dizzy, but I think it might be fun for a few seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, the &lt;a href="http://www.teeter-inversion.com/"&gt;Teeter Hang Ups&lt;/a&gt;. This one makes you hang upside down like a bat while supposedly relieving back pain. The best part of the commercial for this one though, is the small print that reads, "Extraordinary Claims". No "Individual results may vary" for this product. It's a straight up you're a sucker if you believe us message. I want one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5262450511527389044?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5262450511527389044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5262450511527389044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5262450511527389044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5262450511527389044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/as-seen-on-tv.html' title='As Seen on TV'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-830045137618140839</id><published>2009-06-09T19:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T19:55:32.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva Las Vegas</title><content type='html'>Today I got my weekly travel deal e-mail from the company I work for. Typically, I just scan it for deals in my territories to make sure the information is correct. Today, however, I noticed the nifty Vegas deal. Since I'm heading to Vegas in December as always, i looked into it. $59 a night with free access to the Buffet at the MGM Grand. That's free meals for two the entire stay. There's other stuff included too, but all I care about is the free food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually stay at the former Barbary Coast because it's mid-strip and you walk in off the street into the elevator and up to your room. However, the price difference was $9 a night and there is no way to feed two people in Vegas for $9 a day. We'll each pay $118 for food and lodging for four nights. Now I have more money for drinking and gambling. And I don't gamble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-830045137618140839?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/830045137618140839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=830045137618140839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/830045137618140839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/830045137618140839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/viva-las-vegas.html' title='Viva Las Vegas'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5083015332510548680</id><published>2009-06-03T15:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T15:26:29.018-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Biopsy results are in...</title><content type='html'>And it seems George has cancer. Treatment includes radical resectioning and potentially chemo. The dog we had for most of my childhood had cancer in her leg too. Ultimately, she died when the cancer spread to her brain (this was years after having the leg cancer removed). No one wants to see George suffer in the same horrible way Chelsea did. Here's hoping the cancer can be removed and that George can spend the last years of his life as a happy dog albeit with half a foot missing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5083015332510548680?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5083015332510548680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5083015332510548680' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5083015332510548680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5083015332510548680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/06/biopsy-results-are-in.html' title='Biopsy results are in...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5063168715336599704</id><published>2009-05-30T02:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T02:27:28.231-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet Plane</title><content type='html'>Because I'm me and because I can, I've been seriously considering selling my house, putting everything in storage, dropping the dog with my parents and moving to Ireland for a few months. It may seem a bit drastic, but why not? My job can be done anywhere there's internet access and I'm bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started looking at costs. I found a nice little cottage available for $179 a week. I'm thinking off season here so prices are a bit lower than crazy summer prices. When that includes utilities and such, I'd be set. Seriously, I do pretty well despite my quasi-employed status and with the cash I'd have from the sale of my house, it's not like it would matter anyway. I could become a moody American who walks the cliffs overlooking the radioactive Irish Sea in the rain. Very gothic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether I do something ridiculous like this or not, it's motivated me to start pretending to pack again. I moved boxes today. I'm pretty much out of things to pack that I don't use or need to stage a house, but I can move boxes to other places in the house. Tomorrow, I'm going to clean and then maybe call a realtor over next week to discuss options.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5063168715336599704?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5063168715336599704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5063168715336599704' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5063168715336599704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5063168715336599704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving on a Jet Plane'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2600683444382401970</id><published>2009-05-27T17:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T18:00:06.832-06:00</updated><title type='text'>George Visits the Dermatologist</title><content type='html'>My parents finally broke down and took George to the Cities to see a world renowned pet dermatologist. Who knew that people specialized in this? He saw four doctors and a surgeon. Total cost: $657. Ouch. Hopefully, they will determine what is wrong and George will keep his foot. My dad told me that he and George were simpatico because he had also visited his dermatologist that morning and had several biopsies taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I kept up the fine family tradition of trying to convince people in this town to quit their jobs. Last week, I had been discussing my job with M, my favorite teller. She was pretty interested and we chatted for a bit. Today when I walked in she wasn't there so I was stuck with K. M popped out of the back just as I was leaving and immediately started asking questions about how she should go about her search. Teller K also got involved and became very interested. Wells Fargo may not want me coming around anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In still other news, I tried the dating thing again this weekend and have decided it must stop. No more. I've met very nice guys, but no. I did enjoy the new Star Trek movie though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2600683444382401970?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2600683444382401970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2600683444382401970' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2600683444382401970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2600683444382401970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/george-visits-dermatologist.html' title='George Visits the Dermatologist'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5320904568492102646</id><published>2009-05-20T23:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:50:16.569-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing is Evil</title><content type='html'>So I was watching one of those shows where the people have 16 million kids and are all in your face about their special brand of Christianity. I'm happy that they've made that choice in their lives and are happy with it. However, I have serious issues with someone who has a fit when their three year old bounces up and down and claps to the beat of a drum. They acted like God was going to smite that child for his evil dancing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the Bible doesn't actually say dancing is bad. It's more that dancing leads to bad things. People were dancing in worship of a false idol or dance to tempt someone into sin. One could note that they also dance in praise of God. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say the kid was doing none of these. He was having fun. When you can have a view towards understanding why you shouldn't do something and you make a choice not to do it, that's great. When a three year old is acting as a three year old would, freaking out and punishing him does nothing. What's wrong with bouncing? What's the difference between that and running around in circles? A three year old does not know and cannot distinguish why one thing is evil and one is fine. Why not just gently redirect him towards some other activity? Making the kid feel bad for something he doesn't and can't understand is pointless and hurtful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5320904568492102646?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5320904568492102646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5320904568492102646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5320904568492102646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5320904568492102646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/dancing-is-evil.html' title='Dancing is Evil'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-383655873285889681</id><published>2009-05-18T03:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T03:18:58.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>Dreams are usually interesting. I mean, what does it say about my ex-boyfriend that I once dreamed he was the Jason/Freddie/Mike Myers character in a slasher blood bath? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since Gracie sleeps at the end of the couch to keep me warm, I often watch her dream. This dog goes all out in her dreams, running, jumping, barking. I wonder what she dreams about? Does she chase interesting animals? Is she on a tennis court with a ball machine perpetually shooting balls for her to chase? Her life is pretty much sleep, eat, chase balls, try to dig under fence. I'd love to know whether she dreams of a more interesting life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-383655873285889681?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/383655873285889681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=383655873285889681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/383655873285889681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/383655873285889681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8129024909167309955</id><published>2009-05-14T17:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T17:54:17.216-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is what it has come to?</title><content type='html'>I was talking to my friend last night. She's been unemployed and steadily looking since Christmas. Yesterday she had her (weekly?) discussion with her unemployment counselor. He advised her to remove her Master's degree from her resume. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that it screams Overqualified and Expensive, but how sad is it that she has to remove mention of something she worked hard and paid good money for? An asset has now become a liability in the job market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this conversation, we moved on to discuss her boyfriend of five years. Apparently, he sits in her house watching TV while she works outside mowing the lawn and raking leaves and doing other yard work. I think this is a bad sign. I wouldn't expect him to come over and do the work for her, but why wouldn't he help out if he's there? If they worked together, maybe they could get it done faster and spend more time together. This inaction on the boyfriend's part? Not a one time occurrence. I'm now even more heavily on the dump A bandwagon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8129024909167309955?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8129024909167309955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8129024909167309955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8129024909167309955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8129024909167309955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-is-what-it-has-come-to.html' title='This is what it has come to?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6957698406671556818</id><published>2009-05-11T19:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T19:46:57.690-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Detergent</title><content type='html'>When my mom and I were in Wal*Mart a while back, we were supposed to buy laundry detergent. Simple enough to do. But after putting the cheap crap my dad buys into the cart, my mom leaned over and asked, "You use Tide, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed I do. Yes, I am super cheap (but not so cheap I'd go as far as reusing toilet paper - I read about that once in a How to Save Money thing). My mom told me how much she loved the smell of the clothes she washed at my house. And yes, that's exactly why I buy Tide - Original Scent. Now as a cheap person, I should buy the $5 bottle of adequate detergent. Instead, I pay $15 for the wonderful smelling Tide. It's one of those things I'm willing to shell out for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom? She slipped a bottle of Tide in the cart and planned to hide it from my dad. &lt;i&gt;Her&lt;/I&gt; clothes were going to smell fantastic and he could stick with the Xtra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6957698406671556818?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6957698406671556818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6957698406671556818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6957698406671556818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6957698406671556818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/detergent.html' title='Detergent'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6703689037279591890</id><published>2009-05-08T23:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:35:46.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dick Clark is Awesome</title><content type='html'>The other night I was watching this show about identical twin autistic savants. These women had an unnatural obsession with Dick Clark including a shrine to him in their bedroom. When Dick had his stroke, they followed his health status daily - giving updates to anyone who would listen. The twins always refer to him by both names, "Hi Dick Clark! How are you, Dick Clark?" When the $100,000 Pyramid was cancelled, they went into a deep depression. Ironically, they showed what replaced their show and it was Judge Wapner's People's Court. I bet Rain Man was pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, a television reporter, who had been following them for years (his footage made up most of the show), arranged for them to meet Dick Clark. Now I know celebrities meet "special" fans all the time - terminally ill and disabled kids, etc. so this isn't all that special. However, it was off-handedly mentioned by the twins that after meeting him, Dick Clark called them every year on their birthday. When their sister and caretaker died, they called him and he helped them through their grief. Then, he invited them to come visit him at his house after their sister's husband kicked them out and they were trying to deal with all the changes. For all of this, Dick Clark is awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6703689037279591890?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6703689037279591890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6703689037279591890' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6703689037279591890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6703689037279591890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/05/dick-clark-is-awesome.html' title='Dick Clark is Awesome'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-994346063973920715</id><published>2009-04-30T17:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T17:53:39.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fence is Up!</title><content type='html'>So approximately four weeks after I left for Minnesota, I have returned home to Wyoming. While I was gone, my neighbor seems to have gotten some motivation and put up a new fence. Only one problem, Gracie can totally walk under said fence. Now she'll have to wait a month or so until I decide to go to a real town to get some fencing before being allowed to play chase whatever E throws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also picked up my mail today. In it, I found very few bills (quite an achievement when you've been gone for a month), two paychecks and a Christmas present. Yay Christmas! It included cash so I was much pleased. One of my parents apparently slipped some cash into my wallet the other day too. I find it vastly amusing that my parents think I need money. My dad claims I'm quasi-unemployed. I'm actually quite happily employed. I just don't work very much. It makes life much more enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently, Obama's stimulus bill is providing me with the ability to elect COBRA benefits for 65% off the original rate quoted. This discount is only available to people who didn't elect COBRA when they were laid off. Apparently, it sucks to be you if you took the ridiculously overpriced COBRA right off. If it weren't retroactive to March 1, I'd totally take the dental insurance, do the whole cleaning thing, then cancel after only paying a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George has taken the loss of Gracie quite hard. My mother is really excited because Gracie's visit convinced my dad that they need another dog. She is scouring Petfinder to locate just the right companion for George. Until then, he'll just have to pine wistfully for the return of his girlfriend. Until he comes out here to visit her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-994346063973920715?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/994346063973920715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=994346063973920715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/994346063973920715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/994346063973920715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/04/fence-is-up.html' title='The Fence is Up!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4670088372497256540</id><published>2009-04-15T17:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T17:59:03.045-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring!</title><content type='html'>After spending the last two days working outside digging up stumps, I've decided that I'm happy spring has arrived. Bright blue skies, warm sunshine and short sleeved shirts are nice. The weather also makes it more fun to walk the dogs and has melted most of the snow off the trails so the four wheeling has been fantastic. Yay spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4670088372497256540?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4670088372497256540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4670088372497256540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4670088372497256540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4670088372497256540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring.html' title='Spring!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-284370291482087372</id><published>2009-04-09T11:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T11:31:01.735-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Metrodome Thoughts</title><content type='html'>* It occurred to me last night that the Call to the Bullpen guys are not going to make the transition to the new stadium with its nifty new scoreboard. This makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It seems Justin Morneau needs my presence not to suck. This does not bode well for him. Hopefully, he just needed me to help jump start his bat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The ushers at the Dome are awesome. Or at least mine was. She kept hordes of people waiting until the half inning ended. Once when some people stood at the railing and she wasn't there, we panicked. Only to see her flying down the stairs yelling, "I'm coming!" I also heard her ask a couple of little girls who had been going up and down every inning whether they were actually planning to watch the game. The girls did not come back down again. I loved her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Damn you Nick Punto. Couldn't you have at least made an error so I could win Twingo? Also, the Thriller walk up music has to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Not Dome related but, I love the Hennepin County Library system.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-284370291482087372?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/284370291482087372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=284370291482087372' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/284370291482087372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/284370291482087372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/04/metrodome-thoughts.html' title='Metrodome Thoughts'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2791129537636162070</id><published>2009-04-01T17:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T17:41:15.937-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Blizzard Batman!</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was sitting on my couch watching TV and reading a book when it sounded like my house had moved into a wind tunnel. It had been very windy all day (no surprise since this is Wyoming), but this was extreme. I looked outside and could see absolutely nothing. Sustained winds of 60 mph and heavy snow created a zero visibility nightmare - later I looked out to see how my trash can (and the trash inside it) had survived the wind...not well. This was one instance when I totally agreed with the freeway closure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my mother called, ostensibly to tell me I should be at their house by Sunday to help the choir with their boom whacker practice (don't ask). She's still not getting the idea that floods and blizzards make it a challenge to drive to their place so the "maybe" is still in place. Really though she called to tell me that her "other daughter" called and is probably coming to Easter dinner with my mom's granddaughter and don't I want to meet my niece? Nice try mom. Still not getting grandkids from me any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that does actually make me feel bad about maybe not going home is George. Poor baby hurt his foot really badly and now has a staph infection. Apparently, he's not eating &amp; drinking, can't pee, whines all the time and runs into walls. They hope if I bring Gracie around, he'll forget about his foot a bit and be more interested in getting some action.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2791129537636162070?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2791129537636162070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2791129537636162070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2791129537636162070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2791129537636162070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/04/holy-blizzard-batman.html' title='Holy Blizzard Batman!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5149251144631733898</id><published>2009-03-27T00:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T00:45:48.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fence is Down!</title><content type='html'>So the fence in my backyard has been leaning precariously for months now. In fact, it kind of fell over last August but my neighbor fixed it. As a precaution though, I always look out and check before I let the dog out. Not today. And of course, today half the fence was down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie immediately took off for the downed fence. I followed behind her wishing I had a treat or something. Anything to bribe her away from said fence. The funny thing is that my dog is terrified of almost everything. I mean, she's afraid of the kitchen - what dog is scared of a food filled room? So she went over to the fence, sniffed it and looked pretty interested, but ultimately decided that walking across the scary wooden fence and then past the terrifying snow blowers and lawnmower parked on the other side was not worth it. She then took off and ran to the other side of the yard, where she can go under rather than over the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She followed me quite happily into the house a minute later. Sometimes I think it's a good thing to have a weird dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5149251144631733898?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5149251144631733898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5149251144631733898' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5149251144631733898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5149251144631733898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/fence-is-down.html' title='The Fence is Down!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7594018464802458069</id><published>2009-03-21T23:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T00:13:27.872-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Jersey wants to ban Brazilians</title><content type='html'>No not the people, but the wax jobs. Really? Does the New Jersey legislature have nothing better to do than get involved in women's bikini lines?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One New Jersey salon owner said that her customers don't think their bikini lines are anyone's business but their own. "It's just not right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said many customers would likely travel across state lines to get it and some might even try to wax themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say the government is becoming too involved in our personal lives. Given this ban proposal, I've got to say they're very, very right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA: Apparently, the legislature has backed down from this idea after it became one big joke fest. Still, the fact that they even thought it was worthwhile is incomprehensible to me. Two people get infections and suddenly we need to ban it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7594018464802458069?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7594018464802458069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7594018464802458069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7594018464802458069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7594018464802458069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-jersey-wants-to-ban-brazilians.html' title='New Jersey wants to ban Brazilians'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2518798616416937409</id><published>2009-03-16T00:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T00:59:04.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things That Are Not Funny</title><content type='html'>* Old Age Begins at 27? Professor Salthouse, you need to study something that makes for a less depressing headline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Jay Leno. As I stated in my last post, Bristol Palin jokes are not funny. Hooray to my dad for switching the channel when you went there. Also, still telling Bush jokes? He's been gone for a while now, so maybe your writers could think up a nice Obama joke or something that's not been done for the last eight freaking years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Gracie the Digging Wonder Dog. I wonder why the stores can put out Christmas stuff in September, but can't put out the garden fence I need in March since they seem so far ahead in the sales cycle. The digging wonder will be tied up until such fence is available for sale. Actually, Gracie the dog is quite amusing, it's the digging that's not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Long hospital stays. A friend of mine has now been in the hospital for over two months. Oh and to add further joy, she's been confined to her room except for three trips out into the hall with her mask. She was supposed to get out last Tuesday. Sadly, she developed a fever and won't be out for at least another week - after her fourth bone marrow biopsy in as many weeks. Ouch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2518798616416937409?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2518798616416937409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2518798616416937409' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2518798616416937409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2518798616416937409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/things-that-are-not-funny.html' title='Things That Are Not Funny'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6850398730085044942</id><published>2009-03-13T03:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T03:39:40.954-06:00</updated><title type='text'>People Are Stupid</title><content type='html'>You know what really pisses me off? When stupid crazy idiots attack politician's family members. Do you know that it does nothing for your cause when you spread horrific rumors about a teenager who has done nothing to you and is NOT a public figure. I get it. You hate Sarah Palin. Leave her freaking daughter alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How hard do you think it is for a pregnant 17 year old to have to see ridiculous rumors spread about her in the tabloids and all over the left wing media outlets? After claiming that her brother is her child, these idiots are now positively gleeful that she's broken up with her son's father. The comments on some very high profile left wing internet sites are disgusting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, she's an 18 year old high school senior with a baby. The press has generally been good about not covering politicians' kids (see Clinton, Chelsea and Bush, Jenna and Barbara). However, it seems that the Palin hate is so rabid that it's perfectly okay to pretty much try to destroy a young kid who made a mistake to try to get at her mother. It's sickening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6850398730085044942?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6850398730085044942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6850398730085044942' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6850398730085044942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6850398730085044942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-are-stupid.html' title='People Are Stupid'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-1117404310941197786</id><published>2009-03-08T03:27:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T03:47:47.613-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you beat those blah blues?</title><content type='html'>Everyone seems to be feeling pretty low these days. Is it the endless winter dragging everyone down? My best friend got laid off in December and is now calling me almost every day out of sheer boredom. I'm not sure calling me alleviates her boredom because I don't do anything other than read, work and sleep. This is especially true now that I've given up the dating thing again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have developed a new plan to drag us out of the monotony and boredom and have slowly been working her up to going to Vegas. They're practically giving hotel rooms away and in some cases are offering to pay for airfare or gas. Am I evil for trying to convince an unemployed friend to spend a little money? She's not broke by any means - just kind of like me, saving money and acting all broke but with a lot of cash in the bank. I just think everyone needs a little escape to get away from the stress and worry of job hunting or just the everyday grind of work, eat, sleep, repeat cycle of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone have any suggestions to break through the general malaise that seems to be invading everyone's lives?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1117404310941197786?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1117404310941197786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1117404310941197786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1117404310941197786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1117404310941197786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/can-you-beat-those-blah-blues.html' title='Can you beat those blah blues?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4608976495276969956</id><published>2009-03-04T17:23:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T17:47:12.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ABC Sucks</title><content type='html'>I love 24 and this season is great given that the writers actually plotted out an entire season (writers strike was obvious as this is now more a season of "10" and "14"). That said, the show has commercials and what's better to watch during the commercials than The Bachelor, a plotless show generally filled with skanks and famewhores? However, that doesn't mean that all the people on there suck - most of them are semi-normal, just confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record ABC, Jason is the biggest jackass ever and your manipulations to humiliate an emotionally damaged girl on national television and then paint the new happy couple heroes for following their hearts is sick and all kinds of wrong. Ick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like you're aspiring to become Rock of Love but can't understand that people like Lacey revel in their grossness and they all pretty much went on there just to say they've screwed a "rock star". Trashy strippers are hilarious and entertaining. Humiliating a nice, average young woman in front of millions is not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4608976495276969956?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4608976495276969956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4608976495276969956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4608976495276969956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4608976495276969956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/abc-sucks.html' title='ABC Sucks'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-433658242840878818</id><published>2009-03-03T00:08:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T03:30:24.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Should one bargain when selling one's body?</title><content type='html'>Seriously, my job became vastly amusing today as I started in on hotels in Costa Rica. The very first hotel I added is well known as a man's Disneyland full of hot chicks willing to do anything for the right price. All I was trying to do was get reviews of the hotel and stumbled onto a continuing debate in the reviews section about whether it's okay to bargain the hookers down to $60 or if that's insulting and the services are worth the going rate of $100. The debate got downright heated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the proper etiquette when engaging the services of a streetwalker? I say, bargain away lads. You might need to save your money for other things like testing and meds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-433658242840878818?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/433658242840878818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=433658242840878818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/433658242840878818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/433658242840878818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/03/should-one-bargain-when-selling-ones.html' title='Should one bargain when selling one&apos;s body?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-659128281243769495</id><published>2009-02-27T22:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T22:19:16.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who thought that would be a good idea?</title><content type='html'>Anyone seen the commercial for Pinocchio? The background music is a dance remix of When You Wish Upon A Star. First of all, what? And second, the hell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-659128281243769495?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/659128281243769495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=659128281243769495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/659128281243769495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/659128281243769495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/who-thought-that-would-be-good-idea.html' title='Who thought that would be a good idea?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-690563838227860444</id><published>2009-02-24T02:02:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T02:30:18.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They Actually Exist</title><content type='html'>Today I actually felt like a working person again. I mean, I work everyday but because I communicate completely via e-mail, it's like I play in a virtual world and someone sends me a check every couple weeks. Today, we started a weekly teleconference. I talked to actual humans. Live! It was a typical teleconference and I really hate meetings but it's nice to know other people exist.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a total shift of topic, I've lately been wondering if men think that they need to cave to everything their dates are interested in because they think it's polite or nice or something. I don't know whether it's a book or a movie where the heroine yells at her boyfriend about agreeing with her all the time, "What if I don't want Thai? What if I want Peking Cat?!" Seriously, where is the spine? The personal opinion?  If I disagree, that's great. Dissension can be good - At least it shows personality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone on a board today wrote exactly what I had been thinking earlier in the day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beware of "nice" guys. A good number of them are weak, and weak people are bad news in relationships. I see X as one of these guys who is always saying "women don't want nice guys, they want a man who mistreats them." No, they don't. They want a man with a spine who knows who he is and what he stands for, not some guy whose sole personality trait is "nice."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-690563838227860444?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/690563838227860444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=690563838227860444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/690563838227860444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/690563838227860444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/they-actually-exist.html' title='They Actually Exist'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8600131761987325871</id><published>2009-02-20T17:43:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:15:07.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait, $1000 a year for meeting obligations?</title><content type='html'>The hell? I'm against bailouts in general. I get where the government is going with all this and think it's a horrible, horrible idea but whatever. There's nothing I can do so I just have to let it go for now. Still the latest housing bailout proposal is the most ridiculous thing ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helping people refinance who are underwater and/or unemployed is one thing, but actually paying them at the end of the year if they manage to make these new payments is utterly nonsensical. I make my payments and have always made my payments. My income has been severely impacted and still I make these payments. Where the hell is my check for being responsible and meeting my obligations? If after helping someone out, it is still necessary to bribe them into continuing to make payments, clearly they are not the type of people who should be provided with additional assistance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8600131761987325871?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8600131761987325871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8600131761987325871' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8600131761987325871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8600131761987325871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/wait-1000-year-for-meeting-obligations.html' title='Wait, $1000 a year for meeting obligations?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1565225670711775334</id><published>2009-02-20T01:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T02:15:31.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anything that can go wrong, will...</title><content type='html'>This weekend is the time for my grandma's estate sale. A while back, my mother noticed that the dates which should have been Friday, Saturday, Sunday were actually showing as Thursday, Friday, Saturday. She called my uncle who told her to stay out of it and he'd deal with it. Guess what? The dates were never changed - way to go, Uncle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my parents were supposed to be in Edina early this morning for a final walk through. Sadly, deaths happened. The church had already exhausted its funeral volunteers last week and needed my parents to help. By the time the last funeral was over and everybody had been served and stuff cleaned up, it was too late to drop George at the kennel on Wednesday. BTW - funeral broke all records in attendance, something like 1000 people filled the church, many watching the funeral on TVs in the "overflow" Sunday school rooms.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning the parents drove down and the sale went off with really no need for them to be there. After it was done for the day, they went out to dinner. Then a water main broke on my grandma's street, flooding the street and the basement. Everyone went back to the house to get everything off the floor in the basement. So exciting! Tomorrow, the street will be a lovely sheet of ice. And there may or may not be running water or an open street. Good luck with that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1565225670711775334?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1565225670711775334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1565225670711775334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1565225670711775334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1565225670711775334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/anything-that-can-go-wrong-will.html' title='Anything that can go wrong, will...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2673899238070637577</id><published>2009-02-17T23:24:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T02:51:38.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh Fresh Air</title><content type='html'>This morning I woke up and thought it smelled so fresh and clean in my bedroom. I wondered how I managed to make it that nice. Gracie got up, so I wandered out to open her dog door. I then realized that wasn't necessary since my back door was wide open. Guess that solves the mystery of the fresh air smell. Oops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing that back gate is such a deterrent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2673899238070637577?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2673899238070637577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2673899238070637577' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2673899238070637577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2673899238070637577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/ahh-fresh-air.html' title='Ahh Fresh Air'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5249865517145311391</id><published>2009-02-13T23:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T00:00:52.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you know China's going to invade?</title><content type='html'>I didn't either until one of my "dates" and I spent an hour discussing his pet theory. Where do these people come from? I'm going to lay out his theory because I found it vastly amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, the Chinese are going to secretly load hundreds of thousands of soldiers onto container ships which will then dock in west coast ports, take over the major cities and then I guess march eastward. The US military would be in chaos and apparently, the millions of Americans living in these areas would not fight back against what would be a pretty small force compared to the population of California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After pointing out the ridiculous flaws in this master invasion plan, he continued to defend his position - at one point asking if I knew how long it took the US to mobilize in Riyadh. The hell? He honestly believes that China could somehow sneak hundreds of thousands of people plus food and supplies for them onto container ships, sail them across the ocean and then attack and &lt;i&gt;no one&lt;/i&gt; would have any idea until after the invasion took place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still wondering about the Chinese motive for this invasion attempt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5249865517145311391?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5249865517145311391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5249865517145311391' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5249865517145311391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5249865517145311391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/did-you-know-chinas-going-to-invade.html' title='Did you know China&apos;s going to invade?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2573753531899231644</id><published>2009-02-13T02:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T03:24:34.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Away from Nimrod</title><content type='html'>Death seems to be stalking the denizens of Nimrod recently. I've told my parents to get the hell out. In the last week, the community has lost 5 people, none of them over the age of 65. Two died after long battles with cancer, one died a week after being diagnosed with cancer and in an absolutely horrible tragedy, last night two men were killed when they were crushed by hay bales. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The town was absolutely rocked by the hay bale incident. Weird farm accidents happen a lot but they're always so freakish. Apparently, they loosened the ties, the load shifted and off they rolled. I guess if you're going to go, having a 1500 pound bale drop on you from 12 feet up is going to be relatively quick and painless, but man that's rough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinker was a great guy who was involved in the Nimrod plan to Move E's Stuff. He let me borrow his semi for free which was pretty awesome of him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, really terrible tragedy and the town's gonna feel it for a long while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2573753531899231644?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2573753531899231644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2573753531899231644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2573753531899231644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2573753531899231644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/stay-away-from-nimrod.html' title='Stay Away from Nimrod'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5413160380784278589</id><published>2009-02-11T00:15:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T02:01:15.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And some idiot tried to break into my house...</title><content type='html'>He was clearly an idiot because: &lt;br /&gt;1) I was home&lt;br /&gt;2) There were over a hundred witnesses playing at recess across the street (and these kids see things because I see them watching me when I'm outside)&lt;br /&gt;3) He was thwarted by a wooden gate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I was in bed and heard loud noises coming from the side of my house, but figured it was either the neighbors or the kids at recess. When I went out to get the mail, however, I saw car tracks in my driveway (it snowed last night) and footprints going from the car around the house to the gate. The gate had quite clearly been pushed and shoved very hard. Happily, my gate isn't so much locked as held in place by iron bars stuck deep in the ground. Right now, these bars are quite frozen into the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had the bastard actually made it through the gate and tried to break in the back, he would have been met by my fierce attack dog and an angry E (and one would hope quickly the police).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5413160380784278589?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5413160380784278589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5413160380784278589' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5413160380784278589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5413160380784278589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-some-idiot-tried-to-break-into-my.html' title='And some idiot tried to break into my house...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3075417590497240604</id><published>2009-02-10T01:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T01:30:53.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>$5 for Any Footlong Sub?</title><content type='html'>Why were there not signs posted everywhere telling me this when I got my usual not favorite sub this afternoon? Damn them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3075417590497240604?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3075417590497240604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3075417590497240604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3075417590497240604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3075417590497240604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/5-for-any-footlong-sub.html' title='$5 for Any Footlong Sub?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3910650586762345065</id><published>2009-02-08T23:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:12:00.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of Captain Confusion</title><content type='html'>The new MLB network seems to be in an all Randy Johnson, all the time mode. Today, I got to watch him strikeout 19 Reds players including one Juan Castro. In a delightful turn of events, this very hot all glove, no bat shortstop was playing first base for the first time since eighth grade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late in the game, Dennys Reyes made a cameo appearance and did not suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just to clarify - No, I did not watch the whole game I just kind of flipped back every once in a while during commercials.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3910650586762345065?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3910650586762345065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3910650586762345065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3910650586762345065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3910650586762345065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/return-of-captain-confusion.html' title='The Return of Captain Confusion'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-7848670461220061910</id><published>2009-02-05T22:35:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T22:50:34.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Valentine's Package EVER</title><content type='html'>As you probably don't know, I work for a travel website analyzing and reviewing hotel deals. Today I came upon the greatest thing ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Stupid Cupid" Anti-Valentine's Day Package&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just say "No" to Valentine's Day hype and rhetoric and celebrate alone time at the Denver Airport Marriott. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day hoopla getting you down?  Need a respite from romantic couples and overcrowded restaurants and bars?  Had enough of the Valentine's Day meat market?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Denver Airport Marriott invites you to avoid "schmoopys","cupcakes", "wuvy wuvs" and nonsensical Cupids on Valentine's Day and join us on our Stupid Cupid package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Stupid Cupid package includes:&lt;br /&gt; • Cookie amenity delivered to your room&lt;br /&gt; • A "Split" of wine &lt;br /&gt; • "Turndown" service&lt;br /&gt; • Complimentary local calls&lt;br /&gt; • A premium movie of your choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tempted to go just because this hotel's marketing person is clearly awesome and I want them to succeed. Other anti-valentine's packages haven't been quite so overt in their opposition to the holiday so they aren't as cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-7848670461220061910?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/7848670461220061910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=7848670461220061910' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7848670461220061910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/7848670461220061910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/best-valentines-package-ever.html' title='Best Valentine&apos;s Package EVER'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2805956280015842444</id><published>2009-02-05T01:31:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T01:36:06.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want His Car</title><content type='html'>So as I debate the wisdom of continuing to see, I'm stuck on the fact that his car turns me on. Maybe we should stop seeing each other so I'll stop with the car lust. It should not be locked all lonely in a garage. It should be mine. I want it. How do I get his classic little red BMW?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2805956280015842444?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2805956280015842444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2805956280015842444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2805956280015842444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2805956280015842444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-want-his-car.html' title='I Want His Car'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5036033059376611500</id><published>2009-02-02T01:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T01:53:51.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Dating</title><content type='html'>I've been pretty bored recently so I decided for whatever reason that dating might be a good way to make things interesting. I'm not really sure what I was thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this weekend I went on date #2 with an engineer we'll call "B". Date #1 was fine and involved food. I like food so I figured I could handle another date. Last night I went to a charity banquet. But first, because B is apparently one of those rare males who listens when women talk, he took me to Home Depot to get the last few tiles I needed to finish my bathroom floor. He even paid for them - all $2.89 worth. After a stop at his house so he could change, we went to the banquet. There I was introduced to his entire family and most of the family's friends. Oh yes, there is nothing more fun than meeting the parents on a second date. But people kept supplying me with alcohol so I did just fine. Hooray for liquor! Then someone bought his sister a puppy and the dog spent a good hour trying to eat my purse. More distractions! Alcohol and puppies work well. I was also razzed mercilessly by one guy about where I live and where my parents live. Three people apologized for him. I found him highly entertaining. Also, I was quite drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And really this story has no point except that this dating thing will work out as long as alcohol is involved and I remain just sober enough to not do anything stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5036033059376611500?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5036033059376611500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5036033059376611500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5036033059376611500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5036033059376611500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/02/adventures-in-dating.html' title='Adventures in Dating'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-2234347888982168630</id><published>2009-01-30T17:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T17:40:05.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tax Returns Have Been Accepted</title><content type='html'>Does this mean the Feds can reject them? I'm to expect my refund in the next few weeks. Hello money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I got on a scale the other day. I haven't been on one in about six months. It seems I've dropped 15 pounds. You know weight is damn annoying. I started to watch my food intake (I was overeating horribly) and exercising because my clothes were getting too tight and I didn't want to buy new ones. Now my damn clothes are too loose. Where is the middle ground? I just can't win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-2234347888982168630?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/2234347888982168630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=2234347888982168630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2234347888982168630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/2234347888982168630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-tax-returns-have-been-accepted.html' title='My Tax Returns Have Been Accepted'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8031913470225702899</id><published>2009-01-29T02:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T02:06:18.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Pillow</title><content type='html'>I don't who it was that posted a picture of the "man pillow" -the one that's like a torso - but I had to laugh because a friend who is currently locked in a hospital room for the next five weeks has her man pillow with her. Apparently, he's quite comfortable and goes well with her "I Love Sex" hat. She posted a picture today of the "man" getting the transplant right along with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8031913470225702899?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8031913470225702899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8031913470225702899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8031913470225702899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8031913470225702899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/man-pillow.html' title='Man Pillow'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1885097464160754106</id><published>2009-01-27T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T22:52:40.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Headline</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;For only the second time in recorded U.S. history, a California woman gave birth to live octuplets. The odds of being struck by lightning are better.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not gonna lie. I think I'd rather be struck by lightning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1885097464160754106?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1885097464160754106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1885097464160754106' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1885097464160754106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1885097464160754106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/headline.html' title='Headline'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1476727098759125405</id><published>2009-01-22T22:07:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:20:28.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>The job market continues to sink as reported to me by my best friend, who incidentally is also unemployed. Last week, she told me she'd been dragged to a career fair. There were four companies at the fair. Ouch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to talk maybe once every couple of months. Now she calls at least once a week if for no reason than to report that she's had no luck. I guess some good things come out of joblessness - although at least I do work, just not as much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early this week, I heard back from a company I had applied to over four months ago. Continuing the application will require no less than 8-10 hours of work and oh, it needs to be in their hands next Monday. I question is it worth it? I think yes, but I feel like I'm back in college during finals week. There are tests and papers to write. It's like that line in the Goonies, I feel like I'm babysitting, except I'm not getting paid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1476727098759125405?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1476727098759125405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1476727098759125405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1476727098759125405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1476727098759125405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1890195678417008518</id><published>2009-01-19T14:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T15:01:38.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Grand?</title><content type='html'>Screw the stimulus package, give me my refund. I actually received my W-2 last week. And surprisingly all my other investment/banking people have sent me statements for all the other crap I need. So I started doing my taxes only to discover I need to fill out Schedule C, but you can't fill out Schedule C without filling out Schedule SE and you can't fill out Schedule SE without first completing Form 8809 and 8870 or something. I'm sure to fill those two forms there will be more forms to fill out. I'm giving up and paying to have my taxes done. It should not be this difficult to report $2000 worth of income. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially since, according to my rough calculations, that's exactly what the government owes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have my sheets out on the line today. Yay for fresh air and sunshine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1890195678417008518?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1890195678417008518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1890195678417008518' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1890195678417008518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1890195678417008518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/two-grand.html' title='Two Grand?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-5249008467801401149</id><published>2009-01-17T00:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T01:29:42.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catharsis</title><content type='html'>I'm very careful about what I write on this blog. I waited several months before telling the story in the last post. Partly because I'm just now getting to where it's not just an irrational, expletive laden rant on evil assholes and partly because I'd had a long discussion with a friend earlier in the day and I wanted to get my thoughts straight. I wrote it for me and it was cathartic. It wasn't meant to say anything about anyone but me. If anything, it was a cautionary tale to myself that things can be bad and they can be hellish, and sometimes I just need to stop and assess where I am and what I should do about it. Get the bitterness out and move the fuck on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't I quit instead of letting things get to where they got? What the hell was I doing to myself for all those months? Because while I could blame the job, ultimately it fell on me to do something about it. Why wasn't I looking for new jobs last April (when companies were actually hiring)? Why was I just miserably trooping into my office day after day? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I realized how destructive the situation was, I finally started looking into ways around the very real barriers to finding adequate paying work in a very rural location. But you know that was several months later than it should have been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how bad it seems, there are always options. I should have done something and I'm pissed as hell at myself for not acting before things started affecting my health, my self-confidence and my personal life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-5249008467801401149?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/5249008467801401149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=5249008467801401149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5249008467801401149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/5249008467801401149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/catharsis.html' title='Catharsis'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-4469413260199212615</id><published>2009-01-12T03:51:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T04:00:42.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Liquor Just Makes It Better</title><content type='html'>My parents are really big lately on coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. And then they add Bailey's. Having spent quite a bit of time with them in the past couple months, I ended up adopting this coffee habit (although more so to keep warm than anything). Of course, I like to add lots and lots of Bailey's to a little coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also like to try to use up milk before it goes bad. I don't drink milk, but I need it for cooking. When the best by date is coming, I try to make something. Last week I made chocolate pudding, then I added Bailey's. It's definitely better with the liquor. And I can now call it drunken chocolate pudding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-4469413260199212615?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/4469413260199212615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=4469413260199212615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4469413260199212615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/4469413260199212615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/liquor-just-makes-it-better.html' title='Liquor Just Makes It Better'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-348653739981742431</id><published>2009-01-09T01:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T01:25:33.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's My W-2?</title><content type='html'>As a self-employed person, I'm required to file and pay "estimated" taxes which is total bullshit and is yet another way the government rapes the citizens of this country. Apparently, it's perfectly okay to have nothing taken out of your paycheck and then make a year end payment if you're an "employee", but screw you if you want to be your own boss. And it's not a tax for what you've earned in the quarter that you're filing for, but rather a forced payment of a quarter of what you might make for the entire year. And the government is a bastard to seasonal employees about this. But that's a post for another day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, I learned that the January filing and payment are not required if you file your 2008 taxes by the 2nd of February. So I need my damn W-2 to avoid having to figure out the ridiculousness that is Estimated Taxes for another three months. How tough can it be to print and mail me this document? I think companies wait just to piss people off and believe me, I'm already plenty pissed at this company. I don't need another reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-348653739981742431?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/348653739981742431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=348653739981742431' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/348653739981742431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/348653739981742431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/wheres-my-w-2.html' title='Where&apos;s My W-2?'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-3180845553413828054</id><published>2009-01-06T23:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T23:43:38.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiots and Cold Weather</title><content type='html'>It was really cold this weekend. Cold enough that I went downstairs and freaked out about the temperature and what could happen to the pipes. I kept a fire going in my woodstove all weekend. Nice way to keep everything warm and save on the heating bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was watching a story on the news about the cold and they interviewed a family whose pipes had burst and flooded their newly finished basement. Oh too bad. Then the lady said that when they woke up they'd had no water in their kitchen and were worried the pipes were frozen and hoped they didn't burst. They went off to Mormon church (4 hours long) and came home to lots of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I ask you, if it was -20, you had no water in your kitchen, you suspected frozen pipes and you were leaving the house for hours, wouldn't you turn off the water to the house? Sure the pipe will burst, but at least you wouldn't flood your house. I feel little sympathy for these idiots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3180845553413828054?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3180845553413828054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3180845553413828054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3180845553413828054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3180845553413828054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2009/01/idiots-and-cold-weather.html' title='Idiots and Cold Weather'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8535439392238838339</id><published>2008-12-31T01:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T01:48:40.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Food &amp; Drink</title><content type='html'>Jimmy John's is on my list. My brother and I walked from his house over there in freaking subzero temperatures and the bastards had a sign on the door telling us that due to the cold, we needed to use the mall entrance which was another block away and around the corner. Boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chili's, on the other hand, is awesome. They had 2 for 1 margaritas for $3. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8535439392238838339?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8535439392238838339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8535439392238838339' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8535439392238838339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8535439392238838339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/12/food-drink.html' title='Food &amp; Drink'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-6397622578279365764</id><published>2008-12-19T18:49:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T19:02:29.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bathroom, A Real Bathroom!</title><content type='html'>After being unusable for over 18 months (basically since I moved in), my master bathroom is now beautifully and wonderfully available again for use. It has a floor and everything! Also, more light. And no orange walls. Did I mention the floor yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures can't do it justice. And I seem to have only taken one before shot (and that was pre-floor removal. But here's the before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxRbkr-IhI/AAAAAAAAAFg/R9PKDltUI3k/s1600-h/Bathroom+Before.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxRbkr-IhI/AAAAAAAAAFg/R9PKDltUI3k/s320/Bathroom+Before.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281685997145170450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the after. My dad, the not so much electrician, even managed to wire around the corner and get vanity lights installed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxRr9lMVwI/AAAAAAAAAFo/TLNDRxxmRbY/s1600-h/Bathroom+After.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxRr9lMVwI/AAAAAAAAAFo/TLNDRxxmRbY/s320/Bathroom+After.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281686278705534722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxSJvAvbBI/AAAAAAAAAF4/9RXyZvDYXPA/s1600-h/Bathroom+After+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxSJvAvbBI/AAAAAAAAAF4/9RXyZvDYXPA/s320/Bathroom+After+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281686790190623762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-6397622578279365764?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/6397622578279365764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=6397622578279365764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6397622578279365764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/6397622578279365764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/12/bathroom-real-bathroom.html' title='A Bathroom, A Real Bathroom!'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1i2y60eEuzU/SUxRbkr-IhI/AAAAAAAAAFg/R9PKDltUI3k/s72-c/Bathroom+Before.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22039496.post-8602237456117181992</id><published>2008-12-13T00:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T00:40:57.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to do it better than baseball</title><content type='html'>Many people I know seem to be annoyed when Proud To Be An American is played during the 7th inning stretch at a ball game. Now I've never really had a problem with it but I can see why people may be annoyed at the cheesy attempt at patriotism. Anyway, I was at the National Finals Rodeo this weekend and they showed how it can be done to effect. And since the entire baseball world was also gathered Las Vegas, maybe they picked up on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's how to effectively play the song...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Gather the most patriotic, flag waving, god bless America crowd you can find. &lt;br /&gt;2. Make the night a theme of America Night and give everyone big flags (they have a Canada Night and a Tough Enough to Wear Pink Night for breast cancer so this theme isn't a one night thing).&lt;br /&gt;3. Pick a date that's actually significant to remember America's military sacrifices - Pearl Harbor Day works.&lt;br /&gt;4. Dim the lights and show a film of the attack.&lt;br /&gt;5. Start playing the music.&lt;br /&gt;6. Bring out some Pearl Harbor survivors. Have them escorted by active military personnel.&lt;br /&gt;7. In a surprise move, have Lee Greenwood walk out and actually sing the song himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voila. A not so cheesy display of patriotism. It helped that the Pearl Harbor guys got into it - in spite of the fact that they're like 90.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8602237456117181992?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8602237456117181992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8602237456117181992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8602237456117181992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8602237456117181992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-to-do-it-better-than-baseball.html' title='How to do it better than baseball'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3031480886138681829</id><published>2008-12-05T11:23:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:25:39.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva Las Vegas</title><content type='html'>I'm heading out to Sin City this evening for a weekend of Not Wyoming. I plan to enjoy myself immensely even though I really hate gambling (I'd be fine with it if I ever won but I don't so I hate it). Still it's Vegas and good times are easy to find in the Bright Light City.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3031480886138681829?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3031480886138681829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3031480886138681829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3031480886138681829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3031480886138681829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/12/viva-las-vegas.html' title='Viva Las Vegas'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-3254223220401173893</id><published>2008-12-01T22:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T23:04:56.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>North Dakota - Just Say No</title><content type='html'>North Dakota is a miserable, evil state. I think it enjoys doing things to its roads to make things difficult. I've decided that this evil doing is being led by that malicious cow, Salem Sue. Oh yes. Clearly the cow is still upset that we tried to tip her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made it snow only in a 10 mile radius of her hill. Snow so badly that I couldn't see a damn thing which caused a delay. 17 hours in a damn car - I don't want any freaking delays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back, she decided that the 10 mile radius was not enough and made the entire freeway from Fargo to Dickinson snow covered, wind blown and icy. 50 miles an hour across the entire state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't the northern Dakota be more like its neighbor to the south? Its roads are pleasant and even when snowy, not icy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-3254223220401173893?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/3254223220401173893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=3254223220401173893' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3254223220401173893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/3254223220401173893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/12/north-dakota-just-say-no.html' title='North Dakota - Just Say No'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-1703087387881999475</id><published>2008-11-24T23:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T23:22:15.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barry Manilow Ruins the 80s</title><content type='html'>You know, I could see Manilow singing hits of the 50s and 60s. It didn't bother me. However, Manilow singing Journey or Wham. No.  What next? Barry does the 90s featuring Pearl Jam's Black?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must be stopped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-1703087387881999475?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/1703087387881999475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=1703087387881999475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1703087387881999475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/1703087387881999475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/11/barry-manilow-ruins-80s.html' title='Barry Manilow Ruins the 80s'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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-22039496.post-8605388374424666500</id><published>2008-11-14T21:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T21:27:53.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Barack Obama</title><content type='html'>I'd like to give you a chance, I really would but your choice in teams does not bode well for your judgment. When I see the words White Sox Superfan after your name I cringe. Really you'll have to do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/132/360551591_0829d14ec5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/132/360551591_0829d14ec5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22039496-8605388374424666500?l=irogepek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/feeds/8605388374424666500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22039496&amp;postID=8605388374424666500' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8605388374424666500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22039496/posts/default/8605388374424666500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irogepek.blogspot.com/2008/11/dear-barack-obama.html' title='Dear Barack Obama'/><author><name>E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09566781393325118875</uri><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://farm1.static.flickr.com/132/360551591_0829d14ec5_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
