<?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-7002569</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:32:32.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopaholics Anonymous</title><subtitle type='html'>Frugal is such a dirty word!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-110600202223658238</id><published>2005-01-17T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T17:47:02.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuckity Fuck Fuck</title><content type='html'>Why do I have an easy time telling him about things that I don't really want to talk to my other friends about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-110600202223658238?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/110600202223658238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=110600202223658238' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110600202223658238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110600202223658238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2005/01/fuckity-fuck-fuck.html' title='Fuckity Fuck Fuck'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-110567031264894812</id><published>2005-01-13T21:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T21:38:32.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" width="250"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size:18px;font-family:Verdana"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I AM 58% ASSHOLE/BITCH!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fuali.com/test.aspx?id=115"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.fuali.com/pix/115/3.gif" alt="58% ASSHOLE/BITCH" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="font-size:10px;font-family:Verdana"&gt;I am abrasive, some people really hate me, but there may be a group of other tight knit assholes and bitches that I can hang out with and get me. Everybody else? Fuck ‘em.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size:12px;font-family:Verdana"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fuali.com/test.aspx?id=115"&gt;Take the ASSHOLE/BITCH test at Fuali.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-110567031264894812?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/110567031264894812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=110567031264894812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110567031264894812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110567031264894812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-am-58-assholebitchi-am-abrasive-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-110230375580105287</id><published>2004-12-05T22:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T21:19:28.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know that no one believes me but it's not him that I miss it's what he represents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-110230375580105287?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/110230375580105287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=110230375580105287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110230375580105287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110230375580105287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-know-that-no-one-believes-me-but-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-110178295121687309</id><published>2004-11-29T21:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T23:33:07.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I think someone peed in my gene pool</title><content type='html'>I had to get one of my X-mas gifts tonight and some groceries and my mom needed gas so I opted to go with her. Now she's been talking about how badly the inside of her windshield needs to be clean for oh I dunno at least 2 mths now. So we're at the gas station and I'm cleaning off the outside of her windshield with the squegee thing and I was saying how it was too bad that I couldn't use it on the inside of the windshield. She actually didn't think that there'd be anything wrong with this, I on the other hand saw the obvious problems with using the gas station squegee on the inside of your car and refused to do it. I bet you can see where this is going. After I finsih doing the windows I go and sit back in the car only to have my mother get in the car with the squegee and proceed to wash her windows....and pretty much the whole dashboard. I could nothing but shake my head and laugh. Yes folks this is the gene pool I've been forced to play in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-110178295121687309?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/110178295121687309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=110178295121687309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110178295121687309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/110178295121687309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-think-someone-peed-in-my-gene-pool.html' title='I think someone peed in my gene pool'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109876067193555373</id><published>2004-10-25T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T22:32:02.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Cashmere</title><content type='html'>As anyone that's remotely a shopper knows we've just entered a new clothing season this of course means that I must make my quarterly trip across the river to America. First of all lucky me the dollar was a whole whopping 82 cents!! Although some of you may not find this very good it sure as hell beats the 68 cents I was paying last year. Yeah I know you're thinking why bother going over there to shop when the dollar is in the crapper. Simple....I don't buy things I can get in Canada afterall if I can't buy it here how am I really getting hosed for it? (Yes I can justify the purchase of pretty much anything if I want it bad enough.) Which leads me to the reason I'm actually writing anything here today. When I was coming back across I of course had stuff to claim (no I'm not crazy for claiming if you bought as much as I did you'd do it to, I just don't claim everything :)) so I was asking how much the duty was going to be, oh excuse me anal border people, *tax* on what I purchased. As I started to complain about it the guy to asked me if I thought that I should be rewarded for supporting a foreign economy, well duh! I asked him if he wanted to know my theory as to why. I think that since I buy products that can't be purchased in Canada that I shouldn't have to pay duty. Afterall am I not helping the Canadian economy because I'm propping up the US economy which happens to be our largest trading partner? So if I can prove to you that what I bought isn't available in this wonderful country then I should get off scot free. To my credit he agreed with me but he still charged me duty anyways, dirty bastard!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109876067193555373?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109876067193555373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109876067193555373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109876067193555373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109876067193555373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-love-cashmere.html' title='I Love Cashmere'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109417866449378747</id><published>2004-09-02T21:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T21:31:04.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I never thought of it that way...</title><content type='html'>"To compliment and add a but before critisim is demeaning." You know my boss does this all the time to the people that work for her and I've never liked it but didn't until now have words to describe how it makes ya feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109417866449378747?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109417866449378747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109417866449378747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109417866449378747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109417866449378747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-never-thought-of-it-that-way.html' title='I never thought of it that way...'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109417051555960263</id><published>2004-09-02T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T19:15:15.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I paranoid?</title><content type='html'>I think my mother might be on to my scheme with the bf. As you've read he thinks I'm smart and I know this because Sparky over heard a conversation that he was having with my mother, a whole 5 minute conversation, which for him is like an eternity! My mother claims not to remember it though, I don't know how you couldn't remember an historic event like that! I know she's getting old and she's not always the sharpest pencil in the box but I think she'd remember a 5 min. conversation with the man who never speaks about how he thinks her daughter is smart. This all leads to a scary conclusion, my mother's on to me!! She knows all about my crush and how I want to hug him and love him and call him george and do a few other things to him I shouldn't mention here and therefore as a way to discourage me from liking him even more has decided to act like the conversation never happened! She's a sly one I tell you when she sets her mind to it. I know this may sound paranoid but those that know my parents (and read the blog) know that their thought processes works in strange ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109417051555960263?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109417051555960263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109417051555960263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109417051555960263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109417051555960263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/09/am-i-paranoid.html' title='Am I paranoid?'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109407639688065759</id><published>2004-09-01T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-01T17:29:47.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am so smart, S-M-R-T</title><content type='html'>So I figured something out today that the bf was helping me with but has been too busy to lately but I managed to figure myself what I needed to do to fix the problem. I must say I was very proud of myself so I called him up and sung the I am so smart song, if I didn't scare him before the singing has done it now!! Anyways I was telling this story to Sparky and he went on to tell me that my bf was telling my mom last week that she should be proud of me cause he was impressed with how smart I am! I can't believe he didn't tell me that until today, he claims he did but I know he didn't! That makes up a little bit for the karma, but not quite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109407639688065759?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109407639688065759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109407639688065759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109407639688065759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109407639688065759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-am-so-smart-s-m-r-t.html' title='I am so smart, S-M-R-T'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109407481697712060</id><published>2004-09-01T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T21:50:47.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma's a Bitch, I hate her</title><content type='html'>So it was the staff BBQ today which I thought might be a good chance to mingle with Polkaroo and everything was looking up when I went over to get the free gift we get and he was coming out the door, score! Or so I think cause after he gets his freebie he goes back inside :( So off I head to get my lunch and all that so I grab a seat with some people that I know and eat with them and when I'm done eating I decide to go and visit with some others. Low and behold he comes back out to have his lunch by now the table I was at is full, except for one seat. Bf of course and looking around for a place to sit and bloody hell, where do you think he sat?!?!? You got it, at the friggin' table I was already at!!!! Son of a *$%#@ Bloody hell it must be her time of the month!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109407481697712060?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109407481697712060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109407481697712060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109407481697712060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109407481697712060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/09/karmas-bitch-i-hate-her.html' title='Karma&apos;s a Bitch, I hate her'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109400312966735720</id><published>2004-08-31T20:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-01T17:35:25.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreamworks IPO? IPNo!?!?!</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching the first episode of Father of The Pride I thought that it was gonna be pretty funny, afterall it is from the creators of Shrek. Well it wasn't ok I laughed once but that tiny bit of haha was overshadowed by the ending of the episode. Two primates are walking down the path from one end and walking towards them is Sigfried &amp;amp; Roy, the one monkey obviously doesn't want to be seen by Sigfried, (or is it Roy, I don't know the difference other than it was the one that wasn't mauled by the tiger,) and as they pass each other all the monkey says something like about how office romances are never a good idea, hello!?!?!?!? I get the whole thing about a cartoon not suited for children but I don't get cartoons suitable for those that enjoy beastiality! It was just a bad ending to a very disappointing animation viewing experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109400312966735720?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109400312966735720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109400312966735720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109400312966735720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109400312966735720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/dreamworks-ipo-ipno.html' title='Dreamworks IPO? IPNo!?!?!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109381905719217813</id><published>2004-08-29T17:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-29T17:51:43.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>365 Dumps</title><content type='html'>What does it say about the kind of people I hang around with and am related to will enjoy this blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://365dumps.blogspot.com/"&gt;365 Dumps&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109381905719217813?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109381905719217813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109381905719217813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109381905719217813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109381905719217813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/365-dumps.html' title='365 Dumps'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109372880509604469</id><published>2004-08-28T16:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-28T16:33:25.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion Victim #8743</title><content type='html'>As if sandals with sock isn't bad enough how about when those socks have holes in them? If your socks have holes, doesn't that defeat the purpose when you wear them with sandals?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109372880509604469?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109372880509604469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109372880509604469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109372880509604469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109372880509604469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/fashion-victim-8743.html' title='Fashion Victim #8743'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109371271901790761</id><published>2004-08-28T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-28T12:12:22.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It is possible to scare someone but not in a bad way?</title><content type='html'>Apparently I may frighten the man I have a crush on. I had occasion to spend a bit of time with him at work this week which made me love him even more because I never knew he was so friggin' funny and like good funny, monty phython funny. Anyways, I was gushing to Marigold (previous posts will tell you who she is) about how I love him because he helped me with my computer problem and that I never knew he was so funny, she was surprised I didn't know that and I told her it was because he never speaks much to me. So she went on to tell me that that's probably because I scare the poor guy!?!?!?!? By scare she means basically that I come into their dept. all boisterous, loud and like I own the place is what I believe she said. Is this a good thing or a bad thing or a nothing??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109371271901790761?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109371271901790761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109371271901790761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109371271901790761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109371271901790761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/it-is-possible-to-scare-someone-but.html' title='It is possible to scare someone but not in a bad way?'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109347825981825540</id><published>2004-08-25T18:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T18:57:39.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On a happier note</title><content type='html'>I bought an iPod on the weekend so I'm taking another poll. What songs must I have on my new toy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109347825981825540?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109347825981825540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109347825981825540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109347825981825540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109347825981825540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/on-happier-note.html' title='On a happier note'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109347678471926955</id><published>2004-08-25T18:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T18:33:04.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you....</title><content type='html'>ever have one of those days where life just seems so hard? I had a day like that yesterday. Actually I've been having a few weeks like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109347678471926955?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109347678471926955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109347678471926955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109347678471926955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109347678471926955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/do-you.html' title='Do you....'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109279633424249213</id><published>2004-08-17T21:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T21:34:26.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A rose by any other name....</title><content type='html'>So &lt;a href="http://georgethesuperbug.blogspot.com"&gt;Ladybug&lt;/a&gt; has requested that I put something to a vote, I have no idea why it's not like it's going to matter as the only people that read this blog are her and I. I g uess I'll humor her seeing as I never usually listen to her :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, for those that do/don't read my blog regularly you may have heard be refer to someone as Polkaroo or my bf, both nicknames refer to a certain person that I have a crush on that shall remain nameless. Alas it seems that LB doesn't like that I call him Polkaroo. Why Polkaroo you ask? Well as a small Canadian child I used to watch a show called Polka Dot Door which was hosted by a man and a woman. Near the end of the show a character named Polkaroo would arrive always when the male host wasn't around leading him to think that the woman was making Polkaroo up. We've basically had the same situation at work, everyone but this one girl has seen the crush in question but she's only heard about him just like on the Polka Dot Door, hence the nickname.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, LB being one of my bestest friends has heard a lot about the crush one of those things is that he's fairly religious natured leading her to give him the nickname of Thumper. If you've seen him Thumper just doesn't seem to suit him I don't think. So that brings us to the reason for this blog entry, what should we call him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are your choices:&lt;br /&gt;a) Polkaroo&lt;br /&gt;b) Thumper&lt;br /&gt;c) Other, please list&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I highly suspect that is gonna end up in a tie seeing as LB and I are the only ones that read this thing, but we'll see maybe someone else out there will check this out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109279633424249213?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109279633424249213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109279633424249213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279633424249213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279633424249213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/rose-by-any-other-name.html' title='A rose by any other name....'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109279391012263804</id><published>2004-08-17T20:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T20:52:55.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you tell I'm bored?</title><content type='html'>&lt;form action="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/do-survey.php" method="post" target="_new"&gt;&lt;table bordercolor="#efefef" cellspacing="0" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The \\&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="The+%5C%5C%5C%5C" name="question1"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="2" name="type1"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Cigarette:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Never&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Cigarette%3A" name="question2"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type2"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Alcoholic Drink:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;umm...I don't remember, is that a good thing?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Alcoholic+Drink%3A" name="question3"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type3"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Car Ride:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The one that brought me home from work&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Car+Ride%3A" name="question4"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type4"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Kiss:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;whenever I saw smuey last&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Kiss%3A" name="question5"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Good Cry:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;too many lately&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Good+Cry%3A" name="question6"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type6"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Library Book:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;something I took out for a paper in university&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Library+Book%3A" name="question7"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type7"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last book bought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;there's so many I can't remember&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+book+bought%3A" name="question8"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type8"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Book Read:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Die In Plain Sight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Book+Read%3A" name="question9"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type9"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Movie Seen in Theatres:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Village&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Movie+Seen+in+Theatres%3A" name="question10"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type10"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Movie Rented:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kill Bill Vol. 2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Movie+Rented%3A" name="question11"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type11"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Cuss Word Uttered:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fan-Fuckingtastic&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Cuss+Word+Uttered%3A" name="question12"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type12"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Beverage Drank:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Diet Coke w/Lime&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Beverage+Drank%3A" name="question13"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type13"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Food Consumed:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;cheese slices&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Food+Consumed%3A" name="question14"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type14"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Crush:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Polkaroo, definately Polkaroo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Crush%3A" name="question15"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type15"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Phone Call:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Some bitch called me from her work&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Phone+Call%3A" name="question16"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type16"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last TV Show Watched:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Big Brother&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+TV+Show+Watched%3A" name="question17"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type17"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Time Showered:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;This morning&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Time+Showered%3A" name="question18"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type18"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Shoes Worn:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;comfy roots ones&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Shoes+Worn%3A" name="question19"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type19"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last CD Played:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;cd's? what are they I do mp3's&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+CD+Played%3A" name="question20"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type20"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Item Bought:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;pictures I had developed&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Item+Bought%3A" name="question21"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type21"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Download:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maurice Chevalier - Thank Heaven For Little Girls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Download%3A" name="question22"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type22"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Annoyance:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;my job&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Annoyance%3A" name="question23"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type23"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Disappointment:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;my job&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Disappointment%3A" name="question24"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type24"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Soda Drank:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Diet Coke w/Lime&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Soda+Drank%3A" name="question25"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type25"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Thing Written:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;my blog entry "Why Ladybug &amp;amp; I Love Men's Olympic Swimming"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Thing+Written%3A" name="question26"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type26"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Key Used:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Key+Used%3A" name="question27"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type27"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Words Spoken:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I dunno I'm always muttering stuff to myself&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Words+Spoken%3A" name="question28"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type28"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Sleep:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;too long ago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Sleep%3A" name="question29"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type29"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Ice Cream Eaten:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;PC Caramel ice cream bar thing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Ice+Cream+Eaten%3A" name="question30"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Chair Sat In:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The one I'm sitting in now&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Chair+Sat+In%3A" name="question31"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type31"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Last Webpage Visited:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;http://lislaz.blogspot.com/&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Last+Webpage+Visited%3A" name="question32"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type32"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Take This Survey"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/create-survey.php"&gt;CREATE YOUR OWN!&lt;/a&gt; - or - &lt;a href="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/paid-surveys.php"&gt;GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109279391012263804?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109279391012263804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109279391012263804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279391012263804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279391012263804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/can-you-tell-im-bored.html' title='Can you tell I&apos;m bored?'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109279074531973497</id><published>2004-08-17T19:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T19:59:05.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Ladybug &amp; I Love Men's Olympic Swimming</title><content type='html'>1. Tiny little speedos&lt;br /&gt;2. Muscles, mucles &amp; more mucles&lt;br /&gt;3. Big hands &amp;amp; feet, you know what that means :)&lt;br /&gt;4. Polkaroo likes to do laps at lunch, (ok maybe that one's just for me :))&lt;br /&gt;5. Stamina, especially those 400 metre swimmers&lt;br /&gt;6. Guaranteed to be backhair free!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109279074531973497?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109279074531973497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109279074531973497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279074531973497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279074531973497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/why-ladybug-i-love-mens-olympic.html' title='Why Ladybug &amp; I Love Men&apos;s Olympic Swimming'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109279033413698720</id><published>2004-08-17T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T19:52:14.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Canada</title><content type='html'>We may not put you in prison but we will try and scare the crap out of you! (no pun intended)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.azcentral.com/offbeat/articles/0809scary-judge09-ON.html"&gt;http://www.azcentral.com/offbeat/articles/0809scary-judge09-ON.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109279033413698720?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109279033413698720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109279033413698720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279033413698720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109279033413698720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-love-canada.html' title='I Love Canada'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109255047246690771</id><published>2004-08-15T00:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-15T01:14:32.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For men that wonder</title><content type='html'>So if you read my blog on somewhat of a regular basis (does anyone even read this thing other than that one bitchy girl? :P) you know about my friend who lost her husband last month. Well I was talking to her on the phone today and she started telling me about this cab ride she had this week. For unimportant reasons she ended up in a cab  for an extended period of time with 3 other people, one of which was a guy about our age. During the drive it came out that she had recently lost her husband at which time everyone offered her they're condolences and support I'm sure. When she went to get out of the cab someone offered her something a little more. Seems as though the man in the car thought he saw a golden opportunity because he said to her as she was getting out, "so uh, can I get your phone number?" Uhh....hello?!?!?!? Some people really have no clue do they? I'm sure in some stupid way that he thought he was paying her a compliment or at least that's what the optimist in me would like to think. Unfortunately the reality of the situation is that he probably thought he could take advantage of her when her defences were down and had less than gentlemanly intentions shall we say? Boys can be really stupid sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109255047246690771?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109255047246690771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109255047246690771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109255047246690771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109255047246690771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/for-men-that-wonder.html' title='For men that wonder'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109244142146018842</id><published>2004-08-13T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-13T18:59:37.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently I'm a Sonnet</title><content type='html'>The Sonnet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/deliberate.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Deliberate &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/gentle.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Gentle &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/love.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Love &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/dreamer.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Dreamer&lt;/a&gt; (DGLDf)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romantic, hopeful, and composed. You are the Sonnet. Get it? Composed? Sonnets want Love and have high ideals about it. They're conscientious people, caring &amp;amp; careful. You yourself have deep convictions, and you devote a lot of thought to romance and what it should be. This will frighten away most potential mates, but that's okay, because you're very choosy with your affections anyway. You'd absolutely refuse to date someone dumber than you, for instance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovers who share your idealized perspective, or who are at least willing to totally throw themselves into a relationship, will be very, very happy with you. And you with them. You're already selfless and compassionate, and with the right partner, there's no doubt you can be sensual, even adventurously so. You probably have lots of female friends, and they have a special soft spot for you. Babies do, too, at the tippy-top of their baby skulls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your exact opposite:Genghis Khunt &lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/random.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Random &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/brutal.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Brutal &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/sex.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Sex &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/master.gif'" onmouseout="javascript:document.thebigpicture12.src='http://is0.okcupid.com/graphics/persons/DGLDf.gif'" href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;Master&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALWAYS AVOID: The 5-Night Stand, The False Messiah, The Hornivore, The Last Man on Earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CONSIDER: The Loverboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how right this is because it actually makes me sound like I might be a nice person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can take the test too at &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest#"&gt;OkCupid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109244142146018842?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109244142146018842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109244142146018842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109244142146018842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109244142146018842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/apparently-im-sonnet.html' title='Apparently I&apos;m a Sonnet'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109237453484535805</id><published>2004-08-13T00:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-13T00:22:14.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Periods are stupid...PERIOD!</title><content type='html'>You know God isn't always that smart. I was thinking the other day that if he really wanted us to go forth and procreate shouldn't he have made having a period a more happy event? Like instead of having you be bloated and crampy make it so that for one week a month your stomach flattens out, you can eat anything you want and it wouldn't result in a massive eruption of zits on your face? And instead of your boobs getting so sore that a strong gust of wind makes you curl up in a ball from the pain they should grow bigger, firmer and perkier so instead of having period underwear we could all have period bras! I mean think about it ladies if all this happened wouldn't you feel better about yourself and wou'dn't you go out and meet men at bars and have strange monkey sex with them? Afterall for one week a month you'd be guaranteed to feel like a million bucks! Seems simple enough to me but mind you you've read what kind of gene pool my logic skills come from. All I know is that all that stuff about how wonderous and beautiful menstration is a complete load of shit and I have the cramps, bloating and a whole host of other things to prove it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109237453484535805?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109237453484535805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109237453484535805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109237453484535805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109237453484535805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/periods-are-stupidperiod.html' title='Periods are stupid...PERIOD!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109237337523480081</id><published>2004-08-13T00:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-13T00:02:55.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!!</title><content type='html'>How excited am I about the next Last comic Standing?!?!?!? This seasons comics are going to go head to head with last seasons comics. Do you know what this means?? That Dave Mordell has the chance to take his rightful place as the ultimate Last Comic Standing!! John Heffron is good but he's not Dave Mordell!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109237337523480081?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109237337523480081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109237337523480081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109237337523480081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109237337523480081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/omg.html' title='OMG!!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109228433093685143</id><published>2004-08-11T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T23:32:58.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I would...</title><content type='html'>just like to say that I'm very sad that Brian of the &lt;a href="http://gotasecond.blogspot.com"&gt;Got A Second &lt;/a&gt;Brian's has not commented on my blog as I have commented on several of his. :( He even commented on that bitch ladybug's blog and if it wasn't for me she wouldn't even know how to turn a computer on! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I should reconsider how entertaining I think that dumbass is :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109228433093685143?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109228433093685143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109228433093685143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228433093685143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228433093685143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-would.html' title='I would...'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109228308097802764</id><published>2004-08-11T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T23:33:50.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Wondering</title><content type='html'>Am I the only person with friends that feel the need to tell me when they have to do a number 2? Or that they have massive gas or better yet that they have the shits because of too much chocolate milk or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I especially when they say things like, "holy crap i think i dropped about 5lbs into the toilet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109228308097802764?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109228308097802764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109228308097802764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228308097802764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228308097802764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/just-wondering.html' title='Just Wondering'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109228201639158980</id><published>2004-08-11T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T22:40:16.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a thought</title><content type='html'>as I was on my way back to work after lunch today I got to thinking, yes I know scary thought, shut it Bitch, yes you :P I was thinking that I should go into friend of Polkaroo's office, let's call her Marigold, and just lay it on the line and tell her that I like Polkaroo and what does she think of that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knows lots about Polkaroo and could perhaps give me some insight into what my confession might mean but she would also most likely tell him which in that case I might as well tell him myself. I don't know what to do cause I'd like to get to know him better and I'd like to see if things would go anywhere but so much other craps been going on I don't want a bad outcome either. So if I say nothing that means everything stays the same and doesn't move forward which means that Polkaroo would never become my cuddle buddy. But if I say something and it all goes south then that means that he doesn't even have the potential anymore to become my cuddle buddy. Decisions, decisions, decisions!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109228201639158980?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109228201639158980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109228201639158980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228201639158980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109228201639158980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-had-thought.html' title='I had a thought'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109193847192329856</id><published>2004-08-07T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T17:07:17.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Village was directed by an idiot</title><content type='html'>If you're thinking of going and paying some of your hard earned $$$ on the new M. Night Shamaramalamadingdong (as I like to call him) think long and hard about spending it on another one that might be a little more worthy of your cash, especially $13.50. I'm not saying don't see it but on the Shopaholic Movie scale I'm being kind to say it's worth the $10 cheapie tuesday price but resounding renter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry I won't reveal any of the plot here so no need to worry about that other than to say I pretty much had it pegged before I saw it. Plain and simple I think that the man is losing his touch, those laughable Aliens in Signs should have been a sign to me. Seems to me that in The Village he got half way through and said to himself, "Self, I'm bored with this whole thing let's just finish this stupid movie I don't care what the other half turns out like." I think that what some of the new filmmakers are forgetting these days, because special effects can do some amazing stuff, is that sometimes there's a lot more impact with what you can't see than what you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now some people read movies reviews before they go to see a movie, me I like to read them after. So of course I've just been reading up about The Village and I think that Rob Vaux from Flipside Movie Emporium said it best, " As a failure, The Village is certainly interesting, but a failure it stubbornly remains." I also like what Scott Weinberg said at efilmcritic.com "When you find yourself bored and wishing a movie would speed up and get to the TWIST ENDING already...well, that's not a particularly good movie, now is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm so disappointed in it because like a lot of movies lately it had a *huge* amount of potential, perhaps even better than Sixth Sense but it just fell flat. I will see his next movie but be rest assured it will likely be when it comes out on DVD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109193847192329856?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109193847192329856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109193847192329856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109193847192329856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109193847192329856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/village-was-directed-by-idiot.html' title='The Village was directed by an idiot'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109193688929262691</id><published>2004-08-07T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T16:59:22.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're getting old when...</title><content type='html'>How sad is it that I just had a complete mental fart and couldn't even remember the name of my own blog? I actually had to log in and do the view blog in order to figure out what the link was. I'm getting old.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109193688929262691?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109193688929262691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109193688929262691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109193688929262691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109193688929262691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/you-know-youre-getting-old-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re getting old when...'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109191670710457832</id><published>2004-08-07T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T23:16:45.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our good luck never ends!</title><content type='html'>Looks like my families round of bad luck isn't over yet. Got news this morning that my cousin has cancer too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109191670710457832?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109191670710457832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109191670710457832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109191670710457832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109191670710457832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/our-good-luck-never-ends.html' title='Our good luck never ends!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109191642657386275</id><published>2004-08-07T17:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:11:29.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Standard</title><content type='html'>As I was walking downtown where I live I was noticing, as par the course in my quaint little village, all the women were quite well dressed. Sadly I couldn't say the same for the men that they were with. Now assuming that at one point they could actually dress themselves so that it didn't look like they put their clothes on with the lights out, at what point did it become ok for them to think that since they bagged their chick (yes, it's ok for me to say that) that they could dress like a slob? I somehow don't think that this would sit very well for women which is pretty sad. Afterall it's the woman that puts all the time and effort into their appearance whilst they're dating aforementioned guy. An effort that requires at least one hours worth of preparation before the date and at least a half an hour get all that crap off her face and peeling off the clothing that she squeezed into in the first place. The man on the other hand does the smells clean, looks clean test, checks to make sure his socks match and that he has condoms (optimistic bastards you are :)) That's not right, no wonder so many women do all the clothes shopping for their husbands, they want to reduce the risk of him leaving the house looking like he should be riding the short bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've seen the way that my father dresses himself you know that I have pretty good idea about what I'm talking about, think a polar fleece vest over a polar fleece jacket while wearing sandals with white sport socks. *shudders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109191642657386275?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109191642657386275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109191642657386275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109191642657386275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109191642657386275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/double-standard.html' title='Double Standard'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109175363341707153</id><published>2004-08-05T19:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:16:58.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What kind of bunny are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/EvilWithATwst/quizzes/What%20Happy%20Bunny%20Are%20You?/"&gt;What Kind of Bunny Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="KissAss" src="http://images.quizilla.com/E/EvilWithATwst/1044334734_ppy_bunny1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow You plainly just want everyone to kiss your&lt;br /&gt;ass. Weather it be for pleasure or telling them&lt;br /&gt;to go fuck themselves. You like this phrase and&lt;br /&gt;probably use it often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109175363341707153?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109175363341707153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109175363341707153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109175363341707153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109175363341707153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/what-kind-of-bunny-are-you.html' title='What kind of bunny are you?'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109175320079373553</id><published>2004-08-05T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:19:31.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Special kind of logic</title><content type='html'>So people that know me know that my parents have a logic all their own. I went out this afternoon with an almost dead cell phone battery but not really caring because well I have a charger in the car, afterall they call it a *car charger* for a reason. So I got in the car and went along my merry way, when I heard the phone beeping I was like oh yeah I have to charge it and went to plug it in but alas there was no charger plugged into the special charger place, no biggie it's probably just in the glove compartment. So of course I pop open the glove box and reach in for it but all I found were CD's and Map's. So I think to myself, "Self, isn't the only place a car charger is any good to you is in a *car*?" I know right now you're nodding your head agreeing with me, afterall it's the only logical place for it. Well, not if your my parents, not only do they not think it should be plugged into it's designated spot in the car apparently the think it belongs in the house. So much so that they can't even figure out where the put it. *shakes her head* I hope their logic isn't hereditary if it is I hope that someone has the good sense to take my out behind the house and shoot me like the lame horse I will have turned into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109175320079373553?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109175320079373553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109175320079373553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109175320079373553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109175320079373553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/special-kind-of-logic.html' title='Special kind of logic'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109157824352980907</id><published>2004-08-03T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:20:45.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What kind of Elitest are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/thebecca/quizzes/What%20Kind%20of%20Elitist%20Are%20You?/"&gt;What kind of Elitest are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a Book &amp;amp; Language Snob:&lt;br /&gt;You speak eloquently and have seemingly read every&lt;br /&gt;book ever published. You are a fountain of&lt;br /&gt;endless (sometimes useless) knowledge, and&lt;br /&gt;never fail to impress at a party.What people love: You can answer almost any&lt;br /&gt;question people ask, and have thus been&lt;br /&gt;nicknamed Jeeves.What people hate: You constantly correct their&lt;br /&gt;grammar and insult their paperbacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109157824352980907?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109157824352980907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109157824352980907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109157824352980907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109157824352980907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/08/what-kind-of-elitest-are-you.html' title='What kind of Elitest are you?'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109089744291376049</id><published>2004-07-26T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:21:35.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The fun continues..</title><content type='html'>I guess I was having too good of a day today...family friend died yesterday from her cancer....they think my great aunt's had a stroke now too and she's in the hospital. We're way past things happening in 3's and it's really not funny anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109089744291376049?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109089744291376049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109089744291376049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109089744291376049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109089744291376049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/fun-continues.html' title='The fun continues..'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109089000834291288</id><published>2004-07-26T19:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-26T20:03:17.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Asses of fire</title><content type='html'>Why is montezuma's revenge always funny when it happens to someone else but never when it happens to you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor sparky....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109089000834291288?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109089000834291288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109089000834291288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109089000834291288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109089000834291288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/asses-of-fire.html' title='Asses of fire'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109088994458886576</id><published>2004-07-26T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T18:27:56.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grammer Police</title><content type='html'>Btw, teacher friend whilst reading said blog please keep the red pen capped because proper grammer has no place in my blog!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109088994458886576?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109088994458886576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109088994458886576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088994458886576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088994458886576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/grammer-police.html' title='Grammer Police'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109088956975450402</id><published>2004-07-26T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:24:17.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids are funny</title><content type='html'>I was away this weekend visiting family and friday night I went out with my cousin who will be going off to university this fall. He's been conflicted about his schedule recently because his goal with it is to make university as easy as possible because he needs to maintain an 80% avg. in order to get into the 3rd year of his program. I can understand that I mean I wanted to get the best grades possible when I started (a goal that quickly morphed into what's the best I can do with the smallest amount of work, but alas this isn't about me.) So as it stands now he has something like a total of 17 hours of class /week or something like, 11 of which are in one day (!?!?!?!?). Hello, I don't even work that much in one day when they're paying me!! And trust me neither would he. So of course all us university grads are trying to impart our sage advice about scheduling on him but being the all knowing 17 year old that he is, (yes I know the fact that he's going to be just 17 when he starts in and of itself scares me, I was a pretty mature 19 and I had trouble with it all,) he thinks he knows everything. I quote, "Why are you guys being such pessimists? It's not like it's sink or swim in university, they ease you into it." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Those young kids today are so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh did I mention this is the same cousin whose paper my friend the teacher read 1.5 pages of and then refused to read anymore unless they were paying her to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109088956975450402?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109088956975450402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109088956975450402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088956975450402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088956975450402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/kids-are-funny.html' title='Kids are funny'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109088719897116459</id><published>2004-07-26T18:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:13:22.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crispy Critters</title><content type='html'>My friend went away on a camping trip this weekend with her bf. Now if you and I were redheaded with fair skin we would put sunscreen on more than just our foreheads wouldn't we? Well not if you're my friend.  So tonight I get a call asking me how to take care of blisters from a sunburn and I don't think she liked it very much when I heartily laughed, called her a dumbass and pointed out that she claims to only burn on her forehead. So it's not that she didn't take the sunscreen with her this weekend but that she made a concious decision to only put it on her forehead and wonders why she got burnt to the point of blistering. HAHA dumbass. I can hear her callin' me a bitch right now. Hey, if you can't laugh at your friends, who can you laugh at? I luff you Cindy-bindy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109088719897116459?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109088719897116459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109088719897116459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088719897116459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109088719897116459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/crispy-critters.html' title='Crispy Critters'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109028788695611824</id><published>2004-07-19T20:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T16:32:13.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So my friend is probably cursing my name right now because she's at work and waiting for me to email back which I haven't even though she called me already asking where her freakin' email was. I came to add a comment thingie to my blog instead which screwed up this other part of it which I had to fix. HA HA. Man I'm so gonna be in trouble with her now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109028788695611824?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109028788695611824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109028788695611824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109028788695611824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109028788695611824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/so-my-friend-is-probably-cursing-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109028487570901169</id><published>2004-07-19T19:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T19:56:43.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sparky had some bad news for me today, turns out that the bf's gonna be on vacation for 2 whole weeks!! That makes me sad :( Mind you I think the student that I work with is more upset about the whole thing than I am because she has some silly notion that she thinks that she can get he and I together before the summer's through. Good luck with that I tell her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109028487570901169?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109028487570901169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109028487570901169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109028487570901169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109028487570901169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/sparky-had-some-bad-news-for-me-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-109020401242441954</id><published>2004-07-18T20:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T20:25:33.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Clinton's "My Life", more like My Torture!!</title><content type='html'>So if you didn't know already from my little blurb on the side of this blog I'm reading Bill Clinton's book. Mind you if I'm being honest I'm trying to read it and frankly not too successfully. No I didn't buy it because I wanted to read the bits about Monica Lewinsky thank you very much. I think that Bill Clinton is one of the greatest President's the US has ever seen that's why I wanted to read it. So anyone that's heard Clinton knows that he's a pretty good speaker even when he hasn't had a speech written for him so I figured that meant he would be an interesting read......&lt;strong&gt;NOT!!!!&lt;/strong&gt; I've just reached the 100 page mark and I've had the book about a month. I know what you're saying but it's 1000 pages that's a long book! Ha! For someone that reads as much as I do that's nothing could've been done it in a week if it was any good. at this rate it's gonna take me til sometime next year. I bought it because I thought it would be a good summer read for me, little did I know it was going to by fall and winter read as well because I can't start a book and not finish it unless it's horrendously bad and by that I mean it has to make think that poking my eyes out with a dull fork would provide me with more entertainment. The last book I remember getting that was that bad was Stephen White's "Manner of Death" I was about an hour into an 8 hour train ride home from Kalamazoo, MI when I started the book and about 80 pages in I decided that I'd rather stare at the seat in front of me than continue reading that book. It was god awful! Anyways, I digress....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 20 pages in you can easily figure out how the thing got to be 1000 pages in the first place, no one edited it for content! He repeats himself continuously, a sentence would go something like this "the backyard of mama's house is where I liked to play a lot of with my friends, my friends and I really enjoyed playing in my backyard." ?!?!?!? This man was the leader of the free world for cryin out loud! I must say that I don't really blame this on him afterall this is the reason that god invented editors isn't it, I blame it on the book publishers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the only one that's noticed lately how crappy the editing of books has become? Granted I read a lot more than most but still I'm hardpressed to pick up a book these days that doesn't have blatant spelling or grammer errors in it (and you've seen how bad my grammer is here so they must be bad for me to pick it up!) And then of course they have the face to charge you $12 for a paperback book! Thank god for Costco! Yes I have heard of library but it's not the same they don't have anywhere near the selection that you get at Chapters and if you consider the penchant I have for dropping my books in the bathtub never on purpose it's probably a good thing that I buy my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-109020401242441954?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/109020401242441954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=109020401242441954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109020401242441954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/109020401242441954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/bill-clintons-my-life-more-like-my.html' title='Bill Clinton&apos;s &quot;My Life&quot;, more like My Torture!!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108952439337733150</id><published>2004-07-11T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T00:39:53.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I took this &lt;a href="http://hokev.brinkster.net/quiz/default.asp?quiz=Better+Personality&amp;page=1"&gt;quiz&lt;/a&gt; and I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be a joke but I'm not so sure after I got my results, cause well of course I'm an evil genius :) You decide after you take it. This is what mine said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are an SEDF--Sober Emotional Destructive Follower. This makes you an evil genius. You are extremely focused and difficult to distract from your tasks. With luck, you have learned to channel your energies into improving your intellect, rather than destroying the weak and unsuspecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friends may find you remote and a hard nut to crack. Few of your peers know you very well--even those you have known a long time--because you have expert control of the face you put forth to the world. You prefer to observe, calculate, discern and decide. Your decisions are final, and your desire to be right is impenetrable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not to be messed with. You may explode. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108952439337733150?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108952439337733150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108952439337733150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108952439337733150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108952439337733150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/so-i-took-this-quiz-and-im-pretty-sure.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108939353028791102</id><published>2004-07-09T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T13:24:40.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm hoping after the news I've had this week that the summer is only going to go up from here. On Wed. night I received an email from a an old friend from high school that admittedly I don't keep in that great touch with (even though we were like best friends, long story.) The title of this email was "Some Sad News..." which sent many things going through my head, chief among them was that something had happened to her baby that was born 3 mths premature or that something had happened to her mother who had been in remission for breast cancer. Never did I expect what I found, that one of our friends husbands had committed suicide! I was speechless to say the least because if there was someone I'd pick to do that I don't think it would've been him. That would make the second person this year that I know that's done that. I'm really hoping what they say&amp;nbsp;about things happening in three's is a load of crap because this really isn't funny. To make matters worse this has left our friend with nothing as she'd recently quit her job to start her own business and because he died in the manner that he did she's left with no insurance money either. Thankfully they had no children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things that I learned this week: &lt;br /&gt;- the aforementioned friend's mother's breast cancer is back &lt;br /&gt;- my other friends step-father has cancer &lt;br /&gt;- a good friend of the family's got a stomach tumor the size of a football &lt;br /&gt;- thankfully my friends child is showing no ill effects from being born 3 mths early &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108939353028791102?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108939353028791102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108939353028791102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108939353028791102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108939353028791102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/07/so-im-hoping-after-news-ive-had-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108726951889174692</id><published>2004-06-14T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T11:44:13.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whatever process they use to sew those extra buttons on your clothes, (you know the in case of emergency cut thread ones that they put on the tails of shirts and on the pockets inside your pants,) why can't the sew all your other buttons on that way? It seems to me that those buttons no matter what you do will stay on forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108726951889174692?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108726951889174692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108726951889174692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108726951889174692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108726951889174692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/06/whatever-process-they-use-to-sew-those.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108708366841139144</id><published>2004-06-12T18:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-12T19:26:07.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the world coming to....</title><content type='html'>So I make it somewhat of a habit to not only look at cnn.com on a daily basis but to check out their offbeat news section because invariably there's a piece there that makes me laugh if for no other reason than someone (an american usually) did something really stupid (like the guy that strapped all those ballons to his lawnchair trying to get it float that sadly they're not making a &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/lions_gate/danny_deckchair/"&gt;movie&lt;/a&gt; out of.) But what I read today is just plain stupid, not even funny stupid and a testament to the knee jerk kind of society that we've become. Remember in school if a food fight broke out it was handled by the school? Yeah not anymore apparently if &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/Northeast/06/12/food.fight/index.html"&gt;CNN&lt;/a&gt; is be believed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure who's to blame here. Is it that the teachers have had their hands tied by gov't policy that no longer allows them to handle the children in such a way that would've stopped this or for that matter are they just so afraid that if they did anything to stop it some kids litigious parents would sue them for touching a hair on little johnny's head and for having the gaul to tell little johnny no? Is it that the cops in this town have so little to do that they have time to respond to a food fight? Either way I'm glad to see that they think it's a good use of the courts time to be prosecuting kids that start a food fight because you know that's more important than making sure that drunk drivers, rapists &amp; murderers either stay behind bars or are convicted of their crimes or making sure that innocent people aren't being sentenced for crimes they didn't commit. But I guess that makes too much sense. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108708366841139144?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108708366841139144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108708366841139144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108708366841139144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108708366841139144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/06/whats-world-coming-to.html' title='What&apos;s the world coming to....'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108691679056188742</id><published>2004-06-10T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-10T20:19:50.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So I just took this quiz...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/S/SuperCurlz/1059390205_erRangeres.jpg" border="0" alt="CWINDOWSDesktopPowerRangeres.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Power Rangers Movie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/SuperCurlz/quizzes/What%20movie%20Do%20you%20Belong%20in%3F(many%20different%20outcomes!)/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno how happy I am about that, those stupid things are pretty annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108691679056188742?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108691679056188742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108691679056188742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108691679056188742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108691679056188742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/06/so-i-just-took-this-quiz.html' title='So I just took this quiz...'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108560813924726345</id><published>2004-05-26T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-26T16:48:59.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Damn that Murphy and his laws!! Yesterday when I looked like crap and was in a foul mood bf was everywhere. Today of course when I thought I looked pretty good he was nowhere to be found. Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108560813924726345?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108560813924726345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108560813924726345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108560813924726345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108560813924726345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/damn-that-murphy-and-his-laws.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108554481416001460</id><published>2004-05-25T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T23:13:34.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I found out last week that my great aunt has cancer. Actually she's more than a great aunt she's more like another grandmother (as a matter of fact more so than my paternal grandmother is but that's something for another post,) which makes this all very unsettling. I was visiting with her on the weekend and found myself making all these bargains with something/someone to make this all turn out alright and thinking that if I just got angry enough that the cancer would figured it picked the wrong family to mess with and leave and not come back. Unfortunately I don't think that cancer can be intimidated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of getting angry and intimidating I think that's what scares me about this most of all, she's always been an outspoken fighter but now she has nothing to say. Seems she's already succumbed and the time to fight has not even started yet and that's what scares me most of all. I'm not scared that maybe the cancer is more places than they orginally thought because the person I know has the will and determination to put up a good fight and in all likelihood defeat it, what scares me is I don't know where that fighter is, seems they've run away right at the time that we need her most. I hope that she comes back when push comes to shove because from all of what I know of cancer is that attitude is everything and if you don't have the attitude that you can beat this then you probably won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what overcoming this is just putting off the inevitable but at least that means that the inevitable isn't the now. She's a pillar of this family and you know what happens to things when pillars start to fall, that's something I don't even want to contemplate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108554481416001460?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108554481416001460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108554481416001460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108554481416001460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108554481416001460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/so-i-found-out-last-week-that-my-great.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108554381945681600</id><published>2004-05-25T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T22:56:59.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are two things that I've been feeling a lot lately. One is that feeling of being in a room with a bunch of people yet still feeling entirely alone. The other is the feeling that I don't really belong anywhere anymore this last feeling is something that's fairly recent. I don't like either of them but don't really know what to do about them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108554381945681600?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108554381945681600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108554381945681600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108554381945681600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108554381945681600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/there-are-two-things-that-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108485046434656971</id><published>2004-05-17T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T23:14:32.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm thinking that maybe I should wear a skirt tomorrow if for no other reason than that the fact that I've shaved my legs won't go to waste. Sometimes it's a pain in the ass being a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108485046434656971?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108485046434656971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108485046434656971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108485046434656971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108485046434656971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/so-im-thinking-that-maybe-i-should.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108485035366705200</id><published>2004-05-17T22:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T23:12:57.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Compliment? I think not!</title><content type='html'>I'm 28 years old and I got carded. I'm not quite sure if I'm old enough yet where that's a compliment. I went to a concert Thurs. night and it was at a casino and when I walked past the security guy into the concert he stops me and is like do you have a pass of course I'm thinking did I hear him right because afterall I am getting old. So he asks me again and I look at him as if he's got 2 horns growin out of his head and I start reaching for my tickets thinking that that's what he wants until my friends like he wants your ID and of course at that point I feel like a complete nimrod because having just come from spending an hour and a half in the casino and well frankly having been old enough to be there for almost 10 years I didn't think anything of it. I wonder at what age does it become a compliment that you get carded?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108485035366705200?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108485035366705200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108485035366705200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108485035366705200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108485035366705200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/compliment-i-think-not.html' title='Compliment? I think not!'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108484890901642864</id><published>2004-05-17T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T21:56:12.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know I was just thinking as I was making my lunch for work tomorrow and having a horrible time deciding what to wear that having a guy you like work where you work is a royal pain in the ass. I'm having such a hard time deciding what to wear for 2 reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have no clean clothes (where's this laundry fairy I keep hearing about??)&lt;br /&gt;2. Must dress nicely and flatteringly in the event that tomorrow is finally the day he decides to notice that I exist and I don't want him to realize I exist when I don't look my best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally a situation like this would've called for me to go out and buy something new to wear to work because well let's be honest that is a lot easier than just doing laundry and well what better feeling is there then wearing new clothes?? But alas I don't have the money for a new outfit, well ok Mr. &amp; Mrs. Mastercard and Mr. Visa would tell you that I have the money but that's before Mr. Bank Manager has his say in the matter. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108484890901642864?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108484890901642864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108484890901642864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108484890901642864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108484890901642864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/you-know-i-was-just-thinking-as-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108484348525983252</id><published>2004-05-17T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T20:24:45.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I just finished some of the new limited edition sour cream &amp; chedder pringles, funny they didn't taste any different than the plain cheese ones. Stupid, cleaver marketing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108484348525983252?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108484348525983252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108484348525983252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108484348525983252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108484348525983252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/so-i-just-finished-some-of-new-limited.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108467462840452935</id><published>2004-05-15T21:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T21:32:04.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I guess I should talk a little bit about why I decided to create a blog in the first place. A girl I used to work with started one while we were working together and I found it highly entertaining and then one of her links on her blog was to a blog called &lt;a href="http://tjsplace.blogspot.com/"&gt;Life at TJ's Place,&lt;/a&gt; suffice to say I'm now hooked on the tales of some guy that works at a strip joint, err I'm sorry a gentleman's club whom it would appear would like to be a writer. You should check it out especially the entries about the kids in the car at the grocery store and the one about his neighbour's dog Patches. I found quite entertaining but perhaps I'm easily amused.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's for those reasons that I decided to write one myself. Mind you there doesn't really sound like there's a reason in there at all unless I'm implying somehow that I might be as entertaining though I doubt that. Time shall tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108467462840452935?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108467462840452935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108467462840452935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108467462840452935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108467462840452935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/so-i-guess-i-should-talk-little-bit.html' title=''/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108467402873526124</id><published>2004-05-15T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T21:20:28.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>La sigh</title><content type='html'>Ok well I'm done fighting with the editing of this silly blog for this evening. As I first suspected I know nothing about code, well at least nothing about this silly code that this blogger thing uses, whatever it is it defies logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's important to point out at the beginning that although you will not likely find any spelling mistakes in this blog you will undoubtedly find bad grammer, especially the over use of the comma, I like the comma, it's my friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108467402873526124?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108467402873526124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108467402873526124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108467402873526124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108467402873526124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/la-sigh.html' title='La sigh'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7002569.post-108466749768238222</id><published>2004-05-15T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T21:22:06.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So I've done it</title><content type='html'>I've created a blog. I really didn't think that I'd ever make one of these if for no other reason then these random meanderings will provide proof to what others have always suspected....I am in reality a nutbar. I don't know how pretty this will end up looking, I thought I knew code but once I've looked at theirs I don't know how successful I'll be a dressin the place up. I'll have to play around with it a bit and see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7002569-108466749768238222?l=shoppingisasport.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/feeds/108466749768238222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7002569&amp;postID=108466749768238222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108466749768238222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7002569/posts/default/108466749768238222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoppingisasport.blogspot.com/2004/05/so-ive-done-it.html' title='So I&apos;ve done it'/><author><name>Mercedes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104168306888760041</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://www3.sympatico.ca/tupson/bitchsihate.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
