<?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-6935926</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:34:30.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Extension Of Mind</title><subtitle type='html'>I need somewhere to put my thoughts about life.  I tend to over analyze everything and most of the time nobody wan't to hear about it becuase honestly it is generally really boring.  Not really boring like the history channel but really boring like PBS documentaries.  But it's interesting to me and that's enough.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-801854376040931746</id><published>2007-06-23T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T10:32:52.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She seems so happy</title><content type='html'>And it tears me up inside.  All I have ever had to do to get to Lisa to pretend to love me, is give her what she wants.  If I say no she pouts and pesters and then gets mad and accuses me of not loving life and have any passion.  She finally admitted last night that she does not enjoy our sex life.  Our whole marriage she has praised us for how we make each other feel in bed, but it was all a lie too.  She doesn't know my buttons, she can't drive me crazy.  But I've told her what it is that I need and what turns me on, but she can't do that either.  What more could I do?  I wish she could have been honest with me years ago and she could have saved herself years of pain and saved me from utter destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I tell her what she wants to hear and give in to her wishes then she is immediately happy.  Not remembering the pain she caused.  It's my incompatability that drove her to depresssion.  My lacking that caused her to cheat and lie.  There is no responsibility being taken by her.  Maybe there is, but when she tells me that all she does is hurt me and that she can't help it and that if she was me she would leave and that she does not deserve a second chance, it makes me feel like she has accepted her faults and her weekness.  Like she has given in to being mediocre and is comfortable with the knowledge that her selfishness will continue to hurt the people she loves, because that is who she is and she does not want to be something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am giving my self away so I can keep my family together.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it is worth it. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it is the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;What I do know is that I feel taken advantage of.  We both have responsabilities.  We agreed to have a marriage and raise kids.  Her part is primarily the household and mine is make sure that she has the tools and resources to be successful in that.  But that is not enough for her.  She can get babysitters anytime she wants and go to Art's festivals and lunch with the girls, and book group at night.  And then I am a prick if I feel like I am holding up my end of the bargain and she is getting away with worse than murder.  At least if someones kills you, your dead.  With her it's like a work of priceless art, how she inadvertantly and slowly works the dagger in such away that you wish you were in the Hanoi Hilton, because there would be less pain and it would be closer to ending.  I work hard but she gets most of  the benefit.  She says she does not have freedom but she really doesn't know what freedom is.  She says she wants to make her own decisions, but when faced with them she can't bring herself to actually make a decision, because she is so worried about....   Who fucking knows.  Unfortunately, your past decisions shape your level of freedom in the future and even if we do get divorced she still won't have the freedom that she wants, because she still has two little boys that are effected by her.  And she will start to resent them, just like she did my 11 year old, when they get in the way of what she wants or feels.  Yet, she is still willing to tear down and throw away everything we built together in the hopes that she can find something she doesn't know she is looking for and has been right there for the taking her whole life.  She just can't reach out and accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom comes from within and Lisa is chained by herself that she can't help but make poor decisions and hurt people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get divorced.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to get divorced.  When I think of what it will do to my kids it rips my heart out.  And when Lisa says that they will be fine and she is a good mother and she will make sure they are ok it feels like my insides are being pitchforked, and tied to a truck and drug drown a rocky dirt road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to care about her anymore.  I don't want to care about anything anymore.  All I have ever gotten for my caring and my deeds is shit on by the people closest to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-801854376040931746?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/801854376040931746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/801854376040931746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2007/06/she-seems-so-happy.html' title='She seems so happy'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-4145510055635791095</id><published>2007-06-21T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T17:35:28.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heads she wins, Tails I lose</title><content type='html'>I guess it's heads..... wait maybe tails.  Who knows what to make of it, and it's less than relevant today than yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how I feel right now.  It really doesn't matter how the coin falls it's all for naught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you a story of me and my life.  How I got here and how I'll never get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in a house where peace and harmony were not something that you could even hope for.  My parents split up when I was 8.  I remember sitting in the living room when they broke the news.  Interestingly enough I was quite happy with the decision at the time.  My house was one of pain and mockery when both my parents were home.  I learned at an early age that if only one was around, then everything was ok.  Once they were both there, the fireworks flew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grew up very poor.  Hand me down shoes, and clothes, government cheese,  LDS Bishops storehouse food and coats.  I made some decisions about my life then.  I had very mild dreams.  I wanted to own a house, own a car, and raise a family better than my parents had raised me.  I don't know why I needed to be better but it gave me purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I acheived the modest goals at an earlier age than expected.  I was 23 when I bought my first house.  I had a couple of cars, a wife, and twins on the way.  I had made it I thought....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see that what I built is coming crashing down around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I focus on my job too much.&lt;br /&gt;I focus on the future too much.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to make bad decisions.&lt;br /&gt;I really just want to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where I went wrong.  When I broke up with my 11 year olds mom I thought it really couldnt get worse.  She got pregnant when I was 19.   By 21 I had bought her 2 rings both having been ripped off her fingers when she admitted to cheating on me.  I forgave her the first time and moved on.  I tried to forgive the second time and wanted to make sure I was there for my son.  She would not let me do that.  After the third time I had to go.  My family that I was trying to build had been stolen from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really didn't think it could get worse than that.  But now I am in the same situation.  I don't know what it is about my personality or my emotions or just me.  But women just can't stay faithful to me.  This time the scar was reopened and it's not healing.  I feel my myself seeping out of the wound that festers and won't go away.  I live in pain everyday and mask it by laughing and ignoring and doing the mundane things of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family has been stolen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a perfect guy but I really cared.  I gave everything I had to give to this family and this life and this future and after 9 years i'm right back where I started.  I must be retarded or ignorant.  I lived to have a family and i don't have it in me to build a third one and risk losing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the coin drops I'll hear it loud and clear like the liberty bell when it split. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cacophony will get washed away by the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to believe in karma but I really can't figure out how I or my kids deserved this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-4145510055635791095?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/4145510055635791095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/4145510055635791095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2007/06/heads-she-wins-tails-i-lose.html' title='Heads she wins, Tails I lose'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-117134363047683927</id><published>2007-02-12T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T21:13:50.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Liars and Emptiness</title><content type='html'>I really don't know why I am writing again here.  I don't understand how people can just flat out lie to you.  It is really the most interesting thing.  When someone fully lies to you, right to your face and the whole time you know they are totally full of shit.  It is not worth it to call them on it and damage the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am just smug and have thoughts about how I am more clever than them because I already know they are being dishonest.  At the end of the day it still hurts.  The thing that really sucks is that it hurts the liar more than the liee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel empty today and have for several weeks.  I don't know what to do, or how to feel, or what's important anymore.  I hate being lost.  I wish I lived in the future when colonization of other planets is a possibility.  I would be the first to go and start a new life with new people and try and build something really great,  I miss the teamwork and feeling of two people striving for the same goal and making good progress.  I really do miss it and don't know how to get it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know no one is reading this but it does not matter anymore.  James "Pappa" Het said it best "Nothing Else Matters".  Of course nothing is subjective and changes with perspective.  I would like to take a poll and have 100 people  define nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-117134363047683927?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/117134363047683927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/117134363047683927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2007/02/liars-and-emptiness.html' title='Liars and Emptiness'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-116184687929284676</id><published>2006-10-26T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T00:14:39.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I am changing the focus of my almost non-existent, rareley, scratch that - never -- updated blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I love about my wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I love her smile when she is truly happy and excited about something.&lt;br /&gt;2.  I love to snuggle up close (read as spoon).  It makes me feel warm and safe.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I love to watch her make cookies and share them with them kids.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I love looking at her while she is deep in thought and admire what a wonderful person she turly is.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I love to listen to her voice as random thoughts spill out of her head.  It is a soothing musical symphony for my otherswise cluttered brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a quite different emotion than first fantasized about when a young teenager.  I truly feel lucky to be able to experience true love on a daily basis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-116184687929284676?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/116184687929284676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/116184687929284676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2006/10/so-i-am-changing-focus-of-my-almost.html' title=''/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108855010759306355</id><published>2004-06-29T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-29T16:09:38.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who would you rather have running your country?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://pics.cdadirect.com/bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.cdadirect.com/kerry.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously which one would you choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I would take Bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will take all kinds of Bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush is good. (But shaved is better)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108855010759306355?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108855010759306355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108855010759306355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/who-would-you-rather-have-running-your.html' title='Who would you rather have running your country?'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108846225107241434</id><published>2004-06-28T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T15:37:31.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I got some sun</title><content type='html'>We went to the water park on Saturday and it was much better than the first foray we took a couple of weeks ago.  The twins finally got used to the idea of floating around the lazy river and actually getting water on their heads.  It was fun.  Eventually we will get them going down the freefall.  I think the wife and I will go jus the two of us this week though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I golfed well over the weekend.  My driver still can't remember why it is in my bag much less why I pull it out.  Speaking of pulling out that is not a very manly thing to do.  Look what happened in Vietnam we pulled out and well you know what happened we kind of took it in the ass.  No,  You can't pull out.  I say you have a stay in there and keep and fucking.  Fuck em till their dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops back to golf.  Played 9 holes at the Old Course.  Not St. Andrews.  (I  Wish).  I hit two double bogeys 4 pars and a couple of bogeys.  All in all I was hitting the iron well and putting fiendishly.  But my driver keeps swearing at me whenever I force it to beat a ball into the bushes on the left side of the fairway.  I must have mistreated it in a past life or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife and I went a great party at 2.5 million dollar house over the weekend.  Drank just about the right amount but did not get home until 4:30 in the morning.  I have never seen so many sets of fake breasts in my life.  Wow!!!  It is weird how we try to live like we are 18 and have all the energy and time in the world.  Only two be brought crashing down the next morning with weight of the world a hangover you would only wish on hitler or your mother-in-law depending on which one you hate worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it was fun.  The company that was here for the wedding is almost ready to leave and our trip to Maine is exactly one month away.  I can't wait to go.  My brother Denton is coming to town with his family this weekend.  So you know what that means.  Yup,  Strippers and Oil wrestling at the local pub as well as a lot of golf.  J/K,  wait, no I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the wife will go with us.  In case your reading this before I get home I fixed your laptop.  So you are no longer computerless.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day has passed and another night now comes.&lt;br /&gt;The open range calls under the fading sun.&lt;br /&gt;And when the winds whispers and drops a sweet breath.&lt;br /&gt;A bird will land softly home in its nest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any idea where that came from but there it was so here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh yea before I forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck Off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6935926-108846225107241434?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108846225107241434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108846225107241434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/so-i-got-some-sun.html' title='So I got some sun'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108819449465654181</id><published>2004-06-25T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T13:14:54.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am me and you are you</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I am driving in my car and I get this overawed feeling that I am me and I am here and I am doing what I am doing.  I know it sounds corny but the weird part about it is that you are all you at the same time.  Everybody else is who they are too.  We are all the same yet so different.  We all experience life the same way in a general manner.  Love, Hate, Work, Recreation etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trips me out because I am not a religious person I am convinced that god is a figment of our human emotion and need to not be alone in the universe and have the security of thinking and or knowing that if we screw it up our parents will show up and make it all better.  I don't beleive this to be true.  Because I beleive this way I sometimes wonder where the world is going and how it is going to get there.  There are billions of people in the world but at the end of the day we all worry about the same basic needs.  I often wonder why is the guy next to me driving north right now.  What motivates him to get up in the morning and take a shower and get in his car.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder what motivates me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly we are all alone in our own bodies and minds.  We are also all externally connected and dependant on each other for survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we had an option to not be human and have to deal with all the bullshit.  But we don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we just accept what is and enjoy the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost of muse for today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off&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/6935926-108819449465654181?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108819449465654181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108819449465654181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-am-me-and-you-are-you.html' title='I am me and you are you'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108802006610905570</id><published>2004-06-23T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T16:51:27.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day another post </title><content type='html'>I think I need to change my template this one is getting kind of boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry this one is kind of bitchy!  I'm just venting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I used to have these garage shelves that the previous owner put in.  Well I would not really call them shelves it was more like a jigsaw puzzle of wood put up by the winner of the Bob Vila Special Olympics building contest.  I finally tore them down and put in some nice gorilla racks and some metal rolling racks around all the edges.  So for the first time my garage is organized and you can fit two cars in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Wife's Mom and Sister came into town for a wedding this week so that was my motivation for cleaning the garage.  We also had alot of cleaning to do around the house because honestly i can't afford a cleaning service to stay on top of it.  So I ended up cleaning the playroom which was a total sty, the boys room which was not so bad.  Then I vacuumed the entire house and swept and mopped.  Of course I finally fixed the clogged toilet downstairs.  I also cleaned my car because that was the vehicle we had to take to pick up the in-laws in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all I spent like 10 hours of the last two days working my ass off around the house in addition to going to work and installing an additional Netapp Filer shelf for a side job and passing an IBM Enterprise storage Exam.  All this so that her family would have a semi-clean environment for the 1.5 days they will be spending at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up my Mom had boxes of stuff you would not beleive stored in the garage (Never once did we actually park in there.  God forbid we actually used it for its intended purpose) All of them just sitting in the garage.  None of them serving any purpose.  We're talking boxes of newspapers left over from the late 60's.  But that is not the half of it.  She likes to think of herself as a food storage person.  She always has shelves of bottled fruits and vegetables.  One time we were helping her move and we noticed that the dates on some bottles of carrots.  (Who bottles carrots.  Seriously)  These bottles were dates well before I was born.  They were dated 6/72 or 12/68.  She also has about 30 5 gallon drums of wheat from the late 70's as well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is all very interesting and stuff but the coolest thing of all is that I have never eaten bottled carrots or ground wheat into flour in my entire life.  Neither I nor any of my 5 brothers can remember her actually preparing or eating any of the "food supplies" either.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course her stance on the issue is that when Jesus comes back a bushel of wheat will be worth a bushel of gold.  Ok Mom, Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strict policy.  If I come across something that I have not used for 6-12 months it's gone.  I would urge you all to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as always&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108802006610905570?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108802006610905570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108802006610905570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/another-day-another-post.html' title='Another day another post '/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108784591914084411</id><published>2004-06-21T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-21T12:25:19.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep your mouth shut</title><content type='html'>Seriously,  Why do people talk about stuff they should not.  Is it a flaw in our DNA?  I am not saying I am not guilty of spilling the beans when I should have known better.  What I am saying is if your going to spill the "proverbial" beans at least be accurate about it.  I know everybody has their own view of the world through whatever shade of glasses that works for them.  But when you start making up stories and spinning the truth to make your self look better it really just makes you look like a total ass and more importantly decreases your positive Karma.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let talk about Dan Hicks and Johnny Miller.  If you don't know who they are then you did not watch last weekends 104th U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills.  I enjoy watching golf and the tournament was exciting.  The course was in really tough shape over the weekend and there were some stellar save shots for par.  But what really pissed me off is that they had two monkeys commentating.  It was not that these guys were boring, they were just total and complete imbeciles.  They would contradict themselves all the time and make stupid comments about whether it was a good lie or not.  Sometimes they would totally misinform the viewer about one thing or another and then not correct it or actually correct with wrong information.  Seriously these guys should be fired.  Where is Feherty and  Kostis.  Oh yea over at the network that actually knows how to broadcast golf.  And another thing NBC had Bob Costas MCing Saturday and Sunday.  Now don't get me wrong Bob is the man when it comes to sports broadcasting and commenting especially for Basketball, and Baseball.  He's even great with football on HBO's Inside the NFL.  But he knows and probably cares even less about Golf, and that really came through in the the broadcast the weekend.  NBC did a horrible job and should be banned by the USGA from ever broadcasting another PGA event and definitely not another major.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fathers Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and I had a wonderful fathers day weekend.  I got some really great gifts.  Some of which are appropriate to talk about here and others are not.  I can talk about my new MaxFli Golf bag.  It is awesome.  It has a really sturdy stand and plenty of pockets but only weighs 4.5 pounds.  My other bag was falling apart.  Now I can start walking the course instead of riding which will save me tons of cash.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a sexy photoshoot over the weekend with some of my new presents.  Which weren't really for me but I am going to enjoy them immensely.  Anyway in our brilliance we decided to use some self tanner to make the pics come our better.  Just a pointer here if you ever plan on doing this "wear gloves".  My hands look like they have leprosy and are about the fall off.  I had to tell everyone at the party we went too over the weekend that I stained my deck and spilled some all over.  But everyone knows it's self tanner and I totally got bullshit called on me.  But the tanner stuff works great and the wife is now officially smoking hot and I have the pictures to prove it.  We spent a considerable amount of time in the sack.  This was thanks to my Mom for taking the kids overnight Saturday night from 5:00pm until 11:00 am Sunday morning.  Seriously there is nothing better than being together with someone for over six years and still being so in love that all either of you wants to do is go for a romp in the haystack at every possible opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost a bet over the weekend I bet my brother dinner at Outback that I could beat him by 7 strokes over 9 holes.  I know this is a bad bet but if I don't give him a chance he won't bet at all.  I only missed the bet by one stroke.  I shot 2 doubles in a row and missed a couple of short puts.  I am a horrible gambler I almost never lose at golf on the outright score but I always bet myself into a corner and lose money.  I need some gambling lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I can't end this properly so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108784591914084411?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108784591914084411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108784591914084411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/keep-your-mouth-shut.html' title='Keep your mouth shut'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108750161033009923</id><published>2004-06-17T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-17T12:52:27.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a cleaning women oh wait sorry "person"</title><content type='html'>Seriously my office is a mess.  There are CD's and papers and all manner of computer and networking components.  Stacks of free Network World magazines.  You sys admins know what I am talking about.  They send it to you even if you didn't renew.  Then they send you messages and faxes and E-mails and threatening letters informing you that they will forward the matter to their attorney if you don't fill out their online form to renew your free subscription that you don't really remember signing up for in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't have cleaning people at the office so every two weeks or so I have to clean the bathrooms on my floor.  How fucking stupid is that.  Pay somebody the $300 or $400 a month to empty the trash and clean the shit.  My trash can is always overflowing because I am the laziest IT person ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well its wifies birthday this weekend and no baby sitters.  Nope that's right any other weekend will be fine they say except this one.  So now I have to call my Mom and see if I can be nice enough and beg and plead on my knees for her to come and watch my kids.  I prefer her to watch them because she is free.  Well not exactly free because I may have to promise to go to church for at least 2 Sundays to get her to come spend time with her own grandkids.  Which she says she loves and misses but we all know that's bullshit because it's like pulling teeth to get her to play with them at all.  But hey if I raised 6 boys I would be like &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To hell with the grand kids I did my time.  They are only cute for the first 6 months or so anyway."  J/K&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to the bar last night because Wife's friend called and wanted to sing Karaoke.  I totally did not want to go having just finished 18 holes of magnificent golf but she convinced me because we were babysitterless over the weekend.  So we haul our asses to the bar on a Wednesday mind you at 10 damn 30 at night.  Jesus seriously I was so not excited to be going.  My friend and I sang a little Poison.  Ya Baby Ya.  Every Rose has its Thorn.  This is the best song to sing Karaoke to because it sounds like total shit no matter what.  Which is the point of drunk people singing in local bars anyway.  Right!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I changed a  couple of words in the chorus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original version&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every Cowboy sings a sad sad song"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My version&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every Cowboy fucks his mom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No body even noticed, however I was busting up laughing.  Not because that's funny but because "I" think it's funny and I am 12, or so I am told repeatedly by the wife.  Guess you have to know me.  Not in the biblical sense but in the yea I know Cameron, he is a total ass, sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never know how to end these things so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108750161033009923?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108750161033009923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108750161033009923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-need-cleaning-women-oh-wait-sorry.html' title='I need a cleaning women oh wait sorry &quot;person&quot;'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108742679933170199</id><published>2004-06-16T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-16T15:59:59.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I sit</title><content type='html'>At my desk again.  Today was an interesting day.  I am so bad at this. As soon as I click on create my mind goes dead.  My life must be really boring.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about Last Comic Standing.  I love stand-up.  I wish there were more clubs here to go see new local talent.  What's weird is that Rich Vos is on the panel this year and he was a contestant who did not win last season.  But the guy that won last season Dat Phan is no where to be found.  Also there is a contestant on tonight that is already a regular on Last Call with Colin Quinn.  He has already made a name for himself.  What is he doing on LCS as a contestant.  Weird.  Well we will see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Father's day is coming up and my wife has promised me some pretty sweet surprises.  I can't wait.  She is so hot and fun and cute and hot and sweet and nice and loving and lovable and hot.  Oh and did I mention hot.  I think about her constantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys want to hear more about my golf game.  No.  Awww come on you know you give a flying rat shit how well I score every week.  Well let me tell you the driver is back baby.  I have been struggling to hit the fairway for like 6 weeks.  I did not know what happened.  And then on Monday I was hitting an uphill 9 iron and had to choke up on my club.  As I did my practice swing I felt everything lock into place and realized that what I had been doing with my driver was holding it too close the end of the club.  So I tried choking up a bit like not even a half of an inch on the driver and holy shit batman did the ball go flying down the middle.  We are talking I am back baby 235 to 270 again in the fairway.  Needless to say I shot 41 for the 9 holes we played with no birdies mind you and a one double.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wheww are you still reading after that really exciting shit.  I did not think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you still here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on get a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tee time at 5:34 baby.  I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108742679933170199?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108742679933170199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108742679933170199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/here-i-sit.html' title='Here I sit'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108699116132194092</id><published>2004-06-11T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-11T14:59:21.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know anything</title><content type='html'>I really don't.  I wish I did but hey I guess I can deal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like the waterpark again today just me and the DilMonster.  It is kind of cold but that will just make my nipples stick out extra far (Sweet).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do any of you have PlayStation 2?  If so have you played SSX Tricky.  This game is very addicting.  I really used to enjoy snowboarding when I was in High School.  But it is too much like work so Golf is a little better for me now.  Anyway I have been playing with Dilian and the little bastard can totally beat me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind is blank right now.  I wish I could write about something deep and funny but those don't really go together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chronicles of Riddick comes out today.  I can't wait.  I love Vin Diesel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't think I am gay or nothing but he's got a nice ass (ha ha quote from Orgazmo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are a funny lot.  We misintrepret and let our own fears cloud our judgement holding us back from reaching our full potential.  Alot of us go through life with blinders on not seeing other people for who they are.  This can be good or bad because you probably don't really want to know who Marilyn Manson or Al Capone really are/were.  But when it comes between people you know it causes much heartache and sorrow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no wonder the Jealousy is one of the seven deadly sins.  Oh wait is it.  Well if it is not there should be eight.  People that can control their Jealousy are my hero's it is very hard to do and sometimes is not a logical thing that can be handled.  Trust me practice makes perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out.&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/6935926-108699116132194092?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108699116132194092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108699116132194092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-dont-know-anything.html' title='I don&apos;t know anything'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108690583448906140</id><published>2004-06-10T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-10T15:17:14.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally shot 41 again.</title><content type='html'>So I hauled my ass out of bed yesterday at like 0'Dark Hundred to drive 1.5 hours away to play golf.  Why did I do this I am still not really sure.   I went with 2 guys I had never met before and  guy I did not know really well.  It was worth it however when I utterly destroyed theirs asses with a +5 41.  I have not played that well for at least 6 weeks and it felt good to finally feel like my swing was where it was supposed to be.  I still could not get off the tee box but my recovery shots and putting were steller (ouch my arm now hurts from patting myself on the back).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jon is coming back fron Ohio tommorrow so hopefully I can play well this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108690583448906140?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108690583448906140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108690583448906140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/i-finally-shot-41-again.html' title='I finally shot 41 again.'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108671571863621570</id><published>2004-06-08T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T10:28:38.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously how about writing something</title><content type='html'>This is for all my non readers out there.  Hi how are you.  Why do I feel like i am talking to myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waterparks are awesome.  It finally reached 90 this week and we are going to the waterpark everyday with our $30 season passes.  It is so nice to cool down and play and splash.  My favorite thing is picking up my 8 year old and throwing him high in the air to splash in the wave pool.  He is such a waterbug.  He can't get enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this year I will get up the guts again to go on the freefall slides.  I used to do it when I was a kid no problem.  But this year I went up there took one look at how steep it was and said "Fuck That".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At which time I carefully slunk back down to the "Your a huge Pussy slide".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway we are going again today after work with Dilian and Maxiver.  Ok so they are twins Max and Oliver.  But Maxiver just saves time when calling them both and they get it so it rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW Dilians nicknames are as follows Dilrod  and Dilmonster.  He is not really fond of the first but at least allows the second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa finally stood in line last night to get her picture taken for her pass so now she can go on the slides and stuff to.  I hope the monsters are good and that they have fun or alas the pass will be in vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day.&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/6935926-108671571863621570?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108671571863621570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108671571863621570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/06/seriously-how-about-writing-something.html' title='Seriously how about writing something'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108576328992737997</id><published>2004-05-28T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-28T09:54:49.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex on Credit</title><content type='html'>Everybody pays for sex one way or another.  Whether its dinner and a movie.  I night at the bar. A trip to Barbados or a nice planter for the front portch.  Getting someone into bed especially on a regular basis requires one thing.  Cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we need is Sex on Credit.  This would be where you could doink someone on credit.  So instead of dinner and a movie tonight before the sex how about dinner and 2 movies next week.  The interest would continue to accrue compounding monthly.  Now this may not seem like such a great deal when we are talking about dinner and a movie.  But the trip to Barbados could increase in value quite rapidly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have everything else on Credit why not sex. After all it is just sex. It is just like getting a sofa from the Furniture King Warehouse down the street anyway.  Right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will start a club card where my company will come over and do your dishes and clean your bathrooms to give your wife a break and make you look like a hero.  This would end up in you getting great hot sex from the mate and we can just charge your Visa.  This sounds a little simpler.  We could even snuggle with her after the deed for a small fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok Ha Ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is that whenever you do something nice for your mate whether it is out of pure love or not.  You are racking up "I want to fuck you points."  (Also known as sex credits.)  When you are an ass to your mate your sex credits start drying up along with her pussy.  It kind of sucks that this is how it works.  It may just be the greatest cosmic joke of all time but it's all worth it when you have a warm body laying next you and know that they feel the same way you do physically and emotionally. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108576328992737997?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108576328992737997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108576328992737997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/sex-on-credit.html' title='Sex on Credit'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108551965720464178</id><published>2004-05-25T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T14:14:17.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Been a While</title><content type='html'>I am still getting into the swing of things here in the bloggerland.  I wish I had something witty to say or even something remotely interesting.  I am drawing a blank.  But hey 24 season finale tonight.  I love this show.  First of all Keifer Sutherland is one of my favorite actors (even if he is the son of Donald we won't hold that against him).  Ever since Young Guns and Flatliners I can't get enough of him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bought a house about four years ago.  I dutifully put in a lawn and some nice curbing around the house.  But did I put any plants or shrubs or flowers in. No I did not. I did however pull the weeds about once a year.  So here I am with a really nice lawn accentuated by a beautiful array of weeds.  Anyway I finally pulled the weeds for the last time and put down some bark.  Hallelujah now I am only like the 9th biggest loser in my neighborhood.  So the greatest part about this that when I open my front door in the morning the bark makes it smell like a forest.  MMM. MMM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so more about my yard.  Never buy a house on a corner across from a field.  I tell you why.  Because if the utility companies make it I have it my yard.  Here is the list&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop Sign (please stop)&lt;br /&gt;Street Sign. (so you know where you are)&lt;br /&gt;Fire Hydrant (so small four legged creatures have a place to piss)&lt;br /&gt;Big huge city lighpost. (so I can't sleep at night with the light)&lt;br /&gt;Phone box (I don't even have a land line for gods sake)&lt;br /&gt;A ginormous Electric box (Ok I do have electricity)&lt;br /&gt;And lets not forget the cable box either. (Nope satellite)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if that is not enough my homeowner "ass" requires me to have a smaller light post next to my driveway.  So you can imagine mowing is a total pain in the "ass" not to mention the edging.  I have more concrete edges than I care to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW if it is a pain in the "ass" you are probably doing it wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough Drivel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108551965720464178?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108551965720464178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108551965720464178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/been-while.html' title='Been a While'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108455740735160814</id><published>2004-05-14T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-14T10:58:34.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics and Stuff</title><content type='html'>Lyrics to a song a love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Never I ask of you&lt;br /&gt;But never I gave&lt;br /&gt;But you gave me your emptiness&lt;br /&gt;I now take to my grave&lt;br /&gt;Never I ask of you&lt;br /&gt;But never I gave&lt;br /&gt;But you gave me your emptiness&lt;br /&gt;I now take to my grave&lt;br /&gt;So let this heart be still&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can guess what song I will give you a prize.  However since I don't have any readers or visitors to my site I doubt I'll have to pay up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Friday and I might just go golfing later this afternoon.  I love golfing.  It is a test of myself over myself and it's a different test every time.  Calm, Cool, Concentration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh who am I kidding I just like it because I get to hold my shaft tightly and put my balls in a small hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am working.  Sometimes my job gets a bit monotonous.  Backups, Restores, Passwords that don't work because somebody forgot what a caps lock key does.  I have some of the best coffee holder computer stories in the world.  Most from my Mom who uses a computer,  well kind of uses a computer.  Anyway you should all check out 3 Dead Trolls in a Baggie.  They are a Canadian Comedy group who used to post all there stuff and MP3.com but now there sight is gone.  So where can I go for a good taste of free amateur music and comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try and find a link or maybe I could post it is an audio clip if I can find it again.  They do this bit called Internet Help Desk that will have you die laughing.  I will definitely find it and post it so you can have mirth today as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later&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/6935926-108455740735160814?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108455740735160814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108455740735160814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/lyrics-and-stuff.html' title='Lyrics and Stuff'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108448868218022421</id><published>2004-05-13T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-14T10:35:09.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you ever get that feeling</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I get this sixth sense of a feeling.  Something like a cross between being really hungry and mildly scared at the same time.  It only happens about every 2 months or so.  Sometimes it lasts for Days and sometimes is last for a couple of hours and it is something I can't usually shake off.  It is not at all uncomfortable or strange but I have been able to identify this feeling and when it goes away.  Usually it is a signal to me that something is wrong.  When I find out what is wrong or what happened then the feeling immediately goes away.  I first noticed this when my sons Uncle Rob died from asphyxiation after passing out from an overdose of some drug or other.  For a few days I had this nawing feeling like things weren't right with the world.  I couldn't figure it out or shake the feeling.  Then I got a call from his Mom saying her brother had died and the feeling was instantly gone.  So since then whenever I get it I know to start looking and keep my eyes open for something.  I never know what but over the years this has become a very consistent part of my life.  Another time interestingly enough was September 11th.  For a couple of days before that everything was not right.  When I got up that morning and say the smoke on the TV the sensation was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe I'm psychic or maybe I schizzo but to everyone out there I would say "pay attention to your sixth sense, it means something for you and possible others".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108448868218022421?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108448868218022421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108448868218022421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/do-you-ever-get-that-feeling.html' title='Do you ever get that feeling'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108430692006998295</id><published>2004-05-11T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-13T15:38:47.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living with American Beauty</title><content type='html'>So I rewatched American Beauty the movie.  Every time I see it I get the most clear cut picture of life and how we live it.  We worry about about our jobs and our kids and our wives and pretty much anything that can get worried about gets worried about.  This movie brings to mind the saying of &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get busy living or Get busy dying".  This is why it is such a great movie because finally after however many years this guy starts getting busy living only to end up to actually dying which really sucks becuase I love Kevin Spacey.  I am a firm believer in living life for life not for somebody or something else but for yourself or better yet for the ones you love.  The deepest most content feeling for me is when my passion, want and/or need is genuinely centered around other people and how I can interact with them to make everyone's life more livable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many people take life so seriously and just cant relax, take a step back, survey the land and take the next step toward living. (However try to avoid getting shot by a loved one it kind of hurts.  ask Kevin)&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/6935926-108430692006998295?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108430692006998295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108430692006998295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/living-with-american-beauty.html' title='Living with American Beauty'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6935926.post-108422282229329445</id><published>2004-05-10T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T14:00:22.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It feels like the first time</title><content type='html'>Actually it is the first time.  I have now officially started a new part of my life.  This will be an extension of myself and hopefully the road to sorting out all my thoughts that will one day be known as a great literary work passed down for help or hurt to any who seek it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6935926-108422282229329445?l=extensible.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108422282229329445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6935926/posts/default/108422282229329445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://extensible.blogspot.com/2004/05/it-feels-like-first-time.html' title='It feels like the first time'/><author><name>Extensible</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06351759104649759480</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://pics.cdadirect.com/post.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
