<?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-3600328470042587848</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:59:16.129-08:00</updated><category term='Connecticut'/><category term='haiti'/><category term='running'/><category term='first post'/><category term='basketball'/><category term='parties'/><category term='class'/><category term='vegan'/><category term='boys'/><category term='university of connecticut'/><category term='school'/><category term='casey'/><category term='veganism'/><category term='relief'/><category term='beginning'/><category term='learning'/><category term='packing'/><title type='text'>Gimme That Becky</title><subtitle type='html'>Fuck Oprah.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1953038519911958819</id><published>2011-05-26T14:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T14:26:27.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This RSS feed shit sucks</title><content type='html'>seriously, what the deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1953038519911958819?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1953038519911958819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-rss-feed-shit-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1953038519911958819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1953038519911958819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-rss-feed-shit-sucks.html' title='This RSS feed shit sucks'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1767991166324008387</id><published>2011-02-16T21:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T21:26:46.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think this dude maybe didn't think this out entirely</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="margin-top: 0px; font: normal normal bold 130%/normal 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS'; letter-spacing: -1px; color: rgb(255, 102, 51); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;&lt;div class="post-header-line-1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0YAMFSd9cA/TVywPWMBwjI/AAAAAAAAACI/1HBNg8NqPxY/s1600/12977919142004.jpeg" style="color: rgb(102, 153, 204); "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0YAMFSd9cA/TVywPWMBwjI/AAAAAAAAACI/1HBNg8NqPxY/s400/12977919142004.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574524216478384690" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; padding-top: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); border-right-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(192, 192, 192); display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 358px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: helvetica, arial; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;div id="sv"&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;SARASOTA, Fla., Feb. 15 (UPI) -- Authorities in Florida said a homeless man sent to jail Friday was found to be concealing 30 items in a condom hidden in his rectum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;The Sarasota County Sheriff's Office said Neil Lansing, 33, had been jailed following a Friday court appearance on undisclosed charges when corrections deputies performing a routine cell block search noticed a piece of condom sticking out of Lansing's rectum, the Sarasota Herald-Tribune reported Tuesday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;Officials said they removed the condom and it was found to contain 17 blue pills, a cigarette, six matches, one flint, an empty syringe with an eraser covering the needle, a lip balm container, an unused condom, a pharmacy receipt and a coupon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;The sheriff's office said Lansing, who is being held without bond, is facing charges of possessing a drug and a tobacco product in jail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "&gt;This is the only thing I was wondering after I finished reading this article: why the fuck did he bother to stick the receipt up there too? I can't imagine that he was intending to return anything that he'd put up his butt, but I guess financially that's a smart decision. He may be that most forward-thinking person to over shove multiple items up his butt. But really dude, a single cigarette? why not just go for the whole pack? Not only that, but do you really want to put something that's been chillin' in your asshole for God knows how long in your mouth? I know it's your own personal butt juices and all but still, not hygienic in any sense. Also not sure why he decided to stick the condom up there, because if he was planning to bone some dude in jail i'm pretty sure gay sex is a good way to not get anyone pregnant. But on the other side, why did he bother to stick that up there anyway? It's not like condoms are illegal. Moral of the story is this guy is a total conundrum to me...really thinking on his feet with some of the things he shoved up his bumhole and then just totally missing the mark on others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1767991166324008387?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1767991166324008387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-think-this-dude-maybe-didnt-think.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1767991166324008387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1767991166324008387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-think-this-dude-maybe-didnt-think.html' title='I think this dude maybe didn&apos;t think this out entirely'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0YAMFSd9cA/TVywPWMBwjI/AAAAAAAAACI/1HBNg8NqPxY/s72-c/12977919142004.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-9060793103261067218</id><published>2011-02-15T06:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T06:40:25.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Police just violating or freedoms all over the fucking place</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tSkSd_ZAoOQ/TVqO65oFYxI/AAAAAAAAAI4/HbQGz2YzXTY/s1600/140mph_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tSkSd_ZAoOQ/TVqO65oFYxI/AAAAAAAAAI4/HbQGz2YzXTY/s400/140mph_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573924631376913170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 25px; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13.3333px;"&gt;&lt;p class="i1"   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-style: normal; line-height: 25px;  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size:13.3333px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;p class="i1"   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: initial; outline-style: none; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="dateline"  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: initial; outline-style: none; outline- vertical-align: baseline; color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;PORTLAND, Oregon — &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A man who filmed the speedometer of his car while driving more than 140 miles per hour so he could post it on YouTube, ended up in jail on Saturday and the video confiscated, police said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Stanislav Vadimovich Bakanov was pulled over by police on Oregon Interstate 5 after he was clocked driving his black 2005 BMW at 118 mph. He filmed Sheriff's Deputy Ryan Postlewait as he approached the car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;When Postlewait asked why he was videotaping, Bakanov said he was filming his speedometer, and his arrest, to post on Youtube. The video later revealed that Bakanov had attained speeds in excess of 140 mph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;He was arrested and confined in Marion County jail Saturday night, charged with reckless driving and speeding. It was his third speeding incident in the past year. The video was confiscated and will be used as evidence against him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Not cool, piggy.  Not cool at all.  I get this guy didn't really get to the part yet where he actually POSTED his speedy ride on YouTube and you didn't arrest him just for seeing the video, but the right idea was there so I call bullshit on YOU.  Can't a man just post a cool video to the internet without the Po being all up in his business?  I mean, how fucking awesome would it be to see ANOTHER video of people driving really super fast and yelling "140 miles per hour, holy shit!!" on the video.  There's never enough dumb shit on the internet, and yes, I watch all of it.  It's my right to do whatever the hell I want and post it on the internet.  That's my right as an American.  Nothing is illegal anymore if you plan to film it and then let other people get enjoyment out of it.  That's just being a good samaritan and paying it forward.  Haley Joel Osment agrees with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-9060793103261067218?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/9060793103261067218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/police-just-violating-or-freedoms-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9060793103261067218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9060793103261067218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/police-just-violating-or-freedoms-all.html' title='Police just violating or freedoms all over the fucking place'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tSkSd_ZAoOQ/TVqO65oFYxI/AAAAAAAAAI4/HbQGz2YzXTY/s72-c/140mph_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8037488643667206018</id><published>2011-02-14T16:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T16:43:05.861-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marlon Brando knows how to work a lady</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yuscHDAdjvQ/TVnK7A44uAI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ROkRhJvPFyI/s1600/5435311679_9a0bacb722_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yuscHDAdjvQ/TVnK7A44uAI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ROkRhJvPFyI/s400/5435311679_9a0bacb722_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573709129047390210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dear Lady —&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something not quite definable in your face — something lovely, not pretty in a conventionally thought of way. You have something graceful and tender and feminine (sp). You seem to be a woman who has been loved in her childhood, or else, somehow by the mystery of genetic phenomena you have been visited by the gifts of refinement, dignity and poise. Perhaps you cannot be accredited with all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irrespective of your gothic aspects, you have passed something on in terms of your expression, mien and general comportment that is unusual and rewarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a pleasant if brief encounter and I wish you well and I hope we shall have occasion to cross eyes again sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best wishes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlon Brando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; font-size: medium;"&gt;What I wouldn't give to have Marlon Brando whisper sweet nothings into my ear all night.  Calling me "not pretty in a conventional way" and "not accrediting me" with how pretty he thinks I am.  I haven't seen the word "irrespective" since...well...never, and if somebody calls you Gothic and you're not trying to be, isn't that kind of insulting?  Anyway, I guess this is how it goes when you're super famous and women are desperately trying to fuck you left and right to the point where your social etiquette skills are just completely out the window.  You end up like the Edgar Allen Poe of romance over here spouting nonsense and calling people kinda pretty, but not really.  I guess it's better than being called fat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8037488643667206018?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8037488643667206018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/marlon-brando-knows-how-to-work-lady.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8037488643667206018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8037488643667206018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/marlon-brando-knows-how-to-work-lady.html' title='Marlon Brando knows how to work a lady'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yuscHDAdjvQ/TVnK7A44uAI/AAAAAAAAAIw/ROkRhJvPFyI/s72-c/5435311679_9a0bacb722_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8660696946223723755</id><published>2011-02-14T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T09:56:35.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>epic broadcasting fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PkYS8DXcMew" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule #4 of broadcasting: never speak your own weirdo language on camera.  Darison?  Burtation?  Close to actual words, Serene, but no cigar.  The funniest part of this is that they're actually trying to claim that this lady had a stroke on camera.  I have news for them, however: sometimes you just want to speak some gibberish.  Truly, this is a broadcaster's nightmare and as a budding journalist over here, I sincerely pray that NOTHING this randomly awful happens to me.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The greatest part is when she realizes she's speaking Esperanto and takes on a look of disgust, although she knows she's in Esperanto-mode now and there's no turning back.  It's like when you speak two languages and you don't know you're speaking in one language and you can't switch back to the other and you're stuck forever in one and OH MY GOD AM I GOING TO BE LIKE THIS FOREVER?!?!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8660696946223723755?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8660696946223723755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/epic-broadcasting-fail.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8660696946223723755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8660696946223723755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/epic-broadcasting-fail.html' title='epic broadcasting fail'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/PkYS8DXcMew/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-6525365740119669748</id><published>2011-02-13T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T22:08:17.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've officially found the worst show on the planet</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pTw2Lu-8tRs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations, MTV.  You have developed the absolute most heinous show I've ever sat through.  I can watch some serious shitty television...but I can't even sit through this garbage.  The show follows some handful of teenagers around while they blow anything they can shoot up their nose, fuck each other's bony bodies, and then talk about how much they are/aren't getting laid.  The main heartthrob of this series is some little boy who looks like he walked out of an Abercrombie Kids catalogue and into this show.  The acting is so god damn awful that the expressionless dialogue isn't even remotely believable.  Everyone is so abhorring and unlikable that I was punching myself in the face  by the end of the episode.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you know what? I really wanted to fucking like this show.  I love to watch terrible televison....I don't know why, I just do.  So this looked like some Grade A trash-tv and it was so bad that I wouldn't even disgrace trash tv by putting this show in the same stratosphere.  If MTV were any sort of smart they would bury this show under old footage of "Singled Out" and "Dismissed" and never, ever let it rear its ugly head toward society.  It's gonna put an eye out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-6525365740119669748?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/6525365740119669748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/ive-officially-found-worst-show-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6525365740119669748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6525365740119669748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/ive-officially-found-worst-show-on.html' title='I&apos;ve officially found the worst show on the planet'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/pTw2Lu-8tRs/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3350355118878923043</id><published>2011-02-12T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T17:21:13.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucks for you all going to Mexico for Spring Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XN28YhPmgx8/TVcx9sTXb1I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Pg3UWixRPIk/s1600/correction%2Bmexico%2Bdrug%2Bwar-673180794_v2.grid-6x2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XN28YhPmgx8/TVcx9sTXb1I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Pg3UWixRPIk/s400/correction%2Bmexico%2Bdrug%2Bwar-673180794_v2.grid-6x2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572977999828447058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 25px; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;p class="i1"   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="dateline"  style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline; color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;GUADALAJARA, Mexico — &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Armed men opened fire and hurled a grenade into a crowded nightclub early Saturday, killing six people and wounding at least 37 in a western city whose former tranquility has been shattered by escalating battles among drug cartels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The attack in Mexico's second-largest municipality took place just hours after a shootout between soldiers and presumed cartel gunmen left eight people, including an innocent driver, dead in the northeastern city of Monterrey. Monterrey is Mexico's third-largest city.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In the Guadalajara attack, assailants in a Jeep Cherokee and a taxi drove up to the Butter Club, located in a bar and restaurant district popular with young people, and sprayed it with bullets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p   style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline- vertical-align: baseline;  font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Well, I'm damn glad I'm going to the Bahamas this March and not Mexico, that's for sure.  This isn't even crazy drug-war shit going down in the total ghettos of this country anymore...a friggin NIGHTCLUB had a GRENADE hurled into it.  Oh, don't forget that it also was "sprayed with bullets."  Yeah, that's definitely a place I want to be drunk off my ass, stumbling around wondering what in the hell is going on.  Nothing screams "Spring Break!!!" like open gunfire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3350355118878923043?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3350355118878923043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/sucks-for-you-all-going-to-mexico-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3350355118878923043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3350355118878923043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/sucks-for-you-all-going-to-mexico-for.html' title='Sucks for you all going to Mexico for Spring Break'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XN28YhPmgx8/TVcx9sTXb1I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Pg3UWixRPIk/s72-c/correction%2Bmexico%2Bdrug%2Bwar-673180794_v2.grid-6x2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3255135159025660067</id><published>2011-02-12T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T17:13:43.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will I ever recover from this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y4GRTmZo_64/TVcunN9qmaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ZcFHCuw4Kh4/s1600/59074_funny_302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 352px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y4GRTmZo_64/TVcunN9qmaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ZcFHCuw4Kh4/s400/59074_funny_302.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572974315192359330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iNnNWMsbZJo/TVcuVvE9UqI/AAAAAAAAAIY/NXj8EixOOCA/s1600/mr-hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iNnNWMsbZJo/TVcuVvE9UqI/AAAAAAAAAIY/NXj8EixOOCA/s400/mr-hands.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572974014843671202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; obviously late in the game on this one, but I just was directed to watch "2 Guys 1 Horse" a.k.a Mr. Hands &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gettin&lt;/span&gt;' on with his bad self and letting a horse put its foot and a half long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;winkie&lt;/span&gt; in his bum-bum hole.  Let me say this to the lucky few who have yet to see/hear of this video:  For the love of everything that is pure in the world, do NOT watch this video.  I was okay with watching this man's bare ass sticking out in the air.  I was okay with watching the other man grab the horse's wiener and direct it toward this man's butt-hole.  I was even okay with the fact that I completely realized this man was letting a horse bone him (Well, I wasn't &lt;i&gt;okay&lt;/i&gt; with any of this, but I knew what I was getting myself into so it didn't completely disturb me on the level it could have).  What I DEFINITELY WAS NOT OKAY WITH was the horrible, gruesome site of that horse's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wang&lt;/span&gt; when it emerged from that man's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;derriere&lt;/span&gt;.  Holy Jesus, I swear to God I will never be the same.  There really are some things you can't unsee, and that website is doing the world a favor by limiting the viewing on one computer to once every hour (...yes, i attempted to play it more than once on my computer to show it to a friend so somebody could suffer with me).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically, it begs the question: What in the holy hell is wrong with this dude?  Did he not see this horse's dick and think to himself, "wow, that is one massive cock.  I'm pretty sure my anal canal is not nearly going to accommodate that thing, so maybe i should just let the tip in and call it a day.  Then, when it's all said and done, instead of realizing that his ass-naked friend was just mortally wounded, the man filming the whole spectacle simply goes, "Oh.  He came."  Stop concentrating on whether or not the horse is sexually satisfied and take your friend to a fucking hospital, pronto.  Needless to say, the dude died because his pancreas got punctured by the horse's shlong.  Darwin Awards, I hope you're listening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3255135159025660067?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3255135159025660067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/will-i-ever-recover-from-this.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3255135159025660067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3255135159025660067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/will-i-ever-recover-from-this.html' title='Will I ever recover from this?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y4GRTmZo_64/TVcunN9qmaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ZcFHCuw4Kh4/s72-c/59074_funny_302.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1956904015365117072</id><published>2011-02-12T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T11:31:30.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JWoww gives me a girl boner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hT8YmmUCT4U/TVbfZA0VBOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/vq1Vw3wkAog/s1600/jwoww.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hT8YmmUCT4U/TVbfZA0VBOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/vq1Vw3wkAog/s400/jwoww.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572887209726772450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AD30Q9e2rOw/TVbem4UzSMI/AAAAAAAAAII/sbXE6CXc2Cw/s1600/j-woww-hot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AD30Q9e2rOw/TVbem4UzSMI/AAAAAAAAAII/sbXE6CXc2Cw/s400/j-woww-hot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572886348453595330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't care if she peed behind a bar then watered it down.  I don't care that she's fucking the equivelant of an overly-groomed motorcycle gang reject that probably smells like ballsac doused in Axe.  I don't even care that she walks like she has a footlong dick.  When I saw JWoww wearing her leather Dominatrix shit and lookin all like a crazy cop gone totally psycho, and THEN whispering "Can you handcuff me?" as she led Roger up the stairs, I fell in love.  This season has been nothing but watching Ronnie and Sammi engage in their completely dysfunctional, sorry excuse for a relationship, but this gem came out of nowhere and I'm so, so glad it did.  The girl's fake boobies looked magical and Snooki and I were both looking at her in total jealousy.  Sammi's attractive, but DAYUMMM, JWoww is just balls to the wall hot.  I'd suffer through a day watching my guy friends play Call of Duty to have that bod for 3 hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1956904015365117072?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1956904015365117072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/jwoww-gives-me-girl-boner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1956904015365117072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1956904015365117072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/jwoww-gives-me-girl-boner.html' title='JWoww gives me a girl boner'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hT8YmmUCT4U/TVbfZA0VBOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/vq1Vw3wkAog/s72-c/jwoww.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-293277440209656078</id><published>2011-02-12T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T11:17:51.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If this isn't the American Dream, I don't know what is</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yOOehqmsEm4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is why I love this country.  Because if you really, really want to, you can roll around all over the place, high on PCP, confused as fuck, and all people will do is film you and shake their heads.  I'll be completely honest, too...this guy knows how to move.  Kickin' his legs, slappin' his belly like a bongo drum, just loving the fact that he's got an extra 300 pounds to play with while he's tripping face.  I mean if there was ever the perfect time to be fat, this is it.  And to Coup de Gras, we get to see about 3/4 of his jiggly chocolate behind, which in PCP land is like 2 steps away from straight up boning.  Fuck traffic, fuck pedestrians, fuck the guy filming this entire baffling scene, he's gonna shake it like a polaroid picture and we're gonna recognize that this is why America is the greatest country in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-293277440209656078?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/293277440209656078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/if-this-isnt-american-dream-i-dont-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/293277440209656078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/293277440209656078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/if-this-isnt-american-dream-i-dont-know.html' title='If this isn&apos;t the American Dream, I don&apos;t know what is'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/yOOehqmsEm4/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1154751137452220341</id><published>2011-02-12T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T10:54:02.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well this is embarrassing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LqeAsKiQS6A/TVbXO0mc6KI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bs8cZa1-ZxQ/s1600/russia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LqeAsKiQS6A/TVbXO0mc6KI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bs8cZa1-ZxQ/s400/russia.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572878238555629730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;p class="i1" style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="dateline" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;MOSCOW — &lt;/span&gt;Does the sun revolve around the earth? One in every three Russians thinks so, a spokeswoman for state pollster VsTIOM said Friday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: initial; outline-style: none; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;In a survey released this week, 32 percent of Russians believed Earth was the center of the solar system; 55 percent said that all radioactivity is human-made; and 29 percent said that the first humans lived when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;The study found that women were more likely than men to believe the scientific fallacies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;"It's really quite amazing," spokeswoman Olga Kamenchuk said of the survey, which polled 1,600 people across Russia's regions in January, with a 3.4 percent margin of error.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;"All of them (the questions) were absolutely obvious. ... The &lt;a class="iAs" classname="iAs" href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/41539330/ns/technology_and_science-science/#" target="_blank" itxtdid="29140578" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 1px !important; padding-left: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0.075em !important; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; float: none; left: auto; right: auto; top: auto; bottom: auto; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: solid !important; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; background-color: transparent !important; line-height: 1.6em; text-align: left; position: static !important; display: inline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; color: rgb(0, 100, 0) !important; font-weight: normal !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 100, 0) !important; text-decoration: underline !important; "&gt;data&lt;/a&gt; speaks of the low levels of education in the country."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;However, people tend to forget what they have been taught at school if it is not part of daily use, she added: "I wonder whether our colleagues in other countries would find any different."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; font-style: italic; "&gt;Some of the questions are similar to those that were asked of Americans:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; list-style-type: disc; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 25px; font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;li style="margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 15px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;Seventy-two percent of Americans agree with the scientific view that Earth goes around the sun, based on a 2008 poll cited in the National Science Foundation's Science and Engineering Indicators 2010.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 15px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;Sixty-three percent of Americans surveyed correctly answered that not all radioactivity is human-made, in a quiz conducted as part of a 2009 Pew Research Center study.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 15px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;And 59 percent of the respondents in a 2009 Harris poll agreed with the scientific view that the earliest humans and dinosaurs did not live at the same time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;I'm not so much embarrassed for the Russians...I'm embarrassed because of the fun facts at the end.  72 percent of Americans agree with the Scientific view that the earth goes around the sun?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Last time I checked, this was a pretty solid fact and most people should be getting on board.  It actually baffles my mind that people are just wandering around this country like petulant three-year-olds, refusing to accept that their views might be wrong.  and less than 60 percent agree that the earliest humans and dinosaurs didn't live at the same time?  Do these people think "The Flintstones" is a historical narrative of the trials and tribulations of life on Pangea?  I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to believe that humans and dinosaurs lived at the same time too because that would be fucking sweet, but I'm accepting reality at this point...nobody ever had a pterodactyl as a housepet.  Get with it, retards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1154751137452220341?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1154751137452220341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/well-this-is-embarrassing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1154751137452220341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1154751137452220341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/well-this-is-embarrassing.html' title='Well this is embarrassing.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LqeAsKiQS6A/TVbXO0mc6KI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bs8cZa1-ZxQ/s72-c/russia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-672718741154333477</id><published>2011-02-11T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T16:07:51.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen, Donald.  It's not that we don't like you or anything..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H3-gUX4jThE/TVXOQrL3wCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QO68lr_DpAE/s1600/6a00d8341d19f453ef00e5536503678834-800wi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H3-gUX4jThE/TVXOQrL3wCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QO68lr_DpAE/s400/6a00d8341d19f453ef00e5536503678834-800wi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572586899806601250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Washington (CNN)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; -- Just picture the Donald Trump for President bumper sticker: "Barack Obama, You're Fired."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The Conservative Political Action Conference now going on in Washington might as well be a new reality television smash hit: "American Presidential Idol."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Only this time, the man who has served as the leading judge on various versions of "The Apprentice" for 11 seasons on NBC finds himself playing the role of contestant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just before Trump's speech to the rowdy CPAC crowd Thursday, a woman yelled: "You're hired." The fact that "The Donald" is being talked about as a serious contender for the White House means the Republican field for 2012 is wide open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yup, Donald Trump.  We definitely want a gazillionaire like you to have even more undeserved power and be president of the country.  I'm sure you won't completely satisfy you're own business needs first and I'm sure you completely understand foreign and military affairs.  I don't trust anyone who can't get their fucking hairdo to stay on their head to be the most famous person in America.  I also don't trust his funny accent.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not a gold digger or anything (I'm a fucking journalism major, for crying out loud.  Money's not exactly my top priority in life) but there's a good amount of people I'd fuck just because they're so damn rich.  George Bush, check.  Yao Ming, check.  Justin Bieber, check.  Donald Trump?  Fucking no way in hell.  And that's pretty much how I pick my presidents, so he definitely can't take over the White House.  You're not bangable, you're not getting my vote.  Sorry I'm not sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-672718741154333477?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/672718741154333477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/listen-donald-its-not-that-we-dont-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/672718741154333477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/672718741154333477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/listen-donald-its-not-that-we-dont-like.html' title='Listen, Donald.  It&apos;s not that we don&apos;t like you or anything..'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H3-gUX4jThE/TVXOQrL3wCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/QO68lr_DpAE/s72-c/6a00d8341d19f453ef00e5536503678834-800wi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8033896452656080584</id><published>2011-02-11T15:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T15:51:02.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every dog I own is like the one on the bottom right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xThwOFO68o/TVXKoZ8W17I/AAAAAAAAAHw/6xDvrNg0dk8/s1600/Labs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 359px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xThwOFO68o/TVXKoZ8W17I/AAAAAAAAAHw/6xDvrNg0dk8/s400/Labs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572582909448476594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm may be the only person on the fence about dogs, and this is why.  Every time I've ever owned a dog, I get the one that turns out to be completely untrainable, shits and pisses in the house, and never learns its own name.  I spent the first three years of my dog's life trying to teach it to roll over.  It NEVER learned how to do it.  Whenever I get a treat out, my dog loses it's mind and reverts to the only method it knows to get that treat out of my hand: perform all the tricks she knows in the rapid-fire succession, concluding with a grand finale of laying on the ground, exhausted and out of breath.  We now refer to that last one as "playing dead" and it's officially a trick.  Basically, I need an animal that will just sit still for three hours while I lose all sense of reality on Stumbleupon.com.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cat's I can get on board with.  But that's a post for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8033896452656080584?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8033896452656080584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/every-dog-i-own-is-like-one-on-bottom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8033896452656080584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8033896452656080584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/every-dog-i-own-is-like-one-on-bottom.html' title='Every dog I own is like the one on the bottom right'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1xThwOFO68o/TVXKoZ8W17I/AAAAAAAAAHw/6xDvrNg0dk8/s72-c/Labs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-736847254006927910</id><published>2011-02-11T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T12:19:22.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaron Carter, stop.  Just stop.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-65qIO5-5jT8/TVWZMgRNhRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/QGbC3rJUyhE/s1600/aaroncarter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-65qIO5-5jT8/TVWZMgRNhRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/QGbC3rJUyhE/s400/aaroncarter.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572528554040460562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 12px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;After a month in rehab for what his manager calls "some emotional and spiritual issues he was dealing with," &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-weight: 700; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Aaron Carter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; is back to work. According to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eonline.com/uberblog/b225579_aaron_carter_out_of_rehab_back_on_music.html" target="_blank" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; color: rgb(0, 121, 190); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E! Online&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, the 23-year-old singer and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dancing with the Stars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; alum has checked out of the Betty Ford Center in Southern California and is back in his native Florida working on a new album.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 12px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-  vertical-align: baseline; color:initial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 12px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-  vertical-align: baseline; font-size:12px;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Aaron, please, we're begging you.  Stop making us listen to your garbage and enough with the comebacks.  You will spend your life in the shadow of your older brother, and that guy's a total loser, too. Not only are you the most skeletal, gaunt looking fleshy excuse for a person I've ever seen, but you're so good at being a drug addict you should just go ahead and stick to that.  "The Carters" was just a show about how much a trainwreck your family is, and that was some great television.  America's loves you as a total shitshow, Aaron, so give the masses what they want.  Take a hit of your crack pipe, then get out there and be somebody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-736847254006927910?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/736847254006927910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/aaron-carter-stop-just-stop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/736847254006927910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/736847254006927910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/aaron-carter-stop-just-stop.html' title='Aaron Carter, stop.  Just stop.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-65qIO5-5jT8/TVWZMgRNhRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/QGbC3rJUyhE/s72-c/aaroncarter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1798714358015500767</id><published>2011-02-11T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T12:08:22.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Supernanny solidifies my notions that i never, ever want children</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NaA2RcW4rAI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe these people are horrible parents who should have never squeezed out spawn, but watching this show makes my hair curl for two reasons.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;b&gt;These kids are devil children sent from the underworld to destroy families&lt;/b&gt;.  I bet these people were really fucking happy before these kids came into their lives, and now their existences have been reduced to getting slapped by teeny tiny little hands, getting velcro shoes thrown in their faces, and prying these children out of bed so they can go to school and get the fuck out of their hair for 6 hours.  I would cherish every moment I spent at work if I had kids like these.  Kids are like mean, whiny versions of real people.  At least that's what this show makes them look like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;b&gt;Supernanny makes these people parent like total pussies.  &lt;/b&gt;Supernanny doesn't let these people give their kids a little hit or two when they get out of line, and that's bullshit.  I was a mouthy little shit when I was a kid, and every now and then I got a good smack on the ass or the face and you know what?  I shut the fuck up.  I would look up, tears streaming down my face from throwing a temper tantrum, and see the angry face of my father staring down at me from eight feet up and I would think to myself, "Whoa, this guy could totally kick my ass.  I'm going to be a much better child."  I'm not saying that these parents should be shaking their babies to stop crying, but every now and then a little pain could really set you straight.  Worst comes to worst, crush their favorite toy right in front of them.  Nothing says, "I love you, but I'm really disappointed in you right now" like an eight-piece Polly Pocket set crushed to smithereens. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1798714358015500767?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1798714358015500767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/supernanny-solidifies-my-notions-that-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1798714358015500767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1798714358015500767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/supernanny-solidifies-my-notions-that-i.html' title='Supernanny solidifies my notions that i never, ever want children'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/NaA2RcW4rAI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3440536260255856723</id><published>2011-02-11T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T11:56:09.432-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna kill some time?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/realwizkhalifa"&gt;Follow Wiz Khalifa's Blog.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, that shit will keep you entertained for hours.  Maybe you have to really like weed, but if you enjoy reading the random stream of consciousness of celebrities, then this should do the trick.  I normally hate Twitter because nobody's important enough to update their lives to the world 24/7, but this guys just tickles my fancy, I guess.  He also apparently has a $15,000-per-month weed habit, and I can respect anyone shelling out that much of their riches to that.  The dude's funny looking as hell, but he churns out good songs like a motherfucker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D76jhTGP7bI/TVWT59q8_MI/AAAAAAAAAHg/CqeOP1WcwaM/s1600/wiz-khalifa-mugshot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D76jhTGP7bI/TVWT59q8_MI/AAAAAAAAAHg/CqeOP1WcwaM/s400/wiz-khalifa-mugshot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572522737957403842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3440536260255856723?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3440536260255856723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/wanna-kill-some-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3440536260255856723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3440536260255856723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/wanna-kill-some-time.html' title='Wanna kill some time?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D76jhTGP7bI/TVWT59q8_MI/AAAAAAAAAHg/CqeOP1WcwaM/s72-c/wiz-khalifa-mugshot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8895006751406642653</id><published>2011-02-11T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T11:28:50.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jonathan, start kicking the crap out of other mascots like this guy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7_aaYih92ss" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy. Shit. Yes.  This is absolutely that UConn needs more of.  Mascots who are willing to serve other mascots a beatdown.  And out mascot is a Husky, so we're completely capable of being a force to be reckoned with in the mascot world.  I actually (sadly) spend a significant amount of time on YouTube looking at videos of the Oregon Duck because he's just so freaking funny.  He gropes cheerleaders, he grabs his fleshy patch of duck-genitalia and gestures violently to the other team, he BREAKDANCES.   Jonathan The Husky just swaggers around and claps his hand and takes pictures with little kids.  Everytime I see that mascot I think about how much better of a job I could do.  Give me 20 minutes in that costume and there will be at least three crying children, severe tears in the other mascot's uniform, and free t-shirts for all...as long as I get to use the t-shirt gun.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come on, UConn, we can do better.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8895006751406642653?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8895006751406642653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/jonathan-start-kicking-crap-out-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8895006751406642653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8895006751406642653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/jonathan-start-kicking-crap-out-of.html' title='Jonathan, start kicking the crap out of other mascots like this guy!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/7_aaYih92ss/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1866621248086390187</id><published>2011-02-11T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T11:10:50.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What are the chances of getting caught for this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TgYwCa_bHLQ/TVWIS2ygDNI/AAAAAAAAAHU/oHO9-tSxdts/s1600/20110129-kdastrix6m5m32yirngu8mwjjy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TgYwCa_bHLQ/TVWIS2ygDNI/AAAAAAAAAHU/oHO9-tSxdts/s400/20110129-kdastrix6m5m32yirngu8mwjjy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509971467209938" /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 24px; "&gt;&lt;span class="dateline" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. — &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Police have matched DNA taken from a 31-year-old man to semen found in a yogurt sample that was offered at an Albuquerque grocery store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Albuquerque Police Department spokeswoman Trish Hoffman said Thursday an investigation is continuing but the man faces a potential charge for battery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hoffman says Food and Drug Administration authorities are also looking into the case and might pursue a federal felony charge for food tampering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Police responded to the Sunflower Market in northwest Albuquerque on Jan. 26 after a woman called 911 and reported a store employee had given her what she was told was a yogurt sample. The woman told police she believed it was actually a bodily fluid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hoffman says the man was arrested on an unrelated warrant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This girl deserves a senior detective position with the NYPD.  I bet this lady was being a heinous bitch, and he thought the perfect way to fuck with this jackass woman would be to whack off in her yogurt.  Seriously, if that were some vanilla or plain yogurt and he maybe mixed it around the little, he probably completely thought he'd get away with it.  I mean, I would too.  But this lady probably hadn't blown her husband in 15 years, so the second she got a little salty taste in her mouth, instead of thinking "Man, this yogurt is garbage," she thought "I know what this flavor is....time to call the authorities because I've got jizz in my mouth."  I mean, yeah, nobody wants a mouthful of jizz when you're not expecting it, but the fact that she was able to pinpoint that flavor in a an entire container full of yogurt is pretty impressive.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1866621248086390187?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1866621248086390187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-are-chances-of-getting-caught-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1866621248086390187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1866621248086390187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-are-chances-of-getting-caught-for.html' title='What are the chances of getting caught for this?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TgYwCa_bHLQ/TVWIS2ygDNI/AAAAAAAAAHU/oHO9-tSxdts/s72-c/20110129-kdastrix6m5m32yirngu8mwjjy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-337037941458276885</id><published>2011-02-11T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T10:57:13.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Could this fucking douchebag just name a successor already and stop dicking us all around?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This Hosni Mubarak bullshit is starting to get seriously annoying.  My profs are bitching at me constantly to keep up with the news and pick up a newspaper, but it's been like three weeks now and practically nothing has changed.  All I see whenever I turn on any news station is a hundred million little dots of people holding signs in languages I can't read.  How long do I have to watch a huge shot of a mob?  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And not only that, but the dude just FINALLY stepped down...but, wait for it...he never named a successor!  So now it's just Egyptians running around, just like they did before, all wanting their freedom and shit, but there's literally NO leader.  Wow, thanks, you asshole.  Now I have to watch mobs for eight more days until this mess of a country gets some sort of order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and we'll all be watching this all again as each Middle Eastern country revolts one by one.  Just sayin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WwzfbfpOs0g/TVWFTQIVIXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kKRXhDUZVRE/s1600/mubarak3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 278px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WwzfbfpOs0g/TVWFTQIVIXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kKRXhDUZVRE/s400/mubarak3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572506679734772082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-337037941458276885?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/337037941458276885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/could-this-fucking-douchebag-just-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/337037941458276885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/337037941458276885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/02/could-this-fucking-douchebag-just-name.html' title='Could this fucking douchebag just name a successor already and stop dicking us all around?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WwzfbfpOs0g/TVWFTQIVIXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kKRXhDUZVRE/s72-c/mubarak3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-728776987253720147</id><published>2011-01-03T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T10:55:27.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Quarters smooshed inside of your bellybutton?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GKfbgoM2QUs?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GKfbgoM2QUs?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, honestly, I'm not that impressed.  20 quarters is like five bucks, and that's not enough to even get me anything good at Friendly's.  If you can't buy us two Honey BBQ Melts at that place, then I don't want to have anything to do with you.  You better get figure out how to get about 30 more quarters in there before we go anywhere together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-728776987253720147?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/728776987253720147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/01/20-quarters-smooshed-inside-of-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/728776987253720147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/728776987253720147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2011/01/20-quarters-smooshed-inside-of-your.html' title='20 Quarters smooshed inside of your bellybutton?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3991829405909538733</id><published>2010-12-28T18:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T18:08:53.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peekaboo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRqX8GM_lYI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SO8qV6dDWis/s1600/greatest-photobomb-ever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRqX8GM_lYI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SO8qV6dDWis/s400/greatest-photobomb-ever.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555920149027984770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Think you're getting a picture of some lameass penguins?  Think again, biatch!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3991829405909538733?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3991829405909538733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/peekaboo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3991829405909538733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3991829405909538733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/peekaboo.html' title='Peekaboo!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRqX8GM_lYI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SO8qV6dDWis/s72-c/greatest-photobomb-ever.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2379941215624671841</id><published>2010-12-25T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T16:26:10.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insanity Fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRaLgYo4dxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/rdalLYMShsg/s1600/insanity%2Bfail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRaLgYo4dxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/rdalLYMShsg/s400/insanity%2Bfail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554780578894083858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess it's not for everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2379941215624671841?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2379941215624671841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/insanity-fail.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2379941215624671841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2379941215624671841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/insanity-fail.html' title='Insanity Fail'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRaLgYo4dxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/rdalLYMShsg/s72-c/insanity%2Bfail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7696183015734731159</id><published>2010-12-24T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T19:58:10.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sooo this guy is a beast.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 288px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554463066438486226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRVquukXyNI/AAAAAAAAAGs/6LjEBDTAgRs/s400/robert.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess there will always be a market for this guy to play a crazy fuck.  Literally the only two times I've seen him he's been grunting and hitting things aimlessly and running around with no real direction and just trying to kill someone until they are super dead. He also gets outwitted every time by a smaller dude and then the jokes on him and he's the one who's toast, so sucks to be him in movies because his role lasts 10-15 minutes before he's all running off a cliff or waddling into impending doom.  But not to worry, one day another script will call for a burly, 6'7 man to grunt and hit things with a club/general large object and he will be put to work once again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7696183015734731159?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7696183015734731159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/sooo-this-guy-is-beast.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7696183015734731159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7696183015734731159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/sooo-this-guy-is-beast.html' title='Sooo this guy is a beast.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRVquukXyNI/AAAAAAAAAGs/6LjEBDTAgRs/s72-c/robert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1647545995622609513</id><published>2010-12-20T19:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T19:51:33.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRAkO8LS1jI/AAAAAAAAAGk/TKYpo3kA4fs/s1600/anatidaephobia-duck-fear-demotivational-poster-1232497634.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 346px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRAkO8LS1jI/AAAAAAAAAGk/TKYpo3kA4fs/s400/anatidaephobia-duck-fear-demotivational-poster-1232497634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552978179638089266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 15px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Shit's real, people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1647545995622609513?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1647545995622609513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/shits-real-people.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1647545995622609513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1647545995622609513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/shits-real-people.html' title=''/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TRAkO8LS1jI/AAAAAAAAAGk/TKYpo3kA4fs/s72-c/anatidaephobia-duck-fear-demotivational-poster-1232497634.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-6074717402323240234</id><published>2010-12-15T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T13:09:31.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If animals could talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-ssXJtzFOjA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-ssXJtzFOjA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is one of the funniest things I've seen in awhile.  Mostly because listening to animals with british accents is hilarious in itself.  Enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.  Make this full screen to see it properly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-6074717402323240234?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/6074717402323240234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/if-animals-could-talk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6074717402323240234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6074717402323240234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/if-animals-could-talk.html' title='If animals could talk'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8088384250791373302</id><published>2010-12-15T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T12:47:09.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing, amazing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/12/12/magazine/14actors.html"&gt;Actor's Acting by &lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/12/12/magazine/14actors.html"&gt;The New York Times&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you haven't seen this yet, definitely check it out because it's pretty damn cool.  Basically, The Times asked 14 different actors to portray one of the typical character-types in Hollywood.  My two favorites are probably Matt Damon's and James Franco's, but honestly, if you really watch the facial expressions and subtle movements, they're all freakin' fantastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8088384250791373302?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8088384250791373302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/amazing-amazing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8088384250791373302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8088384250791373302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/amazing-amazing.html' title='Amazing, amazing.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2991264607123740246</id><published>2010-12-13T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T11:12:58.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TQbgwcuDJBI/AAAAAAAAAGc/2XICt6CDpCo/s400/h-glassy-wave-curl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550370713728394258" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Sometimes, the world is just really fucking beautiful and I know this is probably color boosted and everything, but damn, I just want to freeze the time/space continuum and curl up inside this wave.  Maybe set up one of those hammocks with its own stand included.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.   I'm super fucking high.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2991264607123740246?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2991264607123740246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/sometimes-world-is-just-really-fucking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2991264607123740246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2991264607123740246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/sometimes-world-is-just-really-fucking.html' title=''/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TQbgwcuDJBI/AAAAAAAAAGc/2XICt6CDpCo/s72-c/h-glassy-wave-curl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7922013480240955352</id><published>2010-12-12T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T22:28:37.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Hey Sarah Palin</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TQW8jCHCmwI/AAAAAAAAAGU/1UPOKEbZUzM/s400/sarah-palin-parasailing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550049425851849474" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "&gt;“As for that VP talk all the time, I’ll tell you, I still can’t answer that question until somebody answers for me what is it exactly that the VP does every day?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;strong style="outline-width: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-color: initial; margin-bottom: 0px !important; "&gt;Sarah Palin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="outline-width: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-color: initial; margin-bottom: 0px !important; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Should I be worried that this woman is pioneering the political sphere?  I really think so.  I say this because I'm watching "Sarah Palin's Alaska" and I'm a little concerned.  I mean, why should i think that because you go looking for bears and catch trout with your bare hands (or something like that...) that you should be running the country?  You're scarin' me, Sarah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7922013480240955352?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7922013480240955352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/oh-hey-sarah-palin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7922013480240955352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7922013480240955352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/12/oh-hey-sarah-palin.html' title='Oh, Hey Sarah Palin'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TQW8jCHCmwI/AAAAAAAAAGU/1UPOKEbZUzM/s72-c/sarah-palin-parasailing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3758159423595997859</id><published>2010-11-28T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T09:04:06.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ever watched Richie Rich as a 20 year-old or older?  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Possibly the best movie I've seen in my life.  There's is a laser fight on the top of Mount Richmore at the end.  That should draw anyone in.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!  Mine was fabulous, especially when my Nana got a little drunk and lifted up her shirt to show us all how toned her stomach is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check out my uncle on the left, lookin' all crazy and stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TPKLdkVXoLI/AAAAAAAAAGM/P5nM28BvVIY/s400/thanksgiving.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544647431332274354" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I already booked it back to school.  On Friday, in fact.  I couldn't get back here fast enough.   Three hours at home (with 2 of those hours being occupied by dinner and doing laundry) is more than enough for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy your last few Thanksgiving hours!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3758159423595997859?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3758159423595997859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/11/happy-thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3758159423595997859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3758159423595997859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TPKLdkVXoLI/AAAAAAAAAGM/P5nM28BvVIY/s72-c/thanksgiving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1729604504096970100</id><published>2010-10-12T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T12:46:02.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindle Sucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;A year ago, I wrote an article for my column in the school newspaper, "The Green Scene," which ripped the Kindle apart.  In my humble and completely un-biased opinion, it was an awesome article and it took into account both sides of a product.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's the article if your interested: http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-dark-truth-behind-the-kindle-1.1109918&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you check out the comments section of that article, you'll see that people HATED the article.  They literally thought that I was Satan disguised as a UConn student parading around and flinging McDonald's wrappers into the air to litter the campus.  One person even heard me and a friend talking about the article, and randomly interjected, "Are you talking about the Kindle article?  That was the biggest piece of shit I've ever read in my life."  I told him I wrote the article and asked him to substantiate his opinion. He sulked away extremely embarrassed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYWAY, i readdressed the topic in my article this week, and I'm excited for it to be published, but it goes into textbooks this time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here it is: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;The very first article to kick off “The Green Scene” essentially bashed the Kindle.  I spoke of the potential hidden ramifications of when it dies and you throw it away and leave it to rot in a landfill.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I still don’t trust this little machine, but it takes on a whole different meaning when it comes to textbooks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I look at my roommate’s two enormous organic chemistry books and I couldn’t help but think that squeezing that content onto a Kindle would not only save her poor, suffering back, but also save her impending financial crisis from forking out thousands of dollars to the Co-Op.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;When I think of the sheer mechanics of lugging a 10-pound book around, I immediately favor Kindles pursuing world domination, starting with UConn because I would willingly oblige.  But then I consider all the things I actually wouldn’t be able to do on a kindle, and how much I mark some of my textbooks within an inch of their semester-long lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“I think it would be useful to have a light, portable option, but it would be difficult to have the conventional tools of being able to highlight, bookmark, et cetera,” said Kate White, a 5th semester animal science major. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;How would I flip between page 27, which has the detailed picture of the Parasympathetic Activation System and page 890, which has its definition?  How would I make long and pointless reminders to myself in the margins?  Defacing a kindle by highlighting the little plastic screen would probably be ineffective, not to mention a poor choice, economically-speaking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“I think the status quo is fine right now.  There’s no need to further complicate our lives as it is.  I think at some point in the future we’ll come up with something better than that stupid thing to read books on,”  said Dillon Kearns, a 7th semester political science major.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That trailblazing prophecy may be true, considering using a Kindle may not even save you that much money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In the summer of 2009, Kindle introduced its bigger-faced version specifically designed for academic purposes, but it cost $489 (a regular Kindle costs $359).  Factoring in the cost of e-textbooks, you may end up saving some cash over the course of several semesters, but some people spend significantly less than that on their books, particularly when they get them from Chegg.com or Amazon.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And what about passing your books off to your friends?  There’s no way to sell a book or create a “used” book option, basically ensuring publishing companies a monopoly and the ability to slap a single, astronomically high price on a textbook since you can only obtain it from one place. That’s Communism, kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The moral of this story is that, much like the credo of the very first article for this column, there is more to the Kindle than meets me eye.  There are a few obvious advantages to simplifying and consolidating all your textbooks, but when you consider how differently you treat a textbook compared to a regular book, it couldn’t work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Or maybe you’re one of those people who doesn’t even buy the textbook, let alone highlight it.  In that case, you’re the most eco-friendly person out of all of us, so keep up the good work, tiger!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there you have it.  The Kindle still fucking sucks.  It will never not suck.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1729604504096970100?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1729604504096970100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/10/kindle-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1729604504096970100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1729604504096970100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/10/kindle-sucks.html' title='Kindle Sucks'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8674324994748160899</id><published>2010-09-14T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T21:02:17.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back at school and that is nice</title><content type='html'>I've made my way back to UConn and things are just wonderful.  I'm living in a sick apartment with my two best friends, and I am pretty much happy with the way everything is going.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, today.... we started a little workout video called Insanity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, this is no regular work out video.  This is the mecca of workout videos; the mind-altering, body-morphing, cry-your-way-through-squats workout video that will have you gargling your intestines by the end.  This shit makes Jillian Michaels' "No More Trouble Zones" look like a day at the kiddie pool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you need a visual, here it is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cSccVzdYhmI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cSccVzdYhmI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started today with the highest of enthusiams.  We were going to conquer this demon and make something of ourselves.  We will look hot for Halloween, flaunting our six-packs and toned arms, parading around like a trio of fitness gurus with only two weeks left on October 31.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we started the Fit Test.  The warm-up was pretty straightforward and I was feeling pretty good.  Jumping jacks, Heisman's, nothing too insane.  Even some light stretching was involved.  Is this all it takes to get in shape?  why didn't I know this before?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, how naive I was.  We got into the fit test, where you complete each move for a minute before taking a  break and moving on.  It was only FIFTEEN MINUTES....and I nearly died.  There were minute breaks, and I was on the verge of choking.  This was the most intense, mind-blowing, heart-pounding workout I have ever done.  and it was only fifteen fucking minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have no idea how I'm going to continue on to day 2, which is plyometrics and is an out of control 45 minutes long with ZERO breaks.  In fact, the incredibly athletic-looking people in the video can't even do the damn workout...it's that hard.  People are just walkin' off to get water and stopping and falling on the floor throughout the whole thing.  And these people devote their lives to fitness.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I stil am excited to keep doing this, but I must say that I'm nervous for tomorrow.  This shit better turn my body into Rihanna's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8674324994748160899?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8674324994748160899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-back-at-school-and-that-is-nice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8674324994748160899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8674324994748160899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-back-at-school-and-that-is-nice.html' title='I&apos;m back at school and that is nice'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7017440750933554859</id><published>2010-08-11T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T17:11:55.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things in life that annoy me...therefore they shouldn't exist</title><content type='html'>1.) Duets&lt;div&gt;2.) KFC's Double Down Sandwich&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.) Advertisements that tell me eating Cheerio's "may help lower my cholesterol."  That's like saying water will help lower my cholesterol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.) When Chris Matthews won't let his guests talk so he can repeatedly impress his opinion on whatever poor soul chooses to go on his show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.) Rompers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.) Justin Bieber&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.) BBM..what the fuck is the point?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8.) Dancing With The Stars&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9.) grunting men at the gym&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10.) The Tea Party&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11.) chewing with your mouth open&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12.) pre-teens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13.) shows that have punctuation at the end of them, for example: "Bethenny Getting Married?" "So You Think You Can Dance?" and "Dance Your Ass Off!"  we're not going speak the show as if we're confused by its name and we're definitely not going to shout it, so let's leave the unnecessary question marks and exclamation points out of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14.) People who go to the self-checkout line who CLEARLY can't figure out the scanner&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15.) Eminem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16.) the Munchies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's all i got for now, but that's just what I can think of on the spot which I can't decide whether is good or pretty sad.  But seriously, duets are the WORST.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7017440750933554859?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7017440750933554859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/things-in-life-that-annoy-metherefore.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7017440750933554859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7017440750933554859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/things-in-life-that-annoy-metherefore.html' title='Things in life that annoy me...therefore they shouldn&apos;t exist'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8132854824330457990</id><published>2010-08-08T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T15:04:59.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One person in life who's bad news.</title><content type='html'>In college, you meet many types of people, and most of them are interesting and worth knowing in their own ways.  There's the stoner, the friend who always stays in to study, the friend who you always get advice from, the friend who's drunk ass you'll probably end up taking care of at the end of the night, etc. etc.  But there's one girl who you should always, ALWAYS be wary of.  She seems harmless and lures you in with sweet talk, but she is a manipulative she-devil that will fuck you over at the soonest possible moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the girl with no other girl friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, she'll come across as a totally cool person and you're utterly baffled as to why no other girls have befriended her before you.  She's usually very attractive by male standards, and she although she clearly knows this, she wears more casual clothes during the week except on the weekends where she reverts to total slut-mode to attract attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TF8p5lZsKiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-jc_2yzGHFo/s1600/pic.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 418px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TF8p5lZsKiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-jc_2yzGHFo/s400/pic.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503163338939181602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of what she's wearing, she'll suddenly confide in you one day.  It'll be something along the lines of, "I really just don't have any girl friends.  Girls cause such drama and I HATE that, so I really just only hang out with guys...I guess I just get along better with them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you hear this, run in the other direction.  I'm not kidding.  You should decode this seemingly harmless message as, "I am a total fucking bitch and I collect guys that fall in love with me like a 45-year old unmarried cashier at Wal-Mart collects action figures.  I have no interest in your well-being and I want to be your friend so I can say I have a girl friend and I can stop getting dressed alone on Friday nights before parties.  If you try to hook up with any one of the male specimens I keep on a leash at all times, I will immediately turn every last one of them against you.  Not only that, but I'll use you to figure out what parties you're going to and never invite you to anything I'm doing, although I will invite every guy I know.  So, lets be friends?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, and by the way, I consider myself way hotter than other girls, so I assume nobody wants to be friends with me because they're insanely jealous of how pretty I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, do not feel bad for this girl.  She has no girl friends because there have been many poor souls before you who have tried to put up with her, only to reach this exact same conclusion and delete her number out of their cell phone and refer to the period they befriended her as "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; phase."  Let me save you the time and make sure you never fall into her trap before you can get sucked in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say this because I have run into three girls like this in my life, and all three told the same, sorry story.  All three times I felt bad and invited them out, did my best to get on their good side, and just generally tried to be a good person and make a new friend.  All three time I got fucked over.  I'm just sayin'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8132854824330457990?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8132854824330457990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-person-in-life-whos-bad-news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8132854824330457990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8132854824330457990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-person-in-life-whos-bad-news.html' title='One person in life who&apos;s bad news.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TF8p5lZsKiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-jc_2yzGHFo/s72-c/pic.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8944693052560730807</id><published>2010-08-06T09:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T09:49:55.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Angelina Jolie's new movie sucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yes, I said it. I hated "Salt." Generally speaking, I really like salt, but this kind of tainted my opinion of the regular salt, and I kind of resent the fact that now, if I google the word "salt", Angelina Jolie's face pops up. As if she hasn't already saturated every facet of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this movie basically puts angelina in her typecast setting of femme fatale who kicks people's asses and even though she kind of looks like a skeleton running around with a head that's too big for her body, she overpowers men twice her size. Likely, Angie. Very likely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the basic premise of the movie is that some dude named Orlav gets captured by the C.I.A (..or something) and tells her that she's a Russian spy in front of all her C.I.A friends. what an asshole! So then she's all, "shit now i gotta bounce outta here" and now she's on the run. So the rest of the movie running around with different wigs on while the audience tries to figure out if she's really a russian spy or if she's actually trying to help America...because basically everyone's trying to kill both countries' presidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think part of the problem here is I don't really like action movies to begin with. I also think Jolie's extreme self-confidence in her acting abilities and sense of badass-ness makes her come off like a total bitch. Basically I'm saying she knows how hot she is and that's annoying. The guy I went with didn't think so, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the other thing that made this movie suck was that she does completely outlandish maneuvers that detract from the credibility of the movie. She jumps from a bridge onto a moving truck and lands on it perfectly, indicating Hollywood has never heard of a little thing called momentum. Basic physics usually says that you're going to keep heading in the direction you're heading if you're falling, so technically, Jolie should've just rolled right off the truck. She also jumps from one truck to another. I don't know if anyone has ever thrown something out of their car window, but it usually immeidately loses it's speed and stays far behind the car...something Jolie doesn't do in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, at one point she's in an elevator shaft and decides she's going to spiderman her way down the entire thing, which she does by literally leaping like a flying squirrel from ledge to ledge. I guess you have to see it, but as soon as you do, you automaticall will say, "no fucking way can that happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, she overpowers absolutely EVERYONE she comes in contact with. At one point, she's being held tightly by two secret service agents, and she almost effortlessly leaps out of their grasp to choke some other unfortunate dude. It's like everyone around here shares the same retardation so that jolie can easily mentally surpass them, so every time she's around these complete buffoons, she completely mind-ninjas them so, when the least expect it, she bolts in another direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if I had to rate this movie (and I don't, but I will), i'd give it 2 stars for sheer ludicrousness. This is basically Mr. and Mrs. Smith without Brad Pitt, and he was a major selling point. I'm also just really sick of seeing Jolie play the same stupid fucking role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I didn't like the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502339952954855970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TFw9CNlQUiI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RrPe6Oqmz4E/s400/angelina-jolie-salt-movie.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8944693052560730807?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8944693052560730807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/angelina-jolies-new-movie-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8944693052560730807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8944693052560730807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/08/angelina-jolies-new-movie-sucks.html' title='Angelina Jolie&apos;s new movie sucks'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TFw9CNlQUiI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RrPe6Oqmz4E/s72-c/angelina-jolie-salt-movie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2613325340140919273</id><published>2010-07-28T16:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T16:56:29.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, things are just awkward.</title><content type='html'>Unless I grew up calling an adult by their first name, I don't think I'm alone in thinking that I prefer to call most adults by their last name, (a.k.a Mrs. Brown). Yes, they may feel like old farts, but you know what? Most of them are. I get that you're trying to be nice being on a first-name basis with me, but I'm nowere close to your age and you're my superior, so just do me a favor and let me call you by a proper title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Dusty came home today. He looks better, but he's on all sorts of kitty painkillers so he's mostly wandering around in a daze. Sometimes he eats, sometimes he falls asleep while sitting up, and sometimes he growls at the wall. Yup, he's high as a kite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499109629361510994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TFDDEocF2lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/6AlSeRxrGqw/s400/untitled.bmp" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those yellow tubes are keeping his wounds from getting infected, or something along those lines. I get to hold him down while my mom squirts water in them to flush them out. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that he's home, mom thinks every move his makes deserves commentary and/or celebration. Every five minutes i get to hear things like "Dusty's eating! LOOK BECKY, DUSTY'S EATING!!!!!!!!!!" and, "DUSTY HAD A LITTLE POOPIE!" He also gets unlimited Fancy Feast, so maybe things aren't so bad for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, not much else happened today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2613325340140919273?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2613325340140919273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/sometimes-things-are-just-awkward.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2613325340140919273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2613325340140919273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/sometimes-things-are-just-awkward.html' title='Sometimes, things are just awkward.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TFDDEocF2lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/6AlSeRxrGqw/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-9087569281154503895</id><published>2010-07-26T12:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T12:40:26.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday I Met The Asshole</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, people stumble into your life who you think will be interesting and compelling people, and you really WANT to like them, but they just end up being total &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;douchebags&lt;/span&gt;. I met this person yesterday. He was, as I may deem, "The Typical Asshole."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The TA (Typical Asshole) came into my life as I stumbled my way out of my friend's apartment in my hungover stupor. Clutching a solo cup of tin-like tap water, I went to find my friend who I assumed would be on the deck smoking a cigarette. He was indeed, and half a set of steps down peering up at him was the TA. My friend gave me a relieved look, as though someone else would be able to keep this person occupied while my friend snuck out of the conversation and back into the house. I was in no mood to indulge this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;douchebag&lt;/span&gt;, so I was happy to oblige by perpetually picking fights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;amateur&lt;/span&gt; sketch of the TA in all his glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 355px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498298155539866738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TE3hCo4jpHI/AAAAAAAAAFk/IV5YVg8hJbY/s400/the+asshoel.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, this guy thought he was a Jim Morrison reincarnate and made it a point to prove how in-touch with nature and out-of-touch with evil technology he was. At one point, I answered my cell and he goes "Man, I wish I was more in touch with technology." To which I said, "I picked up my fucking cell phone. That's not exactly groundbreaking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, the cell phone &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;anomaly&lt;/span&gt; turned into this sort of conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; So, how do you remember all your phone numbers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TA:&lt;/strong&gt; I don't. I only carry my phone, like, once a week. It's my little sister's and has a picture of Johnny &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Depp&lt;/span&gt; as the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; That's gay. So, do you have a notebook for phone numbers or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TA:&lt;/strong&gt; No. If I need to, I'll write numbers in the margins of Kerouac novels or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Wow, how deep and pensive. Just kidding, it's gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the point of writing numbers in Kerouac novels? It's like this guy was desperate to insert the fact he reads Jack Kerouac somewhere into the conversation and this seemed the most appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inevitably, the conversation turned to weed. He used this time to interject how he used to smoke so much weed it eventually gave him a euphoric feeling, and he understands now why Jim Morrison wrote "Riders on the Storm." Not only did my friends and I not know the lyrics to understand what he meant by the ridiculous statement, but we didn't care, and he knew we didn't know or care as well.  It was like we all knew we were never going to be on the same page, yet he kept offering up these random tidbits like the two of us were eventually going to get wide-eyed in admiration and express how advanced he is for a youth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this point, my friend and I were bleeding from the ears and were about ready to start punching each other in the face to do the other the justice of being rendered unconscious so we wouldn't have to listen to this idiot talk anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sincerely hope this TA doesn't plague the apartments the entire year, which is where I'm living. I also hope this is a lesson to not try to prove how indie and deep you are at 10 a.m. after a long night of drinking. I'm not up to indulge you in such speak, so stick to things that we know...like when we want to go to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dunkin&lt;/span&gt;' Donuts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-9087569281154503895?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/9087569281154503895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/yesterday-i-met-asshole.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9087569281154503895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9087569281154503895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/yesterday-i-met-asshole.html' title='Yesterday I Met The Asshole'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TE3hCo4jpHI/AAAAAAAAAFk/IV5YVg8hJbY/s72-c/the+asshoel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1890840556332333978</id><published>2010-07-24T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T14:41:58.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dog is overweight.</title><content type='html'>My family has a long history of overfeeding its animals. It's not that we're bad pet-owners, in fact, it's the opposite. We're &lt;em&gt;too&lt;/em&gt; nice to our pets, so whenever they give us sad kitty or sad puppy eyes, we take this as an opportuinity to valiantly win their affection back. We do this by feeding them until they can only slosh around on the floor like amoebas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it's pretty damn cute when we had a cat double it's normal weight (Rest in peace, little Fluffy), an obese dog that thinks she is a cat is not as great. Particuarly during thunderstorms, when she absolutely flips out and climbs onto anyone close to her...and since i'm home and jobless all the time now, that person is usually me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9kPlTS-lqJQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9kPlTS-lqJQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my dog, i do, but she has a serious weight problem.  We thought at first maybe she was just husky and it was all fur, but then she got shaved and she is really just a fat dog.  She doesn't seem to mind though, so I guess I'll just go feed her now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1890840556332333978?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1890840556332333978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-dog-is-overweight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1890840556332333978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1890840556332333978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-dog-is-overweight.html' title='My dog is overweight.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-4233756618208603459</id><published>2010-07-23T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T18:38:55.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calorie-Free Powder is not suited for strenuous exercise</title><content type='html'>I'll be the first to admit that I enjoy a completely synthetically engineered glass of a sugary drink. Powdered lemonade, powdered fruit punch, powdered semi-orange-juice-like-but-not-really powder...all delicious. But i mostly use these powders to drink more water, because, really, forcing myself to drink water when I am not thirsty or eating is kind of hard for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To save a mere 30 cents or so, I bought the generic version of Crystal Light Fruit Punch Drink Mix, shown here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497264724791775410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TEo1JDV_0LI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jMnHDh2W9qM/s400/IMG_0460.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;mm..it's like my childhood condensed into a teeny packet of sugar-flavored methdust!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this stuff. It compels me to drink large quantities of it while unseemingly consuming large quanitites of water. Yes, I'm also consuming large quantities of aspartame and/or Splenda (i've never even looked to see what the artificial sweetener is), but that's irrelevent and beside the point. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, As i finally took the time to glance at something more on the box besides the name, I stumbled upon these interesting little tidbits the marketic execs at Great Value Headquarters decided to stick on there:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497264736302737442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TEo1JuObKCI/AAAAAAAAAFU/9bn_oAA24oA/s400/IMG_0461.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;divalign="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's nice of them, in case I was thoroughly confused about how I wanted to drink my faux fruit punch. But seriously, let's analyze their suggestions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1.) &lt;strong&gt;A picnic in the park. &lt;/strong&gt;I can totally swing with this. Good idea, marketing people! This fruity drink is refreshing and totally easy to dump into a pitcher of water for you and someone else who hasn't had real fruit punch since they were eleven. The other party would probably be happy to know of your health-conscious decision, assuming you let them know they're not actually drinking real fruit punch. If you don't, you're a real ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2.) &lt;strong&gt;Your kid's soccer game.&lt;/strong&gt; Okay, so picture this: your recreational soccer team, The Bumblebees, just had a hard loss against The Thunderbolts, and you're totally bummed. Actually, you really got your asses kicked...it was like 0-7 and the other team was just passing the ball around at one point, maybe even kicking it to you guys and then falling into fits of convulsions so somebody on your team could dribble down the field and find their way into the goal. Anyway, you guys lost badly. But wait! There's light at the end of this tunnel, and that's the treats the moms bring at the end of the games. Usually it's something like Gatorade and packets of Gushers, so you'll be replacing your deep-seeded depression over defeat with a sugar-high that'll have you hanging from the chandelier when you get home. Wait, what the fuck is this stuff? Mom, why are you dumping that disgusting red powder into that jug of water? Can't we all just have Powerade? Why are you handing this shit out in little dixie cups? Basically, as a mom, if you're that calorie-conscious that you impose your shitty drink that you've accepted as delicious because you're an adult onto not only your child, but his/her entire soccer team, you fail as a parent. Give them what they want, lady. Hawaiian punch. In separate cans. They've got a few years left to drink that crap before it goes straight to their asses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3.) &lt;strong&gt;An energetic hike up the mountains.&lt;/strong&gt; This one is a serious "WTF?" You spend an eight hour trek huffing and puffing up a significant incline with your significant other, and you decide to take a break for some food. I'm not a nutritionist or anything, but I've heard something along the lines that calories give you energy. So, honey, did you bring us anything nourishing? Well, no. I thought that after all this intense cardio-work we could have a nice pitcher of CALORIE FREE FLAVORED WATER!! Fuck sandwiches, fuck trail mix, we're going to lose 5 pounds today whether it kills us. We're not even going to drink refreshing, regular water. We're going to dump artificial sweeteners into it until sweet powder comes out of our eyes and bleeds from our toes. Now keep hiking, you fairy-boyfriend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I guess I thought a little too much about this, but the entire concept was so laughable I had to devote an entire post to it. Some things just leave an impression on you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-4233756618208603459?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/4233756618208603459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/calorie-free-powder-is-not-suited-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4233756618208603459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4233756618208603459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/calorie-free-powder-is-not-suited-for.html' title='Calorie-Free Powder is not suited for strenuous exercise'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TEo1JDV_0LI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jMnHDh2W9qM/s72-c/IMG_0460.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7352141242780429404</id><published>2010-07-21T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T12:40:12.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dusty's brush with death</title><content type='html'>My frantic mother came home last night telling me that our cat, Dusty, was MIA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If any of you have a normal family you might know that this, for cats, is not a big deal. Cats tend to mosey in a direction for 10 minutes before realizing they're lost and tend to just kind of find their way back. I told my mom to relax, and after 12 years of having two previous cats who were famous for wandering, I figured it wasn't a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to quell her fears, I trekked around the neighborhood, kitty treats in hand, calling for the cat while shaking the treat bin. It was like a distressed mexican fiesta...for felines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No luck. This tactic usually worked for my previous cats, so I started to get a little worried. However, one of those cats was obsessed with me, so he lived to respond to my every beck and call. (I'm not kidding. He used to throw himself at my bedroom door for hours until I let him in.) Regardless, I gave him the benefit of the kitty doubt and went inside to make dinner. My mom, meanwhile, was a total wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One think you need to understand about my mom is that she's a nurse, so she's incredibly caring and nurturing, which pretty much makes her the greatest mom in the entire world. However, she has chosen to make her cats honorary children, so she must nurture the shit out of them as well. Which, by the way, they totally love. Dusty waits patiently outside her bedroom door every morning in hopes she'll emerge sometime soon. He doesn't have too many things to fill out his day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my mom's instincts told her that Dusty was somewhere in the house, while my dad was galumphing around declaring the cat "Coyote Food," which wasn't helping things. My mother set out ripping her hair out while simultaneously scouring every nook and cranny for her baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo and behold, Dusty had curled up under a couch in the basement, and he was NOT a happy camper. He looked something like this:'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496444999902628882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TEdLmyKrDBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/K8iRqEXq8Dg/s400/dust.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Dusty was found completely disoriented and sitting in his own piss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom dragged him out of his self-declared grave and immediately took him to the emergency vet, where they found bite marks on his stomach and back, indicating some extremely large and extremely hungry creature which much larger teeth attempted to eat Dusty during the night. I imagine this is a traumatizing experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully my cat has not completely lost his mental stability and is able to much a full physical and emotional recovery, and we definitely will be sealing the kitty door up for good. Mittens, our other cat, may disapprove, but I'd rather have him cry and whine in the house (which he CAN and WILL do) for three years while staring longingly at the front door he cannot open with his little kitty paws than find his kitty skeleton in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little kitty. At least he's ok!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7352141242780429404?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7352141242780429404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/dustys-brush-with-death.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7352141242780429404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7352141242780429404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/dustys-brush-with-death.html' title='Dusty&apos;s brush with death'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/TEdLmyKrDBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/K8iRqEXq8Dg/s72-c/dust.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8540261513444979612</id><published>2010-07-20T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T19:13:59.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My short lived burrito-rolling career</title><content type='html'>It's been about two months and I've called it quits with the burrito rolling business.  Yes, my friends, I am out.  This chaotically run Chipotle that has disgraced the coveted number one title of being the first in Connecticut needs to be shut down, bulldozed, and reopened as something better. Qdoba, perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now with my newfound free time, I had more fun this weekend than I have the past 2 or so months combined.  I missed going out, even just drinking, and I'm glad i have my life back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now i'm ready to move back into UConn.  I'm sitting here watching &lt;em&gt;America's Got Talent&lt;/em&gt; with my mom, and this show sucks.  It's not only incredibly boring, but nobody on the show actually has...well, talent.  That makes for a poor premise and even poorer result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thusly, I have poured my passions into writing for the Journal Inquirer...or at least, whatever passion i have left for doing work when I'd rather be outside.  And recently, I've been writing an article about peaches and all the fabulous things to do with them.  What i've learned: peaches are definitely just peaches, and there's nothing more to do with them than you probably originally thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, this is a lame post and I'm sorry, but without a camera in-hand 24/7 (I feel awkward photographing every detail of my life), pictures might be rare.  Maybe I'll start drawing..maybe I won't, since I have no talent whatsoever in that area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au Revior!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8540261513444979612?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8540261513444979612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-short-lived-burrito-rolling-career.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8540261513444979612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8540261513444979612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-short-lived-burrito-rolling-career.html' title='My short lived burrito-rolling career'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2794408557472119937</id><published>2010-05-17T17:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T17:20:03.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Working and Interning</title><content type='html'>It has been a BUSY past few days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Training for my new job at Chipotle began last Saturday, and it's already shaping up to be my favorite job. I LOVE the people there, and while I may not be making as much money as I was at Friendly's, I'm so much happier. Our training basically consisted of us rolling burritos for HOURS, but somehow it was fun, the managers are SO nice (I actually consider myself friends with one of them, something I'd never thought I'd say), and the atmosphere is just basically great. I'm so much happier now, I actually enjoy going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job is an incredibly diverse group of people, but they're all great. One of my favorite people there is Queen, a late thirty (maybe early forty)-something-year-old woman who calls her bosom her "treasure trove." She doesn't carry a purse, but instead keeps all her money and belongings in her bra with the warning to potential pickpockets that they can "reach on in there if they really wanna."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate the training Friendly's gave me. Some of the people who have never worked in a restaurant before were amazed at how much cleaning we did, but I more than expected it. A manager actually told me I was doing a great job, and it was so nice just to be reinforced. I never got that kind of positive encouragement at Friendly's and I worked just as hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, my internship at the &lt;em&gt;Journal Inquirer&lt;/em&gt; also started today. Which was...interesting. My first assignment was to give a preview of the Enfield Memorial Day Parade, and about 20 minutes after my interview with the organizor and the mayor, I deleted all my notes. Awesome. My boss told me that it happens to everyone, but I still couldn't believe I made such a grievous mistake so early. I have to call everyone back tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make up for it I got some great interviews for my next story, which was covering a Bluegrass Concert meant to raise donations for the Safe Net Commission, a non-profit that accepts food donations for the hungry in the Stafford Springs area. Talking to the reverend who organized the whole thing was so inspiring. It made me realize that some people are just altruistic to be good people. He completely did not have to do this, but he took it upon himself to bring the idea to his own area (which, by the way, he was completely new to) and he was so nice about answering all my questions. Then, the lady at Safe Net i spoke to insisted that all the credit be given to him and her name not even be mentioned! It was so heartwarming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is going to be even busier, because I have my internship and then I go straight to work.  Busy, Busy!  I like it though, i'm so bored at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a super night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2794408557472119937?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2794408557472119937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/05/working-and-interning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2794408557472119937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2794408557472119937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/05/working-and-interning.html' title='Working and Interning'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8982420058524623946</id><published>2010-05-05T19:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T19:19:22.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye, UConn</title><content type='html'>Well, my last exam is tomorrow and then it's goodbye to UConn.  Every time summer rolls around I get a little sad.  I LOVE school to death, and summer just isn't the same.  I don't have that friends at home that some other people have because I didn't go to public school, so summer to me equals working, interning, and hanging out with parents a lot.  I go out, but I just miss school so much when I'm there and it's not the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weekends ago was the infamous spring weekend here, and this picture pretty  much sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467974145520182354" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S-Ilg8jAJFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/6O2J4bAgImw/s400/25579_416240421494_692356494_5258273_4111984_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, a little messy.  But amazingly fun.  Saturday I had to wake up and play Oozeball, which is basically a weird form of volleyball in the mud.  Seriously, your feet are submereg about 8 inches in a goopy muddy mess.  My friends went balls-out for it, so I barely touched the ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467974136882648210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S-IlgcXp1JI/AAAAAAAAAE0/a0Ipm9xxuqo/s400/25836_1281947568410_1221690191_30743166_2354764_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I realized my team was in the paper.  This picture also pretty much sums up how it went down.  I stood on the side and looked bored, while the guys went nuts.  I still had a great time, but hey, it was spring weekend and I was ready to continue with the festivities, not sit around in the mud all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467974130990445170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S-IlgGa18nI/AAAAAAAAAEs/fk5yG-kJhOo/s400/25171_1386975069450_1084230056_31053277_6485732_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year was such a series of ups and downs.  I broke up with my boyfriend, experienced the wonderfulness of being single, got seriously into running, and am learning to accept who I am.  Yeah, my grades weren't stellar this semester, but classes were hard and I had so much fun.  I definitely would not take back any of this year  because I met so many new people and made so many amazing friends.  Living in an apartment next year is going to be amazing, but I'll miss this dorm a lot.  I'm making myself sad just thinking about leaving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8982420058524623946?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8982420058524623946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/05/bye-bye-uconn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8982420058524623946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8982420058524623946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/05/bye-bye-uconn.html' title='Bye Bye, UConn'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S-Ilg8jAJFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/6O2J4bAgImw/s72-c/25579_416240421494_692356494_5258273_4111984_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3202547270731240167</id><published>2010-04-25T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T08:31:51.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>seeing me</title><content type='html'>I have this pair of jeans.  They are a size 24 Anoname faded and distressed denim.  I bought them when I was 98 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I will be the first to admit that now, several--to put it milldly--pounds heavier, these jeans do not fit anymore.  If I suck in with all my might and don't mind that my newer and curvier body doesn't want to be in these teeny, tiny jeans, then I can wear them.  I don't mind anymore that they don't fit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I think what scares me is knowing my new size.  I have yet to buy any jeans, although I did buy a pair of hollister shorts that actually fit.  That aren't tight and a product of me being unwilling to accept who i am now.  They fit, and that's good.  But the process of searching for jeans, knowing that size has crept up, overwhelms me.  it makes me sad, it makes me angry, it makes me wish I was back at 98 pounds.  Everything fit, I didn't scrutinize myself endlessly in the mirror, my now-huge chest was deflated to a manaegeable size that was proportionate to my teeny, tiny body.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Seeing myself in pictures, in the mirror, in windows, I want to cry and I want to laugh and I want to accept that I am a new, healthy, happy me.  I run 9 miles without a problem.  I still overexercise.  I stuff my face at times, and the rest of the times I consciously stop eating when I'm full.  I haven't binged the way I used to in months, although I drunk eat and high-eat, and I'm acting like I've always wanted to be, and I'm caught between being happy to be happy and being happy because I'm the smallest person in the room.  I drank like a sailor this spring weekend because I wanted to, and I didn't nurse my drink because I was scared of the calories.  I acted like a college student, and that is a good thing.  I can't have it both ways, I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That is what I have to say.  It feels good to externalize it for once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3202547270731240167?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3202547270731240167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/04/seeing-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3202547270731240167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3202547270731240167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/04/seeing-me.html' title='seeing me'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-4191632844030843945</id><published>2010-04-04T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T15:23:37.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mmmmm, spring.</title><content type='html'>Sorry it's been awhile, the last few weeks have been...hell, to put it mildly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had three exams last week, falling on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.  Basically, I had been studying since last Tuesday about (yeah, I get going early when it comes to studying) and my life had ceased to exist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter study aide.  As a blog that shares my experiences, I feel compelled to tell about my life in the most undiluted fashion possible, so I'm not going to filter myself.  To study last week I tried Adderall.  I took half a capsule one day at about 10:30 in the morning, and it DEFINITELY got me going...for a while.  I ended up losing all motivation before I even wanted to study, so I decided the next day I'd take a little later.  Big, big, HEINOUSLY HUGE mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed up until 7 in the morning.  Laying in bed.  Staring up at the bed above me.  It was horrible.  Strangely, however, after only about two hours of sleep I wasn't actually very tired, which worried me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings us to Thursday.  The week was already shitty; it was rainy and miserable, and I had been studying straight through it all.   Nothing was good about the week.  However, on Thursday it was like God put a halt on everything terrible and the clouds parted and it was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l.  After peeing my pants during class because I wanted to get out so badly, I literally booked it back to my dorm and into my running clothes.  Not only was it freaking gorgeous out, but I hadn't run in about two weeks.  I had only been going to the gym and using the Squirrelliptical (as Kath from &lt;a href="http://www.katheats.com/"&gt;http://www.katheats.com&lt;/a&gt; likes to call it).  I was doing intervals of 2 minute rest and 1 minute intensity and was really liking it, so I stuck to it.  By Thursday however, I was ready to run again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And man, I ran.  I covered ten glorious miles and loved (pretty much) every second of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I ran another 4.5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was the TKE 5K for Autism Speaks.  I had no intentions to run this, but I was up so I decided to head over.  Everyone knows I run a lot nowadays, and so I was thinking I'd be pretty embarrassed if I ended up doing terrible on the run.  However, to my surprise I ran it in 23:48 and took 4th for the girls!  I actually thought I got 3rd place, but a sneaky little runner girl was way ahead of the two girls I saw in front of me, so i just missed the prizes.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I just got back from another  8.25 miles and nobody is on campus because it's Easter Weekend.  I didn't go home.  Last time I went home I ended up just being super bored and fighting with my Dad a lot, so I decided to not go through the hassle.  It's better this way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Easter Everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-4191632844030843945?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/4191632844030843945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/04/mmmmm-spring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4191632844030843945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4191632844030843945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/04/mmmmm-spring.html' title='mmmmm, spring.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8148756627931652449</id><published>2010-03-16T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T14:36:09.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SUN!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I had to sit through 3 hour and fifteen minute classes today before I could get outside. It was not easy. The entire time I was literally itching in my seat and by the end of my last class I was so antsy I think my professor let us go just because she saw me squirming. I guess I'm immature when it comes to nice weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran back to my dorm after class and got dressed and was out the door runnig 15 minutes later and it was stupendous.  I cranked out just under 8 miles with an average of 9:10 splits, which considering how much less i've been running, is amazing for me.  The new weather has inspired me to start running more...I couldn't take any more of these dreary runs.   PLUS, I don't have to haul my ass out of my warm bed anymore at 8 in the morning (shhh...that's early for me) because we pushed the clocks ahead and now it stays light out past six! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, over break we bought furniture for the apartment I'm living in next year.  I'm really excited because my mother let me get a full sized bed and that's glorious.  I also might be scheduling all of my classes on tuesdays and thursdays so I only have to drive to campus twice a week.  Oh, the possibilities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all is coming down to advising appointments though, which my professors definitely don't go out of their ways to schedule.  One told me i need to go through her secretary (seriously?), but that's pretty good compared to my other one who has yet to respond to me at all.  I need to come up with a plan of study, and I feel like juggling an idea between two different advisors is going to be a bit of a challenge.  Or maybe they don't care at all, which is more likely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, this weather has put me in a GREAT mood and tomorrow is st. patrick's day which is even better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I think I might go roll arond in the grass, bye bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8148756627931652449?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8148756627931652449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/sun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8148756627931652449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8148756627931652449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/sun.html' title='SUN!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1101233693346348929</id><published>2010-03-12T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T16:15:07.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>break should be shorter</title><content type='html'>I feel like I missed out this break.  A friend of mine grabbed a group of friends to go to NYC for two days and she forgot to call me because it was "last minute."  Not the greatest friend in my opinion, but oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some friends also invited me to FL to build houses and such for the week, but I turned it down because it was $200 and I thought I would have too much work to go.  I DID have a lot of work, so it might've been better I didn't go, but the new york thing kind of upset me.  I shouldn't have expected anything really different from this person and maybe it wasn't entirely her fault, but another friend was asking me why i didn't go and nobody ever even informed me a trip was in the works.  I guess I just kind of felt left out. I'm sure nobody meant anything by it, but still...kind of sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm ready to get back to school.  Home is super boring, nobody else is around except for one friend, and hanging out with my parent's is driving me to my breaking point.  Also, when I'm home all I do is brew thoughts in my head about Casey and I don't want to be stuck in the mindset.  If i get back to school, it'll take my mind off things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also just really hungry and waiting for my mom to get home with Chinese food.  That's probably making me cranky.  I'm just really, really sick of break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1101233693346348929?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1101233693346348929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/break-should-be-shorter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1101233693346348929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1101233693346348929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/break-should-be-shorter.html' title='break should be shorter'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7623366738666728033</id><published>2010-03-10T14:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:25:56.546-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='casey'/><title type='text'>sad, sad news.</title><content type='html'>One of my best friends from high school, Casey, passed away today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even begin to describe the amazing person Casey was.  She was funny, kind, always knew how to make you laugh, and probably one of the most talented people I ever knew.  She was an amazing filmmaker and she was even voted "Most Likely To Be Famous" in our graduating class at Miss Porter's.  I always joked with her that she had to let me be her "manager" when she was famous since I probably wouldn't have a job and she'd be filthy rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gZDlLM9PI/AAAAAAAAAEM/kPKwSsp5hkc/s1600-h/case.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gZDlLM9PI/AAAAAAAAAEM/kPKwSsp5hkc/s400/case.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447131298614015218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey was diagnosed with cancer our junior year, and she was out of school most of our senior year.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gat5v8-1I/AAAAAAAAAEk/v4c1groP7jA/s1600-h/case2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gat5v8-1I/AAAAAAAAAEk/v4c1groP7jA/s400/case2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447133125203000146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Casey with one of our teachers in the hospital while getting Chemotherapy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, when I heard the news, I almost didn't even think twice about it.  I just kind of assumed she would be fine because she was the Casey I always knew and loved.  She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was &lt;/span&gt;fine, too.  She would joke about how the steroids would make her want to eat steak for breakfast, and we tried to contact Andrew McMahon a few times using her cancer as the connecting factor in their lives.  She also asked for a jet plane from the "Make a Wish Foundation" (she settled on a hot tub).  That's the kind of person she was, laughing and joking throughout the whole thing.  She never once showed how much she was hurting or suffering.   She even ended up making it to prom that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gZEBXueUI/AAAAAAAAAEc/dqcWWLaPwMw/s1600-h/case3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gZEBXueUI/AAAAAAAAAEc/dqcWWLaPwMw/s400/case3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447131306182736194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Casey and I at prom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the call early today.  Apparently some tumors had resurfaced, and she needed a bone marrow transplant.  Her doctors were shutting down her immune system so she wouldn't reject the marrow, and she caught an infection.  Her body just couldn't fight it off.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The whole thing has been so shocking and sad.  Casey deserved so much better than to be fighting this horrible disease for so many years, and she had such a future.  She lived so big, and I can't even imagine all the things she was going to do and the great person she was going to be.  She had the rare gift to be able to reach a lot of people and make her voice heard, and for the world to lose her is a tragedy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want people to know the great person Casey was.  I could review in my head all the ways I could've been a better friend to her these last few months (we hadn't spoken as much when we were both at separate colleges), but I realized I want to remember her for all the fun we had.  She kept me sane at all-girls school, and I could never repay her.  I know she would not want me to be so upset (she'd probably have a joke about this right about now), but it's hard knowing that somebody so amazing is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, Casey.  I will never, ever forget you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7623366738666728033?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7623366738666728033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/sad-sad-news.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7623366738666728033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7623366738666728033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/sad-sad-news.html' title='sad, sad news.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S5gZDlLM9PI/AAAAAAAAAEM/kPKwSsp5hkc/s72-c/case.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-9131554697937671183</id><published>2010-03-09T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T08:44:35.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The magazine's up!</title><content type='html'>The magazine is up and running!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://greencandypawsmag.com/"&gt;http://greencandypawsmag.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the blog here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://greencandypaws.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://greencandypaws.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow it on Twitter here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/GCPmegazine"&gt;http://twitter.com/GCPmegazine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check out page 20 for an adorable little picture of my cat, Dusty, as well :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-9131554697937671183?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/9131554697937671183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/magazines-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9131554697937671183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9131554697937671183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/03/magazines-up.html' title='The magazine&apos;s up!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1226229427164020879</id><published>2010-02-26T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T11:24:37.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the joys of a major diet change</title><content type='html'>So literally the second I started this new food switch my body purged itself of...everything.  I knew this would happen because every time I go vegan the lack of shit in my body makes my system go nuts.  It might be a product of me feeling a little under the weather as well, but either way, it was a serious cleanse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still am cheating slightly on the veganism (i put skim milk in my cereal since soymilk has been making my throat itch horribly) and i caved and ate a mini snickers.  I blame hormones.  Either way, if I keep eating cereal i might have to stick to skim milk with it.  I don't want to keep having an allergic reaction every time I eat, and its not worth it when I can just put skim milk in it.  I've been experimenting with rice milk, but lately my dining hall has only had chocolate rice milk, which is not really a prime ingredient for cereal.  Besides those two things, I've been doing good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being far from Whitney (the vegan dining hall) makes this diet infinitely more difficult.  Whitney makes meals that are awesome for vegans: bourbon tofu, tempeh and broccoli stir fry, bao balls, they cater so well to those wanting to follow the lifestyle.  The other dining halls...not so much.  I find myself making hummus sandwiches and eating TONS of boca burgers when i'm stuck at any other dining hall on campus.  They usually have some sort of vegan option, but it's usually something like white rice and beans or pasta primavera.  Just following vegan guidelines isn't good enough for me.  i want to choose whole grains and filling foods, and neither of those fit that category in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the hassle, I love being vegan.  Once i figured out good protein sources, I could tell my body liked it.  It opened my eyes to eating pure and whole foods, and to not automatically reach for cookies because they taste good.  When I go vegan, my body adapts itself to a diet with less sugar and salt, and it's like bringing myself back to where I want to be nutritionally.  I can let myself get really out of whack sometimes, and I definitely did this semester.  I was eating ice cream twice a day, and sometimes just wandering around the dining hall picking at baked goods and fried food thinking that it didn't make a difference.  i'm ready to get past all of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1226229427164020879?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1226229427164020879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/joys-of-major-diet-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1226229427164020879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1226229427164020879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/joys-of-major-diet-change.html' title='the joys of a major diet change'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3576533297968814290</id><published>2010-02-25T12:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T12:55:01.597-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='veganism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vegan'/><title type='text'>Back to my old ways</title><content type='html'>I'm going to go back to veganism for awhile.  It was something a dabbled with freshman year when I lived super-close to the vegan dining hall on campus (something I still wish was part of my life), but I gave it up when I was consciously trying to put on weight and I rediscovered my love of ice cream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I've been eating like total shit lately.  Ice cream, cookies, just WAY too much crap food that is not good in any way.  I'm not saying that eating this stuff is bad.  I just have been overloading on it and the damage has taken its toll.  Eating vegan reminds me what whole, nutritious food is like...something i need to be brought back to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I started out today but then caved and bought a yogurt.  There was nothing nutritious where I was, so yeah, bad start.  BUT the point is to ease myself into it and to recognize when I'm reaching for something that is yucky and devoid of nutrients.  I know how to make good choices, I just need to put the concept into practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, veganism generally is not hard for me because I've never liked meat, but I'm slightly allergic to soymilk (my stomach gets very queasy when i drink too much of it and my throat will tighten), so that might be a little tough to get around.  I'm going to try to water it down.  That said, some things will definitely be hard for me to give up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To name a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. ICE CREAM.  i have a huge love affair with ice cream.  Especially on campus, they have so many flavors that I literally lose my mind sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. chocolate.  I hate dark chocolate, and milk chocolate is just so, so yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. cookies.  The milk and eggs unfortunately make this not vegan, and that totally sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to preface this with I am not overly conscious about this.  I don't avoid certain ingredients like that plague because they are a byproduct of a chemical once found in an animal that lived on Pangaea. Basically, i don't read ingredients in-depth.  Also, if I'm ever at a super nice restaurant where eating vegan just isn't an option, I will abandon it.  I don't ever want to have to be &lt;em&gt;accommodated--&lt;/em&gt;although people are generally super nice about that--so I just will suck it up when I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck on my endeavors :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3576533297968814290?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3576533297968814290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-to-my-old-ways.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3576533297968814290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3576533297968814290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-to-my-old-ways.html' title='Back to my old ways'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7296328999877366722</id><published>2010-02-20T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T17:01:59.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Dear</title><content type='html'>this little piggy drank a little too much last night.  I woke up dizzy, nauseous, and about ready to pass out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up to go to the bathroom and when i got there I got this overwhelming sense that I was going to faint.  I was brushing my teeth and literally supporting myself entirely on the counter, wondering how I was going to make it back to my room.  I sat down on the potty to regroup and then worked my way back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stomach was so upset but I knew I needed to eat something, and strangely I was having cravings for really heavy, salty food.  So i ate pizza and baked ziti and felt a hundred times better.  Weird, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight i'm taking it super-easy.  super, duper easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7296328999877366722?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7296328999877366722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-dear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7296328999877366722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7296328999877366722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-dear.html' title='Oh Dear'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-9098372347597777929</id><published>2010-02-19T16:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T16:11:30.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God</title><content type='html'>...It's FRIDAY!  After a long week of tests and quizzes, I could not be happier that its the weekend.  I ended this awesome week on a great note, which was most likely failing the hardest quiz I've ever taken in my entire life.  Some of the question I truly felt like I was reading hieroglyphics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was pretty fun, however.  A friend from the fraternity ZBT invited me to play beer pong with him in a boy-girl tournament.  We made it through the preliminary round-robin to win our division, but lost in the first round of the tournament :(  I still had fun though and I was glad I went.  I never do anything like that and I love meeting new people, which I definitely did last night!  I also knocked a beer bottle onto two people sitting on the couch which was stellar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on a  sadder note, UCONN is raising its tuition over 5 percent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http//www.dailycampus.com/news/bot-increases-tuition-by-5-7-percent-1.1165779"&gt;http://www.dailycampus.com/news/bot-increases-tuition-by-5-7-percent-1.1165779&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is very saddening.  People already can't afford school, and the school can't afford to keep running.  I feel like everyone is backed into a corner and nobody can pay their way out of this mess.  The federal reserve today announced they are going to start raising bank interest rates on loans so money isn't coming out of every direction that doesn't even exist, but I can't stand to read more people losing their jobs anymore.  I look around me and see so many kids who parents are out of work struggling to keep their daughter or son in college and you just have no idea who's suffering and who's not.  I'm so lucky to have parents who both are still working, and even though we've been affected there's so many worse situations out there, it hurts my heart.  I want everything to go back to normal but this bad economy is so global, even entire COUNTRIES are affected.  Germany has to bail out Greece.  That's one ENTIRE country bailing out another.  It's just a horrible, horrible situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I get to down on myself thinking about how shitty the state of things are, I am going to sign off and remind myself its the WEEKEND and that is a very good thing, and even if you are living weekend to weekend and only get excited for two measly days out of seven, that's better than nuthin'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a super, duper Friday Night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-9098372347597777929?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/9098372347597777929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/thank-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9098372347597777929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/9098372347597777929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/thank-god.html' title='Thank God'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-6153589385500469030</id><published>2010-02-17T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T14:01:06.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance Dance Revolution</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439332971176194002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S3xkhLoG79I/AAAAAAAAAD8/I0pZr_TnRf0/s400/girltalk.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last weekend I went to a Girltalk concert and oh. my. god. what an amazing experience that was.  You haven't discovered dehydration until you're dancing for 2 hours to this man mashing up songs.  He played everything from Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" to Ke$sha's "Tik Tok" to every rap song imaginable.  It was such a high-intensity concert and Girltalk (who's real name is greg but seriously, i'm calling him Girltalk) was so high energy.  He jumped up and down the entire time and didn't rest once.  You go, Girltalk.  You go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of the concert was WE WERE ON STAGE!  My friend was dressed so ridiculous (a lot of people were...I didn't get the memo) that one of the people running the show asked him if he wanted to dance next to Girltalk when the show started.  My friend then asked if he could bring his friends onstage, too.  The people were hesitant, but by that time we had all stuck out our arms for wristbands so the woman handing them out really couldn't say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we had gotten some photos, but unfortunately my friend only managed to track down this incredibly random one that is not only out-of-focus, but at an (artistic?) Dutch Angle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439332976067030386" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S3xkhd2LLXI/AAAAAAAAAEE/f7Veel8nl2E/s400/18665_1283287317293_1083390084_30760921_6840414_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm on the far right in the blue plaid and black leggings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the show I was literally dripping....DRIPPING, DRENCHED, SOAKED in sweat.  my shirt was completely saturated with it.  I was so thirsty I started picking up water bottles off of the ground and drinking them.  Yes, gross, but it was either die of thirst or drink questionable water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, good news!  My eco-column "The Green Scene" for the university newspaper, The Daily Campus, is off to a good start!  You can read the articles I have written here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-green-scene-explore-foods-try-new-protein-sources-1.1159621"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-green-scene-explore-foods-try-new-protein-sources-1.1159621"&gt;http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-green-scene-explore-foods-try-new-protein-sources-1.1159621&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/drink-less-beer-save-more-trees-1.1120843"&gt;http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/drink-less-beer-save-more-trees-1.1120843&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-dark-truth-behind-the-kindle-1.1109918"&gt;http://www.dailycampus.com/focus/the-dark-truth-behind-the-kindle-1.1109918&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you like!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-6153589385500469030?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/6153589385500469030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/dance-dance-revolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6153589385500469030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6153589385500469030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/02/dance-dance-revolution.html' title='Dance Dance Revolution'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S3xkhLoG79I/AAAAAAAAAD8/I0pZr_TnRf0/s72-c/girltalk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-8910046549060286462</id><published>2010-01-25T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T14:02:23.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainiest. Birthday. EVER.</title><content type='html'>I woke up this birthday morning to the pictured beautiful view out of my window:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430796466323333314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S14QnM6mIMI/AAAAAAAAAD0/AYixafL97qw/s400/IMG_0321%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;niiiiiiiice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyhoo, at about 8:45 I woke up naturally so I decided, with class at noon, I'd go get my workout over with. I put on my shorts and decided I'd hustle my ass over there without any sweats on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Big Mistake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As soon as I got to the gym, I realized that somewhere on my journey over there I dropped my key and my ID card (which are attached to each other). As I searched frantically through my bag the girl at the front of the gym went off about how I can use a non-refundable deposit to pay for it or something...little did she know getting into the gym was my last concern at the moment. If you lose your dorm key, they have to replace the lock on your door which costs $100. Yeah, it was time to panic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I immediately retraced my steps like a maniac, scouring the wet and muddy ground for any glimmer of my key. No luck. I roamed my dorm and every place I covered that morning (which was pretty much the bathroom and back), and then sat on the floor and cried. I don't know why I decided crying was the best option in that situation, and looking back I completely overreacting. At the time, however, I was stuck in shorts and a t-shirt, wet, cold, and just overall not ready to deal with such a catastrophe at so early in the morning. I felt so defeated and not even a birthday was going to redeem the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I called "The Front Desk" (the vague descriptor of the people who will unlock your door if you happen to be so unfortunate as to lock yourself out) and I waited patiently outside of my room for about 40 minutes until someone finally came to let me in. At around 9:30, I realized that I shouldn't just mope around in my room hoping my key will fall from the sky, so I went back to the gym to relieve some of the adrenaline from my veins and recuperate from the trauma I was suffering.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I also kept my phone diligently by my hand in case I got in e-mail to my blackberry about it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;LO AND BEHOLD, about twenty minutes later I receive an e-mail saying someone picked up my keycard and it was nearby! I raced over there to retrieve it, and I can happily say that i am now blogging in the comfort of my dorm, sitting pretty because it's my birthday and I'm not locked out of my own residence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I went to the dining hall immediately after I got my keycard back only to have someone hand it to me for a second time. I dropped it in the lunchline. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My keycard is currently attached to my belt loop...and it will be for the rest of the week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-8910046549060286462?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/8910046549060286462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/rainiest-birthday-ever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8910046549060286462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/8910046549060286462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/rainiest-birthday-ever.html' title='Rainiest. Birthday. EVER.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S14QnM6mIMI/AAAAAAAAAD0/AYixafL97qw/s72-c/IMG_0321%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2451614700017448045</id><published>2010-01-24T12:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T12:23:19.618-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>A Themed Weekend</title><content type='html'>This was a weekend of themed parties, I guess people went a little crazy with the first real weekend back.  The first night was a "hoedown throwdown" that I dressed up for an ended up never making it to.  I went to pregame with a few friends and by the time we got to the party, there was a line out the door to get it.  We decided it wasn't worth it and went to an apartment instead, which ended up being a great time so everything worked out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 330px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430401442899762418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1ypVz_PHPI/AAAAAAAAADk/qcJHw3fGmkI/s400/17064_1258803265217_1083690133_30697651_4079387_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I went out for an 8.47 mile run.  It was a great run and I went outside my normal route to run near this lake that I found back in the summer.  I took a whole video of it that I was going to post, but as I watched it I realized that my camera work was a little too shaky and the entire content was a little too boring, so I opted out of posting it.  I basically ran and talked about nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night was a "Jersey Shore"-themed party at ZBT (Zeta Beta Tau), a fraternity a friend of mine is close with.  We poofed our hair, put on our highest stilettos, and picked up some quick New York Accents.  The words "jerk off" snuck into my vocabulary a few times above average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430401449196973730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1ypWLcm7qI/AAAAAAAAADs/_A1T1OaOr6E/s400/IMG_0317.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Kate and I eventually got onto the Pong table, and we housed these two brothers.  It was SO much fun because we went two out of three and got them when we both made the last cup in one turn.  I love when we beat guys because nobody expects  a team of girls to be decent, but Kate and I are a diesel team.  Last year's devotion to TKE parties and my ex-boyfriend as my permanent partner last year taught me a few things about how to play.  I'm still not daring enough to do death cups and anything too crazy, but I'll throw in the occasional bounce to prove that I don't completely suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drama went down when we left ZBT and went to a friend's house who was having a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a BIG party and a ton of TKE guys were there.  I used to be great friends with all these people when I was still with my ex-boyfriend, and unsurprisingly, he was there too.  However, my good friends, including one I've been having a minor fling with, were DJing this party.   In my drunken stupor, I was a little overly flirtatious with this boy and it definitely pissed of The Ex.  He asked me if that was me and I adamantly denied it, so hopefully he believed me because I truly don't want to ruffle any feathers and was just trying to have a good time.  However, it was nice to see all of the guys I used to spend 90% of my time with.  Breaking up with the ex was hard because I had become part of his circle of friends in his fraternity, and I knew my friend network was really going to change when he wasn't in my life anymore.  And it did.  I missed all those guys so much, not to say that I'm not completely happy with the friends I have now.  Everything worked out in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pooped this weekend, so I just plan to kind of kick back and watch the Jets game at 4 and call it a day.  Have a great rest of the weekend everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2451614700017448045?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2451614700017448045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/themed-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2451614700017448045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2451614700017448045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/themed-weekend.html' title='A Themed Weekend'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1ypVz_PHPI/AAAAAAAAADk/qcJHw3fGmkI/s72-c/17064_1258803265217_1083690133_30697651_4079387_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1162828399436972019</id><published>2010-01-21T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T14:38:29.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running to Run</title><content type='html'>After classes and a long internal debate, I decided I would go out for a run again today.  I have been limiting running two days in a row because of my knee, but the icing and stretching has been helping a lot so I figured I'd give it a go (it held out just fine because I'm sure you're concerned). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I downloaded an episode of Comedy Death Ray to listen to for the trek, but I realized it was only 47 or so minutes long.  Normally, when shows I listen to are short I'll turn on music for the remainder, but as I stepped outside I had a huge epiphany.  I had never run once without an iPod. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought for a minute about how I never do just one thing at a time.  I run while I listen to music, I read the paper while I eat, I fart around endlessly on my phone while I'm in class.  When the hell was the last time I just payed attention to what I was supposed to be doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started running and made the executive decision that I would not listen to anything...but I brought my iPod along just in case (come on, you never know).  If I love to run so much, then why am I trying to distract myself from it by listening to music to take my mind off it?  Running in itself is an escape, so it seemed so circular to try and distract myself from what I consider a daily distraction from the rest of my life.  I was doing myself a huge disservice by not running just to &lt;em&gt;run&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off I went.  I heard myself breathe, I felt myself run, I took a good look at the route I've traveled so many times without really &lt;em&gt;looking&lt;/em&gt; at where I was going.  I smelled the remnants of this amazingly warm day as the sun set, breathing in the scent of woods and trees and smokey air. There's THREE ponds on this route...I've never noticed any of them but one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I missed out a little bit on all of those other runs, and I was a little disappointed in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is I'm not going to distract myself from what I should be doing anymore (minus my Sensation and Perception Processes Class...sorry professor).  I shouldn't feel the need to be constantly entertained, and I'm missing out on everything by neglecting the world around me.  Not just when it comes to exercise, but in so many other facets of my life.  It was a nice little lesson I taught myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely am not going to give up my iPod on runs for good because I love me some NPR and Comedy Death Ray as I plow through my exercise, but I &lt;em&gt;did &lt;/em&gt;come to the conclusion that I really do just love the act of running.  I shouldn't be scared of getting bored of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1162828399436972019?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1162828399436972019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/running-to-run.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1162828399436972019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1162828399436972019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/running-to-run.html' title='Running to Run'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3244992138719438825</id><published>2010-01-20T22:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T14:03:17.291-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP Billy</title><content type='html'>Today was a somber day indeed. This morning I was informed that my friends' snake, Billy Mayes, died during the night. Billy was a beloved pet and it was only right of us to give a proper buriel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429071959220932898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1fwLrVl0SI/AAAAAAAAADc/jxISEnqHjSw/s400/IMG_0311%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One friend wrote a eulogy during class and presented it as we laid Billy to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HrhX7oKaEl4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HrhX7oKaEl4&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then buried him behind the dorm. It was moving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3244992138719438825?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3244992138719438825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/rip-billy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3244992138719438825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3244992138719438825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/rip-billy.html' title='RIP Billy'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1fwLrVl0SI/AAAAAAAAADc/jxISEnqHjSw/s72-c/IMG_0311%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3925834795738484347</id><published>2010-01-19T17:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T17:37:47.940-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='class'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>AHH classes!</title><content type='html'>I have some serious selective memory when it comes to UConn.  I love school to death and then I remember that there's the whole class thing and that really, really sucks.  They started up today and I kicked the semester off with straight class from 11-3:15.  People affectionately deem this week "Syllabus Week" because teachers mostly just introduce us to the class, so I was all ready to get out of all my classes within twenty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, so wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one of my classes went the WHOLE TIME, with the exception of one that got out five minutes early.  I learned.  I took notes.  I have reading.  God dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gym was also bananas, luckily I got the machines I wanted but I can't wait until the weather gets nice (tomorrow 37 degrees and sunny!!) so I can RUN RUN RUN like a little bunny rabbit.  It's been a few days now and my little legskis are itching for some serious pavement.  Last semester though I was heavily devoted to hauling tail out of bed at 8 a.m. to get a run in.  With the 3 hours between my 11 a.m. and my 3 p.m. class, I might just go between that time period now.  We'll see how it works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to figure out my night, have a good one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3925834795738484347?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3925834795738484347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/ahh-classes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3925834795738484347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3925834795738484347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/ahh-classes.html' title='AHH classes!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1359726661780826256</id><published>2010-01-18T07:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T10:17:31.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning</title><content type='html'>Hungover morning, actually. The first night of UConn started off with a bang at the bar. We had to get there by 9:45 so we wouldn't get carded, so the drinking started off early. Unfortunately there was no pre-game and I didn't want to bring my camera to the bar, so I only took these couple photos of the roommate and I right after we got dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 407px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428105612337820594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1SBS4qzM7I/AAAAAAAAADU/SJ2ILKIMwqE/s400/IMG_0307.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 331px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 428px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428105602459905202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1SBST3uLLI/AAAAAAAAADM/Uxvl5m73pU4/s400/IMG_0306.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they look awkward, that's because they are. Self-timers are so uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so nobody was down to pay $8 per drink, so we ended up sneaking in water bottles of alcohol and then stealing cups off tables to pour them into. Gross? Yes. Necessary? Definitely. As good as the real thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dancing was great, I was so happy to just be going wild and me and this gay kid at one point just starting dancing like crazy to "Single Ladies", literally I was struggling to keep up with him because we were going at it so intensely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about midnight my 6 shot drink started to really kick in (I'm not much of a tank of you haven't noticed, and my tolerance definitely went down over break), so the wave of exhaustion hit me and I decided to bounce and meet up with two friends who were originally supposed to go to the bar but didn't make it before it became 21+. I got into my jammies and they met me at my room and we shot the shit for a little and then I passed out. It was a fun night to kick the semester off to, and I even have a regular parking pass now! I sense a good semester :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1359726661780826256?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1359726661780826256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1359726661780826256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1359726661780826256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-morning.html' title='Good Morning'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1SBS4qzM7I/AAAAAAAAADU/SJ2ILKIMwqE/s72-c/IMG_0307.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-3747668853504956050</id><published>2010-01-16T17:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:53:58.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie Deliciousness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mmmmmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427519162961250322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr7CfuSBI/AAAAAAAAADE/4CXYvBjpvrE/s400/IMG_0625.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427519158362959874" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr6xXZ8AI/AAAAAAAAAC8/wrbykQFlo-w/s400/IMG_0626.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elise was making cookies for her boyfriend and his roommates and asked me for some help. I love to bake so I gladly obliged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;reese's&lt;/span&gt; peanut butter cup cookies that were originally supposed to be rolled in corn flakes. However, Elise, for one reason or another, bought Special K (a rice-based cereal), so we tried our luck with graham cracker crumbs instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427519157185878642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr6s-xGnI/AAAAAAAAAC0/7cEuUvgTDBY/s400/IMG_0621.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fry, baby. Fry.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;They turned out even better with the graham because it was some added sweetness. Elise waiting for her cookies to cook was like a toddler looking out the window for Santa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427519145599933154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr6B0dmuI/AAAAAAAAACs/3gJOYkuts_c/s400/IMG_0619.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427519142896528162" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr53v66yI/AAAAAAAAACk/103WyfUYKiw/s400/IMG_0620.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our dad deemed himself official taste tester as soon as they came out of the oven. Elise didn't even have time to tell him they were hot before he was chomping down on one of those suckers. He approved of their deliciousness. So did we. Now she just has to find a place to hide them so he doesn't eat the rest tonight, something he's infamous for accomplishing while we're all &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;unsuspectingly&lt;/span&gt; sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-3747668853504956050?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/3747668853504956050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/cookie-deliciousness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3747668853504956050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/3747668853504956050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/cookie-deliciousness.html' title='Cookie Deliciousness'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1Jr7CfuSBI/AAAAAAAAADE/4CXYvBjpvrE/s72-c/IMG_0625.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-4177204501328433510</id><published>2010-01-16T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T14:32:25.673-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='university of connecticut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><title type='text'>packing's OVER!</title><content type='html'>All packed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427467046018952658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1I8hbwZLdI/AAAAAAAAACc/ovCTf74fMXU/s400/IMG_0618%5B1%5D" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The green bag is purely shoes.  Sometimes I embarrass myself with how &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; I can be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took way less time than I thought it would...I'm probably forgetting something really important, like the computer I'm typing on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an extra bag out for all the crap I find that I want to throw in there at the last second, but other than out &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; officially out tomorrow.  This break was officially the laziest one I've ever had.  I didn't work and I sat on my ass pretty much the whole time (minus working out/running).  I liked it a lot, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'll pick up some things at the grocery store and then the debauchery will begin Sunday night.  There's no classes Monday which probably means people will go particularly insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, some good news today.  A week or so ago I had an extremely random and lucky encounter with a woman who happened to be an avid blogger and a well paid &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; freelance writer.  She explained to me that she is starting up a magazine that focuses on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Eco&lt;/span&gt;-friendly living and told me to submit anything I had.  Well, I took her up on this offer, cranked out a quick article for my school paper and forwarded it over to her.  She asked me to write TWO more articles that I will get paid for.  I'm SO excited for this, I wrote one already but I'm working on ideas for another.  The issue doesn't come out for three more months so I have some time, but I want to get it done before the work from school starts piling in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it, have a good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-4177204501328433510?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/4177204501328433510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/packings-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4177204501328433510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4177204501328433510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/packings-over.html' title='packing&apos;s OVER!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1I8hbwZLdI/AAAAAAAAACc/ovCTf74fMXU/s72-c/IMG_0618%5B1%5D' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-1764319116336281599</id><published>2010-01-16T11:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T11:15:03.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gettin' Ready for the big move</title><content type='html'>Oh &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;heyyyyy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427415165525212738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1INVl2yvkI/AAAAAAAAACU/G2NvM9-ki0I/s320/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Dusty saying &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wuddup&lt;/span&gt;. He's surprisingly easy to photograph because he stares at the camera like he's bearing into your soul. He doesn't blink once, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, the cold front's over and it was BEAUTIFUL today, 42 degrees and the perfect day for a nice long run. Here's a picture of my backyard (not doing much justice for how nice it really was outside) and one from my kitchen. The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;kitch&lt;/span&gt; gets a lot of light so it's so nice in the mornings when it's nice and warm from the sunlight.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427415162813516642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1INVbwRi2I/AAAAAAAAACM/bTP5OMEle6Q/s320/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427415151188215106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1INUwclhUI/AAAAAAAAACE/g5x8PrWhz20/s320/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up running 8.33 miles in 78:13. Not bad for me. I can run far, but I run pretty slowly. With the knee injury I'm really afraid of the pounding movement, so I'm icing it up right now and hoping I can squeeze in something light tomorrow without it acting up. I am hoping to run more at school because the gym gets absolutely chaotic this time of year. Suddenly everyone gets all into their new year's resolutions and wants to better themselves by taking up my damn machines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding, I'm actually really happy to see people wanting to get in shape and work out. Exercise is so great once you really get past the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;initial&lt;/span&gt; "I think I'd rather kill myself than be doing this" beginning phases. It's relaxing and you sleep like a baby at night. Hopefully if I go in the morning my machines won't be taken up. I use the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Precor&lt;/span&gt; Elliptical (The "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;squirrelliptical&lt;/span&gt;" as I read someone call it because it looks like a squirrel with giant feet) and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;arctrainer&lt;/span&gt;, which are two highly unpopular machines for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been plugging away at the Jillian &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Michaels&lt;/span&gt; 30 Day Shred DVD. I saw it on On Demand and they conspicuously left out the 3rd workout, but I heard that's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;plyometrics&lt;/span&gt; anyway and with a knee injury that may not be so great to do. However, from what I've been doing I have seriously seen results. Take a look at my ripped arm muscle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427415146796739106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1INUgFk6iI/AAAAAAAAAB8/woJQcjENyHc/s320/006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; seriously, I'm no Hulk Hogan but that is impressive for me. I used to have flabby ass arms and when I lost weight they just went to straight up scrawny. I'm really proud of myself for sticking with this because I hate, hate, HATE strength training with a burning passion in my heart. Thanks to my awesome genetics I was blessed with zero upper body strength from both sides of my family, so lifting even the lightest weights just makes me miserable. After the first day I was ready to tell Jillian to go screw herself, but something got me back in front of the TV the next day and I'm so glad I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta pack because I go back to school tomorrow, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt; for going back to school...not packing. That's going to really suck. Have a nice Saturday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-1764319116336281599?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/1764319116336281599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/gettin-ready-for-big-move.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1764319116336281599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/1764319116336281599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/gettin-ready-for-big-move.html' title='Gettin&apos; Ready for the big move'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1INVl2yvkI/AAAAAAAAACU/G2NvM9-ki0I/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-6882975934529219472</id><published>2010-01-15T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T13:16:59.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I call bulls***</title><content type='html'>I slept until about 11:15 today, total abnormal for me but I've been so sleep deprived in the last two days.  I slept HORRIBLE after the Pitt Game and then I came home and passed out from about 4-6 PM.  Then I went straight back out to a friend's house from work.  I knew I didn't want to spend the night there, so I started sobering up at a certain point and drove home at about 3:30, finally getting in the door and collapsing into my own bed around 4 a.m.  I really can't wait to get back to school and walk home and pass out in a bed and not have to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone seen the new &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Self&lt;/span&gt; Magazine?  Jessica Alba's on the cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1DY5ks3tHI/AAAAAAAAAB0/w6Ndne8d3ec/s1600-h/Jessica-Alba-On-The-Cover-Of-Self-February-2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1DY5ks3tHI/AAAAAAAAAB0/w6Ndne8d3ec/s320/Jessica-Alba-On-The-Cover-Of-Self-February-2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427076034597467250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She talks a lot about fitness and stuff, and how she's lovin' her cellulite and stretch marks after popping out a baby.  Good for her, but what really ticked me off was that she said she didn't work out really or watch what she ate.  She said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Diets are for the birds. I think you have to eat in a way that makes you feel your best. I include a lot of vegetables and lean protein and fruit and grains in my diet. I’m not a big workout person. Every single day, I tell my girlfriends we’re starting a regimen. And then it’s, like, ‘Want to get dinner? Want a glass of wine?’”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Jessica, I am calling total bullshit on your ass.  Maybe now you're pounding pudding cups with your baby (although I highly doubt it), but don't try to convince the general public that you have--nor never had--an eating regimen.  She had an eating disorder when she was younger and was basically eating yogurt and lettuce when she was getting in shape for "Fantastic Four".  Women don't eat whatever they want and look like her, and it's a false message to tell them that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many celebrities try to convince the general public that they just look the way they do because they got lucky and have good genes.  That may be part of it, but we're not stupid.  Your personal trainer, chef, life coach, and therapist (not to mention the insane pressure of daily public scrutiny) are keeping your ass in shape.   If I had the money to pay someone to follow me and slap the donut out of my hand, I'd look that good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there, Jessica.  I'm on to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-6882975934529219472?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/6882975934529219472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-call-bulls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6882975934529219472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/6882975934529219472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-call-bulls.html' title='I call bulls***'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S1DY5ks3tHI/AAAAAAAAAB0/w6Ndne8d3ec/s72-c/Jessica-Alba-On-The-Cover-Of-Self-February-2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-4506585928295460177</id><published>2010-01-14T13:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T13:32:06.693-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haiti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='basketball'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='university of connecticut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relief'/><title type='text'>The Pitt Game</title><content type='html'>U-C-O-N-N, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UConn&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UConn&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UConn&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, we lost, but it was still a fun game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426706192595253842" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S0-Ih74NelI/AAAAAAAAABc/fAKAiUc-DA0/s320/pitt+game+240.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a point when we were winning by one, but we couldn't quite pull it off. Luckily we were plenty entertained, though, because a friend decided get into a fistfight with the group behind us. The two went plowing into the row in front of us (he dragged the kid above us two rows down), security was called, it was good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were plenty of happy moments though and this was one of them. Aren't my friends adorable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426706199568117746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S0-IiV2q7_I/AAAAAAAAABs/S0qnGelsWjw/s320/pitt+game+242.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so ridiculously excited to see all of my friends from school though. It makes me really want to get back asap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426706196842889602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S0-IiLs7QYI/AAAAAAAAABk/5wIyr0Cs-VU/s320/pitt+game+245.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is my last night hanging out with some of my friends from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Friendly's&lt;/span&gt;. I'd love to drink and spend the night with all of them, but I'm pooped from last night. I spent the night and I do NOT sleep well in random beds. Something about being in the comfort of my own bed helps me fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, if you haven't been living in a hole you've probably heard about the earthquake that hit Haiti on Tuesday. Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere and now these people are left without food, water, or medical assistance and are forced to fend for themselves while rescue attempts through their ports prove futile. Please, PLEASE if you have the means, visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yele.org/"&gt;http://www.yele.org/&lt;/a&gt;: this is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wyclef&lt;/span&gt; Jean's site for Haitian Relief, originally set up about five years ago to develop this massively struggling country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or even text (something that takes two seconds) the word "Haiti" to 90999 and you will make a $10 donation for Haiti relief that will be billed to your phone (this was on Ellen &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Degeneres&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Americans, we can't imagine what its like to be in a medical emergency and not have a policeman, fireman, or ambulance come to our aid immediately. This isn't the case with these people. They lie on the streets for days alongside corpses and others slowly dying simply hoping that someone will rescue them. Any donation helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-4506585928295460177?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/4506585928295460177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/pitt-game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4506585928295460177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/4506585928295460177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/pitt-game.html' title='The Pitt Game'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S0-Ih74NelI/AAAAAAAAABc/fAKAiUc-DA0/s72-c/pitt+game+240.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-7231897461360931664</id><published>2010-01-13T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T10:42:15.428-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='university of connecticut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Connecticut'/><title type='text'>Connecticut is damn cold</title><content type='html'>I love to run. This is a pretty recent development, because I just started running outside this summer. When I first started, I literally huffed and puffed my way through a half mile and swore to myself that running was the devil manifested in a form of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt; and I should stay away. But my sister was doing it and she still looked like she may not be possessed by demons so I stayed with it through the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about a month, I realized why people really, really like it. It's not about running yourself ragged, it's about getting yourself into a pace, feeling a rhythm, and just giving yourself a moment of peace. I could run for miles and miles now and have to consciously limit my runs, particularly lately after a knee injury has been making several outings painful. That said, if any of you are looking to get into running, keep in mind I was the laziest person ever and if I can get my ass onto the pavement, anyone can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, running through the Connecticut winter has taken some serious willpower. When I first step outside I sometimes want to run back into my house or dorm and curl up in a ball under my covers. I have to really layer up, and I'm not the type to invest in modern running gear so I make do with what I've got. That is, hobo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mittens&lt;/span&gt;, fleece leggings, a fleece top (meant for snowboarding...something I'm heinous at), and an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;earband&lt;/span&gt;. Classy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426290991525641730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S04O6DXJvgI/AAAAAAAAABE/rzmawcKuoM8/s320/IMG00002-20100113-1032.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also run with a full size &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt; attached to my arm. Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT by any means a winter person. In fact, I was born and raised in Dallas, Texas and moved to CT when I was 10. I sucked at snowboarding, and I sucked even worse at skiing. I hate the treadmill--I'll do it if I'm left with no other options--and I REALLY like being outside. I guess that's how I found myself running in the winter. Oh, the choices we make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426291000459648866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S04O6kpL32I/AAAAAAAAABM/PFVx2UyhZJg/s320/IMG00006-20100113-1239.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is my sister (left), my cousin (middle), and me in the pool in Dallas. Cool goggles, Elise!! Those were some happy days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt;, growing up I loved sports, but I was not &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;particularly&lt;/span&gt; athletic. Basically, I was just kind of lazy. I played defense in soccer so I didn't have to run, and I also ate like shit. I was little so I didn't care. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426291004211451730" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S04O6ynr11I/AAAAAAAAABU/CQe7IT-UVF4/s320/IMG00004-20100113-1236.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;See that girl in the front with the bag and jacket? That's me. With disturbingly high pants. Never let your mom dictate what level your garments should be worn.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, the point of this whole &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;schpeil&lt;/span&gt; is that being active did not come naturally to me, I really had to train myself to want to work out and be healthy. So stick with it, tiger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ANYWAY, today is kind of a big day because I am going to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UConn&lt;/span&gt; vs. Pittsburgh game, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;! I am going to a friend's house beforehand so I'll probably be taking some pictures of t&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; whole outing. GO HUSKIES! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-7231897461360931664?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/7231897461360931664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/connecticut-is-damn-cold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7231897461360931664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/7231897461360931664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/connecticut-is-damn-cold.html' title='Connecticut is damn cold'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S04O6DXJvgI/AAAAAAAAABE/rzmawcKuoM8/s72-c/IMG00002-20100113-1032.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3600328470042587848.post-2078533696251041237</id><published>2010-01-12T18:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T18:57:09.341-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first post'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='university of connecticut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beginning'/><title type='text'>The Big First Post</title><content type='html'>Hi,  Welcome to my blog!  I figured I will take this first post to introduce myself and the intent of this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, my name is Becky.  I will be 20 years old on January 25.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00yJU1Ti7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Dqjyjc4uuJo/s1600-h/14656_1202594380030_1083690133_30578399_571404_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00yJU1Ti7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Dqjyjc4uuJo/s320/14656_1202594380030_1083690133_30578399_571404_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426048261843815346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(that's me on the left, with my roommate, Kelsey, on New Year's Eve)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am a very driven and motivated person (most of the time).  I push myself very hard--sometimes maybe a little too hard-- and when I set my mind on something I want to accomplish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00yX_NSIGI/AAAAAAAAAAc/c-MiFQTOgEY/s1600-h/12162_1179641731348_1237290221_30554446_5001404_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00yX_NSIGI/AAAAAAAAAAc/c-MiFQTOgEY/s320/12162_1179641731348_1237290221_30554446_5001404_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426048513736843362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although sometimes I can be a little wacky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some pretty great friends.  We have a great time together and I can always count of them when I need them.  We may have our occasional spats, but we are essentially a group that will lay it all on the table and have no problem embarrassing ourselves to get a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00zD4X7zgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/LsCZonqG7s8/s1600-h/13455_190824041677_606136677_3912288_1897322_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00zD4X7zgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/LsCZonqG7s8/s320/13455_190824041677_606136677_3912288_1897322_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426049267816713730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is at Halloween...Jess in the front is looking quite frightening.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am a Psychology and Journalism double major at the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span dragover="true" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;University of Connecticut! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dragover="true" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;Basically, I am a heartfelt Husky and I love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;UConn&lt;/span&gt;.  We may not be the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bost&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hoppin&lt;/span&gt;' college town around....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S000WZtG45I/AAAAAAAAAA0/DUoED0xD5gU/s1600-h/horsefield_small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S000WZtG45I/AAAAAAAAAA0/DUoED0xD5gU/s320/horsefield_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426050685513163666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yessir&lt;/span&gt;, that's our horse pasture.  There' s a cow pasture not far away, too.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We'll always find a way to have a good time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a dragover="true" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S001Exv2bgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ec8Qbcd9I6Q/s1600-h/76331301_9d44d2478c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S001Exv2bgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ec8Qbcd9I6Q/s320/76331301_9d44d2478c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426051482241101314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, ANYWAY, what the hell is the point of some random college sophomore with no discernible distinguishing characteristics starting a blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny I should self-impose such a question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I have found that despite what people may think, a lot of college kids have something to say.  About that their immediate world, about the greater spectrum, and about themselves.  I realized that publishing a blog would get my voice heard, and that's all I want.  I've got opinions and struggles and goals just like any other person, and the reading the humaneness of somebody else live and fail and succeed and just generally do the best she can will hopefully inspire others to do the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggle to eat well, maintain my fitness, my grades, write for the school newspaper, and maintain my social life constantly.  However, it's those challenges that give me something to say, and along with realizing there is a whole WIDE world outside of myself, I hope that you will be willing to grow and learn with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's me in a nutshell!  Thanks for listening :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3600328470042587848-2078533696251041237?l=gimmebecky.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/feeds/2078533696251041237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/big-first-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2078533696251041237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3600328470042587848/posts/default/2078533696251041237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gimmebecky.blogspot.com/2010/01/big-first-post.html' title='The Big First Post'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07886067254329814793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WSY3JYieSRA/S00yJU1Ti7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Dqjyjc4uuJo/s72-c/14656_1202594380030_1083690133_30578399_571404_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
