<?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-3043681243352301455</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:47:01.591-05:00</updated><category term='Near Goggles'/><category term='lazy bum'/><category term='Bridezillas'/><category term='The Vision'/><category term='Apple'/><category term='iPod'/><category term='Dentist'/><title type='text'>Speaks In Ink!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3043681243352301455.post-1716381182733421894</id><published>2010-03-27T19:59:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T22:23:12.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Street. Smart.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;OK, Finally going to dive back into throwing words into cyberspace. Normally, the time I spend away from blogging comes from my life getting a little too hectic to jot anything down... I wish that was the case this time around.  Truth be told, there were a couple of things that took over my thoughts for a while... every time I sat down to write it ended up being about the exact same topic. No matter how hard I tried to pen something witty or interesting, the product was depressing and (admittedly) a little bitter.  While I'm never sure anyone is ever truly interested in what I write, I know that no one wanted to read about what was on my mind then.  Let's hope that this comes out a little bit differently. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;At work the other day, a guy was joking around and made a crack about how he wasn't "smart," he was just good at memorizing things. If he were smart then he'd lose all his street cred. Not going to front, I laughed... it's funny because it's true.  Later on I took a step back and gave that statement some serious thought.  When exactly did it become cool to ride the short bus? Think about it for a bit. Think back, way back to when you still had recess... think about the smartest kid in the class... now think about how much shit that kid got. Ever wonder why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in college I got the chance to hear Spike Lee speak ( but not at my school, because we were too busy dropping cash on Lil' Wayne) and he mentioned that way back when, [music was music, and soda was only a nickel, blah blah] there were 3 guys that were always respected: The athlete, the mac, and the genius.  So at which point did being smart become so uncool? Jump-shot? Yes. Pipe-game? Yes.  Full-ride-to-an-ivy-league? Not in my hood. Interesting mentality isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most folks figure out somewhere down the road that being intelligent isn't a hindrance after all. Of course, by the time they figure it out there isn't any hope for that 1.7 GPA.  Nothing left to do at that point but grab a squeegee or an apron. Saddest part of it all is that with a bit of motivation, and maybe some acceptance, things could have turned out entirely different for a countless number of people.  Don't misconstrue these statements. I know that every neighborhood of every city is full of intelligent individuals; they know it, too... I'm just wondering when being bright will come back in style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... ah well, maybe there will be room after skinny jeans.&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-1716381182733421894?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/1716381182733421894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=1716381182733421894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1716381182733421894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1716381182733421894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2010/03/street-smart.html' title='Street. Smart.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-5817043619365507512</id><published>2010-01-03T22:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T22:37:48.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty. Ten.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Haven't written in quite some time... Though that's not really unusual for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to make resolutions for the new year (because I can't remember a single resolution I ever stuck with). . . and I'm not going to make any promises or anything to the like, but I am going to challenge myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I truly admired about some folks I met in '09 was their ability to continue doing things that made them happy -- regardless of what anyone else thought.  The more I look out into the world, the more I see a ton of people all doing the same thing. Far too many of us are drones. We continue to live based solely on the expectations of those around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge for 2010 -- Do something that makes you happy. Do something that others said you could not. Do something regardless of the blank stares you get when someone else learns of your plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is full of experiences yet to be had. . . why wait?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-5817043619365507512?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/5817043619365507512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=5817043619365507512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/5817043619365507512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/5817043619365507512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2010/01/twenty-ten.html' title='Twenty. Ten.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-6481480652902960854</id><published>2009-12-01T01:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T02:14:58.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia - 1 Dec 09</title><content type='html'>Can't sleep. Free-verse. Never posted anything like this on my blog before, so consider it a change of pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just.Words.Chill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i try and make sense of it. the penmanship's intricate&lt;br /&gt;details...&lt;br /&gt;into why i don't sleep well. Speak. Well...&lt;br /&gt;of what the past is.. and pray that the future is past it...&lt;br /&gt;and that i never go back. but you know that, I'm past, tense.&lt;br /&gt;Cause the thoughts weigh heavily... and what some say's heavenly...&lt;br /&gt;i see as nothing but something bucking up to deaden me....&lt;br /&gt;try not to let the thoughts get ahead of me....&lt;br /&gt;the pedigree... dog, regardless of what the breed is...&lt;br /&gt;so the obvious truth, is the hardest of the secrets...&lt;br /&gt;but i never had the heart enough, to harden up and keep it...&lt;br /&gt;so it was on the table, next to my horns and the halo...&lt;br /&gt;by the same phone, with ring tones off so i could lay low...&lt;br /&gt;i wore it all... and she saw that ... but i bet she wouldn't recall that...&lt;br /&gt;another story, another day... i'm about to get off that...&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/SpeaksInInk"&gt;http://www.twitter.com/SpeaksInInk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-6481480652902960854?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/6481480652902960854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=6481480652902960854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6481480652902960854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6481480652902960854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/12/insomnia-1-dec-09.html' title='Insomnia - 1 Dec 09'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-9164344779558854136</id><published>2009-11-24T19:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T00:02:34.766-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iPod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apple'/><title type='text'>iFraud</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My life's most recent tragedy was the death of my 80GB iPod.  I know it's unhealthy for a human being to have such a strong attachment to any inanimate object, but music is my lifeblood, so that iPod meant the world to me. I could find music to suit any mood -- my iPod held the soundtrack to my life.  Until that plastic, metallic, heartless piece of apple-made, Steve Jobs bullshit broke down on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funnily enough, this entry isn't even about the traitor breaking down on me.  As a guy who has spent more than half his life working on/with electronics i know that anything with a chip in it is bound to fail at some point.  No my friends, this rant is about the "Genius Bar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Genius Bar let me give you a quick rundown.  This is the place that Apple technicians "troubleshoot" issues with your electronics. Unless the electronic in question is an iPod -- if that's the case, they are pretty much as worthless as a paraplegic at a track meet. This is my second encounter with the Genius bar, both have been iPod issues. The solution: new iPod.  Bastards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the guy in the goofy shirt, with the ridiculous iPhone (that doubles as a register) is supposed to be a genius, wouldn't he be able to take apart my ipod; replace the malfunctioned battery; reassemble my ipod; and return it to me with all my data still in place?  All this time I thought genius meant someone with an exceptional intellect when in reality, it's just some douche bag who charges me money to hot swap faulty equipment.  You learn something new everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unrelated News.. SpeaksInInk is now on Twitter ... Peep the blog. Follow the man. Join the movement. Gracias. (@SpeaksInInk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-9164344779558854136?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/9164344779558854136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=9164344779558854136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9164344779558854136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9164344779558854136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/11/ifraud.html' title='iFraud'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-7275216920366718455</id><published>2009-11-04T02:31:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T03:18:17.926-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Near Goggles'/><title type='text'>Near Goggles (PSA)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't lie, you've worn them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe everyone has adorned a fresh pair of Near Goggles at some point in their life, but the question is... Did you know you were wearing them? Are you wearing them now??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may be familiar with Beer Goggles, the more generic of infatuation eye-wear; but Near Goggles prove to be a much more formidable handicap. BGs, while often leading to a relatively decent close for your night, are often the catalyst for a terrible morning. (Either you're taking the walk of shame, sneaking out at 3AM, waking up next to swamp-thing, or trying to remember the name of that Guatemalan transvestite who has probably already sold your kidney on eBay) The upside? You can go out with the intention of wearing your transparent frames by the end of the night. (It's not my job to judge)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can search for BGs, but Near Goggles find you. Don't pretend like you haven't figured out what they are. You work at that job with a 10:1 ratio, and the first day you show up you assess the scene. You see that the only member of the opposite sex is a 5 on their best day... and you start to curse God because you realize you'll be looking at that same 5 for the next third of your natural life. (or until you get fired for screwing up at the drive thru...whichever comes first)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it happens. One day you come into work and Cinco looks like a 6. Then you start thinking that maybe in the right light, with the right outfit, they could be a 6.5... maybe even a low 7. Days, Weeks, Months pass and somehow Cinco is an Ocho and you're at dinner. Now you begin to consider that you have things in common with Cinco. "Wow, you use Angel Soft, too? Amazing!" One dinner becomes two; two dinners becomes drinks; drinks become goggles, and next thing you know you're married. Congratulations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I consider this entry to simply be a Public Service Announcement. Near Goggles are out there - have you looked in the mirror lately?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. That was a test. Geez, you're shallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unrelated Note: ".com" coming soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-7275216920366718455?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/7275216920366718455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=7275216920366718455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/7275216920366718455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/7275216920366718455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/11/near-goggles-psa.html' title='Near Goggles (PSA)'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-1920447426157820821</id><published>2009-10-13T22:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T23:46:23.832-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dentist'/><title type='text'>Drill. Down.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:85%;" &gt;Today I visited everyone's favorite person... the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why the dentist actually exist -- and I truly loathe the experience. There are several reasons that I hate the dentist, but I will share just a few. Granted my experiences at the dentist may not be common, because I visit the doc that the military provides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. I'm always made to feel a failure when I go. Brush and floss twice a day? Doesn’t matter that I do, because when brushing I have to angle the bristles in a particular manner. Apparently, if the bristles aren't angled at a perfect 57.6 degrees, all my brushing is for nothing. Would have been good information 23 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. Despite the fact that I'm a grown man, the dentist always talks to me in an extremely condescending voice. It's not quite incoherent, baby talk. . . but it's just a few steps above that. I'm not sure if the change in speech is his feeble attempt to comfort me, but it doesn't help. In fact, it angers me to the point where I give serious consideration to taking one of those dental instruments and jamming it down his eye socket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C. When the Doc isn't talking to me in some ridiculous, bull shit, tone he's busy whispering to the dental tech that's camped out in the room. (and who will undoubtedly do all the work) What's the big secret? Newsflash guy with the gloves and mask: not very many life-altering announcements have been made by a dentist. Just tell me what the deal is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. Back to those satanic tools of torture I mentioned earlier. Why is every tool in a dentist’s arsenal some form of pick, needle, or drill? Happen to have any tools in that bag that aren't used in cheap S&amp;amp;M pornos? Guess not. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but even I cringe when my gums are being annihilated by some 2000 RPM elf drill. Does the dental tech ever give me a “sorry”, or “my bad”? Nope. She just keeps on torturing me. Perfect &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;job for a dominatrix. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:85%;" &gt;The silver lining of this visit: 2 hours out of the office.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess when it’s all said and done, I still love the Air Force. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:10pt;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;… Do Something Amazing …&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&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/3043681243352301455-1920447426157820821?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/1920447426157820821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=1920447426157820821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1920447426157820821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1920447426157820821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/10/today-i-visited-everyones-favorite.html' title='Drill. Down.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-3235244840038165566</id><published>2009-10-12T19:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T20:19:25.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'd be remiss in my blogging duties if i didn't address this viral video that's going around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, some guy decided it was an awesome idea to film his... I'm going to guess she's around 4... year old daughter ranting about some bull and shouting some expletives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;A brief excerpt:&lt;br /&gt;"I told her get out the car and fight bitch"&lt;br /&gt;"Smack yo' ass to the mother fucking ground" &lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How idiotic do you have to be to think that this is impressive? So at the age of 4, your little girl knows how to curse, fight, and pretty much fulfill every stereotype there is about black youth. This guy's obviously a candidate for the Parent of the Year Award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire his philosophy: don't set the bar low for your daughter, just completely remove it. Since she's cursing and fighting at 4, chances are she'll be on the pole by 12, and if you're lucky she'll be snorting coke off some guy's sack by 16. One can estimate that she'll have at least one child of her own by 18, and that child will get to follow in her sterling footsteps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm even more disturbed that in my search to find a link for the video that didn't originate on Facebook, I found tons of folks who thought that this video was actually funny.  Nothing funny about a kid who can, in a brief 1 minute and 45 seconds, set back an entire race. She literally does nothing but spout out random, ghetto, ignorant buffoonery for over a minute and a half.  Doesn't matter if Barack is in office, if the mentality of the people he's leading doesn't change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For every step forward that we make, there is still the potential to regress. As cliche as it sounds, children are our future - and they are relying solely on our guidance to put them on course to achieve the great things we know they are all capable of.  If, instead, we decide to applaud them for perpetuating ignorance... well, you imagine what kind of world it'll be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry world... couldn't find a link to post this on my blog... look for it on Facebook, I'm sure someone has it on their page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-3235244840038165566?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/3235244840038165566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=3235244840038165566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3235244840038165566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3235244840038165566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/10/really.html' title='Really?'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-3397999008665860368</id><published>2009-09-24T17:30:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T21:08:33.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happened?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;-- Although i try not to alienate anyone in particular... this post is really for my Hip Hop Heads. It is what it is --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today i was listening to the radio and i started to wonder... what happened to the radio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember way back when I'd sit around with my Maxell 90 minute cassette tape, waiting all day for that song to finally come on the radio. Yea, everyone knows that song. And after waiting all day to record it, I'd get pissed off because I'd get the DJ saying something random over the end of the track...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get that feeling anymore. People have been saying that hip hop's been dead for a while... it's not until recently that i truly started to believe it. (the mainstream, anyway)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while, I was happy to go through a day without hearing about someone's swag. I don't know about you, but when i wake up in the morning i Turn My Swag On. And while all these other guys were either Swagger Jackin,  or trying to Swag Up, i was busy Swag Surfin. If you don't believe me, Check My Swag... Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened to the days when rap told a story? Not a generic, run-of-the-mill, i-watched-Scarface, i-sling-rocks story --  but a legit, "this is my life" story. It's funny to me that the only thing that sells nowadays is the hood shit. I didn't know that so much of the world grew up in the hood... I hadn't realized that MILLIONS of people could relate to the drug game and murder. All this time i thought the US was fairly well off.. turns out it's truly just a well disguised 3rd world country. Had it not been for gangster rap, i may have never discovered this fact. Guess i was living in the matrix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the swag phase to the auto-tune craze. (or maybe they co-existed?) Don't pretend like you don't care about Auto-tune. Don't act like you could tell the difference between Kanye, Juelz, T-Pain, Lil Wayne, Ron Browz, 50 Cent, Jim Jones, and Young Jeezy. You didn't even know all those rappers had dropped something recently did you? Well they have... all with the same lame lyrics, and queer voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes try and tie in a bigger picture meaning to my tirades. No such luck with this one. I'm literally just pissed off because something that once gave me nothing but joy.. has become a source of agony. I just want to turn on my radio without hearing the same one song on all 3 of the local stations simultaneously. If i keep pressing the presets around 5, it sounds like i'm scratching a record... when really all along i'm only praying for a commercial. Such is life i guess. I'm patiently waiting for the return of real rap. Awaiting the day when we stop putting average rappers on a pedestal (Drake), just because there hasn't been anyone with any true talent in so long. Patiently awaiting the day when we can call albums classics because the album is truly dope, and not because it's just the best album to hit the mainstream in the last 2 years or so.  (Blueprint 3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A Shameless plug for true hip-hop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G-ruvafWmZs/SrwTJgvZOnI/AAAAAAAAABI/FmtEQ45dncs/s1600-h/slaughterhouse-album.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G-ruvafWmZs/SrwTJgvZOnI/AAAAAAAAABI/FmtEQ45dncs/s320/slaughterhouse-album.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385200308556741234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3043681243352301455-3397999008665860368?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/3397999008665860368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=3397999008665860368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3397999008665860368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3397999008665860368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-happened.html' title='What Happened?!'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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/_G-ruvafWmZs/SrwTJgvZOnI/AAAAAAAAABI/FmtEQ45dncs/s72-c/slaughterhouse-album.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3043681243352301455.post-9220942606901745412</id><published>2009-09-07T21:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:44:57.101-04:00</updated><title type='text'>it's complicated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;( i was asked to blog about people who post their entire life on twitter/facebook/myspace/flickr/insert random social network here. Typically i wouldn't tailor my blog to any one specific idea -- i like to start typing and just see what comes out. (often times i'm just as surprised as you are.) But, this really does peeve me. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What possesses someone to post every detail of their life for the world to see? I'm not saying i'm above the status updates, or blog post (obviously) but why do some  feel the need to take it so far? The ever-changing relationship status kills me. Single, in a relationship, complicated, engaged, single.  I'm willing to bet any amount of money that if you spent more time with your other half, and less time tweeting, things would be different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;As if it's not bad enough that some... individuals... choose to give the entire world a real-time play-by-play of their lives; these same individuals will turn around and post a status update that says something along the lines of "why's everyone all up in my business" ... Gee, i don't know dipshit, maybe it's because you post all your business online.  Are you really that insecure? Do you really need to create digital drama to add some meaning to your life? Oh look at me, look at me - WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME!??! Seems kind of idiotic to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But maybe it's me. Maybe i'm the only guy who is annoyed by this new trend. After all, we're in a world of instant gratification. I guess people don't have the time to call you and see what's going on with you. I suppose it's completely logical that your friends (these being real friends - as in folks you've made actual physical contact with and not just a picture that you poked, pinged,  or requested) don't have the time to call and check up on you. So really, you're doing them a favor by posting an update every 34.6 seconds. It's also completely possible that you are, in fact, kind of a big deal. And you truly do have fans that are on the edge of their seats awaiting an update on what you're watching on tv, eating for dinner, and just how much lent you picked from between your toes. It is completely possible that by airing out every detail about who you're fucking, beefing with, and cheating on, you're truly managing your relationships like a mature, level-headed adult. What was i thinking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Read my blog, read my blog. Why the fuck are you reading my blog?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-9220942606901745412?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/9220942606901745412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=9220942606901745412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9220942606901745412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9220942606901745412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-complicated.html' title='it&apos;s complicated'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-4078372055437386852</id><published>2009-09-06T23:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T09:22:52.850-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridezillas'/><title type='text'>Reality? TV.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Today i actually sat down and watched an episode of Bridezillas.  i know that it's uber-gay that i even took the time out of my day to watch the show, but stranger things have happened.  For anyone who hasn't seen Bridezillas before, here's a brief run-down: Man &amp;amp; Woman are engaged...bride is a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show baffles me. Where do they find the guys that are down for this deal? Imagine proposing to your sweetheart, and the next thing she does is call up a nationally syndicated show, tell them that she's getting ready to put you through hell, and offers to let them roll the cameras. Really? In the episode i saw today, the bride-to-be fusses at her dude, steals his debit card, ODs his account, wears a tiara for a week, makes some other chick pump her gas (because she couldn't smell like gas on her wedding day), and has the groomsmen carry her fat ass down the aisle. Bananas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing i did learn from the show is that bitchiness and weight are in direct proportion. (as are a few other things, but that's another post.) Apparently, as the weight increases so does the attitude... which is completely backwards to me.  I'd think that the bride would just be happy that she found some guy willing to accept her rolls and folds while simultaneously embracing the thousands of dollars he will kick out trying to mitigate her obesity and knock off her cholesterol. That's a lot of Cheerios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course they hide this documentary on lifetime, or oxygen, or whatever channel that was. This way, tons of women can laugh and smirk as they eagerly await the day that they too can admittedly be intolerable.  You'd think some responsible member of the staff would push to have the broadcast moved to some channel that guys actually watch. Strategically decreasing the net total of weddings annually while singlehandedly  decreasing the divorce rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since they won't, i will. Don't get married. if you're already married... eh, oh well. (of course i'm joking.........)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-4078372055437386852?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/4078372055437386852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=4078372055437386852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/4078372055437386852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/4078372055437386852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/09/reality-tv.html' title='Reality? TV.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-8332043079456947011</id><published>2009-09-02T21:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T21:10:33.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The death of... someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I actually wrote this entry about 2 months ago. I typed it up and i thought... too soon.  Now, i think it's fine.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;Sidenote:  i discovered that my blog now has 1 follower, that made my day. Enjoy the previously unreleased masterpiece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;Back to blogging after a long and unplanned hiatus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Imagine my surprise when I got a text message today saying that the king of pop, the master of the moonwalk, the sultan of the skin change, was dead. Alas, after years of making music MJ is no longer with us. Then imagine my surprise to find out that he wasn't dead, just in a coma... only to find out that he was dead. Sheesh! HEADLINE NEWS? ... for me? not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;It's a sad thing to see any human being die, to see the flame of life extinguished. Especially in this case where the individual can be said to have died before his time (if 50 is still considered young that is). But honestly, is this news?  Earlier this week I went into work  only to be bombarded with ticker feeds alerting me to the death of Ed McMahon. To montages of McMahon and his long forgotten late show.. and i asked the same question... is this news?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Honestly, I can appreciate that in some regard, and to some people, these individuals have had a tremendous impact. In fact, MJ even wanted to Heal The World. Go MJ. McMahon? He brightened someone's day every sunday morning with that big over-sized check, that no bank would cash. But is this news? Twitter Feeds, Facebook Statuses, Text Messages.. the digital age thudding with the latest info.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Hey, whatever happened to the Swine Flu? AIDS?  What about the War? You know, the wars we're fighting on two fronts? Injustice? Anything going on at the White House today?  The destruction of a people in Africa? The recession that we may or may not be recovering from? Ehh i guess that all pales in comparison to these latest headlines. .. how many people die everyday? How many get coverage on CNN? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&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/3043681243352301455-8332043079456947011?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/8332043079456947011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=8332043079456947011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/8332043079456947011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/8332043079456947011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/06/death-of-someone.html' title='The death of... someone'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-4145935298986641225</id><published>2009-02-10T22:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T23:43:03.891-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Career? Fair.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Today i had the privelage of volunteering ath the Hampton Youth Career Expo, an experience that i will most likely remember for quite some time.  I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I was out there harassing folks with "cross into the blue" pamphlets and trying to stuff kids into F-22 seats, and you're incorrect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I was given the opportunity to give mock interviews to about 30 or so high school juniors and seniors.  It was really interesting to be able to delve into their minds, even if just for a few moments. Some things i heard today troubled me greatly, some things inspired me beyond belief.  If you've ever read my blog before, you know it's not beneath me to take a few shots at the kids with whom i interfaced today... but I'll try not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I did notice is that there is an enormous gap between the cream of the crop and the "i'm-just-thankful-to-be-graduating" students.  I'm talking tremendous gap, gap between Fantatsia's pre-dentalwork teeth gap.  Some kids sat down with college acceptance letters in hand, majors chosen, and five year plans mapped out.  Some kids didn't know what a mock interview was (sorry my dude, there is no job offer at the end of this thing).  Some saw themselves on wallstreet  making moves with corporate juggernauts, and for some the 10 year outlook was simply "hopefully i'll have a job and be making car payments."  You've really got to ask yourself what the hell are these kids being taught, where their dream life is a job (any job will do I suppose) and car payments. I prefer hearing the cliche NBA, NFL dreams than to hear it's my dream to struggle.  Who the fuck dreams of struggle?  Kids at this career fair just witnessed the inauguration of the first black President and still haven't developed aspirations greater than the bondage that is debt.  It pains me to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that the "i'm just thankful to graduate" students are dumb.  In just speaking with them for a few minutes it's easy to tell that there is an entire group of intelligent, respectful, and resourceful students that are simply not being reached. Teachers, earn your pay. Remember, today's loafer is tomorrow's stick up kid.  And who wants that? On a side note, what ever happened to Book It?  Remember when the promise of a personal pan pepperoni pizza could motivate you to read?  Where did those days go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every great accomplishment comes greater expectations.  The bar is set much higher, and it's obvious that we all have to work together to reach it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-4145935298986641225?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/4145935298986641225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=4145935298986641225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/4145935298986641225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/4145935298986641225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/02/career-fair.html' title='Career? Fair.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3043681243352301455.post-789012359733883760</id><published>2009-01-05T18:28:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T20:14:55.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Things I Hate About You! (ode to 08)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;In the true spirit of of New Year's I elect not to make a resolution, but to take a few moments out to reflect on 2008. (albeit a few days late).Here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. GEORGE W. BUSH - Now i could sit here and type incessantly about everything that Bush has done wrong. I could set my self up to have political debate, after debate, after debate about our Country's steady 8 year decline. But that's not what this is about. While many people see 'W' as a symbol of stupidity, I will acknowledge the man for what he is: A Beacon of Hope. Easy killers, before you go getting all wound up, think about it. George Bush epitomizes hope, even more so than (Dare I Say it?) Barack Obama.  Bush proves that no matter how backwards-assed, moronic, or infantile someone may be; they can still become whatever they want! So please don't shoot down Jim or Sue's dreams in 09.  If Bush can do it, anyone can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. UGG BOOTS - On a really serious note, these are BY FAR the worst thing I've ever seen.  High topped moccasins (or worse) for about $100 a pop.  If I see one girl/woman/mother/grandmother/child/idiot wearing Uggs in '09 i will promptly kidnap them, get them high on peyote, drop them off in the nearest forest with a rawhide dress and a bow and arrow. Want to look the part? Play the part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. RAP SONGS WITH CHOREOGRAPHED DANCES - 08 Had more than enough. If you're sitting at home making youtube videos of yourself doing said choreographed dances, kill yourself. Your mom will appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. FACEBOOK UPDATES - I wouldn't sit here and pretend that I don't update my facebook status. Matter of fact, I'll probably update my status as soon as I finish this blog entry. But, if you use Facebook as your personal play by play (ie Johnny is eating, Johnny is digesting, Johnny is dropping a deuce, Johnny is wiping his ass), i gotta say it's time for you to move on.  College doesn't last forever... go get a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. RESOLUTION MAKERS - trust me, there is nothing magical about the first of January. If you've been doing something for at least a year just keep on doing it. No sense of killing yourself AND lying to yourself in the process. Just live your life, you only get one anyway. . . who cares how short you make it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-789012359733883760?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/789012359733883760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=789012359733883760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/789012359733883760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/789012359733883760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2009/01/5-things-i-hate-about-you-ode-to-08.html' title='5 Things I Hate About You! (ode to 08)'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3043681243352301455.post-6968520241603129140</id><published>2008-11-02T23:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T23:44:42.819-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lazy bum'/><title type='text'>Lazy Bum</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Ctest%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="Street"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="address"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recently a buddy and I were walking along a downtown &lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;Greensboro   street&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt; and, by no influence of our own, are approached by a lazy bum. This is not a "lazy bum" in the sense of someone sitting at their desk reading an amazing blog (thanks for your support)while they should be working, but a lazy bum literally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I know ya'll gonna smoke a blunt with a broth&lt;/span&gt;a'&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. I know I'm not as smart as you guys but..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The replies to this lazy bum's comments are pretty much along the lines of sorry bum, we're not going to smoke a blunt with you and you're right... you're not as smart as we are. But I'm paraphrasing of course. What really shocked me about this guy is that he put forth just enough effort to be a lazy ass bum and not a bit more. His statement implies at the least, 3 things that are Unsat:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. I'm going to smoke a blunt with a random homeless guy. False. If I were smoking, I wouldn't let a bum hit my blunt, the hell does he think this is? the 70's ??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. That throwing in 'with a brother' would evoke some sort of sympathy. False. It only made me want to stab him in the eye with my keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c. That we were smarter than he was. True.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not because we happened to have attended college. Just because we happened not to be lazy ass bums who don't beg for change but beg for weed instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what really grinds my gears about the whole thing? This proves that we are truly in an age of instant gratification. Here we have a guy who most likely has no job, gets to hang out all day, and probably makes no real contribution to society. I know that these are assumptions of the worst kind... but these are based soley on the first impression. So Mr. Lazy Ass Bum, after a hard day of doing nothing, can't even muster the energy to form an intelligible sentence and ask for some spare change? It would be a far too difficult task to ask several people for loose change to accomplish the overall goal of getting high; Instead, this guy decides to beg that someone completely relinquish their investments (10 bucks, the effort of rolling, and their time) so he can reap all the benefits. What kind of world are we living in where even people who don't work feel like they're entitiled to something? It's a sad, sad day when you can't even get a bum to beg for change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Next thing you know there will be kids expecting to get diplomas without learning to read, or women expecting to get half a guy's belongings without putting an effort into the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Wait...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least this guy had the decency to make a sign&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.prosoundweb.com/fun/Photofun/21-beer-money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 440px; height: 385px;" src="http://www.prosoundweb.com/fun/Photofun/21-beer-money.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-6968520241603129140?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/6968520241603129140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=6968520241603129140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6968520241603129140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6968520241603129140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/11/lazy-bum_02.html' title='Lazy Bum'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-9203186831562074195</id><published>2008-08-28T17:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T18:43:57.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School... Bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A major problem facing our society is the inefficient school 'system' that we've got in place.  Honestly, we're failing the next generation. (truth be told my generation ain't so hot itself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you're unfamiliar with the infamous "no child left behind" act in place right now I'll give you a quick breakdown:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a.)  Kids go to sub-par schools with inadequate teachers in laughable conditions and take biased standardized test from the "temporary classroom" with their 34 classmates.&lt;br /&gt;b.)  Kids fail said standardized test, performing way below the average, and the school gets a letter saying straighten up or the government's coming to take names and kick asses.&lt;br /&gt;c.)  Kids continue to struggle with the material that they're never being taught, yet tested on, and continue to fail at embarrassing rates.&lt;br /&gt;d.) Government steps in and takes over. Commence kicking of asses and taking of names&lt;br /&gt;e.)  Funding is routed away from the school, Kids continue to fail, Government Laughs.&lt;br /&gt;f.)   Kids make careers of Taco Bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The high point of the NCLB - or nickelbee as pompous idiots call it - is that the kids work at Taco Bell. So at least, at the end of the day they have warm quesadillas and challupas to take home to their families. The downside is that the kids can't count, so if the register at Taco Bell ever goes on the fritz, they'd better hope that Burger King is hiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In what crazy parallel universe does it make sense to take money away from kids who are doing poorly and give it to kids who are already lightyears past the mark?  If the school's already the size of a small village, is there really a need for a science annex? If a kid has to walk through a trailer park styled collection of 'temps' just to find his classroom, I don't blame him for skipping school on snow days. It's school, not an arctic expedition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, it's not rocket science. If Rickey Smiley and Bruce Bruce were standing in a room who would you give a donut to first? If you said Bruce Bruce, I'd advise you to take the nearest sharp object and jam it into your eye socket. Bruce might want the donut more than Rickey, but if Rickey doesn't eat - dude is a goner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously people, we've got to do something about the bureaucracy going on here.  It doesn't take much to see that "no child left behind" is  and has always been a scam. So are a bunch of other things going down right now, that we obviously aren't paying too much attention to.  For the love of God wake up.... because i'm sick of this kid fucking up my change at the drive-thru!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-9203186831562074195?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/9203186831562074195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=9203186831562074195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9203186831562074195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/9203186831562074195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/08/school-bored.html' title='School... Bored'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-3502921697665115578</id><published>2008-08-27T17:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T18:15:19.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hostage.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today while leaving work I came face to face with a hostage-taking terrorist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not speaking like al-qaeda terrorist group type hostage takers, I''m talking sit-at-the-desk-outside-of-your-office hostage takers.  If you don't have an office they'll sit outside your room door, or next to your lunch table, or somewhere in the near vicinity.  Hostage takers are those people who you speak to in passing, and BOOM, you're trapped. A professional Okie Doke artist. You think you're going for the cordial greeting and the next thing you know you are held in a no-holds-barred struggle for your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact: 3 out of 5 individuals are hostage-takers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know anyone who takes hostages, it's you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I being held against my will when all I'd like to do is walk from my office door to my car door and drive away from you? Honestly everyone knows "how's it going?" is not a true invitation to tell me how it's going.  If the hostage takers weren't savages of the worst kind they would acknowledge this and let me go about my day. No such Luck. Today it took 15 minutes to walk , roughly, 50 yards because 14.86 minutes were usurped by pointless and altogether mind-numbing conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trapped. As if she didn't notice the glances at my wrist (where a watch would be if I wore one) or my steady and not so stealthy inching toward the doorway. I couldn't get away. It took every ounce of energy I had not to bolt across the room and out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I don't care about the family you have  in a different state, or care that two decades ago you had really long hair. It's not that I'm not concerned about what you ate for dinner last night or how much you enjoyed the obscure tv show you watched at 4AM.  Wait, Actually, it is.  I don't care.  It doesn't matter - especially after 4 O'Clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-3502921697665115578?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/3502921697665115578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=3502921697665115578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3502921697665115578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/3502921697665115578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/08/hostage.html' title='Hostage.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-1488993135416310063</id><published>2008-08-25T21:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T22:02:54.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unholy Religion...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've definitely grown beyond tired of people using this whole religion thing as a means to hoist themselves above the rest of the world.  As if blindly believing in some mythical being makes you, in some mildly retarded manner, better than someone else.  Don't get me wrong, i'm not an athiest. i do believe. i am a christian. i am also a realist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder at what point religion made the shift from belief to passtime.  Way back when your grandma and grandpa walked all over tarnation just to go to church, it meant something.  Religion was the rock, the source of strength, the 'insert random hymn lyric here'.  Nowadays religion's like an extra-curricular activity, or better yet, a chore.  No matter what kind of fucked up, roller-ish, dirty dude type shit we've done during the week, we always seem to plop ourselves in the back row of the church on Sunday don't we?  Walking contradictions. It's funny how people who claim to believe in an omniscient higher power seem to think that he (or she, i mean who knows?) doesn't see what goes down during the work week.  As if from Monday to Saturday God's on the beach sippin margaritas so he doesn't get around to checking out what you're doing.  Doesn't seem too logical does it? (but hey in our defense... neither does religion)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that there aren't people who have true bonds and true walks with God. I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with going to church, reading scripture, praying, or praising.  But, at some point i really think we need to wake up and make religion more than a means to qualify ourselves as 'good people'. At some point you've got to wonder why there are five offerings in one service, an ATM out front, and commercials in between program bullets.  At some point we've got to wonder  how we can sit through hour long sermons without one mention of a single scripture.  Or wonder why preachers push navigators and fly in G4's while their congregation push shopping carts with all their possessions in it and ride the bus.  At some point we've got to wonder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe we don't. Maybe we don't wonder or question or contend or refute. Maybe we accept it. Blindly. Maybe that's what religion is all about nowadays anyway... blind faith.  Maybe if we believe that sitting in a building on a sunday will wipe away the actions of the week, then it'll be so. Maybe if we believe that dropping a tithe in a bucket equals pearly gate admittance then it  will be so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... But you should probably pray on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-1488993135416310063?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/1488993135416310063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=1488993135416310063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1488993135416310063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/1488993135416310063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/08/unholy-religion.html' title='Unholy Religion...'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3043681243352301455.post-6526108484148248932</id><published>2008-08-23T22:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T23:05:07.755-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Olympics.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As the Olympic games start to wind down, i'm sure that everyone out there has been privileged enough to catch a game or two. As the US starts to wrap up the medal race there is only one question that i could think to ask... What the Hell is This?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am i the only person who thinks the olympics is the biggest load of cow feces to ever completely take over television?  The olympics is like the illegitimate lovechild of Dr. Phil and Little House on the Prairie.  I was informed recently that there is actually a speed-walking competition! Really? Speed-walking? So there is a competition to see who the worlds best walk-as-fast-as-you-can-without-running-er is? What's even worse than that is there are actually people who have spent their life training for this extremely grueling event.  I wonder how you decide to be an olympic speed-walker? How do you tell your friends that this is the life you've chosen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey Jim, let's go, we're gonna get WASTED!!"&lt;br /&gt;"Nah, sorry guys i can't, i have to get up early and go do laps around the mall before the food court opens"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, this post is more than just a rant about the extreme stupidity of the olympics.  It's really about our society's decision to accept and reward mediocrity.  We wouldn't want to make anyone feel bad right?  It's okay Jim we know that you couldn't run the 40 to save your life so we'll give you a prize for being able to walk really quickly for a really long time.  I love the USA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and just in case you thought i was making it up[a five second clip is all i could stand]:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZO3bEuEgfk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZO3bEuEgfk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-6526108484148248932?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/6526108484148248932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=6526108484148248932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6526108484148248932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/6526108484148248932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/08/olympics.html' title='The Olympics.'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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-3043681243352301455.post-7521488430316843661</id><published>2008-07-31T15:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T23:16:10.619-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Vision'/><title type='text'>The Vision</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really this post is mainly to test my page layout... (a layout that i believe to be pretty snazzy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate you dropping by though. Read, Comment, all that good stuff.  Whatever helps to pass the time right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could promise that this blog would be something amazing, something awe-striking, thought-provoking, or even interesting.. but i can't.  Well, i could, but i'm not a politician. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3043681243352301455-7521488430316843661?l=speaksinink.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/feeds/7521488430316843661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3043681243352301455&amp;postID=7521488430316843661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/7521488430316843661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3043681243352301455/posts/default/7521488430316843661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://speaksinink.blogspot.com/2008/07/vision.html' title='The Vision'/><author><name>Speaks In Ink!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12062334951901231574</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></feed>
