<?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-3756562</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:36:32.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Girl That Cynicism Built</title><subtitle type='html'>This is the girl that cynicism built. This is the journal that is written by the girl that cynicism built. This is the description that introduces the journal that is written by the girl that cynicism built. These are the words which are in the description that introduces the journal- caught onto the pattern yet? Good, I'll shut up then.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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>135</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-105815410982344972</id><published>2003-07-13T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:08:10.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I haven't been around this page for so long now that even the entire blogger system has changed its look before I knew about it. There appears to be an odd looking green desktop as my background image. I don't really like it, but I can't be bothered to change it. I just stopped caring about this page for the most part, the only reason I made it in the first place was as a way to practice html. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/105815410982344972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/105815410982344972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/07/i-havent-been-around-this-page-for-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-94361696</id><published>2003-05-14T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T18:15:01.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Parts of my life are becoming increasingly parallel to Beckett's existential work Waiting for Godot. It can be extremely frustrating to feel like you're helplessly, cluelessly waiting for the unattainable. I'd move on, but I'm stubborn as hell and once I've realized how incredible something can be, I tend not to let go of it, even if it was never in my grasp in the first place. Which leaves my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/94361696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/94361696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/05/parts-of-my-life-are-becoming.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-93826953</id><published>2003-05-05T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>mmm... large, red, delicious, hormone shot-up strawberries...Who says natural is always better? I haven't written for awhile, as one could easily tell by looking down to the date of the immediately proceeding entry. Haven't really had a lot to say, to be honest. Not like I've waited for a bit of exceptional insight to come by and slap me around a bit before all my other entries, but regardless-</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93826953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93826953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/05/mmm.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-93351421</id><published>2003-04-27T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>People are, in fact, a renewable resource.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93351421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93351421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/people-are-in-fact-renewable-resource.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-93348611</id><published>2003-04-27T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T01:58:39.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My brother rules    Andrew's a 14 year old kid, in his last year at Rosemont Middle School, the junior high I went to and consequently learned to loathe deeply. I guess technically that makes him a "rosemonster" as is the common label given by the junior high graduated and completely matured students attending CVHS.  He's tall for his age- almost 5'8"-  and thin but not overly skinny, with wavy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93348611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/93348611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/my-brother-rules-14-year-old-kid-in-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92940812</id><published>2003-04-20T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>::controversial essay in progress, check back later::</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92940812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92940812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/controversial-essay-in-progress-check.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92938983</id><published>2003-04-20T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>(ripped from a livejournal I now read, whose owner ripped it from a forward, which was started by a person who ripped it from where ever it was originally published. And Happy Easter to everyone, Christian and non-Christian!)For those of you that are not following the recent controversy that has to do with Laura Schlessinger: she is a radio personality who dispenses Advice to people who call in</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92938983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92938983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/ripped-from-livejournal-i-now-read.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92323103</id><published>2003-04-09T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T18:23:47.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>...and breathe outWhew... that was dumb. Really, really, really dumb. At least now I learned a valuable lesson- to always keep a back-up of my template on the hard drive, in case I do something stupid and accidentally delete it online...like I did 3 hours ago. It's a 12 page code, and even using the help of google's cached snapshot of my webpage from December, it was hard to figure out again. But</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92323103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92323103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92307784</id><published>2003-04-09T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My family isn't functioning anymore.Yesterday my mother made a coffee cake... but my dad didn't make the coffee.And today, my dad got up earlier and made the coffee... but there was no cake.I really don't understand why things like this have to happen... I feel like my whole world is falling apart...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92307784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92307784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/my-family-isnt-functioning-anymore.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92194037</id><published>2003-04-07T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Some of take longer than others to separate our pack aggression instincts from humanity. I'm still seeing the mentality of school yard gang-ups at my age, and I've heard they're out there in the adult world as well. Some people take longer to get it than others. Another advantage of being a lone wolf, my fears or feelings of being prey of that sort don't enter the equation, and I can learn to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92194037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92194037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/some-of-take-longer-than-others-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-92108257</id><published>2003-04-06T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>We placed 4th. Which is pretty good, as the whole DTASC festival is really competitive, and a lot of the groups put in way more time than we do, and this particular category is one of those that's harder for our school to do, because it tends to be about loud, in your face singing, and lightning fast blocking changes which takes more time than we put in. But I wasn't thrilled with our placement. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92108257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/92108257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/we-placed-4th.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-91808602</id><published>2003-04-01T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If at first you don’t fricassee- fry, fry a hen.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91808602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91808602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/04/if-at-first-you-dont-fricassee-fry-fry.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-91752762</id><published>2003-03-31T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was kinda touched today by how many people show concern when I lose my straight face in public. I mean, I would rather keep control over all, but still... it's nice to know people care, even if some of them think I'm being an idiot.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91752762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91752762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/i-was-kinda-touched-today-by-how-many.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-91695118</id><published>2003-03-30T23:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Just like the icon of women leaves us girls to believe we're suppose to aim for big breasts, tanned skin, long legs, and tiny waists, our media has brought the symbol of masculinity to amount to this:and this:Which is silly, unnatural, and also just plain disturbing. And not to let my judgement be distorted by stereotypes, but with the hours these types spend to look this...scary... what </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91695118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91695118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/just-like-icon-of-women-leaves-us-girls.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-91230691</id><published>2003-03-23T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    "Hey! You look different!"    I glance down briefly at my wrinkled jeans I pulled off the floor before coming over and one of my many old black T-shirts, then back, with a slightly bemused expression. "Really?"    "Yeah, your face looks good today, did you get more sleep or something?"    I reward this comment with another bemused expression, "I think I slept a long time yesterday, yeah...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91230691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91230691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/hey-you-look-different-i-glance-down.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-91105782</id><published>2003-03-20T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>taste the rainbow...errr, ok...OH! Oh, God! It burns!! You sick freak!Sour skittles rule. You must realize though, the burning sensation on your tongue is the best part.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91105782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/91105782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/taste-rainbow.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90798132</id><published>2003-03-16T00:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I swear I'm not as dangerous as you've been warned... I'm just a minor looking for ways to be good enough- crying herself to sleep for the first time in years. I'm vulnerable sometimes too, but I promise if there's something that wrong with me, it's not contagious- I would never let it be.Yay for highlighting...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90798132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90798132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/i-swear-im-not-as-dangerous-as-youve.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90772109</id><published>2003-03-15T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T04:53:44.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Coolcollie: Riff says you should get sleept3chnexx: Oh, well if RIFF says so...Coolcollie: And Riff knows everything...Coolcollie: Except not to eat dirtt3chnexx: LOLCoolcollie: we're still working on that... but he knows everything elseFor those of you who haven't heard, I have a new puppy. The cutest guy ever- a 6 lbs, incredably soft and fluffy sheltie with a black and white coat. And he's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90772109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90772109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/coolcollie-riff-says-you-should-get.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90771509</id><published>2003-03-15T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hey! HEY! no one reads this anymore... blah. Have I officially worn out my internet welcome?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90771509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90771509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/hey-hey-no-one-reads-this-anymore.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90738869</id><published>2003-03-14T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why isn't there a law against impersonating a god?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90738869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90738869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/why-isnt-there-law-against.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90632320</id><published>2003-03-12T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>audblog audio post</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90632320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90632320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/audblog-audio-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90629012</id><published>2003-03-12T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The generalized high school version of the "pyramid of social hierarchy" I'm guessing most browsers (by which I mean the individuals at their comps, not versions of netscape or I.E.) of of my site will be familiar with this concept, particular those who have experienced any form of English literature class. For those who are lost, it's the idea of power based on race/gender as illustrated in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90629012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90629012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/generalized-high-school-version-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90526161</id><published>2003-03-11T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"I love deadlines. I like the wooshing sound they make as they fly by." -Douglas Adams  I need to get my act together. Faster. I finally have the desire to do so... just not the organization skills nor enough initiative. Maybe I am subconsciously doing this to myself as a form passive resistance- to what, I don't know. The idea of high school in general, perhaps? Perhaps I really do need to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90526161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90526161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/i-love-deadlines.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-90274254</id><published>2003-03-06T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>New Year's Pictures from San Francisco are up! If the link doesn't work, go to: picturetrail.com and under "visit member album" on the left side, type in "fordprefectskid"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90274254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/90274254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/03/new-years-pictures-from-san-francisco.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89868562</id><published>2003-02-27T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.647-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion." -Tennessee Williams It's too bad that some of the best jokes of life are the ones you can't fully share... if you choose to risk sharing them at all. I suppose it spoils the "diguise of illusion."  Although sometimes taking the truth and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89868562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89868562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/i-am-opposite-of-stage-magician.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89690901</id><published>2003-02-24T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>cheating... with a random survey from a friend's page...What does your name mean? "God's gift." Cheap SOB, huh?How old are you? 17How old are you mentally (as in are you mature?)? The random people I talk to online usually think I'm in my 30s for some reason... as for my own opinion, I have no clue.Describe yourself in 5 words. See the title of my webpage. It's five words, including the "the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89690901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89690901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/cheating.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89469615</id><published>2003-02-20T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"This must be Thursday...I never could get the hang of Thursdays...."    On this particular Thursday, I once again was thinking on a quote people who have read my AIM profile in the past couple of weeks will already be familiar with: "See, the trouble is, natural selection doesn't really select for much of anything anymore except for promiscuity. (The Darwin awards are an exception, but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89469615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89469615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/this-must-be-thursday.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89161243</id><published>2003-02-15T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair." -Douglas Adams, Mostly HarmlessApple computers does not have this problem. They make emergency fixes for everything, no matter how ingenius the model is. The people who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89161243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89161243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/major-difference-between-thing-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89060030</id><published>2003-02-13T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Late night condensation put the mist in "mistifying." The fact that late night condensation is not a good speller is irrelevant.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89060030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89060030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/late-night-condensation-put-mist-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-89059858</id><published>2003-02-13T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One could view the way I so easily and almost naturally tweak my emotions as dangerous, disturbing, miraculous, or a combination of the three. It leads me to doubt whether many of them would even be there if I didn't have some reason to want them to surface. I see someone holding a strong feeling towards me on their sleeves, and I adapt it to fit what I see as my own personality and throw it back</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89059858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/89059858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/one-could-view-way-i-so-easily-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-88891739</id><published>2003-02-10T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Why do we always come here? I guess we'll never know... it's like a kind of torture- to have to watch this show." -Muppets</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88891739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88891739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/why-do-we-always-come-here-i-guess-well.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-88816304</id><published>2003-02-09T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's strange how so many of us try to run from out past... only to find we can't live without it."'Hypocrites, I said to them," said Jason. "You dare to rob mankind of all its pain, yet you treasure your own agonies. Who Watches you?'And they saw in Jason's mind the things he treasured most, the memories that were strongest, and they were all the times of fear and hunger, pain and grief. And </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88816304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88816304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/its-strange-how-so-many-of-us-try-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-88383262</id><published>2003-02-01T09:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.757-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm slacking off by just posting links instead of writing, I know... but this is just too funny.AUSTRALIA GETS DRUNK, WAKES UP IN NORTH ATLANTIC</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88383262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88383262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/02/im-slacking-off-by-just-posting-links.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-88137923</id><published>2003-01-27T20:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This startled me quite a bit... it's worth looking at though, very interesting:zephid.mag.attis.at/picx/STRANGE.gif</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88137923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88137923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/this-startled-me-quite-bit.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-88015367</id><published>2003-01-25T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It seems ironic that the most beautiful people I know have the ugliest lives. Are these two things connected, and if so, which causes which? If one of my friends were to have a normal happy, home life, would she be as gorgeously intricate, inside and out,  as she is now? Or would she just be another kinda pretty face? My two sisters are incredably beautiful... I hope this isn't an indication that</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88015367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/88015367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/it-seems-ironic-that-most-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87824070</id><published>2003-01-21T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.789-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today's topic: the human egoAs I lack an extreme sexist viewpoint, excessive facial hair, and any more than a 25% German descendancy,  I'll avoid going into a Freudian analysis here. Not that I'll pretend to know much more about the guy than given by his frequently portrayed stereotype, far from it in fact- which is exactly why I like to approach this subject with a pondering air rather than an</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87824070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87824070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/todays-topic-human-ego-as-i-lack.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87822802</id><published>2003-01-21T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NOBODY expects the Spanish inquisition!...or the high school administrative inquisition for that matter. But now that it's over and figured out, I can get back to my musings. Not to say there haven't been lapses before, but that was the reason for this one.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87822802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87822802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/nobody-expects-spanish-inquisition.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87647559</id><published>2003-01-18T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    I use to wish I had a livejournal... but any last spark of that desire burned out recently after browsing through thoughts of people I see almost every day at school. Wow... I guess I just never figured people so many of these people could secretly loathe each other to that extent. I mean, I knew there was plenty of cattiness to go around but...G'lord. These people honestly want to tear each </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87647559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87647559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/i-use-to-wish-i-had-livejournal.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87629718</id><published>2003-01-17T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pride is an obstacle. Drop it, and your life will get that much easier.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87629718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87629718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/pride-is-obstacle.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87574848</id><published>2003-01-16T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T06:06:43.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>::deleted::</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87574848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87574848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/deleted.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87572500</id><published>2003-01-16T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As I've written almost nothing of substance recently, I've thought about posting the most personal thing I've ever written on here. It's over a year old now, but it has some educational value too it. Although many would disagree with the points just because their beliefs state so strongly how wrong it is.... hmmm. I think I'll read it through, then decide.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87572500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87572500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/as-ive-written-almost-nothing-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87572205</id><published>2003-01-16T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Today I went to school wearing a shirt that actually showed I had a figure... wow, have I lost it? No... not really... I just fell asleep in it, and didn't have time to change in the morning. I got surprisingly a lot of comments on it, but to keep my ego and eating disorder potential in check I had to go home and eat things with calories....aka, no aspartame filled diet drinks.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87572205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87572205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/today-i-went-to-school-wearing-shirt.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-87402842</id><published>2003-01-13T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    Haven't posted in a while... if anyone cares, I apologize, really I do, it's just that anytime I start writing here I seem to get kicked off the computer by my parents before I finish an entry.    Today I decided to walk all the way home from school, uphill with my 40 pound backpack. However, it seemed like a miracle walk since the time I walk around barefoot for 8 miles and limped the last </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87402842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/87402842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/havent-posted-in-while.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86975212</id><published>2003-01-05T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    I've been officially deprived of listening to music on the computer because, "listening to music is a privilege, and you haven't earned that privilege." So how exactly do I go about earning the privilege to listen to music? As far as I can make out, being born with eardrums is as far as one can go towards "earning" this privilege. Normally my computer experience would be left greatly empty </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86975212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86975212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2003/01/ive-been-officially-deprived-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86704030</id><published>2002-12-30T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, I'm off to San Fran for New Year's in about a half an hour ago. Hmmm... I think they're late. (They=Esther, Jeni, and Esther's parents). We're staying at a hotel right off the campus of Berkley, so in the theme of that I'd like to wish you all a "happEEEEE newwwww  yerrrrrrrr" and a great "fuckin' 2003, man... 2003... woah, dude..."  (No, NOT goodtimes, Cloneboy... you are too good for </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86704030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86704030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/so-im-off-to-san-fran-for-new-years-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86602899</id><published>2002-12-27T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>testing comments</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86602899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86602899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/testing-comments.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86598835</id><published>2002-12-27T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The perfect gift is:Something that can seclude it's owner from his/her environmentSomething small, and unobtrusiveSomething that can keep away all people, but at the seem time keep one entertainedSomething one can take anywhereSomething one can share the brilliance of with others when desired, but keep to oneself when feeling selfishSomething extremely desirable, yet unnoticable enough to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86598835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86598835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/perfect-gift-is-something-that-can.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86598573</id><published>2002-12-27T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T15:02:39.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Saw this, recognized it's brilliance... had to put it here. I'll ask permission later. :D"Hi. I'm sarcasm. Meet my friend and close associate, humor. We like to be recognized. When we're not and mistaken for silly truths, we get gosh darn mad. Often this happens at the hands of bleeding heart altruists. We don't like this, either. Now, since we're just conceptual nouns, we're not given the option</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86598573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86598573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/saw-this-recognized-its-brilliance.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86483243</id><published>2002-12-24T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    So.. I'm off to do some seriously last minute christmas shopping with my dad, who's been in a ridiculously bitchy mood lately. ("Seriously"... "ridiculously".. Sheesh, I seem to obsessively use adverbs in every sentence. I definitely need to cut back. Err...) He's been giving off stronger PMS vibes than my mom in the past couple days, and that's saying something. Last night for instance, when</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86483243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86483243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/so.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86411939</id><published>2002-12-22T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:06:43.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>    My grandmother, a psychologist (refraining from derogatory comments on the profession here, as I love the person), was talking about a report she'd seen recently which proved the benefits of a positive outlook on life. A national survey had shown that people who were generally happy with themselves had a 20% higher income, and as she began to remark how motivated one of her other sons, my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86411939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86411939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/12/my-grandmother-psychologist-refraining.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86409101</id><published>2002-12-22T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-23T17:55:50.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Ah, what happens between people happens, and after a while it doesn't matter how it started. But here it is. I'm here. You're there. We're in a room we've been in so many times before. Nothing seems changed ... I'm nothing too much: I'm like everybody else, the way I always was. I can have the things that other people have. I can have you, and children, and I can take care of them, and I can go </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86409101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86409101'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86302346</id><published>2002-12-19T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-21T15:33:36.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Gee... my friends and I are so uplifting..."The one thing I want to accomplish in life is to die.""But- you'll accomplish that no matter what!""I know! Isn't it great?!"-Jeni and Esther"I want to die, I want to die, I want to die! Death, Death, Death! I want to die, I want to die, I want to die! Death, death, death...(ect.)"-Esther's "happy song""Hey Jeni... I'll pay you five dollars to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86302346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86302346'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-86163707</id><published>2002-12-17T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-21T12:00:55.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So the dates are now set for May 30th, 31st, and June 1st, a friend of mine from Pasadena will be driving in to direct, the auditions will be open, and we can use the benefits of the auditorium without the casting judgements of school faculty. Anna will probably have a lot of the vote for casting, and she doesn't even go here, meaning we can throw previous biases out the window. And I know a few </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86163707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/86163707'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85718998</id><published>2002-12-09T00:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-23T20:04:47.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't believe I see myself as being any more misunderstood than any other human. I just think I have a more difficult time interacting successfully with people than most humans I know. And I often don't get a clear picture of how I feel about something until it's too late for me to do anything about it. I think that's a fairly accurate picture of myself.. does that mean I'm self-pitying? I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85718998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85718998'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85718677</id><published>2002-12-09T00:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-09T00:57:40.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Suppose you suddenly realize you've once again been holding an unrealistic view of yourself as an empathetic, misunderstood individual while jerking the people you love and respect around on chains, and you feel guilt-stricken, like you've been slapped in the face. So you shed a few tears for the errors of your ways and resolve to go out of your way to shut off your hypocrisy by forcing out </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85718677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85718677'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85577113</id><published>2002-12-05T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-05T21:27:37.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You know, as an eleven-year-old I was pretty well off. I talked above some of my teachers, I was musically advanced and gifted, I had a useful sense of humor, and being at the top of my classes wasn't extremely difficult. The thing is, it's over five years later and I haven't advanced much intellectually or artistically. And staying at the same level for so long has caused me to lose interest </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85577113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85577113'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85576582</id><published>2002-12-05T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-09T00:59:43.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sometimes I want to scream so badly it's almost painful. But I don't think I've screamed since I was an infant, and I'm not sure I would know how to do it. I started off elementary school by being somebody's shadow. I literally picked out a girl on the first day of kindergarten class to follow around. Why? Because she was holding a red balloon. And running around the classroom laughing while </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85576582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85576582'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85514336</id><published>2002-12-04T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-09T00:29:37.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why taking prescription meds with caffiene is a bad ideaTaking prescription meds with caffiene is a baad idea.. I shll now type out the resaons why. Just vgie me a second to stop sahking first.... heheh. I swaer my hands are vibbrating lik e a celllphonee. Sheesh..Twenty minutes  and a couple points lower on the Richter scale, and I'm now steady enough to type. Relativellyyy... Damn! Oh, well</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85514336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85514336'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85371182</id><published>2002-12-02T03:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-05T20:59:32.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hunting through the piles of papers and other junk on my floor, I found a stuffed lamb with a scraggly ribbon and matted coat. I wound up the music box in its tummy  and was somewhat surpised the tune "Mary had a little lamb" still played clearly, and also perfectly in tune after 14 and a half years. I don't remember the incident myself, but my mom told me once that I got it when I was two years </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85371182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85371182'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85312140</id><published>2002-11-30T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-04-12T19:10:01.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>::sigh:: Sometimes browsing through the journals of random individuals can be so damned disheartening. For all the net surfers who echo this sentiment after viewing my blog, I apologize. But, after reading a slice of life from a seemingly misled and, I'm also guessing, newly-turned vegetarian, I felt like elaborating on some rules of this diet as so many teen girls these days love to use it as an</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85312140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85312140'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85312055</id><published>2002-11-30T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-04T20:25:28.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh, and my site shows up on google again. :D</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85312055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85312055'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85305214</id><published>2002-11-30T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T18:46:45.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>::deleted::</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85305214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85305214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordprefectskid.blogspot.com/2002/11/deleted.html' title=''/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85275322</id><published>2002-11-29T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-02T14:38:41.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Oh, and how 'bout the infamous story where a woman is made from a rib? Now, that really sounds plausible...""Well, actually I think that one has some merit.""Oh, please... a rib? If I was descended from a rib, I think I would look somewhat differently.""Not necessarily. I mean, you're pale, too skinny, curved... sounds like a rib to me.""How am I curved?""Girls have curves...""Yeah, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85275322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85275322'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85198961</id><published>2002-11-27T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-27T22:36:44.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'd like to apologize for the ridiculous self-inflated image I gave myself in yesterday's post... I didn't lie, but I know it sounds extremely conceited. What can I say, I'll lose any form of modesty to prove a point if necessary.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85198961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85198961'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85132080</id><published>2002-11-26T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-27T22:25:38.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Please don't tell me what I can or can't do, when you don't know. Today is not the issue. It has nothing to do with today. It hurt worst when you confirmed what I'd already expected: you had already decided, before I even got to try, that I couldn't do it. And not even because of talent or ability, either... THAT I could have understood. THAT I could have accepted. Because it's LOGICAL! </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85132080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85132080'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-85029269</id><published>2002-11-24T17:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-26T15:42:05.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yesterday I was doing a search on Google and was both surprised and pleased to find that my online journal showed up. I felt like... I had been accepted. I now had an identity on the internet, my name could be found in the quintillions of characters of HTML. So, after a particularly annoying day today, I felt like cheering myself up by doing a quick search for "FordPrefectsKid." And... it wasn't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85029269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/85029269'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84987309</id><published>2002-11-23T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-27T21:18:41.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And God created woman and she had 3 breasts. He then asked the woman, "Is there anything you'd like to have changed?"She replied, "Yes, could you get rid of this middle breast?"And so it was done, and it was good.Then the woman exclaimed as she was holding the third breast in her hand," What can be done with this useless boob?"And God created man.(Believe me, I have nothing against the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84987309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84987309'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84987180</id><published>2002-11-23T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-27T21:21:49.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm so happy knowing that I'm going to be able to produce Neil Simon's Fools. With a ten person cast that's open to audtion to the entire school, and access to the auditorium and 2-story set pieces this could be a really good show. So, if you live in the Los Angeles area, keep your calendar free for either April 2nd, 3rd, or 4th. I'm going to have someone else direct too, because I want to try </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84987180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84987180'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84979447</id><published>2002-11-23T12:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-27T21:15:37.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If I want to stay in high school I need to start by turning in my work... :(    For which I have another source of motivation. I made a deal with Brian if I started making more of an effort with classwork, he'd watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Not much of a bargain I know: I get to work while I'm bored out of my mind, and he gets to laugh hysterically at the top genuises of British comedy (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84979447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84979447'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84645066</id><published>2002-11-16T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-16T19:33:45.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>They say a boy's voice changes through puberty, not overnight.... well, what about a girl's? After losing my voice yesterday, I woke up this morning to discover I am now a baritone. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84645066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84645066'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84606240</id><published>2002-11-15T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-15T20:09:41.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Top signs of illness for the high school student:You can't talk.Your throat feels like gravel.All sounds seems like they are transfered through some long underwater tube before they reach your ears.You walk out of the house carrying your shoes, and continue walking for three blocks before you notice you can feel the sidewalk with your toes.You cough. A lot.When you do talk, you sound like the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84606240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84606240'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84558004</id><published>2002-11-14T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-14T19:31:45.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, so much for auditioning the acapella group today... I, wasn't really the one who snapped either, I more... broke. After being snapped at. The pent up frustration just break out when I'm startled that much... I also went off a bit on Tuesday at comedy sportz too, although that wasn't nearly as humiliating. That time I just... well, sort of acted like Chelsea actually. Normally I'm able to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84558004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84558004'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84505172</id><published>2002-11-13T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-13T19:16:44.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sheesh, I'm supposed to have the acapella group memorized and rehearsed by December for the Christmas Carol... and I haven't even PICKED OUT the quartets yet. See, the problem is... I need to find 4 people who can hold parts on their own, and one of them has to be a guy, for 5 different songs. In the drama department of a public high school that's nearly impossible. Gah... why did Mike have to be</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84505172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84505172'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84504668</id><published>2002-11-13T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-13T19:04:45.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The mentally instable rock #1The mentally instable rock #2The mentally instable rock #3The mentally instable rock #4</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84504668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84504668'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84378213</id><published>2002-11-11T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T12:27:44.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>By doing a search with google I wasn't able to find a friend I met last year, but I found a find a friend of an older sister of that friend, who has an extremely elaborate website with a paragraph on pretty much every person she knows (thus the connection I was able to find). I put her AIM name on my buddy list, so I could ask her if she could possibly give my email address to my old friend so </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84378213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84378213'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84377505</id><published>2002-11-11T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T12:15:16.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oooh, I remember seeing this page a couple years ago. It's still worth a look now:Yay for stupidity of the human race</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84377505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84377505'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84323069</id><published>2002-11-10T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T14:00:53.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Haven't updated in a few days... well, my life has pretty much stayed the same plateau. Except I've reconnected with a friend who I quite enjoy talking to on the phone. I think we discovered the trick last night to making long phone conversations successful is to both be on the computer at the same time. That way we've got the benefits of both phone and instant messages- we can hear inflections </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84323069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84323069'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-84040465</id><published>2002-11-04T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T11:43:10.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was skimming through some random person's blog today and I was pleased to see the phrase "I read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." Naturally, this caught my attention so I continued reading to see comments on how hysterical it was, how Zaphod is possibly the funniest bastard in the universe, how hoopy Ford Prefect is, how much they relate to Marvin, how Douglas Adams is a frickin' genius..</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84040465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/84040465'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83973703</id><published>2002-11-03T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T11:42:29.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ok, I have finished. I have sinned. I have posted so many online quiz results I want to scream. Now, I shall never do that again. Never. Never, ever, ever, ever again. ::dies::</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973703'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83973417</id><published>2002-11-03T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-05T21:53:46.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Take the What High SchoolStereotype Are You?.Really? And I thought everyone loved me. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973417'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83973281</id><published>2002-11-03T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T12:09:33.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Which Personality Disorder Do You Have? brought to you by QuizillaYes, and I'm also in denial.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973281'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83973244</id><published>2002-11-03T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-05T21:57:06.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What Type of Friend are You?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83973244'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83972917</id><published>2002-11-03T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T14:20:26.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--copy this code into your page--&gt;I am 43% evil.Take the test :: koolplace.comBut I don't believe in it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972917'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83972817</id><published>2002-11-03T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T14:17:57.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>But I'm not pink. I HATE pink.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972817'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83972742</id><published>2002-11-03T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T14:15:46.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> What kind of punk kid are you? brought to you by QuizillaBut I'm not punk!!!! Eh, what do I expect to be labeled form the title of the quiz? Besides, I don't really think I know what punk is.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972742'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83972676</id><published>2002-11-03T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-05T21:58:42.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What Type of Villain are You?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972676'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83972124</id><published>2002-11-03T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T14:05:46.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Which HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy character are you? brought to you by QuizillaOk, now this pisses me off. First of all, Ford Prefect is better looking than that. And secondly, in the description they said he's boring. Excuse me? Jumping out of an office building just to throw people off guard and amazingly saving yourself with a pair of shoes is BORING?!?! Ford is one hoopy frood, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83972124'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83971948</id><published>2002-11-03T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-05T22:03:37.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Which HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy character are you?Nooo! Ok, it makes sense... but Trillian's the most boring character. I want Ford Prefect! I'm gonna take it again.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971948'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83971699</id><published>2002-11-03T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T13:47:09.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> what Monty python sketch are you? brought to you by QuizillaAnd of course, everyone should take this quiz...Yes you should. You're wrong. Shut up!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971699'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83971688</id><published>2002-11-03T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T13:46:35.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> What Monty Python Holy Grail Quest Character are You? brought to you by QuizillaDifferent Quiz, same answer. I think this is the better of the Holy Grail quizes, though. Jeni should take it. So should Winnie and Mike.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971688'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83971551</id><published>2002-11-03T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T13:42:44.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> What character in Monty Python and the Holy Grail are you? brought to you by QuizillaThis one didn't take me very long to find. Heehee, I love John Cleese.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971551'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83971452</id><published>2002-11-03T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T13:39:19.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> which mr. show genius are you? brought to you by QuizillaThis one took me awhile to find. I think Thad should take it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83971452'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83970572</id><published>2002-11-03T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T13:56:45.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  See which Greek Goddess you are.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83970572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83970572'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83970153</id><published>2002-11-03T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T13:57:09.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My brother got on for a while, and interupted my rampage of quiz posting power. But never fear, I can make up for lost time. First I have to get this quiz site loading faster... ARG!!!! Must...post..useless...quiz...results...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83970153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83970153'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83969964</id><published>2002-11-03T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T12:56:29.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> *Are You in Love?* brought to you by QuizillaWow! It's a startling revelation! How'd they know about me and Thad?!? They're psychic!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969964'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83969496</id><published>2002-11-03T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T12:42:18.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> What Is Your True Aura Colour? brought to you by QuizillaUm, sure...And yet, this must mean something... For god's sake, I found it ONLINE! It is infalliable!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969496'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83969376</id><published>2002-11-03T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T12:39:02.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> * Which Tragic Shakespearean Heroin are You? * brought to you by QuizillaHmmm, I thought I'd get Ophelia for sure.Online quizes begin to take over my soul...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969376'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83969235</id><published>2002-11-03T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-10T13:58:40.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> What kind of porno would you star in? brought to you by QuizillaSure, why not?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83969235'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83968646</id><published>2002-11-03T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-03T12:17:42.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am bored. So I will now commit the worst crime of online journals, all right second worst crime behind posting nothing but song lyrics: Posting dumb online quiz results that no one could care less about! Mwah hah hah hah! I feel mad with power.... How Emotional Are You? brought to you by Quizilla</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83968646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83968646'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3756562.post-83948406</id><published>2002-11-02T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-21T12:18:50.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm getting more depressed... and having less time to spend on the computer. I wonder if they're connected? And I'm going to get even less time soon, because my grandparents are coming here this Thursday, and they sleep a lot. In the room with the computer. GRRRRR! I suppose I sound like a horrible human being, but I don't believe in forcing myself to honor bonds of love through obligation (i.e. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83948406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3756562/posts/default/83948406'/><author><name>Ford Prefect's Kid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13860847614637083640</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></entry></feed>
