tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16183322920623191712024-03-14T04:45:13.578-04:00Musings of MunchHave you seen Jeopardy and the potpourri category? It's like that, little of this and a lil' of thatMunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-28351940032009934232018-09-06T13:12:00.003-04:002018-09-06T13:19:13.453-04:00My Soapbox brings all the 'necks to the Hood... <div data-block="true" data-editor="86diu" data-offset-key="f3fn4-0-0" style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span data-offset-key="f3fn4-0-0">You all didn't think I'd be gone for long, right? Okay it has been a hot damn minute... what started off as a Book of Face post, turned into a "note", and then I was like "Oh yeah, I have that blog thingamajig. I could use that. </span> </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="euc8b-0-0" style="background-color: black; color: white;">*Steps up on the soapbox* </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span data-offset-key="c81c4-0-0">I love to hear when the 'Necks say stuff like " those fuckers in Hollywood just need to shut their mouths. They are paid to entertain us, not talk about politics." Excuse me there Dumb Ass, party of one... but remember Ronald Reagan? An actor, turned Governor, obviously went on to bigger things. There is also Ahhhnold... Actor turned Gov, then back to actor because well... a maid and a love child.
The point is this: just because someone is an actor, actress, athlete, comedian, etc... it does not mean their only function in life is to entertain us; because no (and I've actually heard people say this) we don't actually pay their salary. We pay their employers, who are the producers, managers, owners, etc... who in turn pay them. If an employee's employer doesn't have an issue with the behavior you dislike... unfortunately there isn't much you can do, except boycott or not support that company, team, or business. And that's totally cool. (Because duh, freedom) W</span>hat your actions can do, is to convince an owner, producer, etc. to change their business models, employment practises.. stuff like that. <i>It may also do nothing. </i></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="6u6g7-0-0" style="background-color: black; color: white;">But back to the original point... You see, in addition to these types of "entertainers" being "snowflakes", they are firstly US citizens. As such, they get to voice their opinions. (<i><u>and also be subject to the same consequences as you and I</u></i>) They can also peacefully assemble or peacefully speak out against the government, because yay 'Murica and the Bill of Rights. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span data-offset-key="6u6g7-0-0">T</span><span data-offset-key="egrnv-0-0">hat's the thing Vets defend... the Constitution, which in turn provides and defines the freedoms that Americans enjoy. </span>We don't actually defend the flag or an anthem. Everything got blurred back in 2009 after the DOD (Dept. of Defense) spent a fuck ton of money to have the NFL televise the anthem before games; and help the DOD out with a 'lil problem they were having... namely Recruitment. So know we have
flag + anthem squared
<u>+ plus 4 branches of the military (5 if you include Space Force and why wouldn't you?)
</u>= PATRIOTISM</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">And I think that's where the disconnect lies. Too many people confuse their own expectations for what patriotism looks like vs. what it is. Is it the Star Spangled Awesomesauce below </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">or can it be a <strike>black man</strike> citizen kneeling, in a form of peaceful (and protected) protest, of the treatment of minorities by Law Enforcement, during the rendition of the National Anthem.</span><span style="color: #1d2129;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Let's look at the physical act and the implication of <a href="https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/veteran-kaepernick-take-a-knee-anthem/" target="_blank">taking a knee</a> from Nate Boyer and Colin Kaepernick; and why CK changed from sitting to kneeling. You don't have to like his protest methodology and I don't particularly like it much either, but as a U.S. Marine and Veteran, I will defend his right to do so. But do you know what we should like even less? The reason he even has to do it, which is the disproportionate use of force on blacks and minorities (vs. whites) in certain areas of the country, by Law Enforcement.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Do we have a systemic problem in Law Enforcement of racism throughout most of America... I don't believe so. Do we have a widespread problem of too many racist and woefully trained police officers... Yes, unfortunately I do. I believe that comes from a lack of funding and the personnel problems that too many LEOs face throughout the country.
If you don't have funding to staff, train (including diversity and cultural) and most importantly, SCREEN, police applicants, then your Police force is going to be made up OR include some employees with questionable ethics; with power they should not have and will be able to abuse. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Law Enforcement is not the problem, but we do need the individuals in Law Enforcement to do a better job of policing it's own and then we... need to ensure our local LEOs receive funding to do their jobs safely. Support your local Blue Lines, they may be the only ting that saves you or a loved one. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Now... adding on to the highly volatile & emotional state of all the stuff above is that yesterday, Nike (who only gives a fuck about one thing, which is making more money. If they did give a fuck, they wouldn't have sweatshops in SE Asia paying people a pittance, while working in lousy conditions) </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sung to the tune of "The Lego Movie" and "Everything is Awesome" </td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">released it's 30 year "Just Do It" anniversary campaign, which chock full of talented athletes. The issue however, is that Nike used Colin Kaepernick... an athlete, already surrounded by controversy with military supporters with the ad tag line "Sacrifice Everything" or words to that effect. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Context is everything people. To say CK hasn't sacrificed a lot is wrong, but has he sacrificed everything and is that why vets and vets widows pissed? Yep... pretty sure that's it. A hint, Nike, if you please: Just don't do that. One can hardly be upset with military members being piqued with Nike and Nike brought it on itself. Unfortunately, I don't think it will cost them anything... except maybe their souls.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">In closing... </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">1) Understand the Bill of Rights and how those rights pertain to others; and not just yourself</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">2) Listen with your ears and not your mouth</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">3) Don't be a dick </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">4) Don't confuse the body parts from two & three</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">5) Support Law Enforcement and fight to end racism </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">6) Don't support companies who use oversea sweatshops and child labor. </span></div>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-84303118801006398372017-12-14T14:55:00.000-05:002017-12-14T14:55:06.336-05:00Star Wars Episode VIII... yep Luke is still a lil bitchSpoiler Alert... there are no spoilers<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No... you're not</td></tr>
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Nope... I just decided to give some quick thoughts today in advance of the new Star Wars movie coming out tonight. Look, I love Star Wars, I always have, I always will. I have to be honest though, I loathe the character of Luke Skywalker; and now I have to deal with his punk ass on the screen again. <br />
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Seriously he's just a weak ass Jedi. Pretty sure the Force skipped a generation with him. His Jedi claim to fame is levitating Goldenrod above a bunch of pint-sized Furries. I mean what else has Luke done that's impressed with his Jedi skills? Nada, zilch, not a motherfucking thing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Furries... cute, until they bring out the butt plugs</td></tr>
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FFS... Dooku at least could use his skills with the Force to swing bolted down, industrial sized metal containers off a rock wall. Palpatine used that shit to swing those floatie seats around in the Senate chamber and knocked Yoda off his ass. (Hey Luke, it's okay little buddy, here's a nice Jedi participation ribbon for trying)<br />
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He whines about EVERY damn thing, see "I can't face him again" from Episode VI, like a teenage girl who missed getting tickets for a Zayn concert. Don't get me started on his saber wielding skills. I mean it's probably a good thing that Dad wiped out all the Padawan learners, as I'm sure one of em would have "accidentally" killed Luke in a training accident. If not one of them, then you know Mace Windu would have done it, in order to save the Jedi council any bad press with the Galactic Senate.<br />
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Seriously, you know both Obi Wan and Yoda are second guessing their decision in the Force "after life" to train Luke over his sister. (Apparently male misogyny is alive and well in a galaxy far, far away) Now Princess Leia? Total bad ass... she was still a teenage girl when she set out to lead the Rebellion and basically told Vader to go fuck himself in episode IV. (Granted that led to about 7 billion deaths on Alderaan... but hey, a girl can only put up with so much macho posturing, even from dear old Dad) My girl has the stones to do what needs being done in a Rebellion, which Luke apparently doesn't or at least whose stones never dropped.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbg0vxE_VmtyRxtR1alZUeyF_0lcgGaoLhtuEs8Kd9uP3JVGlnKgoGjQEkj2cKmen2cyZ0muoCHNTV0IFRqrrME25MyA36h4-usxH4bm5NCg0mq7iGJnPG2KbYI5J7pd4mR8AnrINGZJsT/s1600/leia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbg0vxE_VmtyRxtR1alZUeyF_0lcgGaoLhtuEs8Kd9uP3JVGlnKgoGjQEkj2cKmen2cyZ0muoCHNTV0IFRqrrME25MyA36h4-usxH4bm5NCg0mq7iGJnPG2KbYI5J7pd4mR8AnrINGZJsT/s1600/leia.jpg" /></a></div>
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At least Han went out like a man. Sacrificing himself, because he believed he was saving and helping his son, Rylo, become a better Sith. #Dad #ParentingAintEasy #Scoundrel So yeah, Kylo is a little rough around the edges;but for chessus sake, his supposed Master abandoned him to run away and hide. Did Kylo break down and abandon his training? Nope... he manned up, trained himself without a Sith Lord or Jedi Master, and made his own sweet ass lightsaber; complete with a questionable, if not dangerous dual saber guard. #notanengineer #ohmywrist #thatsgonnaleaveamark<br />
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What Rey is thinking going to Luke for help, IDFK... talk about working with a handicap. I'm pretty sure about 20 mins into the movie, we're going to see Rey be like: "Fuck this old dude. His Force skills are for shit & I bet he likes Zayn. I'm going back to Jakku and finding a cantina!".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCsWIMuakNVF4r2aMfv7fKm3IDG0uhwdRM7ImOCJoz2Hgvv5hJ2fmKyzjA1pqmxMCbcDypcqDUqSjkgvFbz-i_kUu9Zr1n6r_idwOSgkZ5E9HvhlRG1Mnr_T83BFgVBoHeK1Y_utn0Uqi/s1600/rey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCsWIMuakNVF4r2aMfv7fKm3IDG0uhwdRM7ImOCJoz2Hgvv5hJ2fmKyzjA1pqmxMCbcDypcqDUqSjkgvFbz-i_kUu9Zr1n6r_idwOSgkZ5E9HvhlRG1Mnr_T83BFgVBoHeK1Y_utn0Uqi/s320/rey.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't EVEN with this bitch... fuck the Rebellion</td></tr>
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Even R2-D2 didn't go with Luke to that water world he hides out on; which on the surface has better amenities and conditions than Dagobah... but the reason Yoda chose Dagobah, was because he knew that no one would come looking for him on that shit-tastic swamp of a planet. Again, classic case of our little bitch friend, Luke, taking the easy route; and shocker... he got found! (DUDE, YOU SO FUCKING SUCK) Anyway, I digressed there. What was I saying? Oh yeah... R2 just shut himself the fuck down and gave Luke a big ole 404 - Not Found error. (The fact it took him so long to re-boot is a Windows 10 issue I'm guessing)<br />
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So to all the Star Wars friends, May the Force be with you.<br />
I REALLY hope Luke dies in this one. <br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">MUNCH</span><br />
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-3565997187094610932017-09-26T14:15:00.000-04:002017-09-26T14:15:29.770-04:00What Else... the NFL Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Again… coming in hot… just like this Fall day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">Back tracking to yesterday… I received some feedback on what I wrote. To be honest, it was 50/50 mixed bag. So after some additional pondering and input from some friends, let's add to what I wrote. An evolution if you will. People, things and feelings change. It's not easy, if it was, it wouldn't be called progress. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: white;">The NFL and the Anthem --- </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">This isn’t about people being disrespectful to the military or Veterans. Protesting has always been a constitutionally protected right through peaceful demonstration. The demonstration or protest is against racial inequality. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span style="color: white;">“Kaepernick used a strong vehicle to voice being against police brutality and the killing of unarmed blacks. If it divided the nation even more, it was truly a wakeup call to the division that hidden and now right in front of us. Regardless of what FS Key meant when he wrote the anthem, and regardless of what the flag stood for back then, until people of color can truly feel equal, this will not go away...it will take ALL of us to admit all wrongs, not just white ones, not just black ones, not just native American ones, or any other ones, but ALL...and that may not happen in our life time, or until Jesus return.” </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span style="color: white;">“So much has been exposed of the accomplishments of blacks that they did not get credit for. Ok, give us credit and fix it, so we can move on! There are many great things that whites did, ok, take the credit and move on! If only it was that easy....can you imagine the work and time it would take to rewire our thinking? Blacks are not exempt in their actions either. They have the power to change, as a people, but there passive racism within even our own! Ridiculous, isn't it?” </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span style="color: white;">~Dawn D. --- Mom, Friend, Veteran, Preacher’s wife, Strong, black woman. </span></i></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">My friend, Dawn is amazing. She once sang the National Anthem at a nationally televised NFL game years ago. (I can’t say how many years ago though, because she’d hit me with her old lady purse) She did this, even though she already knew then what the anthem was about. She did it because she had pride and honor in her and her fellow Veteran’s service. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">This is why the anthem issue is so hard for many of us Veterans. It’s not about the rights of people to protest. It’s that these protests happen in a moment where all, are supposed to be honoring ours/their friend, relatives, and Brothers/Sisters in Arms. When athletes are choosing to use that sacred moment, in order to demonstrate, it is hurtful to us in uniform. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">I’m being told from my friend Clint S., it may have something to do with evolution… specifically the: <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://theoatmeal.com/comics/believe" target="_blank">Amygdala</a> </span></span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-61db4284-bf43-0d60-fc31-39847b804a0d" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">The other reason it is hard to swallow now, is the fact that prior to this weekend… only a handful of players had taken a knee to protest racial inequality. Two days ago, almost the entire league did so. Why? Was it because they were the President called them a bunch of “sons of bitches”; or because they genuinely felt this was the time to take a stand, along with those who’ve historically been racially discriminated against? </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I honestly think many of them did take a knee or abstain from the Anthem because they felt "Hey, it's time. We can make an impact"; or they felt that they could finally d o so without repercussions. I also honestly think however that the NFL played a part. The league wanted to send a big, collective “fuck you” to the President after his remarks; and this was a perfect way to do so. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: white;">Racism</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></b></span>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: black; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Can we fix it??...not until communities, people, rich and poor make an effort and get rid of racism in their hearts...</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Racism is taught... soon as people stop teaching it then maybe things may slightly changes</span><span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i>But realistically no it’s never going to change as long as the rich keep getting richer and poor keep getting poorer and the middle class remain stagnant</i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-973d8da7-bf4e-059d-c2c4-0d0ec0f77595" style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>And as long as our government remains evil, corrupted to the core and not giving a fuck about its citizens things will not change...</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br class="kix-line-break" /></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span><span style="background-color: black; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span><span style="background-color: black; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i>~ Steven H. --- Dad, Friend, Raider Fan, Strong Black Man</i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span><span style="background-color: black; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></span>
<div class="Mu SP" data-tooltip="September 26, 2017 at 1:02:35 PM UTC-4" id=":26.ma" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-left: 9px; margin-right: 9px; opacity: 1; outline: none; transition: opacity 0.218s ease; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
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<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: black; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></div>
<div class="Mu SP" data-tooltip="September 26, 2017 at 1:05:42 PM UTC-4" id=":28.ma" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-left: 9px; margin-right: 9px; opacity: 1; outline: none; transition: opacity 0.218s ease; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;" title="September 26, 2017 at 1:05:42 PM UTC-4">
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">My guy, Steve, is a honest, hard working guy. We met years ago through work and I can honestly say he is one of my best friends. (Setting aside that he is a Raider fan) More importantly he has, along with Dawn, experienced racism first hand in a way I never would... that is to say because I'm white and treated differently by both police and a patriarchal society. That isn't something I can do much about it... other than to not abuse that privilege, make sure my friends are protected, and in genral be a good person. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">The divide in America is strong… he knows it, Dawn knows it, I know it. All of us know it. T</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Calibri; white-space: pre-wrap;">he problem is with education and economics. It will only get better when all people admit the failings and truths of the past (good and bad). This holds true even if that means that for some we will to re-learn and accept some harsh truths about ourselves and our ancestors. Nobody should expect perfection, as none of us our perfect beings. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white;">We as a Nation honestly can’t right the wrongs done in the past, as those mistakes have already been made. All we can do is to learn from those mistakes and move forward. We each have to stand up and stop blaming each other. We have to empower each other as equals, regardless of race; so that the Founding Father’s intent of equal rights for all is fully realized.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><b><i>Munch </i></b></span></span></div>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-81966627289803505782017-09-25T17:13:00.001-04:002017-09-25T17:15:54.559-04:00Because what else... the NFL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span data-offset-key="fq28u-0-0"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Coming in hot today. No preambles or "hi, how are you" today... because fuck it, I'm done with this. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://uscode.house.gov/view.xhtml?req=granuleid:USC-prelim-title36-section301&num=0&edition=prelim" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">America</span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">§301. National anthem
(a) Designation.-The composition consisting of the words and music known as the Star-Spangled Banner is the national anthem.
<b>(b) Conduct During Playing.-During a rendition of the national anthem-
(1) when the flag is displayed-</b>
(A) individuals in uniform should give the military salute at the first note of the anthem and maintain that position until the last note;
(B) members of the Armed Forces and veterans who are present but not in uniform may render the military salute in the manner provided for individuals in uniform; and
<b>(C) all other persons present should face the flag and stand at attention with their right hand over the heart, and men not in uniform, if applicable, should remove their headdress with their right hand and hold it at the left shoulder, the hand being over the heart; and
(2) when the flag is not displayed, all present should face toward the music and act in the same manner they would if the flag were displayed.</b>
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<span data-offset-key="ag5fa-0-0" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">It says to stand the fuck up... period. One would assume if someone does not stand-up, it is reasonable to assume that they're guilty of breaking US Code (the law) </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ag5fa-0-0" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Now here is the tricky part... The 1st Amendment or the 1st Article of the Bill of Rights, which includes or discusses the right to free speech, along with religion, petition and assemble. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ag5fa-0-0" style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span data-offset-key="ag5fa-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I</span>s silence<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the same as free speech? (and oh by the way</span>, it totally doesn't mean you can say anything you want. It doesn't cover profanity or defamation of a person/people... like calling a group of people "sons of bitches".) Anyway, I digressed. So again I ask:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span data-offset-key="ag5fa-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">In order to be heard, i</span>s a group or person's silence<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the same as free speech? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Is expression a form of protected speech? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Is kneeling a form of expression?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If the above is all true, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">why in the wide, wide, world of sports is there a US law which contradicts a basic right of the 1st Amendment? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I thought I knew what my opinion on this subject was, when I posted a clever little meme on Facebook last week... but now, I just don't know. The playing of the National Anthem (at least now and at sporting events) is to done to honor service members both alive and dead, who've guaranteed through their service contracts or with their lives, the freedoms and rights we all enjoy. Yes, the playing of the National Anthem started when the Department of Defense gave a lot of money to the NFL.... but still it's not a bad thing. It is something we should be doing. Honoring our Vets should never be called in to question by a citizen of this nation.
While I can say without doubt that kneeling is not something I would do, or will ever do... (That will never change) I'm not so sure, or as sure as I was last week, that the 1st amendment gives people the right to protest in this current form. <span style="font-family: inherit;">I know lots of people who think they're constitutional scholars, but that's not the same as a ruling from SCOTUS. If </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> any of you know of specific rulings, as it pertains to protected speech/silence... etc., please share, because I'm listening and facts influence me, as they should all of us. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I know what the kneeling in silence or standing in a tunnel out of sight is being done. Players are doing it to call to attention racial inequality, as it pertains to police brutality and profiling... at least that's why it started. Now it seems the "protest" is being done to call to attention the racial divide that still exists. My thought is that this is due to the "racist lines" of the anthem. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">O say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bomb bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream,
'Tis the star-spangled banner - O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a Country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and <b><u>slave</u></b>
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">O thus be it ever when <u>freemen</u> shall stand
Between their lov'd home and the war's desolation!
Blest with vict'ry and peace may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto - "In God is our trust,"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Per Wiki... "The Star-Spangled Banner" is the national anthem of the United States of America. The lyrics come from "Defence of Fort M'Henry", a poem written on September 14, 1814, by the 35-year-old lawyer and amateur poet Francis Scott Key after witnessing the bombardment of Fort McHenry by British ships of the Royal Navy in Baltimore Harbor during the Battle of Baltimore in the War of 1812. Key was inspired by the large American flag, the Star-Spangled Banner, flying triumphantly above the fort during the American victory.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Key was a lawyer, who was a slave owner, and yes there are words which reference slaves and freemen. While I don't believe he was specifically celebrating slavery in this instance, that's just my opinion. Slavery was the normal at that time. While we know better... it doesn't change the fact that slavery was the norm,which was accepted by whites for the first 100 years in our Nations history. The next 100 were spent ensuring the same rights for blacks as whites. The last 50... well it's difficult to say.
Something positive? President Obama. A black man in the White House. Progress is awesome! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Something negative? The continuing lack of educational opportunities and disproportionate incarceration rates for young black men... because weed. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Take weed and minor drug convictions off the table... crime stats of who/what gets done to how doesn't really favor one demographic over another. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm tired. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm tired of defending my views.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm tired of defending other's views. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm tired of friends fighting.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'm tired of families fighting.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">I'M TIRED OF ALL THE FUCKING "ADULTS" WHO CANT ACT LIKE IT AND CAN'T REALIZE CHANGE DOES NOT COME BY WAY OF YELLING AND SCREAMING... </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit;">Change comes with talking; and more importantly LISTENING. When there are civil tongues and civil discussion... it's much easier to make decisions and implement legislation on what's best for everyone, when people are listening to one another. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: x-large;">Munch</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">P.S. Also... please tell your friends to stop using the stupid flag etiquette clothing meme. The US code references flags. Flags, not apparel to be worn to cover our naked asses. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">In other words: </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">You or I can wear a garment with a flag or even a clothing piece designed to be look like a flag... </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">You or I just can't wear an actual flag as a piece of clothing. </span></div>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-32296016350034335842017-03-09T15:12:00.003-05:002017-03-09T15:25:37.561-05:00Agree to disagree, how we can get the fuck along<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello World, it’s me Munch!<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to conduct an experiment. Ready? Good. Close your
eyes. I’m going to ask you a question. Have you ever disagreed with anyone? What
came first, the chicken or the egg? Who wore it better, Kim or Kanye? Yes, of
course you’ve disagreed with someone. It’s natural, because we are all unique
with individual opinions, likes, and dislikes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We agree to the same ideas, but have unique reasons for
doing so. For example, Bob and Tom both support the 2<sup>nd</sup> Amendment.
Bob does so because he hunts. He hunts to provide food for his family and save
money. Tom supports the 2<sup>nd</sup> Amendment because he believes in his
right to protect his home and family. Agreeing to the same idea or cause, but
for different reasons.</div>
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I used a strong example there, because it leads me to what I’m
seeing with people, politics, and disagreements. Let me tell you… social fricking
media. If you don’t have the FB or Twitter… don’t go getting it now. Social
media has become an even worse “swamp” than the one in D.C., because people
have turned into stark raving lunatics on both sides. Quite honestly… what the
actual fuck people? We’re in need of a new feature on social media called the GMI:
Grandma Monitoring Interface.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExqsFxVRcB-9PZjfYzRqw3kxG87ETzzqfi48Bbc7aN7KMGjE0rmG0BcTVZO0YrKFRd8TU2bcvXNoUXbzo6g-oafqeB4yTBbw_XhBnrInv56YjfWujzoXbFMkBEVttsHTzj5TTTZs_eFIf/s1600/grandma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExqsFxVRcB-9PZjfYzRqw3kxG87ETzzqfi48Bbc7aN7KMGjE0rmG0BcTVZO0YrKFRd8TU2bcvXNoUXbzo6g-oafqeB4yTBbw_XhBnrInv56YjfWujzoXbFMkBEVttsHTzj5TTTZs_eFIf/s320/grandma.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma's.. aren't they the cutest? </td></tr>
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What Grandma’s interface will do, is ensure that comments
are appropriate and passes the Grandma test. Is this something you would say to
a fellow human being in front of your Grandma? No? Algorithms will then prevent
your comment from posting and suggest instead a sane “Would you like to instead”
response. Some examples include: <o:p></o:p></div>
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When someone types a response via comment that states: “U ignerant
fucktard lebral snowflake” (misspelled intentionally… because well you’ve been
on Facebook), the algorithm will pick up on that and suggest instead: “You seem
to be having difficulty with my conservative opinion. While I respect your
individual right to an opinion of big government, please respect my opinion for
smaller government and my right to live free”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Conversely<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When someone types a response via comment that states: “You
are a grossly, misinformed, misogynist, pig; who uses the Bible to propagate
hate”, the algorithm will pick up on that and suggest: “I see you love Jesus. Let
me assure you, that I too love Jesus and believe in his teachings whereby he
commanded me to love my fellow man with no asterisks. May the Peace of the Lord
be with you always.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See? The same thing was said, but in non-hateful way. A civil
debate/discussion can still take place between the two people, to find the best
solution to a problem. My friends, that is what it supposed to happen in
Congress and is currently not. Congress has implemented an extreme “Yes or No, we’ve
got the majority” method of legislating. At this point, it’s not hard for me to
see why. “We the People”, can’t stop bullying and threating one another over a
keyboard long enough; to see how our Government, which is supposed to be ours,
is fucking us over. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this is my biggest problem with America right now. How
we treat each other and the things we are saying is more shameful IMO than how
politicians are acting. We hide behind our internet profiles and spew hatred to
one another, calling each other names and fighting about who’s right and who’s
wrong in all of this. Newsflash… we all share some blame. Things will only get
better when we truly stop, take a deep breath and say: “You know what? No more.
I will not hate my neighbor today because he is different. I will instead
embrace her because she is different and learn how we can be stronger together” </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN9F5WbuhjtbXC8vIdAnBuYqKhS-kCSXPqAx9pV5l-LGMn_Ry5YZu0BGW0-W4SBWyqHYF0v41lf-ONhjlQu9MwLHZFghf-D_no04mjt-RvnI5cE4veQtN1pUp691Kv2oDiGDHoJSz_0nF/s1600/be+nice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioN9F5WbuhjtbXC8vIdAnBuYqKhS-kCSXPqAx9pV5l-LGMn_Ry5YZu0BGW0-W4SBWyqHYF0v41lf-ONhjlQu9MwLHZFghf-D_no04mjt-RvnI5cE4veQtN1pUp691Kv2oDiGDHoJSz_0nF/s320/be+nice.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not that time. Be Nice </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since I’m on a roll today, let me share some additional
thoughts:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Protests.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is our 1<sup>st</sup> Amendment right to peacefully assemble
and protest. That right does not guarantee you the right to act like an asshole
and impede upon the rights of others to move through traffic safely. (whether
it be in a car or on a sidewalk)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you get gassed by the police, because you are doing so… too
fucking bad, you deserve it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
White Privilege <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you don’t understand it, newsflash… you have it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Slaves <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, they existed. No, they were not immigrants or
volunteers… no matter what Ben Carson or the textbooks written in Texas tell
you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Gay Agenda <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Newsflash… Agendas are for meetings. Gay folk, or as I like
to call them: People… aren’t having secret meetings to develop gay conversion serums, in order to make
America Fabulous. There is no agenda, just stop. Some people are just gay, please just get over it. (But if someone does tell you they are gay… realize what a moment
that is. Say something positive like “That’s awesome bro, but it's still your turn to take out the trash” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Transgender people in the bathrooms<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seriously I don’t know why this is even an issue. Ahem… everybody
pees. Biological fact. If you’re checking out genitalia of others in the bathroom,
you’re the sick one. (You’re probably also gay, which is okay... but I’m still gonna
need you to take out that trash) Still though, there is not a documented case of
an actual trans person attacking someone in the bathroom.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEPyORMwi_EMvtlZsZ7bDeuCxoxMBgAwCzOWWmNT3O78O41AWHOyXXniodWmPyqu3_TcIEpmjmMo8lAxGnLeYOYOggatZDOhM1de6izqE2vA1oXRlBgtAP2Csrd0qrm3z9oiniUuABGdy/s1600/everyone-poops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEPyORMwi_EMvtlZsZ7bDeuCxoxMBgAwCzOWWmNT3O78O41AWHOyXXniodWmPyqu3_TcIEpmjmMo8lAxGnLeYOYOggatZDOhM1de6izqE2vA1oXRlBgtAP2Csrd0qrm3z9oiniUuABGdy/s320/everyone-poops.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yep... everyone. some are even full of it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Criminals, yes… trans
people, no. Do you really think that a criminal is going to perpetrate a crime,
whereby he knows that if he caught that he is going to the pokey dressed as a
woman? Also, let’s be realistic here. If you’re going to sexually assault someone,
a pair of pantyhose probably aren’t the best thing to wear… just saying. If you
don’t believe me, try a pair. Seriously, I’ll wait. Wait a good hour or two
after you’ve been sweating in them and try to get them off in a hurry. Now try
to do that while trying to sexually assault someone who is fighting you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Agree? Disagree? Comment. Keep it civil. I love being wrong
when someone teaches me something new, almost as much as I love being right.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Munch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-22827041377016358162016-11-10T15:48:00.001-05:002016-11-10T15:48:10.378-05:00Moving Forward with Hope. We the People.<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The 2016 Presidential election has passed and with a twist that
many didn’t see coming: Republican Presidential nominee Donald J Trump won the
White House. For sure, there will be the pundits and the die hard, Democratic
supporters who say Hillary Clinton won the popular vote and she should be the
winner. Shades of the 2000 election abound, but in the end… it really doesn’t
matter. We have an Electoral College and until such a time that the Electoral
College is abolished… the popular vote is not how the President and VP are chosen.
We the voters only indirectly elect the President. The Electorates of each
state will elect the candidate come Dec 19<sup>th </sup>and yes, the candidate elected will be Donald
Trump. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
None of us knows what is going to happen going forward and this post isn't about what the President Elect will do or who he will piss off. It's about us... you & I; and what we as a nation need to do to right our ship. With that out of the way… how do we proceed?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First thing is first… We all need to respect the Office of
the Presidency. Donald Trump is the President Elect, he was elected and won in
a fair process. Time and again throughout
President Obama’s administration, all of us saw the racist comments on Facebook
or in the Media. For some of us, myself included, it angered me to no end. Kenya baby… O-Bammie… Obama Hussein… The Monkey in the White House… and let’s
not forget the supreme mother of all insults to a black man or woman: “Nigger”. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s not my President” or "I didn't vote for him, so I'm not supporting him", many declared. True, you may not have voted for him or even like that he is your President;
but as the office holder of Presidency of the United States… he is the top public
elected servant for ALL Americans. The same applies now. I may not have voted
for Donald Trump, but he will be this nation’s President come January 20<sup>th</sup>,
2017 and as President, he will be entitled to the respect that the office
commands. The violence we are seeing at protests is not going to accomplish
anything or move us forward as a nation. Right now, more than anything… this
nation needs healing and unity. Protesting and assembling peacefully? Yes,
protected by the 1<sup>st</sup> Amendment. Protesting and inciting violence against
others? Not protected. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The 2<sup>nd</sup> thing we need to do…. Embrace our
neighbors & love them. This includes any of you on the Christian right as well; who need to hug and
love their bleeding heart, tree hugging, Liberal friends. If you don’t
understand why, may I suggest you go back to the Good Book and check out John
15:17… go ahead, we’ll wait until you get back. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hi there, welcome back! We’re on the same page now, right? You
saw that there were no caveats to what he said, am I right? Good Deal. Moving
on… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now one thing Trump did do this election cycle, was to show
us how bad America has gotten with regards to how Americans treat each other.
Not directly of course, but through the fallout of his behavior and speeches. We
now see that racism, homophobia and misogyny <span lang="EN" style="color: #1d2129; mso-ansi-language: EN;">is still alive and doing fairly well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Not all of us,
dare I say most of us, share these
behaviors and attitudes. Donald Trump indirectly however has forced us to see
and admit these problems. How do we fix this? I honestly don’t know, but I do
know one of the steps is going to be embracing one another. It’s not a physical
action you understand, but the concept of accepting people for who they are,
even when we don’t know or understand what that may be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3<sup>rd</sup>… This election cycle has made enemies of
friends. Words spoken cannot be taken back, but we CAN move forward together. How do I know we can? Because this election
cycle has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that “We the People” are fed up. Donald
Trump wasn’t elected for his policies as much, as he was because so many
Americans are pissed and wanted to say “Fuck you!” to the establishment, whose
been fuckin’ things up for us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We the People are tired of politics in DC. We the People are
tired of the last hour backroom, power deals. We the People are fed up with
lobbyists. We the People are fed up with the men and women that we sent to
represent our will, not doing their damn jobs*.
(jobs*- see also taxes, economy, immigration, etc.) <br />
<br />
We the People want our country fixed… because when our house is in order, we will
be the best. Other countries will again look to us again, as a shining beacon and
aspire to be like us. Politics isn’t a once a year or every fours civic duty,
folks. It’s a constant duty for us all. Be involved. Write, e-mail or call your
elected officials and make your voice heard; because if you aren’t… then you aren’t doing your
part to self govern and you don’t get to complain when the government isn’t
working. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only way that “We the People” can govern… is if in fact
we are actively doing so. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span> </div>
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-18363691836066392012016-02-17T12:13:00.000-05:002016-02-17T12:13:02.047-05:00Filler... getting back in the Writing Saddle or trying<br />
Disclaimer... there are no revelations or anything super funny in this post. It's mostly just filler to see if I can still tell a story in a humorous way and hold your attention long enough, so if you're bored at the end, don't say you weren't warned.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhPFiCac5h9FbiN_mfIAK9hAfl5PnFTpgn6h_l4vOUGAZjV9KNUGLJNdWd7Kh-ofuKWlCbC9ZgxOeJI99zuz2H9P-KnL3sZJeVgrjqiIUMxNoio_nVlDbl7IDkudi2DRvKS_APFw1vm6L/s1600/steve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhPFiCac5h9FbiN_mfIAK9hAfl5PnFTpgn6h_l4vOUGAZjV9KNUGLJNdWd7Kh-ofuKWlCbC9ZgxOeJI99zuz2H9P-KnL3sZJeVgrjqiIUMxNoio_nVlDbl7IDkudi2DRvKS_APFw1vm6L/s320/steve.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm gonna need you to remove the sand from your vagina...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Doctor's appointments were the staple of the day yesterday. Not for me mind you... I'm as healthy as a horse. This makes it difficult for me to accompany people, because I can be like this guy....<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqORPe7w5-5cKxVpzWi8_pknREqwBfIqdgcyi_AgZZLT2-Gd-lbl76wS6vdkDjkxCX8qxVoCBMlcvSTKNiL3TMQNC82oxUXL_19I-ppF2qyqrPYrp2G1CSFFxsC_hf3E9UJkFJkEblTuq3/s1600/not+pass.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqORPe7w5-5cKxVpzWi8_pknREqwBfIqdgcyi_AgZZLT2-Gd-lbl76wS6vdkDjkxCX8qxVoCBMlcvSTKNiL3TMQNC82oxUXL_19I-ppF2qyqrPYrp2G1CSFFxsC_hf3E9UJkFJkEblTuq3/s200/not+pass.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do you see this glass wall and my <br />look of condescension?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Appointment one was for Ms. Munch and it was </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
scheduled for 1:25... we got back to the room at 1:50 and the doctor strolled in about 2:00. Fortunately however, I realize that shit happens. Doctors can run late for a variety of reasons. It was nice of the nurse to tell us that the doctor was running late when we got back to the room and why. It would have been nicer to hear that however, when we checked in and we were cooling our heels waiting for an extra half hour. I'm talking to you Ms. Receptionist... who takes names; makes copies of drivers' licenses and insurance cards; and generally acts as Gatekeepers. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CZs22QlxPUU79jFlX8t45UCbhsPMKyCbSPaUogpMHZhlzFbqlY33bH6XTl6I4NYCAkKepcIH5puZPhb2A8SuABwcI_DNbK0uVGGANNJkIaw5suHLLrDxXachiIdWV439QW15TIBaFI1e/s1600/alien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CZs22QlxPUU79jFlX8t45UCbhsPMKyCbSPaUogpMHZhlzFbqlY33bH6XTl6I4NYCAkKepcIH5puZPhb2A8SuABwcI_DNbK0uVGGANNJkIaw5suHLLrDxXachiIdWV439QW15TIBaFI1e/s320/alien.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congratulations... it's going to rip you apart</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Anyway, we were there to meet with the physician who performed her diastasis / hernia repair two years ago. Our concern obviously being "Hey, you fucked this up... we're gonna need you to fix this. And oh by the way, we don't think it's fair we have to pay for your mistake."<br />
<br />
Two things... #1) We're totally still gonna have to pay for it, because #2) it's apparently a new baby alien (diastasis/hernia) as it's not in the same spot, as he so confidently concluded by poking around with his fingers and concluding the new trouble area is 2 centimeters from where where it was at before. Long story short... Ms. Munch has to go back under the knife.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqsvAmi4bxeXBL2efT19F1J8tkgMlwmwp14ZLyPz4YKUNXmaa_yGpEmU7WME1-6fzC_sPVvIzxKIB3wdxZ0diPbpynZtdENkz1aMCAumhyphenhyphenVeYrrg_-rxBjTjUF6B0BjJlIMVz8cKunjPh/s1600/Mr.+Wizard.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqsvAmi4bxeXBL2efT19F1J8tkgMlwmwp14ZLyPz4YKUNXmaa_yGpEmU7WME1-6fzC_sPVvIzxKIB3wdxZ0diPbpynZtdENkz1aMCAumhyphenhyphenVeYrrg_-rxBjTjUF6B0BjJlIMVz8cKunjPh/s200/Mr.+Wizard.PNG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because I'm the Wizard, bitch!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Appointment two was for Mini, which should have been an easy, peasy visit. Haaaaa.... not so fast my friend. This was his first time meeting the new family doctor, which means a total recitation of family medical history. Seriously, is there a reason I have to do this? I gave you my history at my last appointment and my wife told you hers, at her last appointment. According to science, her and I's kids are gonna have the same history Mr. Wizard.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In addition to that fun, it was the first visit where I got kicked out of the room... wait, what? I guess this is the age where we as parents get kicked out so the doctors can ask all the important questions like: "Are you using drugs? Just don't" and "Are you having sex? Use protection". Hey Doc, the walls are thin... you may want to use your indoor voice, just saying. I also discovered during this visit is that Mini is officially 5'10 and has officially surpassed me height wise. While it's not the end or the world... there is certainly a feeling of sadness.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4JWvkw90icfy_GmGQK8ruf6ijJLRvuT9vQM0JO2ao3Q_8lFMHD9PnLkE6aLmRM9ie6o514qj4pWS2PGpieKU24_bN-XWcFuNryBdypc0IOIjKtwszTykZP_M-OUMEvgJD59T8MLWC4Oh/s1600/miniature-books-glendalough-148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4JWvkw90icfy_GmGQK8ruf6ijJLRvuT9vQM0JO2ao3Q_8lFMHD9PnLkE6aLmRM9ie6o514qj4pWS2PGpieKU24_bN-XWcFuNryBdypc0IOIjKtwszTykZP_M-OUMEvgJD59T8MLWC4Oh/s200/miniature-books-glendalough-148.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Book of Mini. Free for <br />Amazon Prime members.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As new fathers, we want our sons to grow up to be big and strong. Things that will enable them to protect themselves, protect others and attract a mate. However, when you realize they've grown up physically and there is less time than there was before to teach them all things that you thought there was plenty of time to do so... that's a moment. It's a moment in which I realized that that there is a new chapter due in the Book of Mini. A new chapter in a book that Mini's Mom and I will no longer write alone, but will co-author with him as he navigates being a young adult... until such a time he grows into manhood and writes his own stories.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span><br />
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-48117922999725561882016-02-16T12:23:00.000-05:002016-02-16T16:41:24.023-05:00Fashion Faux Pas Fridays - The 2016 Grammy Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Are you there readers, it's me Munch. It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time without me. I'm sorry, deal. Life and schizz. <br />
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Okay, so that's an exaggeration, however its been a long fuckin' time since I did a post and accordingly you should be patient and forgiving because writing and posting pictures is hard.<br />
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Anyway... here I am... back in the saddle for a special Grammys edition. Who doesn't love Red Carpet events? Our favorite artists decked out and resplendent in designer garb that the rest of us won't ever be able to afford; and adorned with jewelry on loan because who in the fuck buys million dollar necklaces anyway?<br />
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The Grammys are fun because we get to see artists do their best Derek Zoolander "Blue Steel" impressions. It's also not as formal as the Oscars, so people can take chances and wear something "edgy". Sometimes the edge works and sometimes it fails... spectacularly. (My favorite)<br />
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Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of bad decisions made last evening. Folks upped their fashion game... hell, even the Grammys themselves were better than usual and featured live singing.<br />
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Evening trends.... <br />
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High slits - Hit or a miss. (Hint: if the slit hits your pelvic bone, it's juuuuust a bit too high) </div>
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Peekaboo cut-outs - Also a hit or miss (Dangerous, cause angles and lighting and holy shit, does she have four boobs?) </div>
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Women in men's tuxedo jackets sans brasseries <---- Hot AF... Yes!!!!</div>
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Men without socks... fucking stop it. You're grown ass men. Dress like it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zjPWyyb1fQDaqxGQYYBn0P-UT5TpZ1RkvgzNp6KRJD5ISqtCV5wVh8NF-znjUmO0qiDqpuiY-QqJ7QS9hyphenhyphenGUyNHEVGlUlLX70aq2rRDZ9FxQ_hlvXol9Cxm2T92UWj9XFe8M6x8gmY5z/s1600/taylor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zjPWyyb1fQDaqxGQYYBn0P-UT5TpZ1RkvgzNp6KRJD5ISqtCV5wVh8NF-znjUmO0qiDqpuiY-QqJ7QS9hyphenhyphenGUyNHEVGlUlLX70aq2rRDZ9FxQ_hlvXol9Cxm2T92UWj9XFe8M6x8gmY5z/s320/taylor.jpg" width="230" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV77nwMTusBl3c0jG_fX_G9AaXDQzRMS3EyBsqD5scQvev3536Tf-kgaDdX1nNNqYe_UC9FNuXO6-fs6rM0v8TliXAPrNNtvL4Ly-WLcfk2zXWK-cxxM-eFpBTFMSquvb2sscU583hG4t/s1600/LBT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV77nwMTusBl3c0jG_fX_G9AaXDQzRMS3EyBsqD5scQvev3536Tf-kgaDdX1nNNqYe_UC9FNuXO6-fs6rM0v8TliXAPrNNtvL4Ly-WLcfk2zXWK-cxxM-eFpBTFMSquvb2sscU583hG4t/s320/LBT.jpg" width="242" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV77nwMTusBl3c0jG_fX_G9AaXDQzRMS3EyBsqD5scQvev3536Tf-kgaDdX1nNNqYe_UC9FNuXO6-fs6rM0v8TliXAPrNNtvL4Ly-WLcfk2zXWK-cxxM-eFpBTFMSquvb2sscU583hG4t/s1600/LBT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV77nwMTusBl3c0jG_fX_G9AaXDQzRMS3EyBsqD5scQvev3536Tf-kgaDdX1nNNqYe_UC9FNuXO6-fs6rM0v8TliXAPrNNtvL4Ly-WLcfk2zXWK-cxxM-eFpBTFMSquvb2sscU583hG4t/s1600/LBT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
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It's a before and after lesson in age appropriate fashion. (E.g. what you can wear in your 20's vs what you can wear in your 40's) That being said they both looked amazing in those colors. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgLxjqzaXDIPEKcwlFKm_PQ_XKD8o6KoOkbOa6tRaZtKomfxr_gvT4s6Hg4FndrIcRyVZ1fJwtQW8JhSBuxkgv3_2hWQstwVcJc73lf481h-FhT7ECEkA0hCkFGZi4Tb6ZpLZRzyR-sVv/s1600/Elle-King.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgLxjqzaXDIPEKcwlFKm_PQ_XKD8o6KoOkbOa6tRaZtKomfxr_gvT4s6Hg4FndrIcRyVZ1fJwtQW8JhSBuxkgv3_2hWQstwVcJc73lf481h-FhT7ECEkA0hCkFGZi4Tb6ZpLZRzyR-sVv/s320/Elle-King.jpg" width="228" /></a><br />
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One, two, three they gonna run away from me<br />
'Cause I'm the worst dressed that they ever did see<br />
Dress's and the no, no, no's....<br />
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Hello from the Dark Side... </div>
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I will not win E!'s fashion prize...</div>
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I'm oddly aroused by the Thai Lady Boy...</div>
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errr, nope that's just Zendaya sporting a mullet, in a tux. </div>
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Did you know that the release party for Kacey Musgrave's "Pageant Material" album was done at a drag bar in Nashville, where the queens were dressed as pageant girls? Kacey would have been wise to listen to them about hair, make-up and even borrowed a dress... cause this... I don't know what arrow she was following.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">you betta werk!</td></tr>
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Speaking of queens... do you know why they love Gaga? Look at the those heels... it's called respect </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">in full disclosure, I do love the new new locks</td></tr>
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Shoulder Pads... YES!!!! </div>
Alexis Carrington is that you?<br />
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Okay... it's a St Patrick's day wedding dress with <i>Fatal Attraction</i> accessories? </div>
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Alright, I could do this all day... but I unfortunately have a job... which pays me to work. My worst and best dressed winner selections for you people. And by people, I mean Twin, cause she is the only one who will read or care about this ridiculous post.</div>
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<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Best</span></b> </div>
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<b>Carrie Underwood</b></div>
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Black can be hard to pull off and make a statement on the Red Carpet, however she owned that place last night. Hair, jewelry, the ruching and fabric of the dress... the slit was the perfect height. As close to perfect as you can get.</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b>Worst</b></span> </div>
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<b>Florence Welch</b></div>
According to E!, she is some kind of fashion expert and she is a whimsical, free spirit type and this is the perfect type of dress for her, which no one else could pull off.<br />
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To which I say...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoh8cCQFhZ1F-bbaOf1GNjYzZoHy1ZznZQ_hGyVXCA6doxZ9-wyt1uIlktngrn9YxX0ipjLtyRJo6AcMyWOsMBlkoHV5wiDy1tj7MQibCfzAbJexDSzJJJrnY0VpKUod5kV2tE_EvGDdV/s1600/not.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoh8cCQFhZ1F-bbaOf1GNjYzZoHy1ZznZQ_hGyVXCA6doxZ9-wyt1uIlktngrn9YxX0ipjLtyRJo6AcMyWOsMBlkoHV5wiDy1tj7MQibCfzAbJexDSzJJJrnY0VpKUod5kV2tE_EvGDdV/s320/not.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really??? That's what you're going with???</td></tr>
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I think not... get your shit together Florence.</div>
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Until next time peeps... </div>
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<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span></b></div>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-28456476047332101472015-02-24T16:41:00.002-05:002015-02-25T09:21:40.840-05:00Fashion Faux Pas Friday: the Academy Awards Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What can I say? With a new job, comes new responsibilities and not much time for writing. To be honest... it's been hard to even find my writing muse.<br />
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<em>Me: Where the hell have you've been Muse?</em></div>
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<em>Muse: There are lots of people who write. I'm a busy muse. Get over yourself.</em></div>
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<em>Me: Bullshit, it's been a year. What the heck gives?</em></div>
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<em>Muse: Alright, look, I'm going to let you in a little secret, the last time I committed myself to a writer.... she turned out 50 Shades of Grey. I'm a little tired of catching shit because some people didn't like it. Look I don't control the content, I just inspire people to write what it is they think other people will be entertained by... but apparently there is a new rule that fantasy is no longer a valid genre of writing.</em></div>
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<em>Me: Get out... </em></div>
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<em>Muse: Oh... that AND every author has the moral obligation to use their writing to speak on social injustices.</em></div>
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<em>Me: These people realize that fiction means made-up, right? </em></div>
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<em>Muse: Would we be having this conversation if they did?</em></div>
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There you have it... the Muse has spoken. Anything a writer puts out will be subject to scrutiny and debate. It doesn't matter if the words were only meant to be entertaining or of a fantasy nature.<br />
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In any event, there used to be a <strike>weekly</strike> whenever I got a damn chance feature called Fashion Faux Pas Fridays. The purpose of this re-occurring and featured post was that I would critique and ridicule current trends of couture fashion... In addition to Fridays, special posts were done for Awards shows. <br />
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As we've gone through this year's Red Carpet season... I've debated about posting about the awards shows. One part of me is like why bother? Only Twin reads this and I can just call her and tell her what I thought. Finally after the Oscars however, I thought to myself... "You've always written in the hopes that people are entertained and get a laugh. Whether or not EVERYONE is entertained and gets a chuckle is of no consequence. If one person is entertained, just be happy with that. More importantly, just have fun... oh and we're out of milk." Thanks self and thanks for the reminder because teenagers go through a fuck ton of milk. <br />
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I'm not a professional Fashion Guru and I've never claimed to be. Tim Gunn and Kelly Osbourne aren't going to come banging down my door because I impeded on their territory and demand I print a retraction for the bad opinions I offered. Believe me, they'll never read this... Anyway, I give you the: <br />
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Fashion Faux Pas Friday: The 2015 Academy Awards Edition<br />
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Let's start with the men... let's be honest it's hard to it fuck up if you're a guy. Seriously... take a shower, throw in some hair product, add some cologne and put on your tux. Instant James Bond. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxpEb4Lq09uI3NFXvJ14B68L0mfqiGWqCfpLgywiebj0OtUBFzPE7XI8OPZ3OLqBEZrhIcFymnaIgvs-72RUMuWRoPmrpC0qp3TX-LcAZ_mSFspF4WbD53FyHdnqG_cQQCXzfyofncQrK/s1600/Chris+Pine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxpEb4Lq09uI3NFXvJ14B68L0mfqiGWqCfpLgywiebj0OtUBFzPE7XI8OPZ3OLqBEZrhIcFymnaIgvs-72RUMuWRoPmrpC0qp3TX-LcAZ_mSFspF4WbD53FyHdnqG_cQQCXzfyofncQrK/s1600/Chris+Pine.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris Pine... the new James T Kirk. Well fitted jacket and has the perfect amount of trouser break. Furthermore... the trousers are not of the "skinny" variety. They aren't jeans. They're formal slacks. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2_yL-jfk1tmI4jZlqm0p65QI2mMULvZw_0wct7e10wbFGJhznbpgLxN7xNDA_XNSG-_xXQsyWJsLts9kQXOn_QNtHUTvpwA-AL8bw2FMBb19skOsrVKhZvF8HljwWxzYU__Gedi7LV-w/s1600/Jared+Leto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2_yL-jfk1tmI4jZlqm0p65QI2mMULvZw_0wct7e10wbFGJhznbpgLxN7xNDA_XNSG-_xXQsyWJsLts9kQXOn_QNtHUTvpwA-AL8bw2FMBb19skOsrVKhZvF8HljwWxzYU__Gedi7LV-w/s1600/Jared+Leto.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like Jared Leto, but this Tux.... OY... <br />
The fucking sleeves are too short and so are the trousers... to say nothing of the color. <br />
You look like a tool.... and get a haircut already.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPtmQamAmdqSr6YDMhICgNZQF7n0DFp0HlhpJfnTF45nkBzKlUlB1YLbGmhO0T1A63jfqZ_VlvsHR4b-VmzCkxVp7lgkJTkQmFf7TyrxEBUGZiY_95o3dWpQldWOY6w3W1uOuV7zJVlL1/s1600/david+Oyelowo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPtmQamAmdqSr6YDMhICgNZQF7n0DFp0HlhpJfnTF45nkBzKlUlB1YLbGmhO0T1A63jfqZ_VlvsHR4b-VmzCkxVp7lgkJTkQmFf7TyrxEBUGZiY_95o3dWpQldWOY6w3W1uOuV7zJVlL1/s1600/david+Oyelowo.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Oyelowo... an exception to the rule. <br />
Normally I would say formal equals black or white... but he just proved me wrong. Even the trouser legs are skinny or skinny"ish". Guys usually don't get to make a statement on the Red Carpet. <br />
Props, bro... </td></tr>
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As I stated before... it's hard to fuck up when you're a guy., but some people can still find a way. Did you see Andy Samberg? The guy didn't even bother to have his trousers hemmed. As a honorary woman (as I've been called by some pretty extraordinary blogger ladies) I'd be pissed off at the guy. </div>
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If I have go through the process of getting fitted for a gown, not eating for a week, praying it's not "water retention week", getting waxed, having my nails done and making sure I'm accessorized perfectly with the right shoes, jewelry and handbag/clutch... all because I know I will be under a goddamned microscope and be forced to answer "Who are you wearing"... then you better be able to have your trousers hemmed, you fucking tool. </div>
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Red Carpet interview people.... #AskHerMore!!!!! The women of Hollywood are more than pretty faces and study their craft just like their male counterparts. Ask them about projects. Ask them why they feel they do about their projects. The Red Carpet can be about more than Versace and Calvin Klein and Jimmy Choo.<br />
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Okay... if you've waited and read this far... let's get down to it. You deserve it... </div>
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The best and worst according to Munch.</div>
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<strong>The Worse Dressed</strong></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijo8k-1iPl4S2L27vWol4A3fxEaVhY4KE3EWm75Zo2shM_1s6DY6iI_vfYEEKxkmY1eYwpTmeZOh5g57jYD4w2TsvqZ0SBCCW6HPaKisJRpYK-85bG20gDKk8N39pMzxiPNiavHs158V67/s1600/Nicole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijo8k-1iPl4S2L27vWol4A3fxEaVhY4KE3EWm75Zo2shM_1s6DY6iI_vfYEEKxkmY1eYwpTmeZOh5g57jYD4w2TsvqZ0SBCCW6HPaKisJRpYK-85bG20gDKk8N39pMzxiPNiavHs158V67/s1600/Nicole.jpg" height="400" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're Nicole Kidman dammit... dress like it!!!! <br />
Now sashay away and return that gown to the Queen you stole it from. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzU_Ku51eckQNz49u-AQvAveCPZ3pH6F_pIBGXnQRTu1uxTjYTxp2FJnOlEs4_dpTpxtjjVxgn9nmJccbXtDoCcaz9fssMipGk9-SvFtfkRsDtkF0DXNpmTFtGVJ56GCExKDCLcxoFVRH/s1600/Keira.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzU_Ku51eckQNz49u-AQvAveCPZ3pH6F_pIBGXnQRTu1uxTjYTxp2FJnOlEs4_dpTpxtjjVxgn9nmJccbXtDoCcaz9fssMipGk9-SvFtfkRsDtkF0DXNpmTFtGVJ56GCExKDCLcxoFVRH/s1600/Keira.jpg" height="400" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keira... c'mon you're so beautiful and I get your preggers, but seriously...<br />
the words printed on the dress... it's the Oscars... not the SAGs. Step it up Momma to be. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqkFDGoZqaoLdHL9Rz8iYJDAMlw16iEAyFPlDyp6xnwEvd0Ny7UtuUp-Xjp-4bCyGecdkPVPpfZ90HkpsZkHDUJPm5rYs3P0wdGqCQMCMHDyyTUhTNimgK64i3IVGBw5XvuzCAQmPJicz/s1600/Julianne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqkFDGoZqaoLdHL9Rz8iYJDAMlw16iEAyFPlDyp6xnwEvd0Ny7UtuUp-Xjp-4bCyGecdkPVPpfZ90HkpsZkHDUJPm5rYs3P0wdGqCQMCMHDyyTUhTNimgK64i3IVGBw5XvuzCAQmPJicz/s1600/Julianne.jpg" height="640" width="440" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just. Hated. It<br />
I don't know why... maybe it's because whatever the hell those black things are, they aren't symmetrical. <br />
Far away they looked plastic... like a ruched up garbage bag underneath her gown, trying to break its way out. </td></tr>
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<strong>The Best Dressed</strong></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazbRPKpJy-L0zZDtKypG8Pd0-1FhkqNHRTXST47aIXhfk99qyKbKdDsPghXZUhFAr2VazKylUabcKAt3Fhm_ukZAhD0WEWVk0Q4EJSdGcxLvVFPeN8BTrQmVs1gIjRts0FrUTV_7bino8/s1600/Emma+Stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazbRPKpJy-L0zZDtKypG8Pd0-1FhkqNHRTXST47aIXhfk99qyKbKdDsPghXZUhFAr2VazKylUabcKAt3Fhm_ukZAhD0WEWVk0Q4EJSdGcxLvVFPeN8BTrQmVs1gIjRts0FrUTV_7bino8/s1600/Emma+Stone.jpg" height="400" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Stone... Can this girl do wrong on the Red Carpet this year? <br />
That white porcelain skin and red hair, with the color of that gown?<br />
Love her. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ApsKEhYKzhyBZvUdDadmB3W5PIPe8UWxO4oF7ja2CRd6lhSK_Gaai5bH51W3_ZWyBqp-EAC0HCUwlPoqKmsTtcdmUyyCXmWX1cw6HO0TCRvRU_oyP2QKM4NHPmUo-6RuS-_UoeMhIN5u/s1600/Margot+Robbie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ApsKEhYKzhyBZvUdDadmB3W5PIPe8UWxO4oF7ja2CRd6lhSK_Gaai5bH51W3_ZWyBqp-EAC0HCUwlPoqKmsTtcdmUyyCXmWX1cw6HO0TCRvRU_oyP2QKM4NHPmUo-6RuS-_UoeMhIN5u/s1600/Margot+Robbie.jpg" height="400" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margot Robbie... hair, dress, plunging neckline, red lipstick... just yes. <br />
Fantastic </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIAJ13KYMAKfQbxXzYbu2i5w47V_SMLJGS7BXpZfI-yY6Bs72s-VLCJW9Irkrj4E2L6ZEDYOkCpOSHYrUzTO3Q1eFrXejnAdSK34brnAE3x_t0XIH5_A_dSgBziggFRC9DRjww0PSmviu/s1600/Rosamund.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIAJ13KYMAKfQbxXzYbu2i5w47V_SMLJGS7BXpZfI-yY6Bs72s-VLCJW9Irkrj4E2L6ZEDYOkCpOSHYrUzTO3Q1eFrXejnAdSK34brnAE3x_t0XIH5_A_dSgBziggFRC9DRjww0PSmviu/s1600/Rosamund.jpg" height="400" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Normally not a fan of red on red like this but Rosamund Pike hit it out of the park with this. <br />
Gorgeous (although I'm still pissed about her killing Barney)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAup2_d50uHIgOKTmQrhFTDVU8ogsNO7cDEj8Jx9DGDseILDzvQQr_pmbjKe-LozapqqjOd6PbcTIKt0-WFNt-pU2x88jeuXxLA4vatjl7-RN5w4nbIb61HMfYQrhN4y0tylP3D1gy_ys/s1600/Zoe+Saldana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAup2_d50uHIgOKTmQrhFTDVU8ogsNO7cDEj8Jx9DGDseILDzvQQr_pmbjKe-LozapqqjOd6PbcTIKt0-WFNt-pU2x88jeuXxLA4vatjl7-RN5w4nbIb61HMfYQrhN4y0tylP3D1gy_ys/s1600/Zoe+Saldana.jpg" height="400" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zoe Saldana... I literally popped out of my seat and was like DAAAAANNUMMMMMMM. This picture does not do her gown and how amazing she looked in it justice. It was perfection. It clung to all the right curves and hugged her body like a glove. The necklace was the perfect accessory piece and the tendrils of hair cascading down. </td></tr>
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And my BEST Dressed of the evening... goes to Ms. Anna Kendrick. I heard a remark that her dress was not dressy enough for the Oscars. I totally disagree and love everything about her gown. The coral was a beautiful color on her and the crystal /jeweled neckline as part of the dress was beautiful. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGjuPhNh3RkCAIFlwa48vYgpa4PpTYqtMbbqAnaq5dh6Aui9hcfHyrwKb22sJ20PDXDRJc739LEsRRyTRzeNUg0JfiWvDJ1dQFLNdN3V6btYwgd5FjtBmTMM7nJB2xDBC3sJsSpRfodD2/s1600/Anna+Kendrick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGjuPhNh3RkCAIFlwa48vYgpa4PpTYqtMbbqAnaq5dh6Aui9hcfHyrwKb22sJ20PDXDRJc739LEsRRyTRzeNUg0JfiWvDJ1dQFLNdN3V6btYwgd5FjtBmTMM7nJB2xDBC3sJsSpRfodD2/s1600/Anna+Kendrick.jpg" height="640" width="450" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nom Nom Nom... <br />
So hot... want to touch the heiney</td></tr>
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Next year... I'm hoping they #AskHerMore and for an end to all skinny pants on guys. <br />
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<em><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">Munch</span></strong></em><br />
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<br />
Why are so many kids little fucking shits? Back when I was a kid (I was a child of the 70s/80s), kids respected their elders... period. And if they didn't, they sure as hell knew to keep their mouths shut and not throw a fucking tantrum about something being unfair. If they did, they better be ready to endure the shit storm that was going follow. <br />
<br />
In our quest to keep up with the Joneses we've allowed a basic premise of parenting to slide by the wayside.... parenting. If your kid doesn't do anything but play videogames during the summer and is disrespectful to you when you tell him/her to stop it, then asking "What do I do? I've tried "EVERYTHING" on social media. <br />
<br />
No you haven't. If you had, you would have yanked that fucking gaming system out of the wall and taken his/her other shit away too. Are you a dainty flower who is worried about her son overpowering her? That's not a problem. I'm sure you know a man or neighbor who you get along with well enough, who is bigger than your boy and who your kid is not going to mouth off too. Still a problem? Drive your kid to the local Police station... they'll still stick your kid in a cell free of charge for a couple of hours, so that they think about why it's important to respect Mom and Dad.<br />
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Stop listening to or getting advise from people on social media... me included. Trust your gut as a parent. No one is a fucking expert when it comes to kids... if someone is telling you they are, then they're a fucking liar or suffering from delusions of grandeur. Every single kid that you will have is going to be different than the other. They will have different needs and act differently. What parenting method worked on one, won't work on the other. Think of parenting as a game of chess. <br />
<br />
Chess: Being able to change game strategies and tactics, as your opponent changes his/hers... is necessary to win.<br />
<br />
Parenting: being able to adapt and change your parenting methods, as your children display different personalities/behaviors is necessary to be successful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPm1x6NlKlzSMOe9acsxPzCZcopB5V6TAGQe86DpIc9YYhk1EX8NDMR5YUpRh3r2YeIKBgyTVcWiukPyGY-yxatwPUXtIOTXzvRIeE5SgYgZ5KdLP8jT0WV8A2P5ljAIRogcLLr7AACFpr/s1600/Palmolive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPm1x6NlKlzSMOe9acsxPzCZcopB5V6TAGQe86DpIc9YYhk1EX8NDMR5YUpRh3r2YeIKBgyTVcWiukPyGY-yxatwPUXtIOTXzvRIeE5SgYgZ5KdLP8jT0WV8A2P5ljAIRogcLLr7AACFpr/s1600/Palmolive.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not recommended for washing out your kid's mouth, but great <br />
for washing dishes and keeping your hands looking young.</td></tr>
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Is profanity a problem with your kid? There is no such thing as soap poisoning... your kid won't die and it's not abuse (provided you're not a dumb ass, who dumps half a bottle of Palmolive down your kid's suck hole) I'm talking about tried and true bar soap. Worked on just about every kid I know. We may have swore around each other after, but we sure as fuck didn't do it around our parents or anyone else's parents. <br />
<br />
Discipline. Different aged children require different discipline methods. A single pop on the ass and a "No" to get their attention when they're little... I guarantee that's going to get Cutsiepoo's attention, more so than a time out when they're 2 or 3. They're also not going to remember getting that Pop on the ass when they're adult. I'm not talking about a belt or a paddle to the ass either. I'm talking about your hand and their little butts. It doesn't need to be hard. It's a pop. It's an attention getter. It's not to meant to hurt, its meant to get their attention and stop the behavior. Their little butts fit in the palms of your hands for a reason... just saying. Don't be afraid to use when necessary.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYNIlmi7StTsOoSl3PRPxZBYwV_bZ60B2pMN2yWfbwclN8unfTxP9Ubqrpy1y67gXiDmNVfFEX9YX3oOt9v19AiU1HTYJ0HWbIzfQtiBExEUqeF1BnlzHtw8qKOOSkn-Kw0hXQKcRtDEH/s1600/spanking1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYNIlmi7StTsOoSl3PRPxZBYwV_bZ60B2pMN2yWfbwclN8unfTxP9Ubqrpy1y67gXiDmNVfFEX9YX3oOt9v19AiU1HTYJ0HWbIzfQtiBExEUqeF1BnlzHtw8qKOOSkn-Kw0hXQKcRtDEH/s1600/spanking1.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not for spanking your kids... if you're using this then you're a sadist. </td></tr>
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<br />
As your kids move into the young child stage, spankings aren't going to be very effective. Timeouts? A better alternative, because your kid can now rationalize and better understand the concept of right and wrong; and think about why his/her behavior was wrong as they sit there. (They're also probably developed enough logic, to ask you why you're hitting them if hitting is wrong) <br />
<br />
My kids are older now, so would I try to spank my 13 year old or put him in a timeout? Of course not. In fact, I haven't spanked Mini in years. When he does wrong, which isn't often, his mother and I ground him or take his cool shit away. Whether its a gaming system or his phone. The same goes for Special K. At 10, she gets things taken away too or she may end up not getting to go to a classmate's birthday party / sleep over. <br />
<br />
See what I've done there? Over the years I've changed and adapted, based on what works best for my kids... because there isn't a one size fits all. Maybe you have a genius child that was capable of logic and rationalizing, while he/she was doing calculus in the womb... obviously then a spanking for your kid won't work. He/She already knows its not good to run into the street chasing after a ball or that throwing sand is bad. <br />
<br />
Two more things on kids and we'll move along. <br />
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Circumcision... do I have my own opinion on it? Yes I do and I'm quite passionate about it. Am I going to get up all in your business with my opinion, when it comes time for you to decide. Nope. None of my business. If you ask me about it. I'll calmly tell you my opinion on it and then advise you to seek advise from others as well. <br />
<br />
Breastfeeding in public... It's a boob. Whip that bitch out and let your child suckle away. It's a natural process of a mother feeding her child. If someone finds it offensive, then they're the problem. With that being said... if you're in a place and for whatever reason they have signs that say no breastfeeding. Respect that or stop patronizing that small ass minded place immediately. If they ask you to cover up and your baby tolerates that... then cover up, feed your baby and THEN stop patronizing that small-ass minded place. I'm sorry, but it's still taboo. That's REALLY stupid I know. Eventually it will get to a place where it isn't, but until it is... let's have respect for each other... not just ourselves. <br />
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That brings me to entitlement... when the fuck did we become a nation of entitlement? This attitude that its all about me and mine. It's one thing to say "Please mind your own business". It's another for one person or group to say you need to re-write the rules for me or for us. This is really pertaining to situations where one group feels that they're entitled to something to be provided for free. Repeat after me... there is no such thing as a free lunch. If it's something you need, shouldn't you pay for it, if you're an able bodied person capable of work? Are there exceptions? Of course, sometimes people need REAL help and giving help is a noble thing... and sometimes the only right thing to do. However, is providing shit for free to people on an ongoing basis, at the expense of others a long term solution? No. I don't believe it is. Why? Someone always has to pay. Whether it's your employer or taxpayers... someone is paying for it. <br />
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Female empowerment. Something has been bugging me since the MTV VMAs. I saw a lot of comments and remarks flying around social media about female empowerment and a LOT of "go girls"!!! Really??? Because to me, Nicki Minaj looked like a whore and was "dancing" much like some strippers I've seen. I'm sorry, but I don't equate scantily clad women gyrating and twerking like hookers to being powerful, independent and sexy women. When I think of strong women that are music artists, who've pushed for female empowerment. I think of artists like Shania Twain, Pink, and Kelly Clarkson. Women who sang about female independence and empowerment without having to drop to their skivvies and shake their ass to make a point. And they're all incredibly sexy as fuck too I might add. That's just my opinion though. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAO7O670xWIB6LVSGp-vZCg8Bf5wt3Xw600nayISeJjYAniH9QlUsyxPOs6iqKlwMon38rpj6MLyuIv1nsmv_TXH3IH9d3qt5ICRrqcp28Bj-DxddI8xLdRrJww4Ys-k5FKNTC32Y_ihS/s1600/15767532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAO7O670xWIB6LVSGp-vZCg8Bf5wt3Xw600nayISeJjYAniH9QlUsyxPOs6iqKlwMon38rpj6MLyuIv1nsmv_TXH3IH9d3qt5ICRrqcp28Bj-DxddI8xLdRrJww4Ys-k5FKNTC32Y_ihS/s1600/15767532.jpg" height="276" width="320" /></a></div>
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These women and girls are role models to young girls and tweens. Do you really want your young daughters to emulate the dancing and dressing of some of these young, music artists? I for one don't. I want us to teach our daughters that they can be confident, independent and sexy without putting their bodies on display. So yes, to me it is about clothes. Simply put and with apologies to Dr. Seuss... <br />
<br />
Short-short shorts and cropped up tops. I will not, do not, like these clothes. <br />
<br />
As parents, especially the Moms out there, please teach your daughters to respect, love and clothe the body they have. Most importantly, please teach her to dress for the venue she is going too. Tell her if she has to ask herself is this outfit appropriate for where I'm going... chances are, it's not. I'm not stating that shorts aren't appropriate or that a short skirt is unacceptable. You all know the clothing I'm talking about. Tweens wearing shorts that stop just short of the natural crease between the hips and legs... Teens wearing skin tight leggings with nothing covering the bum or skirts that would do a 20 y/o club dress wearer proud. I'm not a prude... but for fuck's sake... c'mon.... these are young ladies. They need guidance and direction. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMo6kJOzCfsRYZN7PfLW23qfVmBleFMcuSgr1uQat47x41D4wm3DYaArebkjRDSB4LdNfHHcp0HQhLzBRNyfSXIYdS0j4R2JLwOSHDg7EooP2YQC2iYKjH-wqSGCM54aRTIoBBda6Lqak/s1600/dirty+dorothy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMo6kJOzCfsRYZN7PfLW23qfVmBleFMcuSgr1uQat47x41D4wm3DYaArebkjRDSB4LdNfHHcp0HQhLzBRNyfSXIYdS0j4R2JLwOSHDg7EooP2YQC2iYKjH-wqSGCM54aRTIoBBda6Lqak/s1600/dirty+dorothy.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lolita-ish... not age appropriate for your daughter. Totally<br />
appropriate for you to wear for your husband.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SNKMTJxNAvW4d1CjVXlBhC5lQ3NU29E9YFbGtD1TjAERo86u6DLV9xdBw25bONUXp6_faRpCsHZoM7GpBz0pzkfQlq1zAyZpO0qtgA_zza11rDTIfNUCAfDWiJRAv3o1NeiX7Fs9MXSV/s1600/mint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SNKMTJxNAvW4d1CjVXlBhC5lQ3NU29E9YFbGtD1TjAERo86u6DLV9xdBw25bONUXp6_faRpCsHZoM7GpBz0pzkfQlq1zAyZpO0qtgA_zza11rDTIfNUCAfDWiJRAv3o1NeiX7Fs9MXSV/s1600/mint.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Short, but still cute and <br />
leaves something to the imagination</td></tr>
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Dad's... teach your sons to respect girls and women. That girl is someone's daughter, someone's sister. That woman is all the above and probably someone's mother. WE have to make sure our boys respect women. They don't learn it on their own. This is something that has to be taught to them and that they see US doing as well. Part of how we can do that is by putting the shoe on the other foot. How would they feel if it was their sister or it was their Mom that was being ogled.<br />
<br />
Men are visual. We get turned on by what we see, but we have to teach our sons control though. We have to make sure our sons understand that even if a girl is dressed like a hooker, she may not want sex. Or... if she does want sex, that she may change her mind. That whole concept of "a woman's prerogative" that they didn't teach us about in school... yeah that. We have to teach that to our sons and ensure they understand that when a girl says "No!"... it means just that, "No!" <br />
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Look we can't keep teens from being teens... or stopping girls from changing clothes when one they step outside. Maybe however, by having open and honest dialogue about sex... maybe then the mystery won't be as much of a mystery. <br />
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I'm got a lot more on my mind... but this is getting too long and I really have to get some real work done. As always comments welcome. Be respectful. Please present dissenting opinions with intelligent responses. (Proper grammar as well, if you'd like a response)<br />
<br />
Munch<br />
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-77936151116503535612014-09-06T15:56:00.001-04:002014-09-06T15:56:12.867-04:00My Twin - The Mystery RevealedSisters. They're your first best friends. They're your first worst enemy. <br />
<br />
I have four... two that I've been blessed to have in my life since I was five. One that was removed from my childhood when I was three and then reintroduced when I was sixteen-ish. The last one, I just met in the last five years. Different sisters with different personalities, different lives, and yet similar, in that they have me for a brother. Over time, I've made them extremely proud and extremely frustrated. I've made them cry, I make them laugh. <br />
<br />
My post today however, isn't about my sisters as a whole. It's only about one. My Twin... who is not my twin, but really is. If you been a fan of the page, or this poorly maintained blog of mine then you've heard me refer to "My Twin". My Twin is my slightly younger, step sister. (Five months, six days) for those keeping track. <br />
<br />
Today is her birthday, days our family really doesn't really go out the way to celebrate. It's usually a card, a phone call or an occasional dinner. But typically it's a hooray for you, shut up and eat your cake or drink your booze kinda day. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9Um3-5lXjwS7CVnevEbNb-T4pPEX60sdeIJaVrsjbgedr4LuhATvR9yoK9QSrhZxllRDwxhmQYd6E83-fo0GRI8ww33FHr39i7oCDQPo16nq-Ean2f8NBtt5ZNt7921dbOr3gKKdhZRY/s1600/Avril+Lavigne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9Um3-5lXjwS7CVnevEbNb-T4pPEX60sdeIJaVrsjbgedr4LuhATvR9yoK9QSrhZxllRDwxhmQYd6E83-fo0GRI8ww33FHr39i7oCDQPo16nq-Ean2f8NBtt5ZNt7921dbOr3gKKdhZRY/s1600/Avril+Lavigne.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My princess crown is bigger, but you get the gist of what I'm saying </td></tr>
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Anyway.... like most step siblings... she and I were not always the best of friends. Throughout 5th - 11th grade we ran in different cliques. She was the All-American girl. Sweet, pretty and <strike>somewhat</strike> ALWAYS demure. I was no none of those things. I was short, awkward, and a nerd who never fit in with any crowd until about high school when I eventually grew and people were like "There you are. How've you been?" <br /><br />I suspect however that if it hadn't been for her... my adolescent years would have been worse than they were with more bullying and such. Boys liked my sister and even a teenage boy knows not to mess with the nerdy brother of the girl he'd like to make out with.<br />
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It was during this time that our relationship while not enemies, wasn't what it is now. She largely ignored my comings and goings; and I likewise with her. Most of conversations went something like this... (out of earshot from our parents of course) <br />
<br />
Twin: Stop being such a dork. I'm tired of being embarrassed by you. <br />
Munch: F**& you. <br />
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Our only commonality in those days was explaining to dipshits the concept of why were in the same grade and didn't share a birthday.<br />
<br />
That however was soon to change...<br />
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The summer before our Senior year in High School, just as I was becoming semi-quasi cool and things we're going better for us all, we moved from Wyoming back to Ohio. My Dad had left his job as a Deputy Sheriff and had gained new employment in Columbus, OH; where we were originally from. It was painful for my sister and I. You grow up with your friends, dream about graduation, and look forward to what will be the best year ever; only to find out that it's not what fate has in mind for you. While painful, I have to look back and say I'm grateful that it happened, as My Twin and I probably wouldn't enjoy the relationship we do today if it hadn't. <br />
<br />
And so really begins the story... moving back was hard. It involved a large pay cut for Mom and Dad. As such, we all contributed to the household income and chores. More so than we already did due to everyone's work schedules. My sister and I gave 50% of our meager income to my parents to assist with household bills.<br /><br /> Moving our Senior year also involved another challenge... making new friends. Most of us know or have heard how hard it is to make friends for a new kid. I can tell you its only worse when you're a Senior AND you're a new kid. Cliques have already been formed and friendships set... simply put, we were the weird kids from Wyoming who are in the same grade but weren't Twins. Now while I was use to being an outsider... my sister was not. She was also dealing with the loss of her High School Sweetheart. (D-R-A-M-A... YOU HEAR ME PEOPLE?)<br />
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While we both managed to make friends... they weren't the same kind of relationships we'd had with our old friends in Wyoming. What it did, was to force us to talk to each other and really get to know the other. We went out together a lot. To movies, to putt-putt, to the mall.... sometimes just us and other times with a group of kids from school. Our trust was in each other and not many others. To cap it off around this time, our parents (technically my Mom and her Dad) were having problems. Looking back now... after being married myself, I understand a lot better than I did then what was causing the problems in the marriage. The only reason I bring that up, was how it affected Twin and I. We were both scarred... for them and for us. We generally only had each other. Cool Ass Big Sis was around, but she was in college. She worked a lot as well and didn't live with us. Being forced apart would have been detrimental to Twin and I both, as we were each other's support system. In the end however, Mom and Dad stayed together. Crisis avoided and a lesson learned for each of us about relationships and divorce and kids. <br />
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After High School, I left for the Marine Corps and Twin went on to College. It was hard. I missed the person that had become pretty much my best friend. With that said... life happens and in the absence of our friends, even best ones... we go on to make new ones. She did and I did. <br />
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We may not be best-ties anymore and we are both are getting older. We have our own lives and schedules, which keep us busy and often apart. When we do get together though... the friendship hasn't changed much. We're still the friends who were... just more "mature". When I see her number pop up my cell phone I smile. When our families get together, I smile because I know I get to see her. I get giddy meeting her for dinner, drinks and people <strike>judging</strike> watching or even just for morning coffee, before she goes to her teaching job. <br />
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She teaches 6th grade at the Middle School where my son attends and where my daughter will start next year. Obviously she cannot teach my kids, but I find a lot of comfort knowing she is there with them. <br />
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As adults, we no longer get the you're in same grade? Are you twins? Now, it's just the surprise we encounter when parents or students discover we're brother and sister. As always, I'm asked are you twins? I just smile because in all honesty I think we are as close as twins... while we don't have our own secret language, we do have our own uniquely close sibling relationship. <br />
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Fate was kind when it choose to move us our Senior year. <br />
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Happy Birthday Twin!!! I Love you!<br />
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-52320600328474484942014-06-11T17:43:00.001-04:002014-06-11T17:43:22.809-04:00To my Sister<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When mom and dad don’t understand, a sister always will. ~Author Unknown</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf786JhtUp7DKBpcqwnPUap88pJGF1YqwXZbwr1deP5QQFrZ4nARn-khUGj_Rm5mZbVBm2Okbf1WrBZIjA7WA_saBi823z1hLsmTK4dfGRR-FWJXFgR_-S2W3QqYYzKSST8Au0u4bgJnt/s1600/pooh-bear-hundred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf786JhtUp7DKBpcqwnPUap88pJGF1YqwXZbwr1deP5QQFrZ4nARn-khUGj_Rm5mZbVBm2Okbf1WrBZIjA7WA_saBi823z1hLsmTK4dfGRR-FWJXFgR_-S2W3QqYYzKSST8Au0u4bgJnt/s1600/pooh-bear-hundred.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You were there to help me to pack when I wanted to run away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You were there to trash my room when I went away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You were there to protect me when I was bullied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You were there to encourage when I needed to be myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You are here today...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Still the comedian</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Still the protector</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Always a teacher </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Cool Ass Big Sis.... the best Big Sister ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Happy Birthday! Love you!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span>Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-75622886969065545532014-02-10T17:02:00.001-05:002014-02-10T17:02:25.884-05:00Counterpoint - "distressed babies" <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This will likely not be a popular post. So be it. I don't judge people on their past. Making mistakes is important part of how people learn. Bloggers included.</div>
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Can some people stand to make due with a little more sensitivity? Sure... <br />
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Can some stand to make due with a little less, it's all about me sensitivity? Yes...</div>
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Aol. is in the news. Specifically, CEO Tim Armstrong is in the news over an answer he provided during a Town Hall meeting with employees; to address changes made to the company's 401K policy. The company changed it's monthly "matching" contribution to a "lump sum" year-end contribution.<br />
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In the interest of being transparent and helping employees understand the decision to change the company benefit, Mr. Anderson said this:<br />
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<em>“Two things that happened in 2012,” Armstrong said. “We had two AOL-ers that had distressed babies that were born that we paid a million dollars each to make sure those babies were OK in general. And those are the things that add up into our benefits cost. So when we had the final decision about what benefits to cut because of the increased healthcare costs, we made the decision, and I made the decision, to basically change the 401(k) plan.”</em><br />
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After these remarks were made, an AOL employee's wife, wrote this <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/double_x/doublex/2014/02/tim_armstrong_blames_distressed_babies_for_aol_benefit_cuts_he_s_talking.2.html#" target="_blank">piece</a> for Slate. <br />
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In the article, Deanna Fey comes forward to say: "For the record: It was me. I don’t work for AOL; my husband does. One of those “distressed babies” was our daughter." <br />
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She went on to write:<br />
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<em>"Some commentators have questioned the implausibility of “million-dollar babies.” I have no expertise in health care costs, but I have a 3-inch thick folder of hospital bills that range from a few dollars and cents to the high six figures (before insurance adjustments). So even though it’s unlikely that AOL directly paid out those sums, I don’t take issue with Armstrong’s number.<br /><br />I take issue with how he reduced my daughter to a “distressed baby” who cost the company too much money. How he blamed the saving of her life for his decision to scale back employee benefits. How he exposed the most searing experience of our lives, one that my husband and I still struggle to discuss with anyone but each other, for no other purpose than an absurd justification for corporate cost-cutting."</em><br />
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Where to begin with this...</div>
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First and foremost my heart does go out to the family. Having a pre-mature infant must be among one of the scariest things to face as a woman, a mother, and an expecting couple. The fact that your daughter is now starting to experience milestones, as other children do, is a testimate to the quality of healthcare in this country. </div>
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Now, on to the business side. </div>
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The CEO did not identify your family. YOU did. </div>
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Why? Why the need to? No HIPPA violation occurred here. Of the <a href="http://edgar.secdatabase.com/908/119312513084847/filing-main.htm" target="_blank">5600 employees employed by AOL</a> , you assumed he was citing your family. Truth be told, in a corporation that large, you have no way to positively identify that it was your daughter's claim that the CEO spoke of. In an effort to be (again the word: transparent) he cited factors which led him to the decision to change the 401K benefit and how the company administered it. </div>
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<em>"A “distressed baby” who cost the company too much money.How he blamed the saving of her life for his decision to scale back employee benefits. How he exposed the most searing experience of our lives, one that my husband and I still struggle to discuss with anyone but each other, for no other purpose than an absurd justification for corporate cost-cutting." </em></div>
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He didn't do any of that. You inferred that from what he said. At the end of the day, here's the thing... You would only be feeling the way you do, if there was truth in what you inferred from his remarks. That's kinda harsh, but it is reality</div>
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<em>"All of which made the implication from Armstrong that the saving of her life was an extravagant option, an oversize burden on the company bottom line, feel like a cruel violation, no less brutal for the ludicrousness of his contention. </em><br />
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<em>Let’s set aside the fact that Armstrong—who took home $12 million in pay in 2012—felt the need to announce a cut in employee benefits on the very day that he touted the best quarterly earnings in years. For me and my husband—who have been genuinely grateful for AOL’s benefits, which are actually quite generous—the hardest thing to bear has been the whiff of judgment in Armstrong's statement, as if we selfishly gobbled up an obscenely large slice of the collective health care pie."</em><br />
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Nowhere did I see that said by the company CEO. The fact is, your family had a large claims utilization year. That happens. Last year, my wife had one hospitalization and an outpatient surgery. We too, had a larger than normal claims utilization year. When a company has a large claims utilization period... premium for the group normally rises and those costs are shared by its employees. Higher risk=higher premium dollars. <br />
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To think however that high dollar cases like yours or mine do not have an affect or have impact the decision making process of a company's owner or Board of Directors is naïve. To take it personal... that's just unnecessary. You paid your premium and your entitled to all the care proscribed by your benefits plan. End of story. You have nothing to feel guilty for. </div>
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Speaking of benefits... AOL is offering a benefits package, which you yourself described as "very generous". Part of that benefits package includes matching 401K contributions. As with any employer, benefits change... based on the company's bottom line. Sometimes they change for the better and sometimes for the worse. No matter what however, there is no mandate about how much, how often or even IF an employer must offer additional benefits on top of salary.</div>
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A CEO salary of $12 million. Yeah, I agree it's pretty crazy, but that's what the Board has determined his worth to be. Can a company have a good year or even the best year; and then raise, lower or do nothing about employee benefits? Sure. Maybe they have a R & D project working. Maybe there is something on the horizon which will eat up a chunk of the company's cash reserves and to offset that... benefits must be reduced. Who knows? Your employer that's who. The Senior management team. Will they always be transparent with plans? Likely not. There is still classified/ need to know areas within every company. </div>
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Did Tim specifically call you out?</div>
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No. </div>
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Was he intentionally trying to make you feel bad?</div>
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No</div>
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Were the two babies cited as examples the only factors in the decision making process. <br />
Very likely not. </div>
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Was he making an effort to help your husband's co-workers understand the decision making process? Yes. </div>
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Did he utilize bad judgment in citing the two examples he did? </div>
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Possibly</div>
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Has he tried to rectify this with you personally? Based on what I've read, yes. The man has apologized. Accept it. Stop turning this into something it's not. An attack on your family.</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span> </div>
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-14050092415875463422014-01-16T14:40:00.000-05:002014-01-16T14:41:01.139-05:00The Musings of Munch: Fashion Faux Paus Fridays; 2014 Golden Globes Edition!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOR8R0-8R4MiSA7EzFkBCZVaKoKpAqAVCo7aRowVgzkgHdEsCD232_3bwhujc8WHAPgpBoV67jUPZt6yyLwusKh79rtgwsPowSY2WkLxI15bZ-gdMdZUxo_QCCapC6v0gbL3waT7_J3gg8/s1600/golden_globes_2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOR8R0-8R4MiSA7EzFkBCZVaKoKpAqAVCo7aRowVgzkgHdEsCD232_3bwhujc8WHAPgpBoV67jUPZt6yyLwusKh79rtgwsPowSY2WkLxI15bZ-gdMdZUxo_QCCapC6v0gbL3waT7_J3gg8/s1600/golden_globes_2014.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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So... Twin is a total pain in my ass... she has hounded me nonstop since Monday, about doing this post. (which isn't even going to be that good) But still... as those of us lucky enough to be <strike>blacklisted</strike> blessed with little sisters know... They don't stop until they get what they want. They're relentless, because they were the babies growing up and they always get their way.<br />
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Apparently where she lives, which is LITERALLY next to the Governor of the State of Ohio, the cable or satellite providers did not offer DVR Service. Why the need to DVR? Because Twin needs her rest and isn't up late enough to watch things like award shows. (Even though she only cares about the dresses and who wore what) And even though the red carpet show is broadcast from 7:00 - 8:00 and she should totally be able to watch that... the hour before she goes to sleep 8:00pm every night is reserved for "sleep prep". <br />
So in any event... she leaves it to me to write these posts, to critique Hollywood couture, as if I'm some type of expert. (Which I totally am, so shut your face) This way she can discuss and amaze her peers with her knowledge and opinions of Hollywood Red Carpet Couture. <br />
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So without further ado... here we go,<br />
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The Musings of Munch: Fashion Faux Paus Fridays; 2014 Golden Globes Edition!!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLz2Ow3zKsmU4I1rDRU9k3-rbN9YZGVgfufLTYysSbre41S7iNvekNLoaIf-6eoRZiRtBewoaiXQj-WpmLWox6w-Qum0QOh7yc8PKBmm8tbG-TXAuao_wraEvmpO9lQz7cFF3VHKOv26b7/s1600/allison+Williams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLz2Ow3zKsmU4I1rDRU9k3-rbN9YZGVgfufLTYysSbre41S7iNvekNLoaIf-6eoRZiRtBewoaiXQj-WpmLWox6w-Qum0QOh7yc8PKBmm8tbG-TXAuao_wraEvmpO9lQz7cFF3VHKOv26b7/s1600/allison+Williams.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Ms. Amanda Williams. PETA enema #1 right now. <br />
She didn't get the memo about not wearing your pet zebra </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_D8JP62YP-e5kk5DbVXmCITypTBqbpp0IH-lgreuIM2WCJ2a5w6jeKUBZPX94eq385KGxgxx-jxDbMADEjcCAjO_t-zg54AKv47Rg32JAZ8d86hgXxZJt2q33nQALMluO_uIhdhYLz7hC/s1600/amy+adams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_D8JP62YP-e5kk5DbVXmCITypTBqbpp0IH-lgreuIM2WCJ2a5w6jeKUBZPX94eq385KGxgxx-jxDbMADEjcCAjO_t-zg54AKv47Rg32JAZ8d86hgXxZJt2q33nQALMluO_uIhdhYLz7hC/s1600/amy+adams.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love that Amy Adams was daring... BUT... American Hustle filming is over.<br />
The plunging necklines like these... not one of my favorite retro trends.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9lPBdRJUNQx2hAwRBmKq1TMiTA0zwnblC_-JwpCPwMngnfiOekNIB_VspIyEkZXW3p4Rxr6t8bnMnZWKkj3Gsz4TGh9vca4Zcohn0IQ2CUesmxUW_a8Xj_1oyIpDoMIQH_daqEOapfqR/s1600/ariel+winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9lPBdRJUNQx2hAwRBmKq1TMiTA0zwnblC_-JwpCPwMngnfiOekNIB_VspIyEkZXW3p4Rxr6t8bnMnZWKkj3Gsz4TGh9vca4Zcohn0IQ2CUesmxUW_a8Xj_1oyIpDoMIQH_daqEOapfqR/s1600/ariel+winter.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look up the definition of ethereal beauty...<br />
you see a pic of Ariel Winter</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eiBufB22Wr0r4XGuImQai4tuYtujR3fo8HYOGun2UW9h6j7fdSlJvPxumWFGXdBED1oAmGJnIamNU2K_k3yvyfOip058eblW2d8KXQFgBB_rOEZSu8qpvS7KS5XKJ4XrHGOLkwVQdJRj/s1600/Aubrey+plaza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eiBufB22Wr0r4XGuImQai4tuYtujR3fo8HYOGun2UW9h6j7fdSlJvPxumWFGXdBED1oAmGJnIamNU2K_k3yvyfOip058eblW2d8KXQFgBB_rOEZSu8qpvS7KS5XKJ4XrHGOLkwVQdJRj/s1600/Aubrey+plaza.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purple and Pink, the colors? Yes!!!<br />
Purple and Pink together on this dress?<br />
ehhh,... not so much<br />
(although I do love me some taffeta, dammit!) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywP4-foQpym-LRrBq69qqEnttJpTc6RgOjTwuxLbolc2SP4psNdP0OaQGHCT8CRuFc9-rbfgPuvX5hYSEIdRSutle1RsN2xyN6nHtFP_fx9pNRnLeWWG7HSIA_cj1NczJAntyVioXU3sr/s1600/drew+barrymore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjywP4-foQpym-LRrBq69qqEnttJpTc6RgOjTwuxLbolc2SP4psNdP0OaQGHCT8CRuFc9-rbfgPuvX5hYSEIdRSutle1RsN2xyN6nHtFP_fx9pNRnLeWWG7HSIA_cj1NczJAntyVioXU3sr/s1600/drew+barrymore.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ohhhhh... Drew, not you too! Pregnancy brain strikes again!<br />
Pregnancy is never an excuse to wear dingle berries</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKVb_ZpRBRD0VgRKtFEgLyZcF6DR2o3kz5b-l7FHT40Fu8eJRQ8o1aK4lKsmcp5_jH4KLemLX56866xNCtVG594e3xNR0LvN5L5pBN7-A5Ae8HRBnVOmq3S9NQN1tipz9PYnpSBeZjkxY/s1600/edie+falco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKVb_ZpRBRD0VgRKtFEgLyZcF6DR2o3kz5b-l7FHT40Fu8eJRQ8o1aK4lKsmcp5_jH4KLemLX56866xNCtVG594e3xNR0LvN5L5pBN7-A5Ae8HRBnVOmq3S9NQN1tipz9PYnpSBeZjkxY/s1600/edie+falco.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DA' FAQ? <br />
Sailor Moon called.. she wants her bow back!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tdJWpikV2guetsh3s1I3eA7kdNrXQBnAbGxnyc935qp62Ft9yhg0ksJ8wbqEUTVe6IwiFs2c62nYdepvQsq67mG2vElBYUu2ufxn0WLqwkOhMPY_bbW_SrcukTEV0LQF7HjPVmD0AJ5y/s1600/elisabeth+moss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tdJWpikV2guetsh3s1I3eA7kdNrXQBnAbGxnyc935qp62Ft9yhg0ksJ8wbqEUTVe6IwiFs2c62nYdepvQsq67mG2vElBYUu2ufxn0WLqwkOhMPY_bbW_SrcukTEV0LQF7HjPVmD0AJ5y/s1600/elisabeth+moss.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elisabeth... I like you and I want to like your dress... <br />
haaaa... kidding... I don't.... it's fugly. <br />
Please hire a stylist...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXX7bvH6vGI_fP8viH_pJqVQhnciXBxFZKTa2Xzja_COgbYG3vOPS4VXLgjbCEmHNqMYZRSPdFDXYO_qG40Mh-cB_psK9cwuKl4_13e13zSWzh0JnDq6RcVDNg9tRUr9BX99MY8ImVGbyI/s1600/emma+roberts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXX7bvH6vGI_fP8viH_pJqVQhnciXBxFZKTa2Xzja_COgbYG3vOPS4VXLgjbCEmHNqMYZRSPdFDXYO_qG40Mh-cB_psK9cwuKl4_13e13zSWzh0JnDq6RcVDNg9tRUr9BX99MY8ImVGbyI/s1600/emma+roberts.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Roberts<br />
FUCKING.NAILED.IT<br />
Gorgeous, classic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRHYE8OEu0Iq0ZY7UzjViFMZk4Da5aHFV5pylZsbqqJGDqsVnp0pkUs-627nJaIO0rKX9YGMQ6p9jPdTIpM4mYB621Kr_yK1vaiqlNk5TkgXfI-zPAxG6oz7_WdHDU7iF9JC3skPoC-JM/s1600/emma+watson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRHYE8OEu0Iq0ZY7UzjViFMZk4Da5aHFV5pylZsbqqJGDqsVnp0pkUs-627nJaIO0rKX9YGMQ6p9jPdTIpM4mYB621Kr_yK1vaiqlNk5TkgXfI-zPAxG6oz7_WdHDU7iF9JC3skPoC-JM/s1600/emma+watson.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma Watson<br />
I'm still out on this. <br />
I don't HATE it, she is young and she can take chances.<br />
I just don't know.<br />
Look, on the carpet... <br />
It's pant's! <br />
Its a dress! <br />
Da' faq?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3DSgq_Lw6RHiNGJNWv23xLCf0wL5FTP6Vb9lPUBCyLMi3nduo6hU-BSUSXhpEF3ItyovgRxZ_mI9M6NOv5p4dknLkGTC_O6v6lWoP76B6-fQ62aZ1uj4-fRdyX444KffdATyROn9TPqR/s1600/hayden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3DSgq_Lw6RHiNGJNWv23xLCf0wL5FTP6Vb9lPUBCyLMi3nduo6hU-BSUSXhpEF3ItyovgRxZ_mI9M6NOv5p4dknLkGTC_O6v6lWoP76B6-fQ62aZ1uj4-fRdyX444KffdATyROn9TPqR/s1600/hayden.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did you see Hayden's Red Carpet interview?<br />
If I was short on time and couldn't do my hair and was wearing this ugly ass dress, <br />
Maybe I would have would have got drunk before the ceremony as well. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqfq10BPC3yhgzttJiXfNZktlXDi5BSB-OFPdIeUReJvH9VhMoDgPElaxcIrWNcvl8vGBhvbsJt9Ibr5Vup2kt4-neEycVWjzq2Ye8dcjnBI847dMWh_dZTIynn-PE1UXUh0A-iZh5pdW/s1600/jennifer+Lawrence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqfq10BPC3yhgzttJiXfNZktlXDi5BSB-OFPdIeUReJvH9VhMoDgPElaxcIrWNcvl8vGBhvbsJt9Ibr5Vup2kt4-neEycVWjzq2Ye8dcjnBI847dMWh_dZTIynn-PE1UXUh0A-iZh5pdW/s1600/jennifer+Lawrence.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is Jennifer Lawrence dating an electrician? <br />
It's the only way I can explain the black electric tape <br />
that is wrapped around her waist and crotch. <br />
OR IS IT......</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTasZaI4umDCD0q90vd2H4rKYhq2A_5b4IjZUg_1BR5FT5gj1zKrH_S95r8Pg9ZUvUPw3bqYhN20nomLQQPqJXyOXDB5Qy1T6GyOqjrtSRe0GwXwKl3fL6h16g_4hLK9E09Dg9LYzllrC/s1600/elle-jennifer-lawrence-golden-globes-dress-memes-little-mermaid-jennifer-lawrence-h-lgn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTasZaI4umDCD0q90vd2H4rKYhq2A_5b4IjZUg_1BR5FT5gj1zKrH_S95r8Pg9ZUvUPw3bqYhN20nomLQQPqJXyOXDB5Qy1T6GyOqjrtSRe0GwXwKl3fL6h16g_4hLK9E09Dg9LYzllrC/s1600/elle-jennifer-lawrence-golden-globes-dress-memes-little-mermaid-jennifer-lawrence-h-lgn.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katniss is the Little Mermaid? Mind blown.... </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9TxNV4orQbN32-nbne7sl5zH0I_ToMjC3pprksDZVY8H7H7NThdUiX0vZPjao_hXLDnwRcjBQnCBleWsjGrcNJDMBjVFLtx3Aiuyp319gVMMx5Gcu_jgHKZu7SZGqbrWarN6zyxURZkl/s1600/jesica+chastain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9TxNV4orQbN32-nbne7sl5zH0I_ToMjC3pprksDZVY8H7H7NThdUiX0vZPjao_hXLDnwRcjBQnCBleWsjGrcNJDMBjVFLtx3Aiuyp319gVMMx5Gcu_jgHKZu7SZGqbrWarN6zyxURZkl/s1600/jesica+chastain.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica Chastain<br />
I love that you can see her neck. It's super feminine. Very sexy. <br />
The diamonds accenting it... Absolutely<br />
The hair... the evening's trend of the hair pulled or slicked back...<br />
Not a fan... </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3pfAExRb-sQ6H10u5Cn2xOmFbM8m-5_Iaoi3OA6S60WUyixpF3_8Y_OocprymnlcLE3UzuZM0KmTz-1CCE-_z7Z2pXsCn7irRwq-6VdcTI5GBTwVQSSKSDQVUzjroZV9L4yK5EK18PR8/s1600/julia+roberts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu3pfAExRb-sQ6H10u5Cn2xOmFbM8m-5_Iaoi3OA6S60WUyixpF3_8Y_OocprymnlcLE3UzuZM0KmTz-1CCE-_z7Z2pXsCn7irRwq-6VdcTI5GBTwVQSSKSDQVUzjroZV9L4yK5EK18PR8/s1600/julia+roberts.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOVE the JC Penny Worthington Collection meets Chanel, Julia!!!! <br />
Tre' sheek!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTndK-eIyKSRwgoHNDVSdBZpP8abHZnmPwLhHyMMcPlTbSiq_zb8huYVRa3svxEwgUtKEqgVzowpECidzgjHuiX3RrVDbwUrZpeVZT9wrbmDcgOEVmXHZmbVjOu6InSigYOiTVAXYuPw3F/s1600/kerry+washington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTndK-eIyKSRwgoHNDVSdBZpP8abHZnmPwLhHyMMcPlTbSiq_zb8huYVRa3svxEwgUtKEqgVzowpECidzgjHuiX3RrVDbwUrZpeVZT9wrbmDcgOEVmXHZmbVjOu6InSigYOiTVAXYuPw3F/s1600/kerry+washington.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhh... Kerry Washington, another mother to be,<br />
appearing very elegant and beautiful.<br />
Stunning really. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPc4PCktfnOyuLPQaoZoRxAEGH0-Zh5Z6ipNnx56_gJec-xnESWQTSabnabc15HMaHdjmZ9x802CVUI8t1S5MDowG0aDx-fzEAkSUGxy0B4zgdOIC5vAN57OW9Uf2AVXifs1Gwqqt-Iqx/s1600/lena+dunham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPc4PCktfnOyuLPQaoZoRxAEGH0-Zh5Z6ipNnx56_gJec-xnESWQTSabnabc15HMaHdjmZ9x802CVUI8t1S5MDowG0aDx-fzEAkSUGxy0B4zgdOIC5vAN57OW9Uf2AVXifs1Gwqqt-Iqx/s1600/lena+dunham.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think a bit more curves on the top would have helped with proportion<br />
Yellow done wrong....sorry Lena Dunham. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eW8diOPY3RGqNHxy_-Yc1dypVL1Rx9vw6XxECmUpqZ84XtDAYP1hK80Z6j5YCKHiuxHvVbGL0Qg_7I2r5h7NGGfXJ2BF0f125LiPqsSeV8ALywfFYXMTvh53uI010MWyO2quGODU26MO/s1600/Melissa+rauch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eW8diOPY3RGqNHxy_-Yc1dypVL1Rx9vw6XxECmUpqZ84XtDAYP1hK80Z6j5YCKHiuxHvVbGL0Qg_7I2r5h7NGGfXJ2BF0f125LiPqsSeV8ALywfFYXMTvh53uI010MWyO2quGODU26MO/s1600/Melissa+rauch.jpg" height="320" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Melissa Rauch... <br />
Yellow done right.<br />
Beautiful</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Not sure what happened here.... Tom Ford? Reem Acra? Both these dresses look awfully similar... only one way to resolve this designer dilemma... Fashiondom.... two designers enter and someone leaves looking faaabulouuuuuss!!!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihn427uEMv08CYGKli_kUi6uOatF84xihekQ7YH6q3XrgRtQTNTynMxZ5V0gE1FsoLCKRAoyGf5X7BC4xfwgomP3vKSANhVamytSvG0CJ4TX8G73y7bElsdVn2UudkQ0xUg_rTB7xR-hrC/s1600/robin+wright.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihn427uEMv08CYGKli_kUi6uOatF84xihekQ7YH6q3XrgRtQTNTynMxZ5V0gE1FsoLCKRAoyGf5X7BC4xfwgomP3vKSANhVamytSvG0CJ4TX8G73y7bElsdVn2UudkQ0xUg_rTB7xR-hrC/s1600/robin+wright.jpg" height="308" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQ3BVOwzGHhQNsZI5Tj1hMDyku3CVQOhjGspntq09hyphenhyphen9cW1wqVB3F3HMX77HwoHmrg_bkeoMkD-NL2GfIDrWhoPQb9C0Djeg3pAfx5c4Auc5a7AWW9zv7zxLoK1e2hyphenhyphen6_P3LW_xkq55fq/s1600/Naomi+Watts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQ3BVOwzGHhQNsZI5Tj1hMDyku3CVQOhjGspntq09hyphenhyphen9cW1wqVB3F3HMX77HwoHmrg_bkeoMkD-NL2GfIDrWhoPQb9C0Djeg3pAfx5c4Auc5a7AWW9zv7zxLoK1e2hyphenhyphen6_P3LW_xkq55fq/s1600/Naomi+Watts.jpg" height="308" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJqzl_W1nLGV7L3fr40je-SkWfc4OgZwLfR0JYkczThZGNYtLCb8Bfau1GuNze_jKdf43EEiRBTkB64S5RJWkhHHS4kgcTZ-OUU8QPr1ptrv3KcSpsZXojU39nrKIYbB-uuClrXSPK3zx/s1600/paula+patton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJqzl_W1nLGV7L3fr40je-SkWfc4OgZwLfR0JYkczThZGNYtLCb8Bfau1GuNze_jKdf43EEiRBTkB64S5RJWkhHHS4kgcTZ-OUU8QPr1ptrv3KcSpsZXojU39nrKIYbB-uuClrXSPK3zx/s1600/paula+patton.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the "lady bit" dress... Some on Twitter took to remarking its similarity to labia... I think that's a bit mean.... however if in fact your lady bits have this type of curvature and only on one side... I'd recommend a plastics consult. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLBRve2rlBJqtsnZOaDQY2sTm-3NwA8hNjn9IZjCeai8K6qHsJzAUL801RGZA7ZE5Db_0jYxV9sV_5lEGpGah_3CmeW1B9kpQhzCNG6qZON7XofPSa1GB00Af-F3JRacayznIkhGj2yp4/s1600/taylor+swift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLBRve2rlBJqtsnZOaDQY2sTm-3NwA8hNjn9IZjCeai8K6qHsJzAUL801RGZA7ZE5Db_0jYxV9sV_5lEGpGah_3CmeW1B9kpQhzCNG6qZON7XofPSa1GB00Af-F3JRacayznIkhGj2yp4/s1600/taylor+swift.jpg" height="309" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As much as it PAINS me to say it... Taylor looked amazing. One of the best dressed of the evening. Maybe a bit much for the GGs, but she knocked it out of the park. Her make-up, her hair... <br />
We're still not getting back together, Taylor...<br />
Stop calling me!</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Drum roll please.....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The hands down the winner and best dressed Lady of the evening <br />
(in this Blogger's opinion)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Ms. Lupia Nyong</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkQ14wKW0h4BsR9K1UEOmWjAEKx2escm5gEV4z6wlSFWAvqfhn8BXMfRSkVhRFvfM8fOrrVRa2jMiliJIpv8xsYSPSfw4pF2_CzMTQxS38xFzoP_By9PLsIP9vcvY3Ye4EtIyu6WwJqs_/s1600/Lupito.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCkQ14wKW0h4BsR9K1UEOmWjAEKx2escm5gEV4z6wlSFWAvqfhn8BXMfRSkVhRFvfM8fOrrVRa2jMiliJIpv8xsYSPSfw4pF2_CzMTQxS38xFzoP_By9PLsIP9vcvY3Ye4EtIyu6WwJqs_/s1600/Lupito.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The color of the dress against her rich, dark skin is beautiful. <br />
The way the dress clings to her body, without being trashy looking.<br />
Truly radiant and beautiful. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3 align="left">
Thoughts? Feedback? Agree/Disagree? Write about, talk about it... and Twin, you can shut up about it, now :-) </h3>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-33540203153218229962013-05-09T16:45:00.003-04:002014-11-13T11:57:58.052-05:00She's having a baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwfMIQPRHD7rReOW2wEt86rGLoVY21Vrxf1PzcT_aD5W3jbMVjYY53WIZjk9BAs6d_UeIDRbjWmtr9XIJLcZv9HSDm8yUVUW-Z6sfuVJrgMkBNQQ8wQQfWwSqYK_AD4JHuGPxy1hjNiwR/s1600/maternity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXwfMIQPRHD7rReOW2wEt86rGLoVY21Vrxf1PzcT_aD5W3jbMVjYY53WIZjk9BAs6d_UeIDRbjWmtr9XIJLcZv9HSDm8yUVUW-Z6sfuVJrgMkBNQQ8wQQfWwSqYK_AD4JHuGPxy1hjNiwR/s320/maternity.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“For the love of God, will you settle the fuck down?” I
think to myself. “Why can’t you be a good fetus and just let me get a good
night’s sleep? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I give into your
cravings, I sing to you and play that fucking ridiculous, Baby Einstein music
for you; in the hopes that you won’t turn out like your ungrateful siblings.”</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I think to myself, it's your own fault... Dr. Mendez told you to make sure to use condoms, until the birth control pills have
a chance to get into my system. I should have kept the IUD instead. An
unexpected anniversary gift you are. You can thank your Daddy little one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“Downtown, no kids, a concert, and a fancy hotel room… c’mon
Danielle, it’ll be fun” he said. It was fun. The concert was awesome. Hanging
out with Tiffany and her new boyfriend after the concert was great too. It’s so
nice to be with friends, talking about non-kid related topics and not having to have to worry about the time
and getting home. The hotel room… fucking expensive but worth it. Sometimes you
just have to spend on yourselves. The huge, king size bed; the marble bath and
shower; and a beautiful view of the skyline. It was definitely romantic. Too bad
all the margaritas I drank turned me into Lindsay Lohan’s long lost sister and
I went all Girl’s Gone Wild. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously
your Daddy enjoyed the show I gave, because here we are now with you playing
soccer in my uterus. “Finally”, I say to myself a half hour later. David
Beckham has gone to sleep. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I’m never getting pregnant, again.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Now I can go to sleep too...hmmm, David Beckham. I wonder if
likes full term, pregnant gals. As many times that he’s knocked up that skinny
bitch Posh, I bet he does. Yeah, I bet he get on some of this. What the hell
am I thinking? I look like a bloated anaconda and I feel like road kill. I
just need sleep. Me, my happy thoughts and a few hours of uninterrupted
blissful sleep. Yay, I’ve even managed to get myself into a semi-comfortable
position. Wait… are you kidding me? I have to pee, now? C’mon, give a girl a
break. “Fine!” I scream in my head. “I’m going”. I sit up and look over at my
husband…. David NOT Beckham. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Comfortable much you asshole?”, I ask his
snoring carcass. He farts and giggles in his sleep as a response. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just kill me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously, I’m not going to get any sleep
tonight. Maybe I should smother him. I was wrong, it’s his fault, why I’m in this state. There are mitigating factors here, such as cruel and unusual punishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will a jury really convict a pregnant woman ,who
was being tortured by her husband with gross and toxic flatulence; and his refusal to turn
on the A/C in May? So what if I can see his breath when he is sleeping?
It’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fucking stifling up here. Oh… I’m
supposed to be peeing. I can’t wait until I have a normally functioning, non-
preggo brain again.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Okay, I’m getting up. I swear to god I can’t wait until this
thing is out of me…. Two more weeks. That’s it. God I hope this one is smaller
than the last two. I can’t push out another 9 lb kid again. I swear his ass
better let me sleep in tomorrow. It’s Sunday. Nobody better bother me.
Something else is tomorrow too. I can’t remember. All I know is this baby is
due in a week and a half. This kid can’t come quick enough. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m never getting
pregnant again. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I start walking to the bathroom… oh shit. Why are my panties
wet? Something is trickling down my leg. Fuck, my water is breaking .
No… I just want to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not ready
for contractions and pushing and fuck... my legs aren’t shaved and my hooch
hasn’t been trimmed in months. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“David!!! Get up!!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
yell, “My water just broke”!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No answer. I
flip the light switch on, grab the nearest object to me and throw it at him... <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What To Expect When You’re Expecting</i>…
Ironic, I bet he wasn’t expecting that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, where is my suitcase?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, he’s up. "Call my
parents and have them come over to be with the kids. I need to change before we
go” He sleepily nods and I set out to quickly change my clothes. Being huge
and pregnant however negates the physics of dressing quickly and I’m still putting on my shoes when my
parents arrive. I kiss them quickly and David herds me out the door to the car. “Relax”, I say “I haven’t even had my
first…. ARRRRHHHH” My first contraction comes hard and painfully.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“Slow down, you’re going to kill us”, I say and then turn to
David. “What the fuck is wrong with men?”, I ask. “You all need to be Mario
Andretti when you're driving us to the hospital and damn near kill us in
the process?" Oh shit, another contraction. Fuck that hurts “Well what are you
waiting for? DRIVE!!”</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m never getting pregnant again. </span></strong></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I’m sitting in a triage room of the emergency department. “Do
I look like I have a fucking insurance card? I’m sorry that I forgot my purse.
My priority was on getting my baby and me to the ahhhhhhh…”, another <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>contraction. “Just breathe, honey” says David.
Oh sweet Jesus. That breathing shit didn’t work with the first two and it won’t
this time either. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> "</span>Just get me a room and
a fucking epidural”</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“Will you stop touching every damn thing in the room … you’re
not a doctor!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say. “Wanna play doctor?”
he asks. “Yes asshole… at this minute I want to play doctor
with you. Please give me a chance to hold your balls in my hand” I reply and
glare at him. “I think I’m going to get something to drink. I’ll be back”, he
says. Tight jeans or not I vow to myself… his cock is never coming near my
vagina again. I’m tired of runny noses, wiping asses and fucking play dates. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I’m never getting pregnant again</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“What do you mean I can’t have an epidural? Are you out of
you mind?”, I scream at my nurse. “Where is Dr Mendez?” I ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He is en route ma’am, please try to settle
down. We are going to try and make you as comfortable as possible. Please
remember your breathing and Lamaze". Before I get the chance to tell my nurse
that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> new age </span>breathing won’t be necessary if she
gets me a fucking epidural, David walks back in smiling, with a coffee in hand.
I’m sooo regretting the earlier decision not to smother him when I had the chance. </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>“Guess
what?” he asks. “I saw your blogger friend Stacie leaving with her<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>husband and their new baby. Did you know she was pregnant?”
"No asshole, I don’t keep up with my friends", I think to myself. He continues,
“Yeah apparently she just gave birth a
few days ago… it was a baby boy”. I reply “Yes David, I know. Remember when I told YOU about it the other
day?” Oblivious to my snarkiness, he replies “Oh yeah, you’re right. You did. I’m sorry. Anyway, she told me to tell you good
luck and that she’ll text you in a couple of days. Their kid was big. I can’t
believe she was wearing jeans already. Can’t tell she just had a kid” As I
look around for something to stab him with, Dr Mendez steps in to the room. He reaches my
bed, smiles down on me and asks “How are we feeling today?” Uh... We? Do you have
a parasite trying to fight its way out of your vagina too? Being a woman… I lie.
I smile at him and say I’m okay, I’m just ready to get this baby into the
world. “Good” he says, “Let’s see where you’re at. Looks like you’re <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fully dilated here and I think it’s time.
Kelly, can you please get her ready for delivery” Kelly, huh? She looks
like a Kelly. With her dark hair and beautiful smile. Probably thinks she’s
Wonder Woman too… whatev.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I’m never getting pregnant again. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Fuck… Why won’t you come out? I’ve been pushing for two
hours. For the love of God, just give me the episiotomy. VBAC… why are
sticking a plunger up my hooch? One thing I asked for, just one: a small baby.
But Noooo... I’m two weeks early and this kid is still huge. “Here we go”, says Dr. Mendez. “One
last time, Danielle. I need you to bear down hard and push” I do and relief. I hear a baby’s
cry. “It’s a girl. Dad, would you like to do the honors?” asks Dr Mendez. I’m
exhausted and can’t keep my eyes open as Dr Mendez delivers the afterbirth. I keep
my eyes closed and I just want to sleep. I hear “Lil Miss Efficiency” Kelly,
scurrying about with my daughter. Oh shit, the baby book… did I pack it? I hear
my husband say “Can you add do some of the foot prints here too?” Finally, he
is doing something useful. Kelly asks me “Would you like to hold him now?”
and lays her in my arms. I gaze down at
my new daughter’s wrinkled and pink newborn face. I see her father’s lips and mouth
and my nose. I memorize the details of her face. She wrapped up tight and warm
and is content against my breasts. I can feel her warm breath on me as she
sleeps. I hear my husband say “She is beautiful, just like her mommy”. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>My eyes are growing heavy, when my husband leans over, kisses
my forehead and whispers softly, “Happy Mother’s Day”. In this moment, I’m lost
in love with my child. I remember this is a love I’ve felt with all my children.
This feeling of pure love between a child and mother… that no matter what pains
motherhood brings me. </strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong> </strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will be getting pregnant again...</span></strong></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></strong> </div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>To all my Mom fans out there… I hope you enjoyed D’s
motherhood story and it made you giggle at some points and smile knowingly at others.
All you Moms are amazing treasures. You give life and nurture it, rarely
getting all the credit and appreciation you deserve. </strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Please don’t ever doubt for a minute you
aren’t appreciated. We spouses and kids may not say it enough, but we do love
and appreciate you... everyday. </strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>We know our lives would not be complete without you.</strong></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>
</strong></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>From me, to all of you… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy Mother’s Day</strong></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <strong><em><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span></em></strong></span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-422041557605244022013-04-04T13:31:00.000-04:002013-11-15T11:04:57.335-05:00The Panty Debate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOX853zwlXQMwXa8WwHT_yoY5v8MvH1pwezuM_tqCB7mvFSHTpO8S8m0cBYmaNehqsP__outOFZhbZALtix-zHPGzQLkU2Bu6G7zscQEv62CjkeaZBhLMqySyxd4GMaEmAkfNTH69DiRP/s1600/aloha+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOX853zwlXQMwXa8WwHT_yoY5v8MvH1pwezuM_tqCB7mvFSHTpO8S8m0cBYmaNehqsP__outOFZhbZALtix-zHPGzQLkU2Bu6G7zscQEv62CjkeaZBhLMqySyxd4GMaEmAkfNTH69DiRP/s1600/aloha+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well Hello there!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Do you wear panties? Do you know someone who wears panties? I bet you do! There are all kinds you know... bikini, brief, thong, hipster, cheekster, boy-short and even grannies! <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYcM_fxQ3rk380NAKVjR1Yfi1jt1u5DBe1dfdSmRfE4mxzACcZ6_p2CQqhjrE5xRbMPEtjXXh_YAfcCAy_icSKBRGNTKMlHcav1nHgLi0NrTeNv5aBQ_TwRfEujwE3aLMGqPe21634UDs/s1600/bikini+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinYcM_fxQ3rk380NAKVjR1Yfi1jt1u5DBe1dfdSmRfE4mxzACcZ6_p2CQqhjrE5xRbMPEtjXXh_YAfcCAy_icSKBRGNTKMlHcav1nHgLi0NrTeNv5aBQ_TwRfEujwE3aLMGqPe21634UDs/s400/bikini+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#Ageappropriatefail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The issue at hand is Victoria's Secret "Bright Young Things" panty collection being marketed under <br />
the Pink Line. There are some panties in a bunch over the new line. Opponents (parents) taking offense that their tweens will flock to VS to spend money on the brightly colored undies, which are emblazoned with slogans such as "Wild Thing" or "Kiss Me" across the bottom. The VS company and it's Pink representatives say this is not the case. That the Pink line has always been targeted towards college aged young women. This collection is geared towards collegiate age spring breakers. I think that's true. HOWEVER, what I also think is more true, is that young girls want to emulate older girls. The issue with that? More than ever... younger girls (tweens) are looking to emulate and take after their older counterparts or sisters. Girls want to grow up to quickly... peers, TV & magazine ads, and social media telling them that dressing scantily is the fashionable thing to! (I'm not even going to tackle the "this is how you need to look when wearing them" angle and the self esteem issues it causes) In a nutshell... young girls and ladies are being sexualized way to early in the name of fashion. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrxChtvAb6m_QtOhcKYTvARincAoQFs4ZK7RwX0osSG0BavW7-nt5aGz2dCiI12qiou8-YV8YDiTj29-MP6ZWpjtqhg7YoDk2luwGNeetzIbhVRveN9Ok4IcVz2RnMJBX7O7KkdkJH8L_/s1600/vs+pink+surfs+up+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+10.00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrxChtvAb6m_QtOhcKYTvARincAoQFs4ZK7RwX0osSG0BavW7-nt5aGz2dCiI12qiou8-YV8YDiTj29-MP6ZWpjtqhg7YoDk2luwGNeetzIbhVRveN9Ok4IcVz2RnMJBX7O7KkdkJH8L_/s320/vs+pink+surfs+up+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+10.00.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only surf that better be up is the "Crimson" tide.<br />
In which case... these panties are wholly inappropriate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'd be a horrible father and I'd be lying if I said I'm not horrified at the thought of my daughter, in a few years, sporting the Pink line undies and having suggestive phrases emblazoned on the butt. <br />
<br />
With that being said... do I have the right to try and shut down VS or bad mouth them? No. They have the right to make money, if someone buys their product. Do we as parents have the right to worry? Of course we do, we're parents. THAT IS OUR JOB. We need to worry, we need to be responsible, we need to explain to our Tweens why certain clothing choices are not for them. That's the key. Be a parent. Parents should know what kind of knickers their daughters are wearing. It's our jobs to teach our daughters to respect themselves and their bodies. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
To teach them about responsible sex... to teach them they need to stay virgins until they are <strike>thirty</strike>, errr, I mean "ready"... If we do that, then I won't have to worry about anyone but her mother and I, seeing her panties. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aR7iAW-xM6bzhK0lgTx4qS234DeCGTOrmn6Pp8U9h2ZQTzayfn9gFSrLq9tx6y-OQNNB_S4NFF4CKdBUgdskfjv7ogNoAQkq9DaNZ7FzgXNyAaT6P9rVnH-hA6xYC-FonxLqJrx2SHc3/s1600/now+or+never+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aR7iAW-xM6bzhK0lgTx4qS234DeCGTOrmn6Pp8U9h2ZQTzayfn9gFSrLq9tx6y-OQNNB_S4NFF4CKdBUgdskfjv7ogNoAQkq9DaNZ7FzgXNyAaT6P9rVnH-hA6xYC-FonxLqJrx2SHc3/s1600/now+or+never+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.59.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's our job... so let's get it done<br />
say NO to retailers who<br />
would sexualize your Tween daughter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><em>Munch</em></span></strong><br />
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<br />Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-23817304303313942872013-03-04T14:40:00.002-05:002013-11-15T10:54:06.659-05:00In the end...<span id="ctl00_ctl00_ContentPlaceHolder1_ContentPlaceHolder1_ObitText" style="font-size: 14px;"><em><strong>MUNDSCHENK Kurtis J. Mundschenk, 60, of North Fort Myers, Fla. and formerly of Gahanna, Friday, March 4, 2005 at Cape Coral Hospital. Served as a member of the law enforcement community and the Corporate Security Industry for over 30 years. Member of the American Society for Industrial Security, International Foundation of Protection Officers, Security Management Information Network of Ohio, Founding President; Wyoming Law Enforcement Firearms Instructors Association, International Association of Law Enforcement Firearms Instructors, Ohio Identification Officers Association and a Life Member of the International Association for Identification. Member of the Gulf Shore Mustang Club and former member of the Ohio Mustang Club. Survived by wife, Denise and brother, Jim (Margo) Muth; two daughters, Krista (Shane) Pearson and Kamie (Tom) Guzy; one son, David (Jessica) Mundschenk, and a step-daughter, Terra (Danny) Ernsberger; grandchildren, Drew, Luke, Alex, Kaitlyn, Zack, Derrick, and Sydney; Friends may call Tuesday 6-8 p.m. EVANS FUNERAL HOME, 4171 E. Livingston Ave., where service will be held Wednesday 11 a.m., Pastor Paul Gateman officiating. Interment will be at Highland Cemetery, Glenford, Oh. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made in Kurt's name to the American Heart Association or the Cape Coral Auxiliary, 625 Del Prado Blvd., Cape Coral, Fla. 33990.</strong></em> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14px;">Obituaries... a final essay if you will. A short paragraph that grieving survivors piece together to notify others of their loss. A short paragraph in which we try to convey to others who the deceased was. An essay which rarely does justice or explains who the person really was or why they were special. As you can see from the obit above, my Dad passed away seven years ago today. All the obit shows however, is a few of the places he lived, some of his accomplishments and who he was survived by. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14px;">As I stated above.... it didn't really do him justice. It doesn't show who he was or how he lived. </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">He was born to Elmer John J "Al" Mundschenk and Gertrude Elizabeth (Trudy) Mundschenk (Heery) My grandfather was a successful and to be honest, a pretty damn bright engineer. He worked for North American Aviation and was involved with the Mercury spacecraft program and the X-15 jet to name a few. As was custom back in those days, Grandma Honey was a stay at home Mom, although I believe she had been a hand model at one time. (Cool, no?) Although my grandfather had a relatively, as far as I know, happy childhood... my grandmother did not. She had a hard life growing up, which translated into undiagnosed mental health issues going into her adulthood. Her tool of choice when it came to discipline for my Dad, was a cat of nine tails. A stick with a knotted leather strands. No fucking lie. I actually have the damn thing laying around here somewhere. It was used mainly once he was to big for her to handle... like when he was ten. I'm not judging her. I can't imagine the number of women, or men for that matter, who had to live with mental health issues prior to the invention of drugs like Prozac, Paxil or Zoloft to name a few. He did get his revenge. When he was sixteen and she was trying to unsuccessfully hit him for some breach of conduct, (boys will be boys) he took the damn thing from her and tied all the strands into an combobulated mess of leather and knots. Later on in life they would make light of it and joke about it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Still, the fact that my Dad actually grew up to be happy and pretty adjusted is a miracle. He grew up and went on to study religion, at his parents' urging, at Capital University, which back in the day was pretty well known for it's education of Lutheran ministers. Dad ended up failing or leaving with a D average. I don't believe it was due to a lack of faith, he would later become heavily involved in our Church when we were growing up and he was always a man of faith.... I think rather it's because he found someone he cared for, fell in love with and his grades suffered. Also, I think he subconsciously knew it wasn't his true calling. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Although he left the university, he was there long enough to meet one of his lifelong friends and us childrens' Godfather: Paul, who continued on and became a Lutheran minister. They were birds of a feather and enjoyed the college life. Amongst their experiences at college, was a White Castle eating competition, which is the stuff of legend. I think they both made into well into the forties, before Dad got sick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14px;">Being lifelong friends... Paul ultimately delivered my Dad's eulogy... Something he had previously retired from doing. He didn't tell me until after the fact. True friends are like that and I'm glad to know Dad had someone like that. I cannot express my gratitude to Paul, on behalf of our family, for doing so. The funniest part of the eulogy... Paul making reference to my Dad's well known habit of sleeping in the buff. I don't know when this started, but apparently... it was as early as college. Paul related a story of an early morning, when he, Dad and their roommate were still sleeping and received an early morning visitor. Dad having the bed closest to the door answered... naked. As Paul recounted, Dad opened the door, had a few words with the visitor, slammed the door and advised his other roommate that the roommate's Mom was there to see him. </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">The things we discover about our parents and their youth. How they are unlike the people we know growing up. I laughed about that memory for weeks after the funeral. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Dad was a joker and a prankster. He loved to tell a good joke and to get people on a prank. He was good at it too. His sense of timing and delivery was impeccable. Making people laugh and smile was one of his joys. I think that's where I get it. Although I'm far more out there than he ever was... the end result is the same. Make people laugh. Make them feel good. We all need more laughter, joy and friendship in our lives. Thank you Dad, for making sure that was the one lesson I learned above all else. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">In the interests of full disclosure... I have to be honest. Dad was no Saint. He had a temper. He was a yeller, much like me. He didn't hit and he rarely drank. One or two at most. I never saw him drunk. He hated to lose control of himself, as he was very much a "controller" of all things. Not in a domineering way, but in a way so that there was no situation that he couldn't control or step in if necessary, to protect us or from making mistakes. While that's not horrible, kids and spouses have to learn and grow from the mistakes they make. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">There have been many things I've learned abut my Dad in the years since his death. Some funny, some good, and some bad. What's most important is that I've been fortunate to understand him in a different light. A light that still gives me wonderment and makes me believe he was the superhero from my youth. He was flawed certainly, but we all are. We each have dreams, fears and hopes. Mostly his dreams and hopes were that his kids would be happy and successful and that we would always love him. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Dear Dad... In this, as you did many things, you overachieved. WE MISS YOU AND LOVE YOU EVERYDAY. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Munch </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Cool Ass Big Sis</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My Twin</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The Girl Who Be Mom</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and the Grandbabies </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">Post Script:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">An interesting item to note, to me anyway, is that my half brother Sean and and my half sister Lissa's Mom, Kathy, passed away on the same day as my Dad. I had not yet met either of them or ever spoken with them when we experienced our loss. I knew nothing of their lives. </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">I also had not met or spoken with my biological father, Pat; whom I knew of, but had not ever been in contact with. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14px;">It was 2 years before that would happen. Truth be told, that was due to my grandmother, Sue, on my biological father's side. She found my mother and myself (Goggle! A stalker's tool!) after seeing my Dad's obituary. While that's a story for a different day... it's hard to dismiss that as a cowinkiedink or if I would know any of these amazing people now, had it not been for our losses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14px;"><strong><u><em>To everything there is a purpose</em></u></strong> </span></div>
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-36038284181413481902013-02-20T13:50:00.000-05:002013-11-15T08:54:34.420-05:00Notes from an Abuser<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5w69f_yj8cg6IqPzOIsaE-WRL6QXGfZax0v0LCTNoxkT1grpHo3Z_BDpuAYkqsynMRwIF6KJuaXkTPmJ_dXvMXAl9Ln4H8x5y6pwPSge_99-9Rgnp1lX8LU2BcZxc1-eozyxvEWP7CEL/s1600/bourbon+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5w69f_yj8cg6IqPzOIsaE-WRL6QXGfZax0v0LCTNoxkT1grpHo3Z_BDpuAYkqsynMRwIF6KJuaXkTPmJ_dXvMXAl9Ln4H8x5y6pwPSge_99-9Rgnp1lX8LU2BcZxc1-eozyxvEWP7CEL/s320/bourbon+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.58.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bourbon - I once drank almost an entire bottle in 6 hours.<br />
Not cool or good for you.</td></tr>
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Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism.... topics I'm familiar with, but have remained tight lipped about. Until now and I don't know why I feeling the need to share, but I am. I know I usually "wow" you with funny stuff and couture opinions, but today I'm going deeper... much deeper. Bear with me or move on to something more "light". It's okay and I understand. Some days I want nothing but funny, as there is way to much Negative Nelly in the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihU38Jwff3pWH-hAcT96njIRA0gZbVZ5oou6ZC5Jx3BhI-T4sxVrpaS-tkF_12hr0sV7WH8cQuK9z9mi5HycR_g3KqE0t8dKP8c5NKxOivp1H5v8tqEzPsIHMi3sLWg_f-NvUwwMB18-Au/s1600/nellie-olsen+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihU38Jwff3pWH-hAcT96njIRA0gZbVZ5oou6ZC5Jx3BhI-T4sxVrpaS-tkF_12hr0sV7WH8cQuK9z9mi5HycR_g3KqE0t8dKP8c5NKxOivp1H5v8tqEzPsIHMi3sLWg_f-NvUwwMB18-Au/s320/nellie-olsen+%2528Restored%2529+04-15-2013+09.59.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not negative, but awfully uppity for someone growing up on the Prairie</td></tr>
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I think it may have been prompted by an upcoming, proposed change in the DSM-V release. It includes merging alcohol abuse and alcohol dependence into a single new entry labeled "alcohol-use disorder". It struck a nerve with me. Not a bad nerve, but not a real good nerve either. It took me back to a dingy and poorly lit office... 18 years ago. Back to when I was 21 / 22 yrs of age and still in the USMC. I had just been diagnosed per the DSM-IV as an "alcohol abuser". The criteria listed in said manual is: <br />
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Alcohol Abuse:<br />
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A. maladaptive pattern of alcohol use leading to clinically significant impairment or distress, as manifested by one (or more) of the following, occurring within a 12-month period: <br />
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(1) recurrent alcohol use resulting in a failure to fulfill major role obligations at work, school, or home (e.g., repeated absences or poor work performance related to alcohol use; alcohol-related absences, suspensions, or expulsions from school; neglect of children or household) <strong><span style="color: red;">Nailed this one consistently. I was always late... despite that I was usually running to work. In fact, I passed a company formation PT run one morning. Can't imagine what the C.O. of the company thought.<br /></span></strong>(2) recurrent alcohol use in situations in which it is physically hazardous (e.g., driving an automobile or operating a machine when impaired by alcohol use) <strong><span style="color: red;">I can honestly say that I wasn't guilty of this, as I didn't have a car. That was not alcohol related... just poor financial decisions made on my part, due to a huge ignorance of personal finance and credit matters.</span></strong><br />
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(3) recurrent alcohol-related legal problems (e.g., arrests for alcohol-related disorderly conduct) <span style="color: red;"><strong>I didn't get arrested by the Po-Po, but I had gotten into trouble for my tardiness once to often. The official charge was AWOL. Absent without Leave. I was 5 minutes late to work, but multiply that by 60 and you will be made an example of. I went before the company commander and received non-judicial punishment. (NJP) The punishment accorded to me?<br /></strong></span><span style="color: red;"><strong><u></u></strong></span> <span style="color: red;"><strong><u>45 days Restriction</u> - The Marine Corps version of "grounding". You have to stay in your room unless you're working or eating. It didn't work, but that's another story.</strong></span><strong><span style="color: red;"><u></u></span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: red;"><u>45 days EPD</u> - Cleaning transient rooms in the barracks and such.</span></strong><strong><span style="color: red;"><u></u></span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: red;"><u>2 months forfeiture of half my pay</u> - My pay wasn't that much AND I still had a free roof over my head with three squares a day.</span></strong><strong><span style="color: red;"><u></u></span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: red;"><u>Mandatory Alcoholism Consult</u> - Interview With the Vampire. Just kidding. It was an interview with a Staff Sergeant who was hungover. The result of that interview being diagnosed as an alcohol abuser and a two week treatment outpatient program. </span></strong><br />
(4) continued alcohol use despite having persistent or recurrent social or interpersonal problems caused or exacerbated by the effects of the alcohol (e.g., arguments with spouse about consequences of Intoxication, physical fights) <strong><span style="color: red;">Certainly re-current due to re-occurring problems with supervisors and the Staff Judge Advocate.</span></strong> <br />
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B. The symptoms have never met the criteria for Alcohol Dependence - <strong><span style="color: red;">I won't bore you with a response to each of those bullet points, but I did not meet the criteria.</span></strong><br />
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In all honesty, alcoholism and alcohol abuse was the norm in the Marine Corps. Much like the other service branches... it's a club of mostly young people, with stressful jobs who need an outlet. Often times, it is found in alcohol. (I.e. Work hard, play hard) At the time I was in, the <em>accepted</em> mindset was largely: Drinking hard is upholding tradition. In hindsight, it's easy to see how damaging it was... the failure to educate young Marines, men and women alike, about the dangers of alcoholism and abuse. <br />
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Especially a Marine like me, who was/is genetically predisposed to alcoholism and started drinking at age 14.... I'm now 39, a month removed from 40. That's 25+ years of not just drinking, but often times abusing. Fortunately, in the 18 years that have passed since being diagnosed, my drinking pattern has changed. It's no longer a case of the "Get drunk or go home" mentality that I subscribed to in the Marine Corps. Now... it's more along the lines of "Do I want a beer? I do, so I'm going to drink a beer" I don't drink everyday and I go days in between. I don't have to drink, but I just like to do so. It's that simple. Sometimes I over drink though and that is what scares me. I'm with friends or in a drinking setting and all of a sudden, I turn into Kesha. I'm like "No, the party don't start until I walk in"<br />
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It's troubling because more often than not, my kids see it. What message am I sending, in addition to the alcohol ads that proliferate the <strike>television airwaves</strike> coaxial cable/satellite signals, to my children. Drinking is what adults do? It's cool? <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have never encountered this situation<br />
when drinking a Bud Light</td></tr>
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The answer is a resounding: NO. Dad is an alcohol abuser at times and this is exactly what you have to avoid; experimenting with and drinking young... because of our genetics.<br />
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Use of alcohol is okay. WHEN YOU"RE OF LEGAL AGE and in moderation. You don't have to kill a 6 pack or 12 pack because it's in the fridge and you can get more. Be smart. Have a plan when you drink and never get behind the wheel, ever. Pick up the phone and call a sober driver. <br />
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These are the things I am vowing to tell my children. To make sure they understand. Cycles have endings and my family's cycle needs to end now.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Munch</span><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<br />Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-91235548948475736092013-01-16T15:31:00.002-05:002013-01-16T15:31:46.468-05:00The Gun Control DebateMunch here... going on record about Gun "control"<br />
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Stop comparing this argument to Hitler's takeaway of guns or that Obama specifically, is trying to takeaway guns. That's not going to happen. The President does not have that power. Do people even read the constitution anymore or know what it takes to repeal an ammendment? <br />
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Stop blaming "assault" rifles as the problem. Is there a "polite" rifle, dumbass?<br />
a) a bullet from a .22 will kill you just as dead, as a bullet from a .308. <br />
b) a .22 rifle is just as semi-automatic, as an A/R-15... that means as quickly as someone pulls the trigger, a bullet is sent downrange. An A/R-15 may look more badass, but it is no more deadly than a .22 in the hands of a marksman. <br />
c) If a weapon is used in a tragic event and the perp is spraying down victims with a fully automatic weapon... that weapon was illegally obtained or was stolen from a citizen who was licensed to own said fully automatic weapon. The licensing process for obtaining a fully automatic weapon is heavily regulated. <em><strong>"You have to get what's called a "Form 4" from a class III gun dealer, fill it out, send a check for $200 to the Treasury Dept. and successfully pass a <span class="yshortcuts cs4-visible" id="lw_1358363211_1">background investigation</span>. Over and above that, on your form 4, is a space that has to be signed by the "chief law enforcement official" in your county. Without that signature, the form is not accepted. The Treasury Dept. will cash your check for $200 and keep the money whether you are approved or not. When the form is accepted and approved, and you pass your background investigation, the <span class="yshortcuts cs4-visible" id="lw_1358363211_2">BATF</span> will send it back to you, advising you that you can go purchase your weapon. You are then subject to inspection by the BATF at any point after that. You may not sell or give the weapon away without the prospective buyer going through the same process as you went through"</strong></em> <<< borrowed/plagerized. <br />
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So if someone goes to the trouble of obtaing an illegal weapon Do you think they give two fucks about what the "law" says they may own? <<< Not borrrowed<br />
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Look... I know that the framers of the constitution did not envision the weapons of today. The intent of the 2nd Ammendment was to establish a well armed militia, WHO HAD FUCKING MUSKETS, and to not infringe upon the rights of the peoples / citizens to be armed and defend themselves and their property. For some people who own farms and ranches, this is still a very real and needed right.<br />
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This idea that people have, that Congress needs to pass legislation for "CONTROL" of guns. Why? Do the responsible citizens, who live their life following laws, need MORE regulation? My problem with gun "control" is that the control ONLY effects those who are already responsible and following the existing laws. <br />
<br />
So... What we do need? How about we start by utilizing some common sense? More people concerned about each other? People that look out for their neighbors and their neighbors' kids? We need to get our heads up, put our cell phones down and look the FUCK around... FUCKING be observant. Be vigilent. If something feels or looks shady... IT PROBABLY IS. Call the police. Call the school. Tell them you see, what you perceive to be a threat and then let them make the call if it's a threat. They are trained to do so. Don't hope for the best or dismiss your gut feelings. Better to be safe and embarrassed than sorry. <br />
<br />
You're an adult, trying to gain access to a school? Why? Do you have a child there? No, good... go fuck yourself. You're picking someone up or waiting? Great, please wait in the parking lot, where you will be monitored on video and if we think you're shady, the police will be called to investigate.<br />
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Parents... please educate your children on guns and gun safety!!! What guns are, what they are capable of, to respect them as being deadly if not handled correctly. That the killing they see on video games is not real life. It isn't glamorous. Bullets make big messes. The consequences are forever, never to be taken back. <br />
<br />
Kids. My opinion is this. Criminals very RARELY shoot children. It's not their MO. Regardless of that, criminals dont give two fucks about gun control. They're still gonna have guns. <br />
<br />
So who is doing this killing? What I am seeing is this... teens or kids barely into their 20s, committing these horrific acts. Why is that happening? I still think we're dealing with a lot of mental health issues. Kids that were abused or bullied. Think a kid is being abused? FUCKING call someone. See a kid being bullied? Throttle the little, punk ass bully, call his parents and hope his Dad whoops his ass again! Next, sit down with the victim. Make sure he is okay. Talk to him, smile, re-assure him that adolesence / puberty is the absolute shitiest time of his life, but in the end... it will work out with a little bit courage and the willingness to talk to someone when needed. <br />
<br />
Still worried about the kid? Talk to his parents! Scared of their reaction? Talk to the school! They will keep you annoymous. Some of these tragedies could be prevented. All we have to do is take care of and look out for one another. Love one another. Do unto others. These steps aren't hard to take for cryin out loud and we could save lives in the process. <br />
<br />
Stop making this a political issue, because it isn't.<br />
<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><strong>MUNCH</strong></span> <br />
Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-69201022319042815862012-10-04T15:16:00.000-04:002013-11-15T13:12:55.491-05:00I am WOMAN! <br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I am not actively involved with Blogger Idol, as I’m too lazy to check out how the whole process works, there was an assignment in Week 2… "a
day in the life of me, but from the perspective of the opposite gender" Interesting… I mean maybe not a day of <u>my</u> life
per se… but just to write a blog, about a day, from the perspective of the
opposite gender. I mean... write the female version of me. This has got to be awesome. I apologize for the length in advance, but it was unavoidable. Apparently, I'm one of those "chatty" girls. As always... feedback is key. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A day in the life of Danielle..</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5AmXQUCL7k406adGDCBgYl_PH13ajJ0mjUwOUOntvfe0m5iTVtyWrLbZsXNENHMq93jyWGPcFBp4yaqvv05RYoYtXGm1X8WladRTVOAepj6Lbxl8ZKOa3NvT6wE6_9UjpN0Da3E6OJXY/s1600/matt_bomer_shirtless_edit_by_pinklemondesigns-d3akrmt+(Restored)+07-10-2013+15.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5AmXQUCL7k406adGDCBgYl_PH13ajJ0mjUwOUOntvfe0m5iTVtyWrLbZsXNENHMq93jyWGPcFBp4yaqvv05RYoYtXGm1X8WladRTVOAepj6Lbxl8ZKOa3NvT6wE6_9UjpN0Da3E6OJXY/s200/matt_bomer_shirtless_edit_by_pinklemondesigns-d3akrmt+(Restored)+07-10-2013+15.12.jpg" width="183" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yYSwuJpgvlk/UG3Eu4F7gVI/AAAAAAAAAeM/3M9II3FvVxQ/s1600/mb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6:45am- A weight shifts on my husband and I’s bed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My eyes slowly open. In the bright sunshine of
our naturally lit and spacious bedroom, I see my husband sitting next to me on
the bed. He has a smile in his eye and bends down to kiss me softly on the lips.
A cup of my favorite morning blend coffee is in one hand. With his free hand,
he tucks a strand of stray hair behind my ear. He says “Good Morning Beautiful,
time to get up.” He sets my coffee down on my nightstand and gives my pert
bottom a playful smack. As he gets up, he smiles at me mischievously,
(reminding me of last night’s amazing activities) and then walks out the door,
towards our children’s rooms. He has already dressed for work. I can smell his sandalwood
scented aftershave, as it wafts across the room. He is so gorgeous. Still the
man I feel in love with. He works out every morning, rarely drinks and his body
is still as lean and hard as it was, when we first started dating. I smile to
myself, as I swing my legs out of bed onto the floor. I reach for my peignoir robe
and satin mules. I go into our large, marble master bath and complete my
morning toilet. I wash my face, brush my hair and then my teeth. I step on the
scale lastly and see the same number that has greeted me every morning, other
than when I was pregnant. Some things should never change and I’m proud that my
weight is still that, from when I was in college. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7:15am- I go down the stairs and walk into our designer
kitchen. I see my husband and my beautiful children at the table, eating their breakfast;
which my husband prepared for them. He is such a fantastic cook. I say “Good
Morning” to my children and kiss their cheeks. I think to myself how lucky I am,
that my boys don’t turn or fuss when I kiss them. They go back to their
discussion on who’s the better Superhero. "Duh", I think to myself, it’s Ironman; but I let them go
on about Superman and Batman. I place a well manicured
hand on my husband’s shoulder. When he looks up at me, I quickly plant a brief,
but memorable kiss on his lips and graze my finger along his ear lobe.
Something I know drives him crazy, but in our current situation… he is helpless
to do anything about. I whisper into his ear “Payback for that smack, maybe later
Mister”. He smiles and says “Count on it”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjup-P5vpYTWv0OTKnbJENt95nwudAzQIA89Z7OD57IEdD8niHGLpDeDnMjRvm6ZW0FsNjUK-9OEoVtISyqwGa5Hh9UeRzoRzF9UT6mHAq3WG4Ld2X4tDLdoZL5uJHfP-qGDxbMdxdYGv9O/s1600/chiq+%2528Restored%2529+07-12-2013+14.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjup-P5vpYTWv0OTKnbJENt95nwudAzQIA89Z7OD57IEdD8niHGLpDeDnMjRvm6ZW0FsNjUK-9OEoVtISyqwGa5Hh9UeRzoRzF9UT6mHAq3WG4Ld2X4tDLdoZL5uJHfP-qGDxbMdxdYGv9O/s320/chiq+%2528Restored%2529+07-12-2013+14.19.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Springtime Chic!!!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">8:00am- I’m in my master closet deciding what to wear. My
husband and the boys</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> left for work and school a few minutes ago. I’m meeting with
some Blogging Mommies today and we’re meeting at Easton for lunch. Not to
dressy I think to myself, I don’t want to shove our wealth in anyone’s face.
Hopefully our lunch goes quickly and I can do some shopping later. Let’s see, “what
to wear or what not to wear”, I ask myself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not too Nordstrom’s and certainly not too Old
Navy” With that I choose <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxhxX-ZlN-HJ6nMI8tXD9JAPHTpqgUK9B37WOcmKxmgPBSS4mfekV-dhKHiZgjPQLmtXtptu_a2E_3ujVop8NnNb1rTFtOxY2W1JpiCuJUeKhdoCXMzSo1FzDv9Kxh7R4vEg9rI7BC4lM/s1600/marshalls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxhxX-ZlN-HJ6nMI8tXD9JAPHTpqgUK9B37WOcmKxmgPBSS4mfekV-dhKHiZgjPQLmtXtptu_a2E_3ujVop8NnNb1rTFtOxY2W1JpiCuJUeKhdoCXMzSo1FzDv9Kxh7R4vEg9rI7BC4lM/s320/marshalls.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1:00pm- Lunch at California Pizza Kitchen. I choose a light
Chicken Caesar Salad and a glass of White Zin. Soon enough, we’ve gotten caught
up and we chose which Blog Her convention that we’ll all be attending. Yay!!! I
can’t wait. We’re going to Chicago! I love the downtown Macy’s. It’ll always be
Marshall Field’s to me… but things change. I’m just happy the landmark is still
there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:00pm- I’ve just finished my Blog post for the day and
regaled my followers with tales of today’s trip to Easton. I’m sure I’ll have
to go on later and reply to comments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5:30pm I’m in the process of finishing up dinner. It’s a new
Pinterest recipe! Yay!!! I Can't Wait! It looks and smells FANTASTIC!<o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9:00pm The boys are in bed. I’m laying on our large
oversize, sectional couch and reading a book. I'm enjoying some wine and my new book, "Gone Girl". I can’t believe the nerve of this guy Nick! I just know that he
killed his wife. "What a jerk!" I think to myself.. "Poor Amy" I look to my own husband. No... my guy could never be like Nick. He is watching some football game. Fortunately though,
it’s mostly background noise, as he is giving me the most amazing foot massage. His hands feel
so good and now I’m starting to lose interest in the book, in favor of his touch. After about 10 minutes, he moves up and
straddles me and begins to rub my back. I just love he is so in tune with the
little things I enjoy. Foot massages and back rubs... I love the way he always just spontaneously does it with no prompting. :-) Oh GAWD… his hands feel so good. I mean REALLY good.
Time to pay the Piper I think to myself, as I did say "Maybe later Mister" earlier today. I turn over and
smile sweetly at him. I then reach up around his neck and fiercely pull him to me, kissing him hungrily on
the mouth. The backs of his hands softly graze my breasts and.... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">DEH DEH DEH DEH DEH DEH </span><o:p></o:p></td></tr>
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</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OH Shit…. 6:45am? That bastard hit the damn Snooz button on the
alarm. Fuck! We’re all late. I fight and untangle myself from the sheets, which
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve managed to wrap myself up like King
Tut’s mummy in. Quickly I kick at my husband’s back and yell at him to get his ass
out bed. Shit, shit, shit … I hate being late!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NYo4mj8YVnU/UG3ORyJ7PNI/AAAAAAAAAe0/tQ4EY_TmKtw/s1600/lego.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I run into my son’s room blinding him into awareness and in the process
stepping on several fucking Lego’s, which my son can’t be bothered to put the
hell away. Note to self.. throw all this shit away while he is at school. Fortunately,
my somewhat loud and wholly unintentional “FUCK” as I stepped on the damn Lego’s,
has awoken him and he is now scurrying to get ready… bonus. Maybe today won’t
suck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello... I'm Marty and I'm here to scare the<br />
beejeebus out of you. Our specials today include...</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My teenage daughter is fortunately already up and getting
ready… bonus… wait no.. I have to use the downstairs restroom and I REALLY have
to pee. Shit. I run down the stairs and make it to toilet in time. (barely, why
the fuck do the drawstrings on women’s pajama pants get so fucking tight?) Ahhh...
Much better, thank you. I reach out for toilet paper… OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!
There is a fucking spider on the damn toilet roll! Oh shit, oh shit, oh
shit… don’t scream I think to myself, as I’m sitting here helpless with my pajamas
and panties around my ankles and nothing to blast this mother fucker to
kingdom come with. Damn teenagers… it’s her fault. Why did she use our bathroom to get ready I wonder. "Okay, think Danielle, you can do
this." I grab a spare roll from under the counter, finish my business and pull
everything into place. The spider hasn’t fucking moved… I think maybe it’s dead?
Smart mom then chimes in and says “Don’t fool yourself girl, that motherfucker
wants to eat you! Kill it! Summon your Xena: Warrior Princess and smite that
sucker into oblivion!” Yeah.. I think to myself, I can do this. BULLSHIT!!! This
is my husband’s job and one of the few things he is good for. He deserves to
deal with this, especially after hitting the snooze… and after the not so
amazing night he thought it was. I quickly grab a glance in the mirror, smile
smugly to myself and let loose like a little girl. I scream… loudly. My husband
comes huffing and puffing, from the one flight excursion of stairs looks at me
and yells “What the hell is wrong?” I point at the spider and say “KILL IT”. He
smiles at me and laughs… he says “Really? Oh my God, Danielle, it’s
JUST a spider!” “It is not, JUST a spider." I say "It’s a disgusting
hairy thing that has eight fucking legs and probably has 50,000 baby eggs inside
of it, waiting to hatch all over me if I touch it. I will NOT KILL it! YOU do
it!!”. He smiles at me, looking at me
tolerantly (I swear at this moment I want to stab him… after sex maybe, like a Preying
Mantis) He looks at me, grabs the spare tissue tissue roll, tears off a few
sheets and uses it to squish the spider. I look at him and say “Thank you, now I’m not going to die”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7:15am- I'm standing in the kitchen, while my son is eating. I've just tasted the first sweet drop of caffeine nectar in my coffee. In that moment, I know I will not die today. I throw a Lunchable into my son's Transformer lunch box. “I don’t want
anything to eat for breakfast. I'm dieting", states my daughter. Fuck, I don't have time for her drama this morning and I'm still kinda pissed at her for the whole bathroom/spider thing. "Fine", handing her five dollars," just get breakfast at school" At least I know she'll get something there... she always does. Unfortunately I'm out $5 bucks for my smokes... A bad, nasty habit I enjoy because it keeps me sane. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">8:00am- Thank God the husband and kids are gone... I can breathe. Think, what needs to be done today? Bathrooms? Meh.. Laundry? Eh... yeah I can get another day out of this bra. New Blog Post? So much pressure.. Facebook? oh who am I kidding. Let's do this thing! Coffee? check! Clean sweats? check! Logging into my page as the: puttogetherbloggingmother.blogspot.com? Check! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No traffic... "Shit' I say to myself. I call my only real blogging friend Stacie and ask her to please give me some "love" and promote my page on hers... I finish the call and tell her "Thank you sooo much! I owe you" I hate that Stacie is so cool and I'm not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1:00pm- Lunch... I'm not hungry. I'm thirsty. I want something sweet. Hmmm,, wine is sweet. Shit, I just drank half a bottle of wine. Oh well, might as well kill it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:00pm- I've finished my blog post. I'm starting the screen and hitting the F5 refresh key every minute. No comments. "I suck at this!" I scream out loud and look down to see our dog nodding his concurrence. I starting to cry. I hate being unpopular... Then I realize, Wait, that can't be it, because I'm awesome. "I bet Stacie forgot to promote me. That's it. I'm sure of it" I say to myself. Where did that new glass of wine come from? Oh well, waste not, want not.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6HVODJLlezBrxzXJeXtjgQnK27ZTXbhPHGGIL1XabyEyla-PAbaYVWIrqfTSW2W0iIcL1VybaAc1-2iKsuV0AzO8GhyphenhyphenbbfcZo88_QQtrGi4BEGj9z_amUycLccOdEI_FpvfnOU1i8fBR/s1600/spaghetti-garlic-bread-pinterest-craftfail-400x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6HVODJLlezBrxzXJeXtjgQnK27ZTXbhPHGGIL1XabyEyla-PAbaYVWIrqfTSW2W0iIcL1VybaAc1-2iKsuV0AzO8GhyphenhyphenbbfcZo88_QQtrGi4BEGj9z_amUycLccOdEI_FpvfnOU1i8fBR/s320/spaghetti-garlic-bread-pinterest-craftfail-400x300.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5:30pm- Disaster... STUPID PINTEREST! I hate you!!! The recipe I wanted to try is an unmitigated disaster and it taste like shit. Christ, is there anything else we can have? I look in the cupboards... empty. I look at the clock...silver lining... Hubbie just got the kids and he can pick something up. I dial my husband's cell. "Hey sweetie, can you please pick up something for dinner?" I ask. "Yeah, sure" he responds. "But why? I thought you were trying some Pinterest thingy out" he continues. I lie and say "We were out of the right ingredients." He then asks "Why didn't you just go to the store then and get them? I mean you had all day, didn't you?" I don't answer. I hang up. Sometimes cell service in the house is spotty. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9:00pm- The kids are in bed. I'm bushed. I'm tired. Hubbie and I are on the loveseat in the den and this fool is looking at me, like he wants to go a round in the sheets, which still haven't been washed. "Be a trooper" I tell myself. I lived through college and I know I NEVER washed those sheets my Freshman year. Fuck it... I'm feeling two bottles of wine and I'm bloated and gassy from all the salt in the takeout, which hubbie picked up for dinner. I explain that I'm not feeling well and ask him to rub my back, he responds with "I have something for you that needs rubbed" Great... Thanks Mr. Romantic. I just told you I feel like shit. Would it kill you to offer to rub my back or my feet? It's not like I spend my days fucking off and doing nothing... well excluding today. But a girl needs her mental health days and such was today for Danielle... female, stay at home blogger Mom. </span><br />
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-4119978895103658762011-12-20T13:51:00.000-05:002013-11-15T10:40:28.640-05:00My Christmas Musings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My post today was inspired by Justin over at <a href="http://daddyknowsless.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Daddy Knows Less</a> and his post <a href="http://daddyknowsless.blogspot.com/2011/12/so-this-is-christmas.html" target="_blank">So This is Christmas</a>. I've been following Justin for awhile now and I am proud to call him a friend. At least an acquaintance... He lives on the East Coast, we've never met and his Blog is way cooler than mine. I don't know if our witty comments back & forth on our respective Blogs and FB qualifies us as friends, but I like to think it does. Merry Christmas DKL. I wish you, your Director, Peanut and Luna the very best that the season has to offer. <br />
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Christmas... I love it; I hate it; I want more of it; I want less of it... all at the same time. <br />
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I love the spirt of the season. I see JOY. I see HOPE. I see LOVE for our fellow man / woman. I see families loving each other & coming together, I see random acts of kindness, people smiling at strangers and treating others as they would be treated. I love seeing these looks on my kids faces...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0VgzqgfJLEo2Hq0qT2Y2KEpa-g_1Auw5_j5TQmTUSut8p2j4sk3fY3ligkal8hhQw2qBs6vCerTvGzv8MM5zERIJDS6kh7dHJ_J7-YDcgzFMxwSiee4AJfEan15BfSNE5EFftKiRtPe8/s1600/IMG_0268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0VgzqgfJLEo2Hq0qT2Y2KEpa-g_1Auw5_j5TQmTUSut8p2j4sk3fY3ligkal8hhQw2qBs6vCerTvGzv8MM5zERIJDS6kh7dHJ_J7-YDcgzFMxwSiee4AJfEan15BfSNE5EFftKiRtPe8/s200/IMG_0268.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buzz is so fricking cool!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nope... NOT UGGS!!!</td></tr>
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I love my family. I love spending Christmas Dinner with them.... and I loved it when Special K tried to camp out, to catch a peek at Old Saint Nick. (she didn't make it... do they ever?) <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqwVIHz30KwSsNjcskxwXIqTb6hP5e5oK5OpCdffPxnCA1QrP5pp19FI6VKq6VRBULobDZjmb8AVSl8SNYVykkobYnm72xgfLpKv5VAI_WE3FTkmu-eNtyxVUBRjOR0fmqqaywnFRayb0/s1600/IMG_1074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqwVIHz30KwSsNjcskxwXIqTb6hP5e5oK5OpCdffPxnCA1QrP5pp19FI6VKq6VRBULobDZjmb8AVSl8SNYVykkobYnm72xgfLpKv5VAI_WE3FTkmu-eNtyxVUBRjOR0fmqqaywnFRayb0/s200/IMG_1074.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twin going in for some green bean casserole!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDGabi6FvzBbyRfP-yySHMKeRroEqXtPnksmlyx1G8r1sVSv91o1Wzc-KhTPgSHgDsVmeWXm_eupHiTDdecOdq5S5IQONVMdeiyxA4MTxX-boncycL2vPU8S4jgCLbb4xoAWX8Oq5xEOc/s1600/IMG_1052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDGabi6FvzBbyRfP-yySHMKeRroEqXtPnksmlyx1G8r1sVSv91o1Wzc-KhTPgSHgDsVmeWXm_eupHiTDdecOdq5S5IQONVMdeiyxA4MTxX-boncycL2vPU8S4jgCLbb4xoAWX8Oq5xEOc/s200/IMG_1052.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Special K waiting for Santa</td></tr>
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I hate that these feelings and acts don't last all year. I hate that in the days leading up to and on the one special day we celebrate the birth of Christ, we are at our best. The next day and the days after... not as much.<br />
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Most of all, I hate that my parents are gone. Gone to place where I can't call them and say Merry Christmas. Gone to a place from where they cannot visit their grandkids & children on Christmas. Christmas 2004 was the last Christmas we would spend with my Dad. It was also the first and only Christmas that he got to celebrate with his only granddaughter. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and KK in the only photo I've been able to find of them together</td></tr>
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It was a Christmas surprise I'll never forget, as I didn't know my Mom and Dad were coming into town. It was the best present I've ever gotten. One I'll never forget. Especially as I ran into my Dad as I bounding down the steps in a rush. Why was I in a rush? Good question... Pants in The Family tricked me... she implied that the surprise guests were people I hadn't seen in years. I <strike>scrubbed this bitch till it shined</strike> cleaned this house from top to botttom in order to make a good impression. I think Pants in The Family just did it to get a free house cleaning out of me. I'm onto you woman!</div>
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Christmas 2009 was the last we would spend with Mom. It was the last time she baked cookies with Special K and Pants in the Family. Christmas Cookie baking days have been hard since. I didn't stick around for it in 2010. I couldn't. I kept seeing Mom sitting in her chair decorating cookies and gabbing with KK. <br />
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This year I stuck around. I even decorated a cookie for my Mom. I still saw her sitting there at the table. She was smiling. That's how I get through the Holidays. I know my Mom and Dad are still there. Smiling and Laughing. Wishing us the best and looking over us. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Merry Christmas Mom and Dad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> We love you and we miss you.</span> </div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Munch</span></div>
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-35886890523112433802011-11-03T12:54:00.000-04:002013-11-15T09:25:41.264-05:00Rescue Heros - My best friend AlexIf you've been around the parenting block for any length of time... you may remember some action figures, TV show and a movie titled Rescue Heroes: The Movie... if you don't, it was popular in the early 2000s. Before some of you really cool parents and fellow bloggers had your spawn, things, peanuts and boos.<br />
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I must have watched this movie on VHS a <strike>hundred</strike>, <strike>thousand,</strike> one million times with my son, Alex. We watched alot of stuff together back then... Scobby Doo, Disney's Hercules, Richard Scary, Blues Clues, Pokeman, Rolly Polly Olly... Don't judge. Mrs Munch was working at Macy's back then, during many evenings mostly, and it was just Mr Munch to handle dinner, baths, reading and bedtimes. Entertainment was obviously part of the package too. Movies and imprumtu home movies were the norm back then.... I digress though. It was Rescue Heroes that was by far the favorite in his small, little three year old world. He had tons of the action figures and several impossible looking rescue vehicles to go with them.<br />
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Throughout the movie...there is a massive, super, electrical storm which is collecting and converging over Greenland. The world must come down together and devise a solution to safely harness and collect the storm's energy before it can unleash further storms, fires and whatnot.... The solution is well.... no spoilers here... go watch the movie. In any event, this is the song that plays during the climatic finale. <br />
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<a href="http://youtu.be/kbxf64t5hNM">http://youtu.be/kbxf64t5hNM</a><br />
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This song often plays in my head. The song brings back alot of memories of Alex and I. The days when we would ask each other everyday "Who's my best friend?" and respond in kind "Me Alex" or "Me Daddy". I miss those days. Those were days of innocence... him as a 3 or 4 year old boy and me as a young father still trying to find that damn manual that my own Dad said he had for raising me. <br />
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But... A 10 yr old son in today's world is over those times and his Dad's influences. We Dads are no longer the best friends or coolest guys ever. We're the guys whose advise and experiences are outdated and secondary to those of his obviously smarter 5th grade friends. Sure, I know he'll be back when he gets past this nuisance called adolesence. A far away day when he is older and becomes a father himself. I really wish my Dad was still here to bounce this stuff off of and ask how he got through it. He was my best friend too. I miss him. I miss talking about fatherhood with him. <br />
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In the meantime I guess I will have have to get by on memories and pictures. I miss you Alex. You're still my best friend. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQWsxOIuKNBepuQTM0KG377p6nQMzCN4-0xZaKqwfhbh1WNTdqLIRAUVEG8SeLWSSHja4RvvMuk5KzfdVlMynGW_nFfR_gqSBtBVO7-Cvg3gYwYrQ5Qn74ikFnnUSREQfgUQmWS3iU8XV/s1600/013_10A_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQWsxOIuKNBepuQTM0KG377p6nQMzCN4-0xZaKqwfhbh1WNTdqLIRAUVEG8SeLWSSHja4RvvMuk5KzfdVlMynGW_nFfR_gqSBtBVO7-Cvg3gYwYrQ5Qn74ikFnnUSREQfgUQmWS3iU8XV/s320/013_10A_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Circa 2004</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rIKaab1-Mq75RQcba5TS2Nh_qJ3FEQomiROm0XHVeXWyJ-CgTQK4dvH2YxTI3aTXy5i02WUy6aUPCMMpw2b7RHQ4EpRi5HhaQSRf71bvSa9K8OjPZExPDfq3tjmDGz-b4VUeF9GR5q6S/s1600/Chapelfield+103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rIKaab1-Mq75RQcba5TS2Nh_qJ3FEQomiROm0XHVeXWyJ-CgTQK4dvH2YxTI3aTXy5i02WUy6aUPCMMpw2b7RHQ4EpRi5HhaQSRf71bvSa9K8OjPZExPDfq3tjmDGz-b4VUeF9GR5q6S/s320/Chapelfield+103.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7 years later</td></tr>
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Love,<br />
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Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-20763011927278355932011-10-24T10:09:00.000-04:002013-11-15T10:15:26.916-05:00One Bad A$$ Barbie<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGm6iP50C8KVRAXhYGF6F6vWcN8sl5IoktL_kTXnDiLUZRxXZNvLPavp2Sf_zWVtHjA2UquITWmG1YLR98SzXvC1XvGWAfe8E5Gu__1Fe9CUMX3TB1yrjRhmD4-l0381K88dVCMeveSJW/s1600/badassbarbie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGm6iP50C8KVRAXhYGF6F6vWcN8sl5IoktL_kTXnDiLUZRxXZNvLPavp2Sf_zWVtHjA2UquITWmG1YLR98SzXvC1XvGWAfe8E5Gu__1Fe9CUMX3TB1yrjRhmD4-l0381K88dVCMeveSJW/s320/badassbarbie.jpg" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her little dog, Cac-ti scares me a bit....</td></tr>
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Good Morning Dear Readers... <br />
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I keep coming across these rants or snippets of moral outrage over the new Barbie. Anger over Barbie being inked... Disbelief that Mattel would allow such a thing to happen to the beloved, fashionista Icon... Outrage by parents that this Barbie is not a proper role model for their daughters.... <br />
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Really now??? C'mon...... wait for it..... wait for it.... ARE PEOPLE OUT THEIR EFFING MINDS?<br />
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This Barbie is not being actively marketed to young girls, although maybe it should. More on that later. This Barbie is part of the Adult collectible series with a price tag of $50.00. If you're a parent shelling out $50.00 for a Barbie... you need to have your fucking head examined. <br />
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Did I mention she is an eight inch plastic doll? It's not Mattel, nor Barbie's, job to be a role model for your daughters. That would be your/our job as parents. Moms and Dads.... if you don't want your little girls to grow up to be skanks and strippers.... well then be a role model. Teach your daughters to love who they are, about having self respect, and dressing age appropriately for starters. Don't rely on TV / cartoon characters or toys (Barbie's) to act as your child's role model.<br />
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Let's actually look at the doll for a minute here... She like all Barbies is pretty cute. She is also much more tastefully done that those <strike>whore</strike> Bratz Dolls, which ARE marketed to young girls. I'm looking at the doll and seeing something in it, that reminds me of someone else. Ahhh, that's it. The pink hair and tats. The doll reminds me of Pink, who is one bad ass rocker, hot wife and Mom. <br />
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Pink. A woman that does not let society tell her how should she "appear" or "be". A woman determined to be who she is. A woman who is unique, confident, self-respecting, strong and fun to name a few. In fact, the kind of qualities that I hope that my daughter has one day. It's not about her tattoos or pink hair people.<br />
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It's about OUR jobs as PARENTS to be proper role models for our kids. Eating right (Everything in moderation folks. You can still go to McDonald's once in a while) Teaching through example (Not cutting people off or driving like a maniac) Being respectful of others (Talking to people. Not yelling or talking down to them)<br />
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As best you can anyway. None of us is perfect... we slip up. We yell at our kids unnecessarily when we are stressed out, we let profanity slip or we let our kids play video games for too long sometimes. The trick isn't to cover that shit up or being a hypocrite and telling your kids not to, while you do it. The trick is just to be as honest as possible, when possible, and on an age appropriate basis. To let our kids know.... that even though we do our best to be good role models for you, sometimes Mom and Dad have bad days too.<br />
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Parenting is hard and they should know that. However being a teenager is hard too and we should remember that. <br />
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MunchMunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-30538419449547244932011-08-06T12:32:00.000-04:002013-11-15T10:12:43.776-05:00Hot'lanta.... A Grad and a Dad...Disclaimer... This blog is a little long, even by my standards. I still hope you stick around and read the whole thing. It was a emotionally hard blog to <strike>type</strike> write.<br />
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I traveled South this week to Hot'lanta, which I suspect may be a gateway to the inner circles of Hell. While some may suspect that I was offered the chance to see what the purgatory of Hell looks like, so that I may have a chance to redeem my wicked ways and lead a more pure and chaste life, that was not the case. <br />
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I was in Hot'lanta to see my not so little, (32) brother's graduation. Sean Patrick Collins. One of the 2011 graduates of Kennesaw State University. Sean, I can't begin to tell you how proud I am that you graduated from college and that you are going onto Law School in the fall. Your drive and ambitious nature WILL propel you to the top. I love ya Perry Mason. (even though you did what you did and you should go to Church and ask for forgiveness)<br />
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Some folks reading this blog may be a little confused at this point and may be asking <strike>themselves</strike> or no one in particular: "Dude has a brother"? Yes party people, I do. I also have a sister from another mother, Melissa, who is a feisty, take no shit, always ready to rumble (think I'm joking? I'm not) young woman; who is also, more importantly, a gentle and loving mother to two wonderful and handsome boys named Toby and Ty. This was the second time I had met with her. This time, she and I got have some alone time and connect on our own. I'm happy we did Melissa. Thank you for being open with me and trusting me. I know it had to be hard. I love ya. <br />
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Reflecting in hindsight... these Collins kids are wrapped pretty tight and do not give trust easily. (With good reason) They have however always stood back to back looking out for each other and believe me when I say... these two are not to be trifled with, as they only put up with shit from the other. <br />
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That brings us to our shared commonality, our biological father: Patrick Lee Collins. Some people are really shitting their pants, as they had no clue that I was born David Lee Collins after my paternal Grandfather. I'm not going to lie... before going down South... I was nervous. Very nervous. I didn't know what to think about meeting a man that I had no recollection of and who hadn't seen me in 37 years. <br />
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What can I say about Pat or Pops as I've come to know him as? 48 hours in Hot'lanta really wasn't enough time to discover and uncover the total sum of his being. I'm glad we finally did meet though. I've always carried some baggage around about it. What did I discover? DNA is pretty powerful stuff. After meeting him, I can say that I do understand myself a little bit better, as he and I share traits. Some good and some not so good. <br />
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Pops is a good man. A man that is proud of his kids. A man I could see bursting with pride that one of his kids was graduating college. A man that was happy to have all of his kids together under one roof and getting along like brothers and sisters should. I hope we made him happy during this brief time together. <br />
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Pops is also pretty quick to react negatively or defensively. I can say that because I'm same way and I can recognize it when I see it. It's one of those not so good traits I mentioned before. He is also <strike>a bit neurotic</strike> a crazy, old man, who looks a bit like Emmett "Doc" Brown from the "Back To The Future" with his wild ass long hair.<br />
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Pops... if you are reading this and I hope you are... I'm grateful that we finally met. It resolved the "I wonder" that I felt and thought about for much of my life. If I may... I'd like to offer an observation and give a small bit of advise. You seem unhappy with your life, like you've given up on anything good happening to you. I understand that there is a bad past out there. Fair enough, but the past is the past. We can't live in it and we sure as hell can't change it. What we can do however is try to better ourselves. <br />
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If you are asking "Why?" Because you have three pretty good kids who care about you and want you to be happy. You also have four grandkids that although you don't know them very well, are going to go out in the world and make their mark. You have every reason to be proud of your family and to take joy in their accomplishments. Make that your happy place everyday and just enjoy life. I know there are physical limitations, but I'm sure there is something out there that would make you happy to do and to fill your time, while enjoying the Florida weather. <br />
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and those my friends, are the Musings of Munch for today.... outMunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1618332292062319171.post-42856945540642374702011-06-17T11:09:00.000-04:002013-11-15T09:38:42.678-05:00Turning Seven… Is this supposed to be Heaven?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So my baby is turning seven today…. Kaitlyn Paige Mundschenk arrived at <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>10:16pm on 06/17/2004. It was a beautiful summer evening. Beautiful, in that it was literally a beautiful summer night AND because I won the wager between the delivering OB and myself, on what time Kaitlyn would arrive… Experience Schmerience pal… pay up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seven years…. Where did it go? The time I mean? She was just taking her first steps… Getting teeth… (for the first time) Keeping us up all night due to a formula sensitivity issue… (Karma for her brother sleeping through the night at a month and a half) </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now it’s about silly bands, riding her bike, looking at yearbooks with her girlfriends, and listening and talking about all things Bieber! WTH??? Who is this little Tween? How did this happen? She is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">seven</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She should still be about dress up,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fairy tale princesses, and boys should still be gross and dumb! It’s that too much for a Dad to ask??? 10 years… Give me ten years of my little girl being .. well a little girl… </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You know what it is? I blame tweens and teens. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little girls are being exposed to the antics of tweens far too early and then want to emulate them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s bad enough that she is going to grow up and discover I’m not a superhero, nor am I the strongest man in the world. With all hyper development* going on… she is going to find this out when is she like 12. SO NOT COOL!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">*-Totally trade marking that. Hyper Development can not to be used anywhere without the express written permission of Musings of Munch. Thank you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fortunately, I still get many glimpses of the comedian she is and always has been. From the get go, my baby girl was Daddy’s Little Comedian. She has never stopped trying to make our family laugh. Her perfect day would be spent all day laughing and playing games with just her family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She has also always been Daddy’s Little Snuggler. She seems to be growing out of this… Something I strongly dislike…. But like all fathers, I have no choice but to accept, as she'll eventually find someone to replace me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Describing Kaitlyn…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">K - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kind Hearted </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A – Amusing to all</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I – Intelligent and introverted</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">T – Tomboy </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">L – Loves her animals</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Y – Yells when you hurt her</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">N – Nosy. Always up in yo business!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hey KK… if you are reading this on a day, in the not too distant future, when you are much older…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hope you had a great 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> birthday. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love ya baby girl with all my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">P.S. I’m sure I’d like a call. You should totally pick up the phone and call your Daddy. Better yet, just come over and snuggle with me on the couch, while we watch some Ninja Warrior reruns.</span>Munchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12560503018376118140noreply@blogger.com3