<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526</id><updated>2011-07-14T17:25:19.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dicking Around</title><subtitle type='html'>An ongoing experiment in observing humanity.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>115</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-114532817361581100</id><published>2006-04-17T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T22:42:53.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE WEEK(yes "week" I haven't found the time to post daily SHUT UP!)Fame is the perfume of heroic deeds.Socrates</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/114532817361581100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/114532817361581100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_04_16_archive.html#114532817361581100' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-114532790618096337</id><published>2006-04-17T22:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T22:38:26.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MOTHER F*CKING MOVIES!After the steaming pile of crap I just spent $8.50 to view I am even more confident in the ability of big mistake to sell. For those of you who do not already know, big mistake is the title of the film I am currently editing. Hollywood has fallen so in love with itself that all it feels need be done to make a movie successful is to show boobs and blow something up. Where the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/114532790618096337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/114532790618096337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_04_16_archive.html#114532790618096337' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113896255294759076</id><published>2006-02-03T05:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T05:29:12.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYAmoebas at the startWere not complexThey tore themsleves apartAnd started sex.Arthur Gutterman, Sex</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113896255294759076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113896255294759076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_29_archive.html#113896255294759076' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113896229218357114</id><published>2006-02-03T04:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T05:24:52.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BOY IS THE MONKEY RATTLING HIS CAGE!I rarely let my monkey out of his cage, largely because when he's out people get hurt. Physically and/or emotionally there tends to be casualties. You see the monkey can only take so much. He can only sit by eating bananas while watching his wrangler (me) be accosted by idiots and charlatans for so long before he begins pacing his cage. The monkey can only </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113896229218357114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113896229218357114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_29_archive.html#113896229218357114' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113834505814719559</id><published>2006-01-27T01:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T01:57:38.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAY (DEC 6 2003)I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones.Walt Whitman,Song of Myself</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834505814719559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834505814719559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113834505814719559' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113834495765258615</id><published>2006-01-27T01:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T01:55:57.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A REPOST I BELIEVE STILL HAS SOME MERITThe following is a reposting of an older blog entry of mine.  Yep still funny.- I realized awhile ago that I am a fat guy and I am okay with that. I will never be thin. It's just not going to happen. I like dark beer, and I will not stop eating carbs. That's another thing when did Carbohydrates become "carbs" according to webster a Carbohydrate is "any of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834495765258615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834495765258615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113834495765258615' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113834346358583880</id><published>2006-01-27T01:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T01:31:03.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYIf I can catch him once upon the hip,I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.Shakespear, Merchant of Venice</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834346358583880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834346358583880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113834346358583880' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113834330494514940</id><published>2006-01-27T01:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T01:28:24.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SILLY CUSTOMERS, THOSE PEOPLE HANDLE YOUR FOOD!Recently I had the misfortune of witnessing some of the worste behavior of adults in my life.  I was in an Italian restaraunt and when our server went to the table next to us and began to greet them etc. he (our server) was interupted and the woman customer demanded (not asked) that they get a new candle for the table because this one was used.  The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834330494514940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113834330494514940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113834330494514940' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113816496535774849</id><published>2006-01-24T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T23:56:43.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYPULVIS ET UMBRA SUMUS.(We are but dust and shadow.)-Horace, Odes, IV</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113816496535774849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113816496535774849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113816496535774849' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113816479358385862</id><published>2006-01-24T23:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T23:57:22.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SOCIETIES FEARSWorking with so many different people on a daily basis has shown me the best and worste of humanity as well as those who I question are a part of humanity at all. People, all people have at the very least one thing in common. I am refereing to something deeper than "he has green eyes and I have green eyes!". The thing I see that all people (being human beings or not) have in common</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113816479358385862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113816479358385862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_22_archive.html#113816479358385862' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113783601112109845</id><published>2006-01-21T04:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T04:33:31.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYTime goes, you say?  Ah no!Alas, time stays, we go.Austin Dobson, The Paradox of Time</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113783601112109845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113783601112109845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_15_archive.html#113783601112109845' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-113783555997209511</id><published>2006-01-21T04:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T04:26:38.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm back! Yes I am back online and have a little (very little) free time to blog. So when I'm finished updating the page I'll be pondering for you (and me) to enjoy.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113783555997209511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/113783555997209511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2006_01_15_archive.html#113783555997209511' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108771074986712982</id><published>2004-06-20T01:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-20T01:52:29.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYThe greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none.Carlyle,Heroes and Hero-Worship</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108771074986712982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108771074986712982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_06_20_archive.html#108771074986712982' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108771055508605914</id><published>2004-06-20T01:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-20T01:49:15.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BEWARE FATHERS!I had a girlfriend in high school and as much as I liked her family hated me.  Her father was especially cold toward me.  Well me and the girl are no longer together due in large because of pressure from her family.  Well the father came into my restaurant today. Mwahahaha!  He didn't recognize me at first but it came to him when I called him by name.  I am not saying that I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108771055508605914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108771055508605914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_06_20_archive.html#108771055508605914' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108675018857410205</id><published>2004-06-08T22:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T23:03:08.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYWhen life is woe,And hope is dumb,The world says, "Go!"The grave says, "Come!"Arthur Gutterman,Betel - Nuts</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108675018857410205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108675018857410205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_06_06_archive.html#108675018857410205' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108674988797503785</id><published>2004-06-08T22:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-08T22:58:07.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ReaganA good man and great president has past after a long and prosperous life.  He was a man of action and his actions spoke volumes of his character.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108674988797503785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108674988797503785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_06_06_archive.html#108674988797503785' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108554799140478301</id><published>2004-05-26T01:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-26T01:06:31.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYFame is what you have taken,Character's what you give;When to this truth you waken,Then you begin to live.Bayard Taylor,Improvisations</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108554799140478301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108554799140478301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108554799140478301' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108554775728507974</id><published>2004-05-26T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-26T01:03:06.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Strange and unusualHave you ever met someone for the first time that you swear you've already met?  I am not speaking of a reasonable feeling of familiarity.  I mean you are introduced to someone that you know, absolutely know you have never before seen in your life and something inside your neural pathways tells you that there is a record of this person somewhere inside your mind.  This odd </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108554775728507974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108554775728507974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108554775728507974' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108546564843059643</id><published>2004-05-25T02:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T02:14:08.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYI am not arguing with you - I am telling you.J. McN. Whistler,Gentle Art of Making Enemies</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108546564843059643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108546564843059643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108546564843059643' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108546556857629723</id><published>2004-05-25T02:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T02:15:15.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Contrarian?If I argue the point that I am contrarian by saying that I am not, does that make me such?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108546556857629723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108546556857629723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108546556857629723' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108536313946198688</id><published>2004-05-23T21:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T21:45:39.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYFACT: the quality of being actual.Merriam - WebsterDictionary</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108536313946198688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108536313946198688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108536313946198688' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108536297083344886</id><published>2004-05-23T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T21:48:34.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"In My Opinion ..."I have been reading a lot of Bloggs lately and the most frequently used phrase is; "In my opinion..." and it is inevitable followed by information gathered from someone else.  That in it self is not bad or annoying, however when the persons in question "back up" there opinion with supposed facts that aren't facts at all, that is very annoying.  I cannot stomach this.  It </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108536297083344886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108536297083344886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_05_23_archive.html#108536297083344886' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108331146819021918</id><published>2004-04-30T03:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-30T03:56:30.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYArt lies in concealing art.(Ars est celare artem.)Ovid,Art of Love</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108331146819021918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108331146819021918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_25_archive.html#108331146819021918' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108331126652722777</id><published>2004-04-30T03:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-30T03:52:04.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ENTERTAINMENT IS IN THE EYE (OR EAR) OF THE BEHOLDERThis guy being on stage and making money performing makes me want to blow my brains out.  When I see silly shit like this it makes me question why I spent so much on schooling.  It does howver explain why the french like Jerry Lewis so much.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108331126652722777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108331126652722777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_25_archive.html#108331126652722777' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108286840281746990</id><published>2004-04-25T00:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T00:50:53.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYKnowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.Tennyson,Locksley Hall</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108286840281746990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108286840281746990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_25_archive.html#108286840281746990' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108286783122365276</id><published>2004-04-25T00:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T00:48:03.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>An exception to the ruleI am usually a believer in the saying, "children should be seen and not heard".  However every once in a great while I get surprised and briefly change my mind.While speaking with my oldest nephew he asked me why I carry a side arm on my person at all times.  I tried ending the conversation quickly because I know what his mothers opinions about fire arms are.  I told </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108286783122365276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108286783122365276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_25_archive.html#108286783122365276' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108170085254905694</id><published>2004-04-11T12:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-11T12:31:24.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYFortune favors the bold.(Audentis Fortuna juvat.)Virgil,Aeneid, X</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108170085254905694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108170085254905694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_11_archive.html#108170085254905694' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-108170066201085558</id><published>2004-04-11T12:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-11T12:28:14.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Allswell!Well my loyal reader(s) A steady job has been found!  And all in the kingdom rejoiced!  YAY!  It is another restaurant job but a job non the less.  It is a huge step up from the rotting shit hole owned by the "fat drunk pole"  that I came from.  It is an Italian place with better food a wine list and better clientel.  Things have been good thus far and money has been decent for a first</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108170066201085558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/108170066201085558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_04_11_archive.html#108170066201085558' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107964014452862512</id><published>2004-03-18T15:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-18T15:05:44.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYAgainst stupidity the very godsThemselves contend in vain. Schiller,The Maid of Orleans</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107964014452862512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107964014452862512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_03_14_archive.html#107964014452862512' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107964000017522581</id><published>2004-03-18T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-18T15:03:19.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Been around the world and seen that only stupid people are breeding..."I have decided that no matter where I go, no matter how I try to avoid them, stupid people will find me.  They will either find me or they will have been there before I get there and have left their mark on others.  I was at one of those odd jobs I've taken and this poor guy, the supervisor, was having problems.  I was to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107964000017522581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107964000017522581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_03_14_archive.html#107964000017522581' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107932833833460033</id><published>2004-03-15T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-15T00:28:53.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE WEEKTime was - Time shall be - drain the glass -But where in Time is now?John Quincy Adams,The Hour Glass</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107932833833460033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107932833833460033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_03_14_archive.html#107932833833460033' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107932803562609137</id><published>2004-03-15T00:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-15T00:23:50.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Not quite Fucked BloggI know it's no excuse but I have actually been busy.  This working odd jobs shit is for the birds!  It's tiring, really.  I'm still looking for steady work while my resumes float around the town collecting dust I'm sure.  I'm cooking a couple shifts here, setting up stages there, moving hospital equipment this week.  On top of all else I am still trying to get this film of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107932803562609137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107932803562609137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_03_14_archive.html#107932803562609137' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107799968679128646</id><published>2004-02-28T15:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-28T15:24:20.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And another falls silentMonday, February 23rd, 2004-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3:01 am  "Who does not understand, should either learn, or be silent."- John DeeAnd so I shall.  -Faust13I regret to inform you that Fausts blogging time has expired.  It has past into oblivion.  Fell by the way side.  Past on.  Gone the way of the do do</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107799968679128646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107799968679128646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_22_archive.html#107799968679128646' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107794311293913431</id><published>2004-02-27T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-28T15:00:31.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYThat one talent that is death to hide.Milton,Sonnet</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107794311293913431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107794311293913431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_22_archive.html#107794311293913431' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107794293746893317</id><published>2004-02-27T23:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-27T23:38:30.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Audition Day AproachethCasting for an independent feature certainly is more work than I had expected.  But on March 6th at the Gwinnett civic center the auditions will commence.  It will be interesting at the very least.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107794293746893317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107794293746893317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_22_archive.html#107794293746893317' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107731239157060408</id><published>2004-02-20T16:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-20T16:29:14.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYBetween the dark and the daylight,When the night is begining to lower,Comes a pause in the day's occupations,That is known as the Children's Hour.Longfellow,The Children's Hour</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107731239157060408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107731239157060408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_15_archive.html#107731239157060408' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107731205648122468</id><published>2004-02-20T16:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-20T16:23:39.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Didn't mean to frighten the boyMy nephew has a friend spending the night tonight.  I was unaware until the boy walked into my house.  My nephew then introduced us, I shook his hand after cleaning the gun oil off of it (I was cleaning my Makrov at the time).  My sister then asked if it was ok.  I said yes and that is that.  Sometimes I enjoy having my nephews and nieces around, other times like </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107731205648122468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107731205648122468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_15_archive.html#107731205648122468' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107604009847650881</id><published>2004-02-05T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-05T23:04:01.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Not Exactly a RetractionIt has been brought to my attention that I attributed a quote to an author who may not have said it.  I apologize and just like the non journalist I am I will reveal my sources:  This site says Andy Rooney.   This Site also attributes it to Andy Rooney.However This Site has an edited version coming from an anonymous author.  So is it still up in the air who actually </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107604009847650881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107604009847650881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107604009847650881' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107597848511089318</id><published>2004-02-05T05:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-05T05:57:06.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAY"I like big cars, big boats, big motorcycles, big houses and big campfires.  I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some governmental stooge with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts for squirting out babies. Guns do not make you a killer.  I think killing makes you a killer.  You can kill someone with a baseball bat or a car, but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107597848511089318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107597848511089318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107597848511089318' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107588923288421139</id><published>2004-02-04T05:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-04T05:09:33.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Funny, I don't feel lustful.The wretched King Minos has decided your fate. His tale wraps around his body 2 times.The sweet light no longer strikes against your eyes. Your shade has been banished to... the Second Level of Hell! Second Level of HellYou have come to a place mute of all light, where the wind bellows as the sea does in a tempest. This is the realm where the lustful spend </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107588923288421139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107588923288421139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107588923288421139' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107588915572680856</id><published>2004-02-04T05:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-02-04T05:08:15.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!Here is how you matched up against all the levels:LevelScorePurgatory (Repenting Believers)HighLevel 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)HighLevel 2 (Lustful)Very HighLevel 3 (Gluttonous)LowLevel 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)LowLevel 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Very LowLevel 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Very LowLevel 7 (Violent)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107588915572680856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107588915572680856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107588915572680856' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107560102387693634</id><published>2004-01-31T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T21:05:59.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYI sometimes hold it half a sinTo put in words the grief I feel;For words, like Nature, half revealAnd half conceal the Soul within. Thomas Hood,The Song of the Shirt</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107560102387693634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107560102387693634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107560102387693634' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107560054045399433</id><published>2004-01-31T20:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T21:10:35.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SHIT IN THE TUB!I was kept awake last night by dreadful thoughts of what could possibly be happening to the plumbing in my house.  You see What was first thought to be just the run of the mill clogged toilet turned out to be a "shit ton" of blockage and an overflowing septic tank.  I could stoop to making ASS loads of SHITTY puns BUTT I wont.  Everyone at the house took a turn at plunging the "</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107560054045399433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107560054045399433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107560054045399433' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107545123548288719</id><published>2004-01-30T03:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-30T03:29:28.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYMoney isn't the root of all evil.Assholes with money are the root of all evil!Denis Leary,No Cure For Cancer</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107545123548288719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107545123548288719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107545123548288719' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107545111905756226</id><published>2004-01-30T03:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-30T03:27:31.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have a job!Finally the search has paid off.  Actually it had nothing to do with my search, it had a lot to do with the endless networking I do on a daily basis.  Being an actor I try to meet as many people in as many different fields as I can.  It's like second nature.  Anywhoo!  I got a call from one of my old customers from the bar who had found out I was no longer employed.  They thought </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107545111905756226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107545111905756226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107545111905756226' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107536720764142436</id><published>2004-01-29T04:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T04:08:59.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAY    S'pose you got a job a work an' there's jus' one fella wants the job.  You got to pay 'im what he asts.  But s'pose they's a hundred men wants that job.  S'pose them men got kids an' them kids is hungry.  S'pose a nickel'll buy at leas' sompin for the kids.  An' you got a hundred men.  Ju' offer 'em a nickel - why, they'll kill each other fightin' for that nickel.John </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107536720764142436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107536720764142436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107536720764142436' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107536687971214894</id><published>2004-01-29T04:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T04:03:31.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I did promise a post didn't I?Well I have spent three tanks of gas looking for employment and still no job.  It's alright though it has left me with a lot of time to do very needed paper work for the film.  I can already feel myself settling for the first job to call me back, that sucks.  I am not in a huge financial bind but being jobless makes me uncomfortable at best.  I can't understand how</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107536687971214894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107536687971214894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107536687971214894' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107527752944721598</id><published>2004-01-28T03:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-28T03:23:55.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NO TIME!There is just not enough time in the day to look for a job, work on production paper work, and post.  My apologies to all my loyal fans (all four of you) I promise a post tomorrow.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107527752944721598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107527752944721598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107527752944721598' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107527657736875234</id><published>2004-01-28T02:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-28T02:59:16.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>INTERESTING LITTLE TID BITcreate your own visited states map or write about it on the open travel guide</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107527657736875234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107527657736875234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_25_archive.html#107527657736875234' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107499028981481057</id><published>2004-01-24T19:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-24T19:26:55.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYBeware the fury of a patient man.Dryden,Absalom and Achitophel</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107499028981481057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107499028981481057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107499028981481057' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107498988449086538</id><published>2004-01-24T19:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-24T19:20:10.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>David Chappell is not funny.I recently decided to give The Chappell Show another chance.  My friends insist he is very funny, hilarious at times.  Well I watched and I hold firm with my original opinion.  That man is less funny than a heat rash I once had in the crack of my ass.  In fact I believe I enjoyed the three day rash more than the hour I spent watching his show.  David Chappell is not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107498988449086538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107498988449086538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107498988449086538' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107465193619626854</id><published>2004-01-20T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T21:27:36.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYBut when to mischief mortals bend their will,How soon they find fit instruments of ill!(INSERT EVIL LAUGH HERE)Pope,The Rape of the Lock</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107465193619626854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107465193619626854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107465193619626854' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107465147525484654</id><published>2004-01-20T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T21:21:44.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I suppose I cant expect everyone to understandI began posting comments on a friends sisters blogg to just crack a few jokes like I do with other people.  The difference I have realized is that the other bloggs I comment on belong to people I know and who know me.  I seem to have stirred a bloody wasps nest on that poor girls page.  She's pissed her friends are pissed.  I even tried my version </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107465147525484654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107465147525484654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107465147525484654' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107462314588608632</id><published>2004-01-20T13:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T13:27:45.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYOut of the cradle endlessly rocking,Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle ...A reminiscence sing.Walt Whitman,Out of the Cradle</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107462314588608632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107462314588608632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107462314588608632' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107462286170603267</id><published>2004-01-20T13:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-20T13:23:01.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Memories...I was going through my CD collection last night and began popping in seemingly random CDs.  The first was Bob Dylan "jokerman" was the song that played.  My mind began running memories like old TV shows.  This song played memories of College; myself and Forest drinking cheap beer and "smokin", more often than not talking about acting or school.  The next song, "Little silver ring" (</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107462286170603267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107462286170603267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_18_archive.html#107462286170603267' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107429388045047375</id><published>2004-01-16T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T17:59:55.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm number 1I just typed in Dicking Around at Google and it seems I'm the number one find.  Interesting.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107429388045047375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107429388045047375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107429388045047375' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107428553485721184</id><published>2004-01-16T15:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T15:40:49.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYArt lies in concealing art.(Ars est celare artem.)Ovid</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107428553485721184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107428553485721184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107428553485721184' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107428489897860339</id><published>2004-01-16T15:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-16T20:44:39.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>We stepped through the Looking Glass and made it out of the Wardrobe.Paris On PonceFaust and myself went on a Job search in Midtown Atlanta yesterday.  We stumbled first into the most stereotypical Gay bar in existence.  As I opened the door we were bombarded with George Michaels, "I want your sex".  The three customers in the bar ogled Faust with many smiles, knods and winks.  I told Faust </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107428489897860339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107428489897860339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107428489897860339' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107404539646958932</id><published>2004-01-13T20:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-13T20:58:26.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTES OF THE DAYRevenge is a kind of wild justice...Frabcis Bacon,Essays:  Of RevengeVengence is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.New Testament,Romans 7, 19If I can catch him once upon the hip,I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.Shakespear,Merchant of Venice, act 1, scene 3</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107404539646958932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107404539646958932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107404539646958932' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107404477453767538</id><published>2004-01-13T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-13T20:48:04.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dick Was Fucked!How interesting is it that I was FIRED so soon after my last post?  Take a peek below.  The axe has fallen in my direction.  I will have to be employed by tomorrow so a searching I will go.  The reason given was that I did not charge a customer for a shot that I poured but when I proved that all drinks made were in the computer I was told that I would have to talk to the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107404477453767538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107404477453767538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107404477453767538' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107401288830523656</id><published>2004-01-13T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-13T11:56:37.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYI celebrate myself, and sing myself,And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.Walt Whitman,Song of Myself</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107401288830523656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107401288830523656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107401288830523656' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107401272228751653</id><published>2004-01-13T11:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-13T11:57:35.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My Lovely JobOn my day off I was called into a meeting for all bartenders (accept any of them related to the owner or owners friends).  Upon arrival I was informed that we were missing half a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka.  A lengthy speech ensued about bar costs and not charging the right price for premium drinks.  The Operations manager informed us that only 10 shots of Grey Goose were accounted</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107401272228751653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107401272228751653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107401272228751653' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107392956404105135</id><published>2004-01-12T12:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-12T12:46:24.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYReform must come from within, not from without.  You cannot legislate virtue.Cardinal Gibbons,Addressing the clergy, 1909</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107392956404105135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107392956404105135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_11_archive.html#107392956404105135' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107365941654178250</id><published>2004-01-09T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T09:43:56.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYHe who will not reason, is a bigot; he who cannot reason is a fool; and he who dares not is a slave.Sir William Drummond,Academical Questions</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107365941654178250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107365941654178250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107365941654178250' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107365926620290249</id><published>2004-01-09T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-09T09:48:43.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Where is our age of reason?The vast majority of people do not think before they act.  They live their lives merely reacting to others.  I'm convinced this is caused by our societal laziness leaking over into laziness of the mind.  They have become a society so rushed that their anxiousness has turned to laziness.  They feel the need to be accessible at every second of the day so they carry a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107365926620290249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107365926620290249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107365926620290249' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107352751331097940</id><published>2004-01-07T21:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T21:06:51.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAY... we quarrel in print, by the book; ... The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct;  and you may avoid that too, with an if.Shakespeare,As You Like It, Act 5, Scene 4</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107352751331097940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107352751331097940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107352751331097940' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107352717812163956</id><published>2004-01-07T20:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-07T20:59:57.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have realized...I have realized that the reason why most people disagree in a relationship is misunderstanding.  I am currently listening to my sister and her husband argue.  They aren't fighting per say but they are having a heated argument.  I have the unique position of not being directly involved and as an Observationalist I understand what they are both saying.  The truth is that they </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107352717812163956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107352717812163956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107352717812163956' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107329842405244635</id><published>2004-01-05T05:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-05T05:27:23.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYSome for renown, on scraps of learning dote,And think they grow immortal as they quote.Edward Young,Love of Fame</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107329842405244635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107329842405244635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107329842405244635' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107329823601748088</id><published>2004-01-05T05:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-05T05:35:04.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why do they say that?"It's the thought that counts."If that was true then why did you bother buying a gift?"It's not the size of the boat, it's the motion in the ocean?"First of all it might be true but it'll take a long ass time to get to Spain in a row boat no matter how the ocean is moving.  Second if size didn't matter than why try to make a man with a small penis feel better by </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107329823601748088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107329823601748088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2004_01_04_archive.html#107329823601748088' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107311632485678249</id><published>2004-01-03T02:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-03T02:52:22.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYOur hearts, though stout and brave,Still like muffled drums are beatingFuneral marches to the grave.Longfellow,A Psalm of Life</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107311632485678249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107311632485678249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107311632485678249' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107311622934274195</id><published>2004-01-03T02:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-03T02:50:47.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Are my Quotes revealing my mood? I have noticed the QUOTE OF THE DAY's are getting quite gloomy.  I realized that's because when I'm trying to come up with one lately I am in one of my hatred for humanity slumps.I say hatred for humanity when in fact it is more of frustration.  I see people walk around without thinking on a daily basis and sometimes it gets to me and I become glad that "The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107311622934274195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107311622934274195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107311622934274195' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107305349899468372</id><published>2004-01-02T09:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-02T09:25:17.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYSatan the envious said with a sigh:Christians know more about their hell than I.Alfred Kreymborg,Envious Satan</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107305349899468372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107305349899468372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107305349899468372' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107305296039307097</id><published>2004-01-02T09:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-01-02T09:16:18.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Much Ado About NothingOkay well turns out Blogspot was just glitching up for a few days and my good old site was fine all along.  I apologize to all of you for the confusion but "I'm much better now".</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107305296039307097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107305296039307097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107305296039307097' title=''/><author><name>dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01623526723602598278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107279177910756863</id><published>2003-12-30T08:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-30T08:46:49.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ANOTHER QUOTE OF THE DAYTo desire immortality is to desire the eternal perpetuation of a great mistake. Schopenhauer,The World as Will and Idea</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279177910756863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279177910756863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107279177910756863' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107279154579434917</id><published>2003-12-30T08:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-30T08:39:22.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYI do not set my life at a pin's fee;And, for my soul, what can it do to that,Being a thing immortal as itself?Shakespeare,Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 4</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279154579434917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279154579434917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107279154579434917' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107279048670215542</id><published>2003-12-30T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-30T08:33:26.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If I was given the chance...My previous post about immortality (see below) asked anyone willing to respond the question:  If given the chance would you become immortal?  I only got one response and unfortunately it was the one person whose response I could have guessed.  Well as promised I will answer my own question.Immortality is such a delicious notion to most that countless stories have </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279048670215542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107279048670215542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107279048670215542' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107265657248763164</id><published>2003-12-28T19:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-28T19:09:49.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYBETWEEN DAYSREVEREND:  Sir, you speak blasphemy!SIR:  Fluently.Two Men,Tuck Everlasting</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107265657248763164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107265657248763164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107265657248763164' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107265623019842777</id><published>2003-12-28T19:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-28T19:04:07.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYHAVING TO DO WITH YESTERDAY... who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns.  Puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?Shakespeare,Hamlet, Act 3, scene 1</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107265623019842777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107265623019842777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_28_archive.html#107265623019842777' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107251899048092832</id><published>2003-12-27T04:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-27T04:56:46.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If given the chance...I watched a movie tonight that intrigued me.  It wasn't a brilliant piece of work but it was enjoyable.  The name of the film was Tuck Everlasting.  It is a remake of an older film that was based on a short story from the 1920's.  In the movie a family stops to drink at a natural spring and later find out, because of the water they drank they will never age again.  They </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107251899048092832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107251899048092832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107251899048092832' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107251803355842677</id><published>2003-12-27T04:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-27T04:40:49.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Lagging BloggMy Blogg server is lagging so I'm not sure if my posts are even going through.  I will post anyway.  I will carry on.  I will push forward in hope that both my readers are not disapointed.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107251803355842677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107251803355842677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107251803355842677' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107222776670008342</id><published>2003-12-23T20:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-23T20:03:02.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYNot what we give, but what we share,For the gift without the giver is bare.J.R. Lowell,Vision of Sir Launfal</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107222776670008342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107222776670008342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107222776670008342' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107222744948555344</id><published>2003-12-23T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-23T19:57:45.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The eve of the eve.Christmas is upon us.  Yes kiddies there is no hiding from it even if you actively disbelieve.  The "holiday season" has become so damn generic.  Chaunika wasn't originally a gift giving holiday it just adapted to such.  Ramadan isn't either and is only considered part of the "holiday season" to be politically correct.  Ramadan falls on the ninth month of the Muslim calendar,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107222744948555344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107222744948555344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107222744948555344' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107214800971577239</id><published>2003-12-22T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-22T21:53:44.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>More Sight than SoundA fellow blogger and observationist has some wonderful musings any good study of humanity needs read.  Fausts blogg delves into many aspects of humanity, not just the good but also, and more importantly, the indifferent.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107214800971577239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107214800971577239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107214800971577239' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107213926915433394</id><published>2003-12-22T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-22T21:55:00.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYHealth is not a condition of matter, but of Mind; nor can the material senses bear reliable testimony on the subject of health.Mary Baker Eddy,Science and Health</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107213926915433394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107213926915433394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107213926915433394' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107213891691983626</id><published>2003-12-22T19:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-22T19:22:12.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sweeter Than Ambrosia!From a little bean comes the most divine of nectars, coffee!  On the morning after the seventh day, the day of rest, God woke up tired, sore and groggy.  He said let me make something to warm my bones, titillate my taste buds and awaken my spirit.  This was done and coffee appeared.  All was good and right with the world.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107213891691983626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107213891691983626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_21_archive.html#107213891691983626' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107191308952805963</id><published>2003-12-20T04:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-20T04:38:24.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYI have studied now PhilosophyAnd Jurisprudence, MedicineAnd even, alas, TheologyFrom end to end with labor keen;And here, poor fool, with all my loreI stand no wiser than before.Goethe,Faust</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107191308952805963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107191308952805963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107191308952805963' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107191273471459671</id><published>2003-12-20T04:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-20T04:32:29.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Computer Go Poo Poo!I realized that I know next to nothing about a machine I use more than any other in my home, my computer.  I have spent two days trying to fix a problem I really didn't know what was even causing the "glitch" but I was trying to fix it.  Turns out I had one Monster of a virus.  I only found this out after I had to reformat my hard drive and start from scratch.  I'm not sure </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107191273471459671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107191273471459671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107191273471459671' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107173203656640692</id><published>2003-12-18T02:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-18T02:20:50.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYTo be ignorant of one's ignorance is the malady of the ignorant.A.B. Alcott,Table Talk</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107173203656640692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107173203656640692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107173203656640692' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107173188078291340</id><published>2003-12-18T02:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-18T02:18:15.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why Are Stupid People Breeding?If Darwin was right about everything shouldn't at this point in the chain of human evolution stupid people be sterile?  If survival of the fittest is all it's cracked up to be why are the people who are bereft of any rational thought multiplying at alarming speeds?You might say "stupid is as stupid does."  If you did all I could hope for is a fast moving buss </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107173188078291340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107173188078291340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107173188078291340' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107156527359369604</id><published>2003-12-16T04:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-16T04:01:27.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>IDIOT OF THE DAYThe idiot of the day is who ever decided to leave out a simple geometrical principle (The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.  Not a series of 45 degree curves) of the book that engineers use to design roads in Suburban Georgia.Cheers Dumbass!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107156527359369604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107156527359369604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107156527359369604' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107156388652788376</id><published>2003-12-16T03:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-16T03:40:56.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYA smart man learns from his mistakes,A successful man learns from others mistakes.Dick Ponderous,To a 17 year old girl who decided sleeping with someone who is old enough to be her father was a good idea.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107156388652788376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107156388652788376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107156388652788376' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107146940391431658</id><published>2003-12-15T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-15T01:23:37.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYIt was a dream of perfect bliss,Too beautiful to last.T.H. Bayly,It Was a Dream</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107146940391431658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107146940391431658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107146940391431658' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107146909092971700</id><published>2003-12-15T01:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-15T01:20:04.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The art of ...First you need a nice tan foundation.  You must gently tilt the smooth, tan wetness just slightly.  Then you slowly ease the thick "meat" into its foundation  Little by little, if you go too fast it will turn into a big mess and you won't enjoy it.  Gently slide it in until the head is creamy.  When the thick head is almost ready to overflow you stop, wait for it to go down some </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107146909092971700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107146909092971700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107146909092971700' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107139915896894566</id><published>2003-12-14T05:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-14T05:52:52.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYNothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan;For we are born in others pain,And parish in our own.Francis Thompson,Daisy</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107139915896894566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107139915896894566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107139915896894566' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107139888089218917</id><published>2003-12-14T05:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-14T06:08:27.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Little Dick and the Twins have been injured!Little Dick and the twins were injured tonight.  They're feeling better now and I may soon be able to sleep.  It was a slow night behind the bar and all in all it went well.  That is of coarse until my testicles were most cruely abused!  I have said in the past that I do not envy women, they must endure pain I will never know like cramps and child </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107139888089218917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107139888089218917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_14_archive.html#107139888089218917' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107130747731492595</id><published>2003-12-13T04:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-13T04:24:50.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYEven I like Dick!Ellen Degeneres,T.V. Commercial for Dick Chips brand potato chips</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107130747731492595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107130747731492595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107130747731492595' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107130723000998137</id><published>2003-12-13T04:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-13T04:22:50.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have no chance hooking up with a lesbian.A case of the wrong equipment!While pouring cups of happiness for my bar customers tonight I had some out of town visitors.  Four really cute girls from the Czech Republic.  They ordered drinks and I chatted them up a bit then I noticed they were actually double dating!  Damn, damn, damn!  Just my luck lesbians!I'm not really into the whole lesbian </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107130723000998137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107130723000998137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107130723000998137' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107112195055347885</id><published>2003-12-11T00:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T00:52:42.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYIf you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you.  That is the principal difference between a dog and a man.Mark Twain,Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calender</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107112195055347885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107112195055347885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107112195055347885' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107112170058325020</id><published>2003-12-11T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-11T00:48:32.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A New Addition to My ZooI saved a old dog from the pound on Monday.  I'm not a saint I just saw an easy way to get a dog and help someone out in the process.  See one of my managers needed to get rid of the dog because of his wifes allergies and I happened to be looking for one, dog not wife.  It's name is Snickers, she is a 13 year old lab husky mix.  I like her, she's mild mannered, smart </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107112170058325020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107112170058325020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107112170058325020' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6173526.post-107103383809595416</id><published>2003-12-10T00:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-10T00:24:10.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUOTE OF THE DAYOnce to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,In strife of Truth and Falsehood, for the good or evil side.J.R. Lowell,The Present Crisis</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107103383809595416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6173526/posts/default/107103383809595416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dickingaround.blogspot.com/2003_12_07_archive.html#107103383809595416' title=''/><author><name>Dick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07547404120774602409</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
