<?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-14246854</id><updated>2011-09-21T16:05:27.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Endless Rant</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a blog dedicated to commentary on things happening in the world that beg for my thoughts</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-114415240267091236</id><published>2006-04-04T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T05:06:42.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ORIGINAL THOUGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my topic for this blog, yes original thought. as a bright young 22 year old it is said that i am at my peak of original thought and thus creativity. others may choose to believe this, or seek to disprove it. my opinion on the matter is simple. it might appear as though we all reach an age where we accept the world around us and stop trying to challenge it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we all seem to reach a point where we settle for what is around us, in terms of resources, to express our creativity. for instance having the money and time to bring out these thoughts. some would say a true artist wouldn't need much, but i doubt we all know the person who created the most beautiful popsicle sculpture, whereas we all remember who painted the mona lisa. my point is if the means to achieve aren't there we usually give up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sister used to paint. she studied art, its concepts, techniques, and styles. there came a point where she stopped and picked up a brief case with the rest of her graduating class and left art behind. i wrote and recorded music during school until the time came when i had to join the work force. i have only recorded one song in the past year as a result. as i'm writing this it makes me a little depressed. i still have the ideas creativity inside. i can feel it periodically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take time after you have read this and ask yourself what has gotten in your way of your creativity and for what reason. ask yourself if you are better, or worse because of it. i know that i now have a goal to get back in touch with my original thought and encourage you to do the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-114415240267091236?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/114415240267091236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=114415240267091236&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/114415240267091236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/114415240267091236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2006/04/original-thought-this-is-my-topic-for.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-114284697337045036</id><published>2006-03-20T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T01:29:33.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOOD NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally extremly bored and lonely, so quess what that means? I get to write on my blog again!!!!! I know you all didn't know what to do with yourselves during my absence, but never fear, for I have returned!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now that's out of the way. I have determined I have nothing to say. So instead I am going to insert a picture and hope people still check this website and write a comment on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-114284697337045036?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/114284697337045036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=114284697337045036&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/114284697337045036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/114284697337045036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2006/03/good-news-im-finally-extremly-bored.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-113159328212325397</id><published>2005-11-09T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T19:28:02.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HAS THIS HAPPENED TO YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past two days I've received brief phone calls from people that believed they had dialed, or selected (for those cell phone users) another number other than my own. The funny part is it takes them about an average of 15 seconds to say "Wait a minute, is this John?" to which I respond, "Yeah, who'd you think it was?" The best part is at that moment I discovered the context of what they were saying before they realized it was me. So far nothing was bad, nor had anything to even do with me, but it opens the door to something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what we tell each other isn't exactly what we tell someone else. In short we don't necessarily lie, but rather conform the truth towards our audience. I'm sure you've seen it, or done it before. You know, where you tell the guys you met a very attractive girl today and you could tell she was flirting, but when you mention it to your current love interest you just say you met some girl as if it was worth mentioning, but not really worth bragging about (not that I've ever done that darlin, just giving an example). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the best example I could give was the time my friend got a phone call from a girl he was dating (not seriously) and she had told him she was looking forward to going on their date this Friday. He said, "I thought we were going out on Saturday", she said no and that she had some function on Saturday. He replied, "I thought you knew I couldn't go out on Friday." Then she says in a questioning voice, "Mike?" I laughed when he told me what he said, "It was nice getting to know you, I hope you have a great date on Friday." Then promptly deleted her number from his phone and his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe things happen for reasons. Mistakes usually happen with good reason. Anyway, I just wanted to post something since I've been the worst Blog writer lately. Take care my brothas and sistas. Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-113159328212325397?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/113159328212325397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=113159328212325397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/113159328212325397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/113159328212325397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/11/has-this-happened-to-you-over-past-two.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112672098542485272</id><published>2005-09-14T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T11:03:06.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/cg-pic1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/cg-pic1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEING CHEESY IS OK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of us these days have a significant other this topic has become more and more of something worth mentioning. I'm sure at one point, whether or not you were joking or being serious, you said something to your significant other that came out really cheesy while trying to be romantic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm standing up and saying don't be ashamed of your comment! &lt;br /&gt;Don't try and back track and say something else! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you said was probably how you felt at the time and that doesn't need to be fixed. We all do it and feel stupid afterwards, but if your significant other is worth a damn they will see past the cheese and see the real meaning behind your words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a typical guy I have a little bit being poetic and often find myself saying things that resemble a line I heard in a movie. Other guys use song lyrics. I'm no poet, in fact I'm probably the furthest from it. Women have an easier time expressing themselves than we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gentlemen, this is ok! In fact this is a good thing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A women who isn't afraid to show their emotion means she trusts you with those emotions. I know sometimes it can be hard to accept those emotions, especially during football season, but listening will go a long way when she's watching the E! channel and you are in the mood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though your significant other is using a cheesy line to express their feelings to you, accept it for the meaning behind it and give them a kiss in response. No other action is needed. Bring on the cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112672098542485272?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112672098542485272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112672098542485272&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112672098542485272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112672098542485272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/09/being-cheesy-is-ok-as-many-of-us-these.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112666120755871812</id><published>2005-09-13T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T18:26:47.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/Just_Ridiculous_96185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/400/Just_Ridiculous_96185.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU GUYS KNOW THE DEAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me your captions&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112666120755871812?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112666120755871812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112666120755871812&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112666120755871812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112666120755871812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/09/you-guys-know-deal-give-me-your.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112653892157831742</id><published>2005-09-12T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T18:12:44.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>IT IS TRUE, WE DID SOME REALLY LAME STUFF IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you can recall at least one point in your six years of elementary school when it came time for all the students to participate in a "class show." You know, it usually entails some really lame choreography and singing. The reason I'm bringing this up is because it has recently dawned on me how incredibly stupid and retarded it all was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was usually a theme of some sort such as uniting the world's children and spreading love for the environment. The show usually was performed for the entire school and ended with a joint singalong to "We are the world." As a kid you know it's not exactly cool, but since everybody is doing it you feel like its ok somehow. It was aids (for those of you who know what I mean). Looking back I feel as though it ranks upon some of the lamest things I have ever done. The others were usually following a whole lot of drinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm calling for your memories on this subject to prove that there is a huge lame conspiracy composed by evil teachers to make even the coolest of kids act retarded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112653892157831742?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112653892157831742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112653892157831742&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112653892157831742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112653892157831742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/09/it-is-true-we-did-some-really-lame.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112465282048997897</id><published>2005-08-21T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T12:33:40.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whimp, whimp a nasty whimp!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i sit and watch the film Saving Silverman I'm reminded of how many times in my life I have seen men pussy whipped. I have at one point been there too, so I can't judge too harshly, oh wait, yeah I can! I'm sorry, but how many times have you gone to blockbuster and seen the helpless guy following his girlfriend around the store agreeing on every chic flic she picks up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3, or 4 months ago I was hanging out drinking with the usual crowd at the usual location and a couple comes in who apparently had a friend drinking with us. It was almost painful to see the events of the night unfold. This guy couldn't take a piss without asking this girl for permission. I tried offering him a beer and inviting him without the girlfriend over to play a drinking game, but he said no thanks and proceeded to give her a foot massage. A FOOT MASSAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At a fucking kick back!!!! I'm sorry, but what the fuck happend to the testosterone level in this guy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore I propose an event if any of our guy friends find themselves in this position. As his fellow friends it is our duty to steal him away from the clutches of this pit of despair and plan the following events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Get him extremely drunk&lt;br /&gt;2. Find some way to put breasts in his face (not his girlfriend's)&lt;br /&gt;3. Feed him a big hamburger to ease the drunk munchies&lt;br /&gt;4. Get him extremely drunk again&lt;br /&gt;5. Punch him as hard as you can in his right eye (allow him to defend himself too)&lt;br /&gt;6. Help him puke if he needs do, or subdue him if needed&lt;br /&gt;7. Take plenty of pictures of the entire night&lt;br /&gt;8. Display the pictures at a social event where his girlfriend is attending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you follow these steps I will guarantee you things will change for the better. He will finally wake up and realize life does not start and stop at her whim. If not, give me a call. Chances are you fucked something off. Either way it should be a good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112465282048997897?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112465282048997897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112465282048997897&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112465282048997897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112465282048997897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/whimp-whimp-nasty-whimp-as-i-sit-and.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112360937027418613</id><published>2005-08-09T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T12:12:17.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I salute you, person who works out in shopping areas........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting at a coffee shop in Seattle (I'll let you guess which one) that was a part of an enormous shopping "village" this past Sunday. It was a nice day so I decided to sit outside. While drinking my over priced coffee I glanced up at a woman heading my direction. Her arms were moving with a stern purpose, but she was not jogging, she was "speed walking." As she zoomed past me going a fierce 3mph I thought of her mental process in choosing this "village" shopping center as the best place to get her workout. Not long after that I saw a guy just kind of running through the same area without his shirt on. I bet it made all the ladies day to see that hairy man run past with his cool sunglasses and very short shorts. When the woman made her 3rd lap past me I decided to get up and leave and dedicate a blog entry to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all seen it in one form, or another. My favorite is the group of elderly women that do laps in shopping malls. Don't get me wrong, I fully endorse people exercising for a healthier life. Especially in our society. I just think some people should stay fully clothed and stay away from areas where we all eat, drink, and shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the fun part. Here's my list of adjectives/characteristics of these fortunate few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;attention whores, way too comfortable with their bodies, usually like short/small/tight clothing, thinks less clothing is better, equates public sweating to flirting, sometimes brings a shirt just so they can let it hang from their shorts (in an effort to say "I'm working out so hard and I didn't have a choice, but to take off my shirt because I ran so far and I'm so hot"), the guys who completely shave their chest, they think wearing a hat backwards is somehow "cooler," they have a subscription to either women's health or men's health, they always drink orange juice in the morning, they have a subscription to both ikea and crate &amp;amp; barrel catalogs, they only shop at the gap, they can't be seen without sunglasses during the day, they jog and run in place at a traffic lights, they think they look good in spandex (this ain't true for anybody unless you are a centerfold), arrogant, yuppie, wannabe yuppie, prefer to meet the opposite sex at clubs and the gym, and finally they are the type that will go to Starbucks right after completing their workout.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112360937027418613?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112360937027418613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112360937027418613&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112360937027418613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112360937027418613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-salute-you-person-who-works-out-in.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112310862846013018</id><published>2005-08-03T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T10:27:40.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Winner is C-Dizzle, with his comment "Where's Waldo?" The runner up is Monica with her comment, "Ah, So you've seen the movie a day without a Mexican too." In a strong third place is Mr. Bass with "bags kitchen one week before paddle sig time." Thanks for playing, until next time..............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/6funnypics.dk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/6funnypics.dk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU KNOW THE GAME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a caption and I'll announce the winner shortly thereafter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112310862846013018?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112310862846013018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112310862846013018&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112310862846013018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112310862846013018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/winner-is-c-dizzle-with-his-comment.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112300974772822469</id><published>2005-08-02T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T15:40:17.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/creative858.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/creative858.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I salute you, tabloid subscriber person.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of us have seen just about everytime we go anywhere, tabloids are everywhere. These media geniuses have survived and thrived since the days of yellow journalism and muckracking. Today I went to a gas station and caught a glimpse of the tabloids and read the usual headlines. There is always one headline about some celebrity doing something (or someone). This made me wonder about the kind of people who actually subscribe to these magazines. I say subscribe because it dawned on me that I would be more embarrassed to buy it in public than receive it in the mail (it also takes less effort to get it out of your mailbox).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but try and imagine the type of person who would have such an interest in a tabloid subscription. I'm going to go ahead and throw out some adjectives/characteristics and you guys can either add to the list, or debate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overweight, lonely, has many cats, lives in a hot climate, lives in a trailer, wears a one piece garment of some type (maybe a jumper, or one piece dress), predominately female, might have a small dog of some type, watches Oprah everyday, thinks Jerry Springer should be President, thinks Judge Judy should be on the Supreme Court, often calls Ms. Cleo, wears large bifocal glasses, eats a bowl of Special K with a cup of sugar and chocolate syrup, thinks perfume is best worn on every inch of their body, at least at one point had a mullet, shops solely at the monster that is Wal-Mart, has an entire drawer (in their kitchen and work desk) devoted to chocolate, puts the trash bags by the front door instead of taking them to the dumpster, thinks day time TV is better than prime time TV, their highlight of the day is when they can flip between Entertainment Tonight and Access, and finally drinks slimfast while eating a bucket of fried chicken because the label says you can drink it with anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112300974772822469?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112300974772822469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112300974772822469&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112300974772822469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112300974772822469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-salute-you-tabloid-subscriber-person.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112274356423911697</id><published>2005-07-30T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T10:12:44.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/sun.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/sun.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ah the Sun......&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just about everyday after I get off work I take a little time to lay out in the sun (usually after my gym time). Its pretty funny when you think about it. I can be such a redneck. Ok, picture this, a white man sitting/laying in the back bed of his truck with a pillow and a horrible farmers tan trying to even out the ridiculous contrasts of color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is I never knew how relaxing it really is. Usually I look in my cell phone and find someone to call. Lately it has been a whole lot of people I haven't talked to in a long time. It has been great reconnecting with people. This routine of mine has been going on for a couple of weeks and to my astonishment and first sunburn, I'm evening out! This white boy is definitely a darker shade of white. Before you reply with something like, "You'll get skin cancer!" trust in the fact that there are worse things in the world I would have a more likely chance of dying from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you plan on trying it out for yourself I recommend you put on a little Bob Marley, or Jack Johnson. If neither one of those are available your cell phone is a great alternative, plus keeping in contact with friends is always a good idea. Enjoy the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112274356423911697?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112274356423911697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112274356423911697&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112274356423911697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112274356423911697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/ah-sun.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112221933348358387</id><published>2005-07-24T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T08:38:35.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/aedes1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/aedes1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The mosquito's of Death!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began with a group of friends having a friendly barbecue on the back of there pickup truck around 7:30pm. Dusk was approaching and the smell of fresh beef was in the air. Seven heartbeats in a remote location provided way too much temptation for these raiders of the sky. As everybody was enjoying their food, drink and each other's company the quite storm of death began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the sky these foul creatures came attacking without mercy, or remorse. They hovered around each target taking their fill of blood, but they fought back! Amongst the endless terrifying screams and slapping noises someone shouted, "Ah ha, Take that!" but the attack didn't stop regardless of the casualties the small terrors sustained. The seven started to collect the dead mosquito bodies in a cup to mark as a warning sign to the rest, but they still kept coming. Numbers, the endless amount of warriors they had was staggering. The seven didn't know what else to do, but abandon this fight. Everything was loaded up safely into the truck and the tires skidded on the hard dirt trail. The mosquito's had won, but from this day on the war will continue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a true story that recently happend, dramatically written of course for your pleasure. Sorry, I'm kind of bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112221933348358387?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112221933348358387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112221933348358387&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112221933348358387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112221933348358387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/mosquitos-of-death-it-all-began-with.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112189312119465400</id><published>2005-07-20T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T13:58:41.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This Week's Salute&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I would like to salute the individual that created the Internet. He (or she, to prove that I'm not sexist) has expanded my horizons and means of communication. The ability to receive information quickly and from a multitude of sources has changed our society forever. If it was Al Gore, he should receive a golden keyboard, or at least a cheasy placque. Thank you Internet creator person for keeping me entertained as well as informed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112189312119465400?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112189312119465400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112189312119465400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112189312119465400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112189312119465400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/this-weeks-salute-this-week-i-would.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112172546314068889</id><published>2005-07-18T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T08:13:43.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vince is the winner!!!!!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right folks Vince has won my pointless contest with his caption, "Bring me my diapers, there is a great disturbance in the Force." Due to overwhelming participation I will consider doing this again. Than you Mr.  Bass for being the only other person besides myself to write something. It was a close race between the two of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/R207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/R207.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this entry I'm posting this picture meant for all of you to create your own caption. Yes I stole this idea from a friend. However, good ideas need to be spread so here it is. Have fun with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112172546314068889?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112172546314068889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112172546314068889&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112172546314068889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112172546314068889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/vince-is-winner-yes-thats-right-folks.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112161030564462712</id><published>2005-07-17T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T10:30:47.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stupidity is inherent in humans&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single day I witness, or hear about an act of stupidity. What gets me the most is when you give someone specific instructions to do something and they interpret that as "blah, blah, blah, I'm going to do it my way." Usually I just sit back and watch them do it their way and mess up. We humans learn better when we base our actions on experience. For example Junior knows the stove is hot because he already burned his fucking finger on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted I am not setting myself apart from the human species. I am merely making a point that we far to often ignore stupidity is inherent in humans. I've told my friends a million times to have a desingated driver. I've told them even after their first DUI/DWI. I've sat back and watched my friends date people (as they watched me) that treated them like garbage and they would keep going back to them. I have recently been carried out of a bar because I apparently felt I could drink anything and everything (not the first time either).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does seem that a lot of the time stupid behavior is performed for mere enjoyment. That's why when I see this behavior I just sit back and relax and enjoy the show. My friends in Austin know exactly what I'm talking about (darth mahl trophy/mega man trophy). Fireworks come to mind when I think of stupid behavior. I know I've almost burned my hand off because I was being stupid with fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supposedly we learn from our mistakes. Supposedly we only watch our friends date the wrong person a few times. Hopefully our friends, or those around us accept our advice, or at least commentary on the stupid situations that arise. However, I must maintain my position that regardless of what we (the observers) try to do, human's will ultimately make up their own damn minds and stupid decisions will follow. So sit back and enjoy the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112161030564462712?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112161030564462712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112161030564462712&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112161030564462712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112161030564462712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/stupidity-is-inherent-in-humans-every.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112152850004969715</id><published>2005-07-16T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T10:52:38.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coffee, mmmmmmmm, Coffee.........&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each morning I wake up I follow a routine just as so many people in this world do. Lately I've noticed some of the little things I do out of this routine. Usually around 7am I'm arriving at work and usually check email. Somewhere between then and 8am I reach out for my morning addiction, a cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get up and head on over to the break room where I'm joined by my coworkers and wait for the machine to finish doing its magic. As I'm standing there I begin to realize how much like rats in a scientific experiment we are. You know, the kind where the rats all hang around the food machine that drops a food pellet when the they press a button. The thought catches me, but it is more than that because I further realize how it is our addiction to this substance that has brought upon this gathering. Addiction, strong word huh? The sad thing is this isn't a rare event in our society. It happens in offices all over the world, which is why I believe it is important enough for me to make a comment and why I believe you should feel free to also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today our intern made the coffee. Today we learned the intern can't make coffee and therefore never will again. However, I believe she was smart, if she made it well, we'd ask her to make it everyday. Good for her. I've been at the bottom of the food chain and remember those little tricks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember folks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee=Caffeine&lt;br /&gt;Caffeine=Addiction&lt;br /&gt;Addiction=Happiness!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112152850004969715?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112152850004969715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112152850004969715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112152850004969715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112152850004969715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/coffee-mmmmmmmm-coffee.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112119394448613182</id><published>2005-07-12T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T11:45:44.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/SO01938_.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/320/SO01938_.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you my friends&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my birthday and last night my coworkers took me out. I have never had people buy me so many drinks at once. I did make the mistake of saying, "I'm from Texas damit, I'll drink anything you put in front of me." Famous last words as they physically carried me out of the bar because I had lost the ability to walk, while allowing me to yell "I can drink more damit, I'm LT bitches! Let me back in I can drink more!" You are all good hearted people and I thank you for the drinks, putting up with me while drunk and overall your friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who couldn't be there this time, no worries, you have all been there for me in the past and for that I thank you too. Your LT was a champ last night. I drank to the standards of my brothers and then some. You were all missed. I lost count of my shots after 15 rolled around, well actually I kind of lost count of everything after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great birthday, all of you bastards rule, thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112119394448613182?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112119394448613182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112119394448613182&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112119394448613182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112119394448613182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/thank-you-my-friends-yesterday-was-my.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112102546884433157</id><published>2005-07-10T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T12:57:48.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/amber.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/400/amber.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Face that Doesn't Lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at the bar a couple of weeks ago and we decided to try a pitcher of something we haven't had before. We looked at what was on tap and decided we'd go with "Mac &amp;amp; Jacks African Amber Ale." We had already been drinking our fair share number of Miller Lite Pitchers and were feeling a little bit toasty, so we each poured a glass of this new Amber Ale and continued with our drinking game. The first person to try it was sitting directly across from me and will remain anonymous, but the face he made was unmistakable. It looked like he had just had a mouthful of baboon shit mixed with straight ass juice from a lion. From that moment on I wasn't sure whether, or not I should take a drink, but just like the person who takes a deep breath in when somebody says they farted to find out if it stinks, I tried it. I ended up making the exact face as my padre. The fun didn't stop there however, our other partner in crime had to have his taste test. The exact same face followed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set the pitcher aside and continued playing until a few other people joined us. The asked if they could try it and we were too drunk to inform them of the trouble they were heading into. The ass face came out as they took a huge gulp. We then stood up, pointed, and laughed like drunken buffoons. It was quite an experience that I will hopefully never relive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rating scale:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name: 5/10&lt;br /&gt;Appearance: 7/10&lt;br /&gt;Taste: -1/10&lt;br /&gt;Entertainment: 10/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112102546884433157?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112102546884433157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112102546884433157&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112102546884433157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112102546884433157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/face-that-doesnt-lie-i-was-at-bar.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112102099074675346</id><published>2005-07-10T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T11:43:10.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/1600/highway.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4636/1283/200/highway.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Speed UP!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is dedicated to all those weak ass drivers who don't know how to accelerate getting on the highway. I'm fucking sick of it! When you enter a road where the speed limit is 60mph and you have 200 yards to reach that speed, don't be a wuss and go 45mph while begging people to let you on the highway. Instead, step up to the plate, grow a pair and PUSH DOWN HARDER ON THE PEDAL! I realize this is a small petty thing to be commenting on, but it is just one of my petpeves and it is something that needed to be said. Feel free to tell me if I'm just anal, or crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112102099074675346?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112102099074675346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112102099074675346&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112102099074675346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112102099074675346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/speed-up-this-post-is-dedicated-to-all.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112085593000658958</id><published>2005-07-08T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T08:19:31.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My addiction to The West Wing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true, everyday after I get off work I spend at least two hours of my life watching my season two DVD set of The West Wing. The funny thing is I'm not a Democrat, nor do I ever plan on being one. I could say the same thing about being a Republican, but I do have more tendencies to lean to the right. However, I am dead set on remaining somewhere in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this show is simply amazing. I find myself helplessly feeling more "patriotic" with every episode. The steady flow of dialogue shifts quickly from topic to topic and it is easy to miss something, but never fear, whatever is missed is explained again somewhere down the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The characters are all neurotic, emotional and witty. Not to mention extremely liberal, but I take it in strides and sit back with a protein bar and focus on the many debates between both sides on the issues at hand. I have to thank my boy Adrian Macias for this addiction, oh and my employer. If it weren't for Adrian letting me borrow the first season and my employer giving me more money than I know what to do with I wouldn't have anything to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this blog I expect people to simply say "dude, get a life," either that or reply with some show addiction of their own. I know a lot of you have them. If not then I give you all the freedom to make jokes at my expense. enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112085593000658958?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112085593000658958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112085593000658958&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112085593000658958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112085593000658958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-addiction-to-west-wing-it-is-true.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112069080067115432</id><published>2005-07-06T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T16:00:00.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;People who don't live in Texas hate Texas and they have NO REASON TO.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who have rarely left the greatest state in the union, you might have witnessed the extreme hatred of Texas. Doing what I do for a living I have the opportunity to work with people from all over the greatest country in the world. Everybody has opinions, but for some strange reason they all share the same one about Texas. I can't tell you how many times I've had some one say "The only thing in Texas is steers and queers." First of all before you speak, think. Secondly, before you think realize that you are a punk ass bitch who doesn't have the right to make such a comment in my glorius presence. The next person to say this is getting a Texas sized boot up their ass! I've had it. God Bless Texas! Hook'em horns!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112069080067115432?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112069080067115432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112069080067115432&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112069080067115432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112069080067115432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/people-who-dont-live-in-texas-hate.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14246854.post-112066921449493355</id><published>2005-07-06T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T12:30:32.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;dude why?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so how many times do you look at what's going on in the news and around you and just ask yourself, dude why? it seems to me i can find at least one thing a day that puts me on the edge. today is no exception. the topic for this entry is the murdering of a teenager for his ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ipod's are amazing, they're great. i even have a ipod shuffle and i love it, but how is it possible to kill another human being for one. i can remember when i was a kid i heard about people being shot for their nike air jordans, or reebok pumps ( &lt;a href="http://sneakers.pair.com/c-bad.htm"&gt;http://sneakers.pair.com/c-bad.htm&lt;/a&gt;) and just wondering if anybody was going to pick a fight with me for my L.A. Gear pumps. i now realize i was poor and nobody wanted my shoes, but still it got my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i would do for 2 minutes to beat the shit out of these stupid kids. i men honestly this type of stupidity deserves an ass whooping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14246854-112066921449493355?l=thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112066921449493355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14246854&amp;postID=112066921449493355&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112066921449493355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14246854/posts/default/112066921449493355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsyoudontsayoutloud.blogspot.com/2005/07/dude-why-so-how-many-times-do-you-look.html' title=''/><author><name>John Landry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H8jF9zNTXxQ/TGgGo9Bq_fI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ujb1UCHfySE/S220/DSC_0074(2).jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
