<?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-7337792</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:23:25.388-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tig.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>116</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-115665951272090985</id><published>2006-08-27T01:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T01:18:32.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really don't post in this journal too often. If you want to read my stuff (which you probably don't), I'm over at http://joselynsheart.livejournal.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-115665951272090985?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/115665951272090985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=115665951272090985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/115665951272090985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/115665951272090985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-really-dont-post-in-this-journal-too.html' title=''/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-114783145955219047</id><published>2006-05-16T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T21:04:57.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Plug</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://orlabossa.deviantart.com"&gt;http://www.orlabossa.deviantart.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VISIT IT! Because I R0X0RS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-114783145955219047?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/114783145955219047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=114783145955219047' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114783145955219047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114783145955219047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/05/quick-plug.html' title='Quick Plug'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-114522854871542184</id><published>2006-04-16T17:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T18:02:28.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-singing- Madame Gaston...his little wife...</title><content type='html'>Nothing much to say, really. I've just noticed that I haven't updated my blog in a while (this through having a new &lt;a href="http://orlabossa.livejournal.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; for the Summer of '97 RP that I've mentioned below. I'm Pansy and...as I said...JOIN IT! NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW! -clears throat- Huzzah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney World was fabulous. Jamie met Ariel. Cried like a little girl. And got a free sticker and postcard (WEE!). She was so PRETTY! She called me 'Starfish' and complimented my hair and...-stops self- Dear Lord, I'm insane, I tell you! INSANE! But she was adorable. Truly. Dear Lord, I'm tearing up. -sniffle- ARIEL! -collapses- Ah'm uber dramatic today, eh? -dies- Let's see how many slang words I can fit into a sentence. Let us review:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah'm" = The Bag Enders (ARSE!)&lt;br /&gt;"Uber" = Random internet slang&lt;br /&gt;"Dramatic" = Just...I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;"Today" = See above&lt;br /&gt;"," = This is getting ridiculous&lt;br /&gt;"Eh?" = Jamie's Canadianese!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I haven't insulted the French. STINKY CHEESE EATERS! -dies- I can insult them because I am French. And Irish. And German. And English. And Welsh. And Dutch. And Canadian (WOO HOO, eh?). And other random things. Huzzah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where the hell are all these 'huzzah's coming from lately? I'M TURNING INTO A PIRATE. Explains the hat from Disney World (muy hearts) and the name "Joselyn the Pirate Queen". Heh. Pirates. Silly rabbit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah'm a wee bit hyper. Feel like randomly quoting Eddie Izzard "'Ello Sue! I've got legs! D'you like bread? Well I've got a French loaf!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-dies- The Izzard is god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like Paul McCartney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And John Lennon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Freddie Mercury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Steven Tyler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Joe Perry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And David Bowie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Lord I can go on for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY FINGERS ARE TYPING AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA! Bas'sard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I miss the Bag Enders. I must go look them up. Their third episode is my favorite. Speaking of which, they played House of Pain's "Jump Around" at Prom. I about died laughing. What's next? The Lumberjack Song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AAAAAAAAAH'M a Lumberjack and ah'm okay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sleep all night and I work all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[/crack!post]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-114522854871542184?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/114522854871542184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=114522854871542184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114522854871542184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114522854871542184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/04/singing-madame-gastonhis-little-wife.html' title='-singing- Madame Gaston...his little wife...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-114343427911776585</id><published>2006-03-26T21:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T22:38:11.253-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Quiz Alert!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica;font-size:85%;"  &gt; A - Accent: Ze French! -dies- No...I'm an odd mixture of Northern and Southern American. -big grin-&lt;br /&gt;B - Breast size: -looks down- Large. And oddly shaped.&lt;br /&gt;C - Chore you hate: Dishes. I...hate dishes.&lt;br /&gt;D - Dad's name: Doug.&lt;br /&gt;E - Essential make-up item: Er...lip balm?&lt;br /&gt;F - Favourite perfume: Inquisitive! It's a knock off of Britney Spears' Curious...but it smells better.&lt;br /&gt;G - Gold or silver: Both! They both look fabulous on me. -dramatic expression-&lt;br /&gt;H - Hometown: If by hometown you mean birthplace, Gainesville, Florida.&lt;br /&gt;I - Insomnia: When ah'm hyper.&lt;br /&gt;J - Job title: Resident Nerd and Odd Person. And Pervert. And Sexpert.&lt;br /&gt;K - Kids: If by children you mean my baby Strider. And by Strider, I mean my truck.&lt;br /&gt;L - Living arrangements: Ah live with me mom.&lt;br /&gt;M - Mum's birthplace: California...someplace north of Sacramento. Can't...remember...name!&lt;br /&gt;N - Number of pets you've had: Too many to count, love.&lt;br /&gt;O - Overnight hospital stays: -pauses- None. Ha! TAKE THAT GRAVITY!&lt;br /&gt;P - Phobia: Being surrounded by people (-hyperventilates-), death, and rejection. And falling -glares at the Tower of Terror-&lt;br /&gt;R - Religious affiliation:  Lutheran.&lt;br /&gt;S - Siblings: Three sisters. All live with daddy.&lt;br /&gt;T - Time you wake up: 7...er...I mean 6! Yeah...6!&lt;br /&gt;U - Unnatural hair colors you've worn: -counts- Blonde, blue, pink, and red. Thank you. -loves her brunette self-&lt;br /&gt;V - Vegetable you refuse to eat: Cooked spinach -makes a face-&lt;br /&gt;W - Worst habit: Over analyzing things.&lt;br /&gt;X - X-rays you've had: Body  X-ray. Boo yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Y - Yummy foods you make: Eggs? Macaroni and Tuna? Anything that just pops into my head? -natural cook-ness-&lt;br /&gt;Z - Zodiac sign: Cancer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="" align="'center'"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;th colspan="2" style=""&gt;You by xforsakenxnxashamedx&lt;/th&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Describe Yourself&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;First Name&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Jamie&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Middle Name&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Lynn&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Last Name&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;HEOWIRULAKDFSJLIASDFIIASLKDFJLKAJLFKJALKSDJFLASDLFKJALSKDJFTALKJS;DFLKJS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Age&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;17&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Birthday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;June 24th&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Appearence&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Eye Color&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Hazel&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Hair Color&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dark Brown&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Skin Color&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Uber Pale (a.k.a. See Through or Glow In The Dark)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Height&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;5'8" -wants another inch of height-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Do You Think Your Appealing?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;-pauses- That's a deep question. Er. Personality wise, yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Do You Think Your Ugly?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Not particularly. Just not pretty.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;What Do Other People Think Of You?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Not attractive. In the least. -has no dates- -or a life-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Right Now Your...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Listening To&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;"Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claws" from the Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Watching&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;The computer screen&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Wearing&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mah pajamas&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Hearing&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;The TV in the other room (SNL)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Smelling&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;The heater&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Thinking About&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Disney World&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Talking To&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mother...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yelling At&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mother...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Wishing&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;I could be in Disney World&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Drinking&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Nothing, really&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Eating&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;I already ate, thankies&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Happy?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Feh...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Depressed?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;-nods wildly-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Inbetween?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;A little angry, I suppose&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Last Person You...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;IMed&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dedra&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Got Obsessed With&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;-pauses- Dominic Monaghan&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Loved&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;-mumbles-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Hugged&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mother dearest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Got Pissed Off At&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dedra/Ashley/Mother/Me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dreamt Of&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mr. Ward! AND NOT LIKE THAT!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Had A Crush On&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Aaron -blush-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Kissed&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;NOT APPLICABLE!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Do You/ Did You/ Have You&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Have A Crush?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, yes, and yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Have A BF/GF?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, yes, and yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Love Someone?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yes, yes, and yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Smoke?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and no.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Drink?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Do Drugs?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and no.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Play Any Instruments?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and no.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Want To Have Kids?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yes, yes, and yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dream Of Someone Special?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yes, yes, and uber-yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Think Of Someone Special?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yes, yes, and uber-yes.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ever Have Sex?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and with my hand.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ever Kissed Anyone?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and in my dreams.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ever Been Kissed&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, no, and see above.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ever Had A BF/GF?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;No, yes, and kill me now.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Know Somone That You Could Trust With Your Life?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Yes, yes, and I love mah mommy.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Have Any Best Friends?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Possibly, yes, and damn I'm angry.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Favorite&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Animal/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;I shall name them at once! LizardSnakeTigerLionCatDogSquirrelRabbitTurtle&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Food/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Mushroom Danielle! Mmm!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Genre/s Of Music&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Classic Rock, baby! WOO HOO!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Band/s Or Artist/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;The Beatles, Queen, ELO, CCR, and Aerosmith.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Shoes&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Flip Flops/Pumps&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Shampoo/ Conditioner&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Panteen Pro-V&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Movie/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;The Princess Bride&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Book/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ella Enchanted&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Ice Cream&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Chocolate&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Radio Station/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Bob 107.1 and Kool 95.1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Song/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;"I Hear You Everywhere" by Tanaka Rie and "Rockaria!" by ELO&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Album/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Strange Magic - ELO&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Number/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;7, 13, 49&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Letter/s&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;S E and X&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;I...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Hate&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;being dysfuctional&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Love&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;being happy&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Like&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;men. A lot.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Am Obsessed With&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;any and all of my fandoms (LotR, HP, Pokemon, Chobits, etc.)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Wonder&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;why no one finds me attractive&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Fear&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;dying alone&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Regret&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;not being more assertive&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Wish&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;that these next few days would go by and the week after next would last forever&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Want&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;to masturbate&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Miss&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;my dad&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Need&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;love -bad *N Sync song-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Think About&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;sex&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;Friends&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Loudest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Er...me?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Quietest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Connie or Amanda&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Appealing&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Connie&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Nicest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Amanda&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Meanest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Brophy&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Likely To Be A Prostitute&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Brophy -falls over laughing-&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Likely To Be A Mother&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Amy&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Likely To Suck At Being A Parent&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Not going to say&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Likely To Be Famous&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Most Reckless&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;None&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Dumbest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;None&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Coolest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;None&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Funniest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;I dunno...they're all funny&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Best&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;All&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;Tallest&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;-grins- Me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%27http://survgen.net/viewmeme.pl?meme=" 312="" style=""&gt;Take this Survgen survey!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="4" style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica;font-size:85%;"  &gt; [01]Name: Jamie&lt;br /&gt;[02]nicknames: Joselyn and Captain Jacket -snort-&lt;br /&gt;[03]city and state born in: Gainesville, Florida&lt;br /&gt;[04]state you live in now: -with a hick accent- Arkansas&lt;br /&gt;[05]birthdate: June 24th&lt;br /&gt;[06]astrological sign: Cancer&lt;br /&gt;[07]school: -paranoia-&lt;br /&gt;[08]hobbies: Reading, writing, talking, laughing, surfing the net, watching the tele, hanging out with friends, collecting action figures, going to the movies, and being randomly obsessive.&lt;br /&gt;[09]sports that you play/enjoy: Golf&lt;br /&gt;[10]height: 5'8" bitches&lt;br /&gt;[11]weight: -dies laughing- OH MY GOD! -can't breathe- -pain-&lt;br /&gt;[12]shoe size: 12 and proud.&lt;br /&gt;[13]right or lefty: BOTH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{What}&lt;br /&gt;1. What do you think of the way you look?: -wrinkles nose-&lt;br /&gt;2. What do you think about your attitude?: I have a pretty positive attitude. Am not PERKY, though -twitch-&lt;br /&gt;3. What do you think about life after death?: God I hope I go to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;4. What do you think about karma?: I believe in it and everyone deserves it.&lt;br /&gt;5. What do you think about love?: That it's the most wonderful thing on the earth.&lt;br /&gt;6. What do you think about fate?: Fate is pre-ordained.&lt;br /&gt;7. What do you think about yourself?: Feh.&lt;br /&gt;8. What do you tell yourself if times get hard?: I can DO IT! HUZZAH!&lt;br /&gt;9. What would you give your life for?: Family, friend, or my causes.&lt;br /&gt;10. What do you think about your first love?: We had such a dysfunctional relationship.&lt;br /&gt;11. What do you think about the first person that loved you?: I love my parents a lot. More than I can even put into words.&lt;br /&gt;12. What are you scared of?: Falling, being surrounded by people (-hyperventilate-), death, wasps, and rejection.&lt;br /&gt;13. What was the saddest moment of your life so far?: Can't name just one.&lt;br /&gt;14. What would life be without friends?: I don't really know...I wouldn't laugh as much. Prom would have sucked.&lt;br /&gt;15. Without family?: I. Would. Die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{The Dream Side}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Do you dream a lot at night?: -dies- Yeah&lt;br /&gt;[02]Do you dream in black and white, or color?: Color, babeh!&lt;br /&gt;[03]Do you remember any of your dreams?: The majority of them&lt;br /&gt;[04]Where is your dream make out spot?: -dies- I don't think I've ever kissed anyone in a dream. Damn romantic side!&lt;br /&gt;[05]What is your dream kiss like?: Are you even reading what I'm saying?&lt;br /&gt;[06]What is your dream job?: Rockstar/Actress/Director/Writer/Producer/Rich Person/Goddess/Pirate/Witch/Warrior/Critic/Sex Toy Inventor&lt;br /&gt;[07]Where is your dream house?: I don't know...India?&lt;br /&gt;[08]Where is your dream vacation?: DISNEY WORLD!&lt;br /&gt;[09]Do you believe that your dreams are a gateway to your soul?: Nope. Just to your subconscious. Because I have some pretty damn freaky dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Family}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Parents names: Tommi and Doug. They sound like a gay couple. I was born a slasher.&lt;br /&gt;[02]Do you live with both of them?: Nopers. Live with momma.&lt;br /&gt;[03]Any siblings? Three: Laney, Bailey, and Sydney.&lt;br /&gt;[04]Do you get along with your siblings...sibling(s)?: If we're not around each other over 24 hours!&lt;br /&gt;[05]Do you get along with your parents?: Very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Do You..}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Do you write in a journal or diary?: I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;[02]Do you keep an organizer?: I used to.&lt;br /&gt;[03]Do you believe in love at first sight?: Yep.&lt;br /&gt;[04]Do you believe that every person has one soul mate: Nope.&lt;br /&gt;[05]Do you believe in god?: Very much so&lt;br /&gt;[06]Do you believe in everyone (even the beyond helpless)?: Sadly enough.&lt;br /&gt;[07]Do you believe in having a good education?: Extremely so.&lt;br /&gt;[08]Do you believe in horoscopes?: I believe in astrology.&lt;br /&gt;[09]Do you believe in yourself?: Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;[10]Do you shower daily?: YES.&lt;br /&gt;[11]Do you like this survey so far?: Not particularly. But I'm cranky.&lt;br /&gt;[12]Do you like the person that sent you this?: I really don't know her, but she's extremely depressing. I hope never to talk to her. She's a bit of a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;[13]Do you cry easily?: YES.&lt;br /&gt;[14]Do you believe in Heaven?: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;[15]Do you believe in hell?: Ditto&lt;br /&gt;[16]Do you believe in reincarnation?: I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Favorites}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Favorite day of the week: Saturday&lt;br /&gt;[02]Favorite ice-cream: Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;[03]Favorite cookie: Chocolate chip or snickerdoodle. Or Peanut Butter. Yum.&lt;br /&gt;[04]Favorite movies: -deep breath- The Princess Bride, LotR, original Star Wars trilogy, GoF, Pretty Woman, V for Vendetta, the Little Mermaid, and Aladdin.&lt;br /&gt;[05]Favorite actors: Hayden Christensen (for purely sexual reasons, I assure you), Johnny Depp (for purely worshipping-his-acting-prowess reasons), and Geoffrey Rush (for purely I-FRICKIN'-LOVE-HIM reasons).&lt;br /&gt;[06]Favorite actresses: Don't have one. I don't respect any actress enough. Although I quite love Natalie Portman.&lt;br /&gt;[07]Favorite quote: "How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot?&lt;br /&gt;                                   The world forgetting, by the world forgot.&lt;br /&gt;                                   Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!&lt;br /&gt;                                   Each pray'r accepted, each wish resign'd."&lt;br /&gt;                                                                   -Alexander Pope&lt;br /&gt;[08]Favorite songs: "Rockaria!" by ELO and "i hear you everywhere" by Tanaka Rie&lt;br /&gt;[09]Favorite music groups: The Beatles, Queen, ELO, CCR, and Aerosmith.&lt;br /&gt;[09]Favorite music singers: I dunno. Paul McCartney. John Lennon. Huzzah.&lt;br /&gt;[11]Favorite holiday: Christmas&lt;br /&gt;[12]Favorite season: Autumn!&lt;br /&gt;[13]Favorite colors: Purple!&lt;br /&gt;[14]Favorite flowers: A rose -smiles-&lt;br /&gt;[15]Favorite book: I don't really have one.&lt;br /&gt;[16]Favorite school subject: -shrugs- I dunno. Drama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{When you hear ___ you think of..}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Baseball: Bat!&lt;br /&gt;[02]Jeff: The Fairly OddParents! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;[03]Dog: POOKY!&lt;br /&gt;[04]Warm apple pie: -drool-&lt;br /&gt;[05]Socks: Dumbledore!&lt;br /&gt;[06]Fish: Koi!&lt;br /&gt;[07]Nail: Polish!&lt;br /&gt;[08]Amanda: Mah friend!&lt;br /&gt;[09]Swimming: Diver&lt;br /&gt;[10]Bologna: Sandwich&lt;br /&gt;[11]Giant Eagle: U.S.A.&lt;br /&gt;[12]A nun: Fran. -pauses- That's odd&lt;br /&gt;[13]The # 69: PORNOGRAPHY! AND MASTURBATION!&lt;br /&gt;[14]School: Kill me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Friendships...}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Who is your overall [top of the line] best friend?: I really don't know.&lt;br /&gt;[02]Who is your 2nd best friend?: See above.&lt;br /&gt;[03]Who is your 3rd best friend?: See above.&lt;br /&gt;[04]Who is your 4th best friend?: See above.&lt;br /&gt;[05]If there are anymore, you can list them here: Connie, Ashley, Amy, Ami, Ashley, Amanda, Bella, Brophy, and Dedra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Which of your friends...}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Is the funniest: Me.&lt;br /&gt;[02]Do you tell your dreams to: None of them&lt;br /&gt;[03]Do you tell your fears to: None&lt;br /&gt;[04]Do you go to for advice: None&lt;br /&gt;[05]Have you dreamt about: None&lt;br /&gt;[06]Knows everything about you: None&lt;br /&gt;[07]Do you tell your secrets to: All of them&lt;br /&gt;[09]Is the loudest: Me&lt;br /&gt;[10]Can't you live without: -long pause-&lt;br /&gt;[11]Is the most trendy: NONE!&lt;br /&gt;[12]Can be the most annoying: Dedra&lt;br /&gt;[13]Lives the farthest away from you: Brophy&lt;br /&gt;[14]Lives closest to you: Ashley&lt;br /&gt;[15]Are you most like: NONE!&lt;br /&gt;[16]What do you look for in a friend?: Love, trust, honesty, and openmindedness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Relationships..}&lt;br /&gt;[01]Boyfriend/girlfriend's name: Mr. Imaginary&lt;br /&gt;[02]Crush: None&lt;br /&gt;[03]Where does that special someone live?: As I said!&lt;br /&gt;[04]Things you like in the opposite sex: Oh dear Lord...curly, long hair, white teeth, strong, muscular backs and thighs (-drool-), plump lips, big hands...-has melted into a pool-&lt;br /&gt;[05]When was your first kiss: -shifty eyes-&lt;br /&gt;[06]The most romantic thing anyone has done for you was: -sigh-&lt;br /&gt;[07]Which is more important- personality or looks?: PERSONALITY! PERSONALITY! PERSONALITY! Screw looks! You can find someone who is the ugliest person in the world and have the most beautiful personality and that person can look more attractive than Brad Pitt.&lt;br /&gt;[08]First boyfriend/girlfriend: Not saying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{"Creative" Questions..}&lt;br /&gt;[01]If you had the choice to spin around the sun, or walk on the moon, which would you choose and why?: The moon one! You'd die if you went around the sun, dumb ass!&lt;br /&gt;[02]What color do you think best describes you and why?: Purple! Unique and creative! Huzzah!&lt;br /&gt;[03]If you could be doing anything right now, what would you be doing: If you have to ask, you don't know me.&lt;br /&gt;[04]Would you ever share you heart completely with someone else?: Oh yes. I would love to -is misting up-&lt;br /&gt;[05]Which sense could you not live without, and why?: All of them!&lt;br /&gt;[06]Have you ever written on a mirror? Yes -giggle-&lt;br /&gt;[07]If you could change one thing you did in the last 24 hours, what would it be and why?: Not dancing to every song at prom!&lt;br /&gt;[08]Do you prefer sleeping outside beneath the night sky, or your cozy bed indoors?: The bed. Comfy!&lt;br /&gt;[09]What is the most beautiful thing in the world?: Beauty is in everything.&lt;br /&gt;[10]Name one person whose changed your life for the better: My ex.&lt;br /&gt;[11]What can someone do to you that would turn you on fully- physically or mentally- or both?: Mentally - a debate. Physically - the list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;[12]If you knew you were going to pass away within the next few days, what would be the last thing you say, and who would you say that to?: I love you to my mom.&lt;br /&gt;[13]What is one thing that can make you smile no matter what mood your in?: Kevin in a bag -is smiling-&lt;br /&gt;[14]If you could meet anyone, past or present, dead or alive, who would you meet and why?: John Lennon because I worship him&lt;br /&gt;[15]And finally, what makes you you?: All my different sides.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-114343427911776585?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/114343427911776585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=114343427911776585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114343427911776585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114343427911776585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/03/random-quiz-alert.html' title='Random Quiz Alert!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-114343062607136138</id><published>2006-03-26T21:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T21:37:06.083-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Le Sigh</title><content type='html'>I figured I might as well (even though no one reads this and the ones that do already know and/or don't care). THE PIMPAGE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://summerof-97.livejournal.com/profile"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v345/d_angel777/97banner.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MODS: &lt;lj user="d_angel777"&gt;, &lt;lj user="treeperson"&gt;, &lt;lj user="hereweare__"&gt;, &lt;lj user="gifted_dream"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOIN IT! IT ROCKS! A LOT! CHA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-114343062607136138?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/114343062607136138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=114343062607136138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114343062607136138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114343062607136138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/03/le-sigh.html' title='Le Sigh'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-114134570042667734</id><published>2006-03-02T18:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T18:28:20.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>Huh. Well, whaddya know? I was reading this one Pottersue (a Rent crossover. Be afraid) and I decided to get an account on ff.net. Well, wehn I go to make it, it says I already have one made. So I go and type in my old password for everything and it logs me in! My user name was, and I quote, "puff-the-magic-pepsi". WOW! I haven't seen that in YEARS! I went under the profile and it said "Well, I like basketball, all types of music, my favorite food is( here's a weird one) baby bottle pops, and I like writing fan fiction. Oh yeah, the web-site I added is really cool, it's not mine but I like it."&lt;br /&gt;HA! That's a side of me that none of my current friends have seen. Praise the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-wistful sigh- Brings me back to the days of Mary Sue-dom. GOD I'm glad I'm a better writer now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;linkage: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2653155/1/&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;http://pottersues.livejournal.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be amused!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-114134570042667734?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/114134570042667734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=114134570042667734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114134570042667734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/114134570042667734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2006/03/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113538870550730051</id><published>2005-12-23T19:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T19:45:05.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty much speaks for itself...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;Life according to Joselyn:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subcategory: Musical Tolerance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Freddie Mercury is god. And if you disagree, you will die. And not slowly, either. I don't mind the sight of blood. Or internal organs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subcategory: Speech Impediments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GET DOWN! R...ROSCO...er...RONALD...er...RASCAL...-pauses- DEAR GOD WHAT IS HIS NAME?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subcategory: Common Sense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Connie! Do you seriously think I'm going to go run around Ashley's house AND your house? There's only so far I can run when it's below 40 and I'm in the buff!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113538870550730051?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113538870550730051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113538870550730051' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113538870550730051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113538870550730051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/12/pretty-much-speaks-for-itself.html' title='Pretty much speaks for itself...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113504188404665671</id><published>2005-12-19T19:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T19:24:44.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>News!</title><content type='html'>Well...first off...going to be in the beauty pagent! Not that that's news, but still -shrugs- Haven't quite decided whether I'll be acting or singing. I'm leaning towards acting. Possibly a monologue from Sophocles' Antigone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second news...NAMED MY LIGHTSABER! YAY! It's name is Daisuke, which means "great help". -giggle- Almost named it "bliss child" or Sachiko, but I like Daisuke. Hehe...Daisuke...so pretty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third news...&lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0432402/"&gt;this.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-orgasms-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be better than porn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hayden Christensen and Jimmy Fallon in the same movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-goes off into another room and screams loudly-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU GOD! YOU'VE ANSWERED MY PRAYERS! -loud scream-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-clears her throat- So...yeah...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113504188404665671?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113504188404665671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113504188404665671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113504188404665671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113504188404665671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/12/news.html' title='News!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113372670302028640</id><published>2005-12-04T13:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T14:05:03.360-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Random Surveys</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i am not:  &lt;/span&gt;you&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i hurt: &lt;/span&gt;only a little when I do lunges&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i love: &lt;/span&gt;myself. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lust&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; Brad Pitt&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i hate:  &lt;/span&gt;mean people!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i hope: &lt;/span&gt;for the beast&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i hear: &lt;/span&gt;Er...Bicycle Race by Queen -blush-&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i crave: &lt;/span&gt;affection&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i regret: &lt;/span&gt;not as many things as I used to&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i cry:&lt;/span&gt; at least once a week. It's good for you.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i care: &lt;/span&gt;very deeply.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i always: &lt;/span&gt;daydream&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i long to: &lt;/span&gt;be loved&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i feel alone: &lt;/span&gt;when I'm sad...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i listen: &lt;/span&gt;to my friends...most of the time...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i hide: &lt;/span&gt;from...depression, really...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i drive: &lt;/span&gt;better than everyone else in my family (thank you)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i sing: &lt;/span&gt;a lot worse than I should...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i write: &lt;/span&gt;SLASH!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i breathe: &lt;/span&gt;slowly&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i miss: &lt;/span&gt;youth&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i feel: &lt;/span&gt;strangely cold and hot at the same time...bloody heater&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i know: &lt;/span&gt;there's something exciting around the corner&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i say:  &lt;/span&gt;Poop...it's the new expletive!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i succeed: &lt;/span&gt;when I work...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i fail: &lt;/span&gt;when I don't try&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i dream: &lt;/span&gt;all the bloody time...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i sleep: &lt;/span&gt;like a cat&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i wonder: &lt;/span&gt;why I feel so alone sometimes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i want: &lt;/span&gt;love&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i worry: &lt;/span&gt;about my future&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i have: &lt;/span&gt;rough acting talent (shut it, Brophy, you perv)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i give: &lt;/span&gt;not enough&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i wait: &lt;/span&gt;to get out into the real world&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i need: &lt;/span&gt;LOVE!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i am: &lt;/span&gt;Joselyn&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i think: &lt;/span&gt;WAAAY too much&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i can't help the fact that: &lt;/span&gt;I am who I am&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i stay: &lt;/span&gt;at the fair a little too long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What comes to your mind when you hear:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;01. cats? &lt;/span&gt;  ARIEL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;02. dogs? &lt;/span&gt; POOKY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;03. phones?&lt;/span&gt; Ring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;04. radio?&lt;/span&gt; Loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05. books?&lt;/span&gt; Large&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;06. rap?&lt;/span&gt; Talking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;07. christmas?&lt;/span&gt; Music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;08. holidays?&lt;/span&gt; Snowy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;09. vacation?&lt;/span&gt; Beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. friends?&lt;/span&gt; Smiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. family?&lt;/span&gt; Crazed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. computer?&lt;/span&gt; Dommie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. cell phone?&lt;/span&gt; Slippery little bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14. nail polish?&lt;/span&gt; Clear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15. flip?&lt;/span&gt; Flops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16. window?&lt;/span&gt; Pane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17. door?&lt;/span&gt; Closed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18. sky?&lt;/span&gt; Blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. ground?&lt;/span&gt; Dirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. catcher?&lt;/span&gt; Baseball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21. sports?&lt;/span&gt; TV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22. practice? &lt;/span&gt;Choir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23. animal?&lt;/span&gt; Dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24. laguna?&lt;/span&gt; Stupid damn television show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25. bitch?&lt;/span&gt; ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;26. funny?&lt;/span&gt; ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;27. glitter?&lt;/span&gt; Very bad movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;28. abercrombie?&lt;/span&gt; I have a shirt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;29. questions?&lt;/span&gt; Answers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;30. class?&lt;/span&gt; Walthour...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;31. homework? &lt;/span&gt;La tarea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;32. locker?&lt;/span&gt; Room...heh...porn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;33. hall?&lt;/span&gt; Monitor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;34. mall?&lt;/span&gt; Books-A-Million&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;35. rollercoaster?&lt;/span&gt; Song by B*Witched&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;36. pencil?&lt;/span&gt; Eraser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;37. doodle?&lt;/span&gt; Bored&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;38. crush?&lt;/span&gt; PINEAPPLES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;39. pizza?&lt;/span&gt; When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie it's amore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;40. music?&lt;/span&gt; Play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;41. press?&lt;/span&gt; On nails (Don't know where that came from)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;42. pictures?&lt;/span&gt; Photographs (Not the song)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;43. cracker?&lt;/span&gt; White and southern&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;44. coke? &lt;/span&gt;PEPSI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;45. fish? &lt;/span&gt;and chips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;46. food?&lt;/span&gt; Restaurant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;47. chips?&lt;/span&gt; and fish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;48. keys?&lt;/span&gt; Somewhere around the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;49. grass? &lt;/span&gt;Jellybeans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;50. please?&lt;/span&gt; Harder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;What does everyone call you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your locker number?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Er...319? Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Homeroom number? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Don't have one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;What's your favorite class?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; I don't know...Creative Writing, I think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Least favorite class?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Computer Business Applications...as much as I love Connie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Hardest class?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Trig...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Do you sit in the front or the back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Front&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Do you get a lot of homework?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Hell no...I'm a senior, bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;How often do you see your friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Almost every day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Who do you sit with at lunch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Brophy, Dedra, Amy, Satan, and Manny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Who's your favorite teacher?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Er...I don't know...Ms. Huckaby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Least favorite?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Don't have one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Have a crush yet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; I did in the 9th grade...not at this school, though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Get any bad grades yet?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; Naturally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Your best grade so far?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; 100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;What grade are you in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; 12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Do you like it so far? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Er...yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;What school do you go to? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;De Queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Are you a popular kid or in the middle or just not? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I don't know and I don't give a flying fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;What do you have for lunch? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Nachoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Are you doing any sports? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;If not what the hell are you doing? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Being a nerd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Do a lot of people know you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;They know who I am...but not the real me, no...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Do teachers liek you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Should you really be doing your homework now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I should be studying for a Trig test, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;01. What was the last book you read? &lt;/span&gt;That one Quidditch book...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;02. How long have you known your best friend? &lt;/span&gt;A few years...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;03. What's you favorite color?  &lt;/span&gt;Purple&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;04. What state do you live in?&lt;/span&gt; Arkansas&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05. What's the current weather there? &lt;/span&gt;Cold...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;06. What time did you go to sleep last night? &lt;/span&gt;Not very well&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;07. When was the last time you talked on the phone? &lt;/span&gt;About 30 minutes ago...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;08. Do you have an innie or an outie? &lt;/span&gt;Innie&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;09. Do you like rap? &lt;/span&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Do you have any striped shirts? &lt;/span&gt;Cha&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. What grade are you in? &lt;/span&gt;12th&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. What color are the walls in your room? White?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. How many CDs do you have? &lt;/span&gt;I don't know! A lot!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14. What color are your toes? &lt;/span&gt;White?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15. Do you have a dog? &lt;/span&gt;7 of them...Pooky (Aayla), Ronnie, Dee Dee, Harry, T.J., Sarah, and Bob...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16. What did you have for breakfast yesterday? &lt;/span&gt;Cereal&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17. Do you want to have kids when you grow up? &lt;/span&gt;Cha&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18. How many pets do you have? &lt;/span&gt;Too many to count...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. Did you ever lie to your friend?&lt;/span&gt; Cha&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. Do you think you’re hot?&lt;/span&gt; Er...no...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21. Do you have a crush on someone?&lt;/span&gt; Nope!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22. Where would you want to go for a vacation? &lt;/span&gt;Disney World&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23. Do you like green day? &lt;/span&gt;I guess...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24. Are you a Goth? &lt;/span&gt;I can be...but not really...that's a stereotype which I don't believe in...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25. Do you hate pink? &lt;/span&gt;HELL NO! It's my second favorite color!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;26. Do you like chicken noodle soup?&lt;/span&gt; Yes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;27. Do you have a big backyard?  &lt;/span&gt;Very big...used to have a barn back there...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;28. Did you ever steal anything? &lt;/span&gt;Pennies when I was little and only from my dad...and he knew about it...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;29. What's your favorite animal? &lt;/span&gt;I dunno...Blue Footed Booby? Heh...booby...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;30. What word rhymes with your name? &lt;/span&gt;Add an "e" sound on anything and it rhymes...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;31. Do you have a cell phone?&lt;/span&gt; Yes...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;32. Do you have your own TV? &lt;/span&gt;Sorta&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;33. Are you scared of spiders?&lt;/span&gt; Nope&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;34. Do you hate cleaning?&lt;/span&gt; Sometimes...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;35. What's the craziest thing you've ever done? &lt;/span&gt;I dunno...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;36. Can you do a front flip? &lt;/span&gt;If I want to&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;37. Do you believe in heaven? &lt;/span&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;38. How many boyfriends have you had? &lt;/span&gt;None of your business, fucker...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;39. Have you ever been in love? &lt;/span&gt;I think so...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;40. Would you rather be lonely or depressed? &lt;/span&gt;They both coincide...-shakes her head- Who the hell made out this test?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;41. How many languages can you speak? &lt;/span&gt;2! English and BAG BAG.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;42. Why are clouds white? &lt;/span&gt;They're not always white. It's condensation of water. Figure it out.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;43. What time is it? &lt;/span&gt;Time for you to get a fucking watch...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;44. What are the last four digits in your phone number? &lt;/span&gt;2028&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;45. Do you have a stapler? &lt;/span&gt;I wish I had one in my hands...God who ever made this test out is annoying the fuck out of me...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;46. If you could have one wish, what would it be? &lt;/span&gt;To be happy&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;47. What's your favorite radio station? &lt;/span&gt;Bob 101.7&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;48. Do you watch a lot of TV?&lt;/span&gt; I guess...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;49. Can you type quickly? &lt;/span&gt;Over 114 gwam&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;50. What do you love doing? &lt;/span&gt;Mastu...nevermind...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;51. How many windows are in your room?&lt;/span&gt; One...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;52. Glitter or sequins?&lt;/span&gt; BOTH!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;53. Do you shop at hot topic?&lt;/span&gt; Not really...I shop at eBay...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;54. What street do you live on?&lt;/span&gt; I am so not posting that on the Internet...when I fake people out, though...I tell them I live at 212 S. Mangoe Street, though -grins-&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;55. Would you rather be random or hyper? &lt;/span&gt;Both!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113372670302028640?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113372670302028640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113372670302028640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372670302028640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372670302028640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/12/some-random-surveys.html' title='Some Random Surveys'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113372464417328064</id><published>2005-12-04T13:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T13:30:44.186-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil Boxers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/ico-boxers01.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/320/ico-boxers01.0.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEHE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113372464417328064?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113372464417328064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113372464417328064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372464417328064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372464417328064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/12/evil-boxers.html' title='Evil Boxers'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113372069319578455</id><published>2005-12-04T12:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T12:24:53.266-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Xanga...</title><content type='html'>What a joke...-shakes her head- We got a lecture on Xanga by Ms. Huckaby, and really and truly, she's right. I mean, I went to Xanga, typed in De Queen and found SO many people that you wouldn't believe it. I found people that I haven't seen in YEARS! -shakes her head- Not like they really had much to say, naturally, but c'mon! They gave their names (full names), and their schedules! Do they really expect for someone not to get them! I mean, pictures in BIKINIS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I'm not really that afraid when it comes to web posting. First off, I don't put my picture. For a reason. I don't want to scare someone. Even though, my picture would be a good defense against pedifiles. Or however the hell you spell it. But if there is someone out there reading this with bad intentions (I'm just indulging my paranoid side here, people -looks around her really quickly-) STAY THE HELL AWAY! I WILL BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU! I am not a little weak, bony thing. I am strong, I am woman, and you will die. Your nuts will be in a little jar on my mantle. I do not take people fucking with me, and you will be in so much pain...you'll regret ever being born, no matter how cliche that is. I am extremely violent and don't mind the sight of blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know...that was so great. -grins happily- I need to do threatening posts more often...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113372069319578455?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113372069319578455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113372069319578455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372069319578455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113372069319578455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/12/xanga.html' title='Xanga...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113287863636902262</id><published>2005-11-24T18:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T18:30:36.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing...</title><content type='html'>I just filled out this thing at FA and I just decided to put it here. It might help me in years and months and weeks to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Strengths:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really get into my writing and it's really obvious. When I write, it's like...I'm sucked into that world and it takes me a little bit of time to get back to reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love description. Usually, the people that read my story can understand the scenery and situation completely. And I have a very distinguishable style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do like to think I'm pretty original with my ideas. Usually the only cliches in my stories are intentional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that my stories really affect people. Like, can remind them of their past experiences and really make them think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, humor is my strong point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Weaknesses:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy, sometimes I just CAN'T WRITE! I mean, I still have stories from like the 8th grade I haven't finished! It's the most frustrating thing in the world! My friends pop out stories every few days and for me, it's a story every six months! GAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm pretty bad with criticism. I've learned to be more accepting of it over time, and I try my best to accept the comments, but...GAH! I'm terrible with it! It's like...telling me that there's something wrong with my child! -laughs- That sounds pretty bad, but it's true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I've a tendency of interjecting myself upon a character. That's why short stories are my bag. Because I'm in and out of a character's mind without adding a bit of Joselyn to it, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but most certainly not least, I'm awful with novels/novellas. I just...I can't write them. Maybe I'm just afraid because the last one I did was maybe five years ago and it was extremely Mary Sue-ish. Maybe I'm afraid I'll mess up again. I am trying another, non-fandom based novel, but I'm having a hard time with it. Oh well...keep on trucking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113287863636902262?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113287863636902262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113287863636902262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113287863636902262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113287863636902262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/11/writing.html' title='Writing...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-113000629983123373</id><published>2005-10-22T11:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T09:31:54.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Party Stuff</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about songs and everything...since we're doing the Time Warp and the Cha Cha Slide...might as well get more songs and print out the lyrics for everyone so we can all see (albeit badly). Like...the Lumberjack Song...Time Warp...Thriller...Ghostbusters...stuff like that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Games:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balloon Pumping Race (self explanatory)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corny Game:&lt;br /&gt;Get Candy Corn. Put a glass behind a chair (back) and sit on chair, attempting to drop candy corn into glass with only mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creepy Crawlies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Divide into teams of 3 and have players face each other in a triangle. On the back of each players chair stick a paper with the picture or name of an insect. Allow each player to view the insects on the chairs of the player facing him/her. Players then ask yes/no questions to each other to guess what kind of insect they are. For example, ' Does it have 6 legs?' 'No' etc. First team of three to guess all the insects wins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Pumpkin Hunt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Draw ten white pumpkins, five yellow pumpkins and five orange pumpkins. Cut out all the pumpkins. Draw a funny face on each pumpkin. Write the number 1 on the backs of the white pumpkins. Write the number 5 on the backs of the yellow pumpkins. Write the number 10 on the backs of the orange pumpkins. Hide the pumpkins. When your friends come, tell them to find as many pumpkins as they can before you say "Stop!" Have your friends add up the numbers on the pumpkins they found. The person with the most points wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ghost Hunter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Start by selecting 5-10 Halloween related words. Here are some suggestions: bat, cat, ghost, ghoul, pumpkin, witch, broom, goblin etc. You may want a styrofoam base to stick the ghosts into during the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divide players into ghost hunting teams of 3-5 per team, the number per team may be based the ages of the players. Each team is given clues to find ghosts that can be hidden outside or inside. Note: Don't place all the ghosts together or the they will grab the first ghost they see rather than find the ghost you want them to find. Also, tell them not to untie the ghosts until after the game is over. So send them off to different areas. You'll&lt;br /&gt;want 1 ghost per guest or a specified number per team, but have extras so each player gets a ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each ghost is a lollipop covered with tissue paper, tied with ribbon with a letter written on the ghost. Use a marker a add eyes and a mouth to the ghosts. Letters written on the ghosts will be letters from the word you chose above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send the players off with clues to find ghosts. If young children are playing, have an adult go with them for safety and to assist if they don't understand the clues. Here are some examples of possible clues:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I live near the large pine tree in the backyard&lt;br /&gt;2.  At night I come out from under the patio chair&lt;br /&gt;3.  I fly around under the BBQ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Increase difficulty of clues with age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once they return with the ghosts, form words with the ghosts but mix up the letters and have the players guess the word. Each time a child guesses a word they get a ghost! Make sure all players get a ghost at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Halloween Pictionary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Begin by making slips of paper with Halloween words such as tombstone, vampire, bat, spooky, spider, mummy, and others. Divide into two teams. One player from the first team starts by picking a slip of paper from the pumpkin. They use the chalkboard to draw items related to the word. They can not write the word. Their team tries to guess the word. Set a 2 minute time limit. The other team goes next. Keep rotating until everyone has a chance to draw. You can keep score and have one team win, or just play for the fun of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mummy Maker:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Divide the kids into smaller groups. One kid in each group is the mummy and the others wrap the mummy with toilet paper as fast as possible. You can have a winner for the best mummy or a race for the fastest mummy wrapped, or no winner at all. To avoid problems with "I want to be the mummy!" you can divide the groups and have each member of the group draw an assignment out of a pumpkin for their "job". You need at least one mummy per group and you could assign one kid to wrap the legs, arms, etc.. or just let them go. Make sure to set some ground rules. You might want to tell them NOT to wrap the head or face and throwing the rolls of toilet paper around the room probably is not a good idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sweet Spot:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Have all the players determine a guessing order. One way is to write numbers on small pieces of paper and have them draw from a jar. This won't be necessary if the players are all very young (4-5 year old or less) but order will make a difference in this game. Fill a large jar with a mix of wrapped candies (such as Brachs), but make sure you know how many went in! The players have to take turns guessing the total number of candies in the jar. As each player takes a guess, tell the rest whether the true number is higher or lower than the last guess - this makes the game a little easier for them! Eventually one person wins and gets the candy! They should be encouraged to share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Baby, If You Love Me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Everyone sits in a circle. Placement doesn't matter. A player is chosen to go first. The player goes to another player in the circle that they think will laugh easily. Then they sit on their lap and say "Baby if you love me, won't you please smile?" They can play with that player's hair or whisper in their ear or act loving or anything that will get them to laugh. It all depends on the type of party and the ages of the players. If it is in a youth group or with kids or with teens that have adults around you may have to set rules on what type of touching, etc. is allowed. If it is with adults, couples, singles, or teens it all depends on what they&lt;br /&gt;decide.  You may say anything goes or you may say that no touching another player is allowed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the person says "Baby if you love me won't you please smile?" the player being sat on must say "Baby I love ya but I just can't smile" without laughing or even cracking a smile. If they don't smile and say the phrase without a hitch, the person on their lap moves on to try and get somebody else. If the person being sat on does laugh it's their turn to be the person in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Balloon Burst:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Set up several balloons with strips of paper inside which say to do silly things (sing "New York, New York, bark like a dog, do the Charleston etc.) Place all the players in a circle. Pass a balloon around the circle. Each player has to sit on the balloon with all their weight for 3 seconds. If someone breaks the balloon, they must do what it says on the message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some crazy ideas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Read from the phone book as a Shakespearean actor.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Act out this scene - a cow being branded&lt;br /&gt;3.  Do and sing  the macarena&lt;br /&gt;4.  Sing jailhouse rock as Elvis                                           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Barnyard Animals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Have everyone write down their favorite barnyard animal, as long as it is NOT the rooster. Next have everyone write down five different numbers between 1-20 (depending on the group size). The host starts calling out numbers between 1-20 randomly (don't use the same number twice), and the people who have that number written on their paper have to make the sound of the animal they wrote on their paper. Pause slightly between numbers. Barnyard animals are not shy, so there should be a lot of loud sounds. After someone has all five numbers called out that they wrote down, they win...BUT...they have to stand up, bend their knees, flap their "wings" and crow like a rooster to receive their prize. Be aware that several may win at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Believe It Or Not Jeopardy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Divide the guests into two teams. Before the game make a "game board" with poster board and post-it notes. Write questions on a post-it note and then cover it with a second post-it note with the question amount ($200, $400 etc.) Have general cooking questions, questions about your company, questions from history, questions about music or just whatever you'd like to have talked about in your group. The game can be as long or as short as you'd like by adjusting the number of questions. Give the winning team party favors and the second place team lesser favors, but give something to everyone. It will be a huge success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Bellydancing Competition:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Have all men in the group participate. Have men wear scarves around their faces and pull up or take off their shirts to expose their bellies. Start the music and watch the laughs. Let them dance at the same time or one at a time for 30 seconds each. The most "voluptuous" and "fairest of them all" wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Celebrities:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Everyone writes the name of a celebrity, famous person or character on a piece of paper which they stick to the forehead of the player on their left (use tape or office Post-It notes). Make sure they don’t see the name. Everyone else can see your forehead. The objective is to figure out who you are. Going around the table, each payer takes a turn to ask the party questions about who they are - answers can be YES or NO only. If you get a YES you may continue asking, if you get a NO play moves on to the left. Last person to guess their name is the loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Cherry Game:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Ask who at the party likes cherries. When you have several volunteers, place in front of each of them a maraschino cherry in a bowl. Explain that this will be a race to see who can eat their cherry first. They cannot use their hands. Just as they think this will be an easy game, you go around with a can of whipped cream and fill each bowl. Now you have a fun game. The winner is the first to find and eat the cherry. Have a camera handy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Famous Names:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Each player picks the name of a famous person and writes it down. Once you've chosen you cannot change! (Homer Simpson, Mae West, Abraham Lincoln, Caesar Augustus etc.) Mix up the names and hand them out to everyone in the room. Have everyone mingle and chat while acting like their character or better yet, have each person do 30 second of dialogue in the guise of the person they chose. The others guess who he/she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Funny Face Contest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Pull each of your guests aside one by one into a different and take their picture with the digital camera. Have them make a funny face and be sure to tell them there is a prize for the best face. After all the pictures have been taken, download them to your computer or laptop and have everyone gather around the monitor (or if you can burn a DVD and show them on your big screen TV this is even better). The winner will be judged on the greatest laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Couples Game: &lt;/b&gt;Like The Newlywed Game&lt;br /&gt;            Who's Your Mate? - Have one person from each couple leave the room.              The host/hostess tailors some planned questions to the group and to              certain couples. The other half of each couple stays in the room,              and answers questions about their mate/date. They're supposed to answer              each question the way they think their mate/date would respond. They              need to write each answer down, so that when their partner returns              he/she can give their own answer to each question. Assign point values              for each question that is a match. Then reverse roles of the couples              for the next set of questions. The couple with the most points wins              a prize. Make sure the prize is something they can share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We can vary that and instead of couples game, it's more of a "do you know your friend" game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horror Film:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Choose five players. On the table there are 5 eggs. The leader says that one of them is uncooked. But others are hard-boiled. The players must break the eggs against their foreheads. The player who gets an uncooked egg is considered to be the bravest. In fact all the eggs are hardboiled and the prize is given to the last player because he deliberately ran risks to become a laughing-stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There's one that's "I Never" musical chairs...but that sucks...we should just play "I Never"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In The Manner of the Adverb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Have the group sit in a circle. Choose a person to leave the room out where they cannot hear the group discussion. The remaining group then chooses an adverb. This could be any adverb such as "musically", "quietly", "sarcastically", "athletically", "religiously" etc. Remember, adverbs usually end in "LY". After the group has chosen, ask the person to rejoin the group. The person returns and then has several members of the group act out a scene of their choice. For example they might say "I want Tom, Dave and Tina to act out a scene where Tom and Tina are a couple having dinner and they have a problem with the meal. Dave is the waiter." Then the actors must improvize the scene acting it out in the manner of the adverb. So if the adverb is "athletically", the waiter might be running in place etc. The more creative, the better. This game has the potential to be absolutely hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Knights, Horses, and Caviliers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A leader must be chosen who will not play. Two equal circles are formed, with one inside the other. The people of the inside circle will pair up with someone on the outside circle and remain with that partner for the rest of the game. The inside circle will walk clockwise clapping their hands in rhythm and the outside circle, also clapping, will walk in the opposite direction. The leader can choose to call out "Knights", "Horses" or "Cavaliers". When the leader calls out "Horses!", the individuals stop clapping and run to find their partner. Once together, one partner will go on all fours, like a horse, and the other partner will straddle their back. The last partner group to form that position will be asked to act out a simple silly situation of their choice that makes use of a rider and a horse. An example would be "Dismount and feed your horse some hay" or "Pretend you are at the rodeo". &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The game then continues in the same fashion as before. If the leader calls "Knights!" instead, one partner will sit on the other partner's knee. The partner therefore has one knee up to be sat on and the other on the ground for support. Again, the last partnership must act out a silly sequence such as "You're a baby on daddy's knee!". If "Cavaliers!" is called, then one of the partners will lift their partner up into their arms. However, one leg lifted by their partner is allowed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Lap Stack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Put everyone in a circle. Each player should have a chair. Ask these statements to the guests. When a person can answer yes to a question, that person moves to the next seat on their right. By the way.. After a while there will be several players sitting on laps...even 4 at a time. You will want to have your own list of questions or criteria. Here are a few suggestion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;If you are wearing shoes that tie &lt;br /&gt;If you are wearing a watch &lt;br /&gt;If you have on a button &lt;br /&gt;If you went to church Sunday &lt;br /&gt;If you kissed your significant other today &lt;br /&gt;If you are wearing heels &lt;br /&gt;If you are wearing a ring &lt;br /&gt;If you are having fun &lt;br /&gt;If you are wearing yellow &lt;br /&gt;If you made the bed you slept in &lt;br /&gt;If you have a zipper &lt;br /&gt;If you are wearing pants &lt;br /&gt;If you have a son &lt;br /&gt;If you have green eyes&lt;br /&gt;If you have been to Hawaii&lt;br /&gt;If you like chocolate&lt;br /&gt;If speak a foreign language&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first person to get back to their original seat wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I Never&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Each person receives several (10 or 15 is a good number) pennies, jellybeans or similar small objects. The group sits in a circle. Each person tells of something they have never done. Anyone who has done this must give the speaker one of their pennies or whatever. After going around the circle twice, the person with the most tokens wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Park Bench&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is really fun for a big group with imagination! Set up two chairs next to each other and pretend that they are a single park bench in a city park. The idea is to do whatever you can to make the person in the &lt;br /&gt;seat next to you leave the "bench". For example, if you were sitting in one seat and a stranger came up and started hugging you, you would probably leave. When you get the person to leave, you move into their seat &lt;br /&gt;and it's somebody else's turn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Sausages&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Divide into two teams. One team takes turns to ask one a person in the other team a question e.g. What do you stir your tea with?. The person is only allowed to answer 'sausages' and they mustn't laugh or smile. They get a point for each question they can answer without laughing. Each team gets 2 questions for the number of players on their teams. If they do laugh, that team gets to ask the opposing team questions, until everyone has had a go. Very few people last more than one or two questions, especially if the questions become creative!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-113000629983123373?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/113000629983123373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=113000629983123373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113000629983123373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/113000629983123373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/10/more-party-stuff.html' title='More Party Stuff'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112959477933804556</id><published>2005-10-17T19:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T19:19:39.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So there</title><content type='html'>-sticks her tongue out at &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/devaigh/"&gt;Dedra&lt;/a&gt;-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112959477933804556?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112959477933804556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112959477933804556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112959477933804556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112959477933804556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/10/so-there.html' title='So there'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112955989291883225</id><published>2005-10-17T09:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T09:38:13.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ideas for games</title><content type='html'>Cha...I'm in French class now...looking on the internet for some games...and I found some good ones...And also...I want this one game...where you make Halloween stories...like one person begins one...and then the next person adds a sentence...and so on and so forth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Deja Blair Witch - Halloween Party &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends with video cameras? Invite friends to create a scary or humorous 5 minute film in the style of Blair Witch, then have a Halloween Film Festival and play the tapes. Ideas could be: A bathroom with no toilet paper, In a mall with no credit cards, Halloween is here and I don't have a costume, have an idea? - So get going&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Halloween Candy Hunt &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like an Easter egg hunt: Buy plastic eggs and paint them in halloween colors. put candy in them. then hide them. The prize can be the candy inside or some of the eggs can contain notification of winning a small prize or party favor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And also...I want this one game...where you make Halloween stories...like one person begins one...and then the next person adds a sentence...and so on and so forth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Worst Makeover Ever: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;You must try and see who can make the worst make over. Divide group into groups of 2,3 or 4 players. Each team needs a willing player to be made up! It can be a guy or a girl! The host can act as judge. Each team get a bag of different items including different makeup items, false eyelashes etc. Give each team 5 minutes to work their magic. The host decides who wins. The winning makeover artist then has to let herself/himself be given a make over by all of the other players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Scary Story Hunt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Start by making a scary spooky story (you can find lots of these on the internet) and cut it into pieces. Hide each piece in different places of your home. Tell your guests that there are a certain number of pieces of the story and they need to find them all to know the whole story. If you want to make this for teens or scary for a Halloween party then make several scary messages such as Turn Back Now. We suggest putting the pieces of the message in very interesting or freaky places such as test to a puddle of fake blood. If you really want to go all out then why don't you make the paper look old by burning the edges, soaking it in tea, and make it look dirty by smearing it in coco powder, making it brittle by baking it, or use a combination of all of the above. Have a great party! Then once the pieces are found, put them together and read the story! Happy scaring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Anacrophobia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Attach a paper clip to plastic spiders and put them in a tub of water. This can be done by threading one end of the clip through a leg or the body. Make a fishing rod by attaching a magnet to a string and tying the string to a pole. Each child get a chance to fish out a spider. Paint colored dots on the spiders with certain colors tied to special prizes. For example, spiders with white dots might get to keep the spiders. Red dots win candy bars and a very special blue dot wins the grand prize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Candy Bar Guessing Game:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Buy 20 different brands of chocolate bars (snickers, baby ruth, milky way, twix etc.) and put a sizeable piece of each on a paper plate, but not the whole bar - just a piece of each. Number each plate with a marker from 1 to 20 and make sure that you keep track of which candy bar is put on each numbered plate. Make a list such as #1 Snickers #2 Mr. Goodbar #3 Kitkat etc. Put each plate in the microwave and wait until the candy bar is melted pretty good. Some will melt better than others, therefore you may have to do some squashing with your finger to make them a bit less recognizable. But don't melt them or squash them too much since it may make them completely unrecognizable. You want to give your guests a fighting chance here. Next, after all melting and squashing is complete, put all the plates on a table with paper and pencils and have them write down their guesses. Then read off the answers and have them mark their correct guesses. The one with the most correct wins. What do they win? Candy bars of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Dopey Donuts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; A donut is hung from the branch of a tree by a string and a selected player must be spun around blindfolded. Then the player has 15 seconds in which to find and eat the donut. Each player is given a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Get off My Hat:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Get several brown grocery bags and cut open so that they lie flat. Cut the bags into the shape of witch's hat (you can color them if you want) and mark one hat as the "magic hat." Scatter the hats on the floor. The players get into a line and shut their eyes. A leader is at the front to see that no one peeks. Whoever peeks is out of the game. When the music starts, the players walk back and forth across the hats. Any player on the magic hat when the music stops is out of the game. The last player left wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Halloween Balloon Battle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Divide the group into two teams. Tie the balloons to everyone's ankles. Say "go" and watch the teams trying to burst the other team's balloons first. The team with the last balloon wins. As your balloon is burst you withdraw from the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Monster Dancing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Play Halloween music and have the kids dance like monsters! Monster Mash is a good song for this game. When the music stops the kids freeze in their monster positions. The first kid to move gets to stop the music. This is a good game for the end of the party since you can make it last as long you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Mr. Ween's Body Parts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Ahead of time, prepare the cups that are described below. Have everyone sit in a circle. Pass out the paper and pencils and explain the guessing game. Then shut out the lights and start the story. You have to have the room dark so that people cannot see what's inside of the cups. The guests write down what they think is really in the cup. You'll want to briefly turn the lights on between each cup so that they can write their answers down. If the kids are really young (they can't write), then simply have each one guess what it is out load (but don't tell them what is really in the cups until the very end).&lt;br /&gt;Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; "Once in this town there lived a man named Hal O. Ween. T'was years ago this very night that he was murdered out of spite. They say these are his remains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Here is his brain, which now feels no pain.             (a wet squishy tomato)&lt;br /&gt;Here are his eyes, still frozen with surprise.            (two frozen peeled grapes or olives)&lt;br /&gt;Here is his heart. Be careful lest it start!                  (a large lump of uncooked liver)&lt;br /&gt;Now we have his hair, which once was so fair!      (a handful of corn silk or wet fur or yarn)&lt;br /&gt;Feel these drops of his blood. All the rest turned to mud.    (a little catsup thinned with warm water)&lt;br /&gt;One hand all alone, just rotting flesh and bone.    (a damp plastic glove filled with red gelatin or ice)&lt;br /&gt;Now touch his ear. He nevermore will hear!           (a dried apricot)&lt;br /&gt;This is his nose. T'will never smell a rose.              (a pickle, a hot dog or a soft chicken bone)&lt;br /&gt;These worms are all that's left to feel. For them Brown was a lovely meal!  (wet spaghetti)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;After the lights back on and everyone has finished writing down their guesses, collect the papers. As you check their guesses, you can show everyone what was really in the cups. Give a nice prize to the person with the most correct answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Poke In The Eye:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Everyone leaves the room except three people and the host. The three people seat themselves on chairs lined in a row. The host goes out of the room where the other party goers are gathered and blindfolds a volunteer. The blindfolded volunteer is guided into the room. The host explains to the volunteer that they are to try and recognize by touch each of the three people seated before them. The host holds the index finger of &lt;br /&gt;the volunteer and guides it over the face of the first seated person. "This is the nose" as the finger is guided over the nose. "These are the lips" as the finger is guided over the lips. "This is the left eye" &lt;br /&gt;as the finger is guided over the left eye lid. Likewise with the right eye. After this is done, the host asks the volunteer if they can recognize the person seated on the chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The host then moves on to the second seated person and repeats the procedure. And again with the third seated person, only this time, when the host is holding the index finger of the volunteer and is just about to stroke the right eyelid, the host plunges the finger into a bowl of Jell-O. The volunteer thinks he has just plunged his finger into the seated persons right eye. SCREAMS! The people outside of the room wonder what is going on! Repeat all this again with another volunteer who is outside of the room. Eventually you will have a room full of prior victims anticipating the "jelly moment". A very memorable party moment full of laughter, screams and belly aches!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Pretzel Straw Race:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; First divide your group into two teams. Each team will need to be lined up facing the forward. Then take a bunch of straws and give each player one. The player at the beginning of the line gets the pretzel. This should be the twisted pretzel, not the pretzel sticks!. Before you begin, everybody puts the straws into their mouth and then the captain (first person in each line) puts a pretzel on his/her straw. The object is to pass the pretzel from team member to team member using only the straw, no hands allowed! The first team to pass it down to the end of the line wins. If the pretzel falls on the floor then you must start at the beginning again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Prize Auction:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; This game is designed to be played after all other games at your party have been played. Before your party or gathering, put play money (like Monopoly money) in envelopes with one bill per envelope. Use bills of $20, $50 and $100. Next, play games and have the players play for about 5 envelopes per game with the winners of each game getting an envelope. You can give first place an envelope with a higher bill or you might just let the winners randomly choose from a handful of envelopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Once you play all your games and get rid of all the envelopes, you start the auction. Hold up a prize in a brown paper bag and start the bidding with $20. Then everyone will get the hang of the auction. The catch is that you hold the brown bag up with the prize inside and have them bid without knowing what they are bidding on. The person with the highest bid opens the bag and to see what they have bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Have some fun and put some good prizes in bags and some practical jokes in the bags. My guests really enjoyed it when I did this game for my son's baby shower. Especially when someone got some baby food with a bib. That was hysterical. Have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;The Pick Up Bench:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; This is a game for costume parties only. Players must be wearing costumes for it to be funny. Give each player a number. Numbers are randomly called. The first sits on the left and the other on the right. The player on the left has to invent a comical, creative pick up line for the player on the right based on how they are dressed, their costume. Flirting is permitted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Tommy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; The group sits in a circle and one person (the detective) goes out of the room, closes his/her eyes and sticks his/her fingers in their ears. While the detective is out of the room the other people put sweets such as wrapped candies, homemade treats etc. onto a plate and name one sweet "TOMMY". Then the detective comes back into the room and picks up one sweet at a time, when the detective picks up "Tommy" the other people stop the person and all the sweets the detective has picked up is theirs to keep and the left overs go back with the other sweets. Then another person is the detective and leaves the room etc. This carries on while each person takes a turn until all the sweets have been used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Truth or Scare:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Form a circle with the group. You pick a person to ask, "Truth or Scare?". If they say "truth" that means you have to ask them a question about their scariest time or their greatest fear or tell a scary story. But if they pick "Dare" then you dare them to do something daring that is scary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Witch Witch Ghost:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Four or more people sit, stand, or kneel in a circle facing in. One person goes around the circle touching each person on the head as they pass and saying "Witch". The person on the outside continues around the circle tapping and saying "Witch" until he/she decides he/she's ready. He/she then taps someone on the head and says "Ghost" and proceeds to run around the circle. The "Ghost" must run around the circle in the opposite direction. Both are racing for the open spot in the circle. The loser gets to be the caller for the next round. Variations on this game are many including hopping or skipping, or perhaps in piggy-back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" &gt;Witches Brew:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Fill a big pot with prizes wrapped in black and green paper and throw a bunch of other gross stuff in such as rubber spiders and snakes, cobwebs, popcorn Styrofoam to make it look like a big stew. Keep paper towels handy, etc. to make it look like a big stew. If you are really daring you can add cooked wet spaghetti or Jell-O. Then have them reach their hand in for prize (if they dare!). For added fun, turn the lights down and/or blind fold each person before they reach in. Have fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.partygamecentral.com/pgcstandard/gameliststd.asp?type=halloween&amp;amp;catname=HALLOWEEN+PARTY+GAMES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112955989291883225?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112955989291883225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112955989291883225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112955989291883225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112955989291883225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/10/ideas-for-games.html' title='Ideas for games'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112948859094765179</id><published>2005-10-16T13:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T13:58:07.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Items for the party (Just in case anyone wanted to know)</title><content type='html'>From Allison's:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 Cauldrons (cups)&lt;br /&gt;2 Splat Creatures&lt;br /&gt;3 Black Masks&lt;br /&gt;1 Package (of 6) Hot dog shaped bubble gum&lt;br /&gt;2 Mini Maracas&lt;br /&gt;2 Cigar Shaped Bubble gum&lt;br /&gt;1 Squishy Heart&lt;br /&gt;11 Halloween Stensils&lt;br /&gt;2 Body Parts (lips and tongue)&lt;br /&gt;1 Halloween Pumpkin game&lt;br /&gt;10 Spider Tops&lt;br /&gt;4 Fake Flies&lt;br /&gt;1 Fake Roach&lt;br /&gt;1 Fortune Fish&lt;br /&gt;3 Pumpkin Magnets&lt;br /&gt;6 Grow-A-Skele&lt;br /&gt;4 Candy Blood Bags (should have bought more)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Card and Party Factory:&lt;br /&gt;2 (12 piece) Spooky Surprises&lt;br /&gt;2 Paratroopers&lt;br /&gt;1 Scene Setters&lt;br /&gt;2 Chinese Finger traps&lt;br /&gt;16 Fake Fingers&lt;br /&gt;1 pair of Dice&lt;br /&gt;1 Pinwheel&lt;br /&gt;2 Lip Whistles&lt;br /&gt;10 Springy Rings&lt;br /&gt;1 Squishy eyeball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wal-Mart&lt;br /&gt;1 Cauldron (for drinks)&lt;br /&gt;1 package of Spider Rings&lt;br /&gt;1 package of Finger Puppets&lt;br /&gt;1 package of Vampire Fangs&lt;br /&gt;2 wax teeth&lt;br /&gt;3 packages of construction paper&lt;br /&gt;2 things of glue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games:&lt;br /&gt;Murderer (make pieces of paper for everyone and all blank except one with word murderer on it...the murderer has to wink at people to kill them...and if a person catches someone winking (not at them), they say who the murderer is)&lt;br /&gt;Bobbing for apples/spiders&lt;br /&gt;Treasure hunt&lt;br /&gt;Karaoke&lt;br /&gt;Time Warp/Cha Cha Slide&lt;br /&gt;Hay Ride&lt;br /&gt;(Musical chairs?)&lt;br /&gt;Whose Line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Activities:&lt;br /&gt;Face Painting&lt;br /&gt;Pumpkin Carving Contest&lt;br /&gt;Costume Judging&lt;br /&gt;Jail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any ideas? TELL ME! I mean...just anything, I don't care how stupid it sounds! Just...GAH! NEED IDEAS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112948859094765179?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112948859094765179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112948859094765179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112948859094765179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112948859094765179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/10/items-for-party-just-in-case-anyone.html' title='Items for the party (Just in case anyone wanted to know)'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112948636730212121</id><published>2005-10-16T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T13:12:47.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just not kosher...</title><content type='html'>HULLO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while, hasn't it? Cha, it has. Well...nothing much going on. That's a lie. Might as well catch up since the last...time I posted on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trig: I fucking LOVE Trig. I ROCK at it. My God...it's so much fun. Is it right to have fun in a math class not due to the fact that Walthour is fucking hilarious? It's so enjoyable. Even first thing in the morning it's fun. YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;French: God, I don't know that language at all -snorts loudly- Oh well. Pretty good at the class. Should have high A. Cha. Wish I would really learn it, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choir: Once again...I am good. No -laughs- I'm going to all region on the 5th of November singing "somewhere i have never travelled" (I LURVES this song with all my soul) "John the Revelator" (I loathe this song with all my soul) and "Jubilate Deo" (not the good one and this song is a stinker, too). Looking forward to Christmas concert. Looking forward to solo. Note to self: Get sheet music to "Santa Baby".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creative Writing: We have to write a 30,000 word short story. Yeah. So much fun. Oy -shakes her head- Having a hard time with it. I want my story to be really good. I can honestly picture it as a classic story, you know, like Frankenstein or The Grapes of Wrath and stuff like that. It's about ants -snickers-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English: So. Easy...not..even...funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Computer Business Applications: So. Easy...not...even...funny...times two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drama: MY FAVORITE CLASS! -squees- I love Drama! I got cast in the Senior Play! I'm Opaline and I have a Blanche accent. It's so great. I get to strangle people. Perfect role for me, naturally. I'm just so enthused about this play. I just want it to be the best play ever ever ever ever! CRAP! Forgot to buy a rope. COME VISIT! IT'S ON NOVEMBER 5TH! IT'S WORTH THE FIVE BUCKS! I PROMISE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I'm planning a Halloween party on top of all of this. Slightly stressed out, but not fully. Give me a week. Then I will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what all games we can play. I was thinking of a Treasure Hunt, but I know for a fact that that is difficult. Especially because I love them. That and I'm just a smidge stressed out. Just a smidge. Gimme a second...going outside...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112948636730212121?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112948636730212121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112948636730212121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112948636730212121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112948636730212121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/10/its-just-not-kosher.html' title='It&apos;s just not kosher...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112432086052624531</id><published>2005-08-17T18:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T18:21:00.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-sighs-</title><content type='html'>Yesterday...was awful and today's turning out to be terrible, too. Yesterday...well...the day before yesterday, I had to get off the computer early because I took a lot of sleeping pills, but I only slept for 3 hours, so I was tired all day. I went to go see March of the Penguins, which wasn't really anything special, but was good documentary wise. I expected the theater to be practically empty. I was wrong. The theater was FILLED to the brim with people so old I was surprised they weren't croaking during the movie and with mothers with little bitty children. Now, I don't know what these people expected. Documentaries aren't fucking Disney movies. Little baby penguins DIE. And they show it. Frozen baby penguins, frozen baby penguin eggs, frozen adult penguins, frozen half way adult penguins, and preditors eating adult penguins and baby penguins. It's a documentary. Not a fucking Disney movie. And there was penguin sex. So...everything that wasn't exactly cute and peachy, the old people had a fucking cow about. And I could hear the children and the adults talking LOUD LIKE THIS throughout the whole movie. Personally, I wanted to go there and see a relaxing movie, but I was fucking annoyed the whole time. That and, there were constantly people coming in. I mean, seriously, 30 minutes into an 80 minute movie, there were families coming in, standing in front of me and talking louder than the old codgers in the audience. I mean...stupid people. STUPID people. This is a miniscule theater. Anyone who is smart enough to realize this would realize that this theater only has one set of stairs. But nooooo. The whole fucking family gets in my way, talking as loud as they can, wondering why the hell there aren't any other stairs. I mean...what's the point? It just...pissed me off so much. It was probably the worst movie going experience I've ever had. Ever. -sighs- That isn't a movie for little kids or for old women who think they're seeing a live action Disney movie, okay? It's about a struggle for fucking survival. Survival is for the fittest out there, so yes, things are going to die. It was just awful. And at the end, they had footage of the guys taping the penguins, and these people were standing RIGHT in front of me, waiting to get out, and I couldn't see it. God...so pissed off. And somebody right behind me fell asleep a few minutes into it and was snoring. Luckily, I think someone woke them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I had an hour to blow before I had to pick my mom up. I brought my Harry Potter book with me so I wouldn't get bored, but that book is huge. There was no way I was going to sneak into Books-A-Million with it. So I kept the car on and read for an hour until it started over heating. So, I started her up and started going and some prick who wasn't looking backed out in front of me and didn't even give the little apologetic "Oops, I'm sorry. Didn't see you" wave, but just kinda looked at me with a stupid face. And so I waited for a good 30 seconds (which, I was aggrivated, it felt like a lot longer than that) and started to go. But, when I let off the breaks...it wouldn't go! It started drifting backwards! So I said...okay...I accidentally pushed it into neutral. Looked down...it was on Drive. So I pushed on the breaks (which I had to slam down on to get the car to stop), turn off the car in the middle of the pathway, and start it again. Didn't work. So the last time, I turned it on and just pushed the accelerator and it went enough to get me into a parking space. By then, I was in hysterics. I was cranky, annoyed, tired, and sweaty by the time I called my mom, who told me to go inside. Well...I went in and it turned out that about 30 minutes later, my mom was inside Books-A-Million and it turned out that I'd flooded the engine, but it worked now. It only didn't work for me. She called me from where I was in the children's section reading a copy of the Goblet of Fire (not mine) and told me to meet her in the cafe. Well...I got up, put the book aside and did so. Now, this was adding injury to insult, or whatever the hell the phrase is. We were wearing...the same thing. Completely decked in black. I was so embarrassed. And even worse, some guy named Will (introduced himself since he embarrassed the SHIT out of me) commented on it. Thought it was really funny. Something about the Bobsey twins. And about wanting a shirt just like ours. Yes...not even playing. And...he was nice looking. God...I wanted to just...crawl into a hole and die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I thought that yesterday couldn't have been worse, but today was just added onto it. I woke up, went to the bathroom and watched TV as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I came back into the computer room to get my book and what do I see? My action figures, at least 7 of them, strewn out in the middle of the floor...chewed up. I was so angry I couldn't see. Just crying and sobbing. And to make matters worse, I figured this out. I had put up the garbage that Aayla usually gets into and closed the bathroom door so she couldn't tear anything up in there, so what does she do? She waits until I'm awake, and goes and shoves aside the things I had covering my action figures, takes out a few of them, gnaws a few pieces off and goes and acts like nothing's happened. In spite. GOD! I'm just...I feel awful right now. So...if anyone wants to cheer me up...I'm willing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112432086052624531?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112432086052624531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112432086052624531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112432086052624531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112432086052624531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/sighs.html' title='-sighs-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112393217709630206</id><published>2005-08-13T06:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T06:22:57.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-yawns-</title><content type='html'>It's 6 in the fucking morning. And I can't sleep. Damn it. After the other day staying up all night and passing out at 7, I thought I'd be back on schedule. I'm not. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedra spent the night yesterday. We had a lot of fun. Now I'm stuck on Harry Potter fanfiction. The type I'd told myself I wouldn't read. Damn me. Damn me a lot. Need some fucking Domlando. It'll help. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got through reading what is posted of a story Dedra linked to me...don't remember the name, but it was a Harry Potter fanfic. Oy. It's good. Twisted...in an odd way, but good. And now I'll forever have a Narcissa Malfoy/Harry Potter fetish. DAMN IT! -falls over- Oh well. I'll get over it in a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I stayed up all night cleaning the living room. Four fucking bags of trash it pulled out. Four fucking bags. And from sitting on the floor I've now got pencil shavings up my arse. Lovely. Well...that day...I went to Texarkana with Ami. Yes! I've finally gotten in contact with Ami! I've missed her. Well...she hadn't seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, so I took her. And fell asleep. -dies- I only missed my least favorite part, though. Those damn movie theater seats are so damn uncomfortable. I just missed the boat ride and Augustus Gloop being sucked up. Don't like that part too much. I woke up just in time for the Violet Beaureguard song. I love the Veruca Salt one, by the way. It's so lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels great, though. Since Dedra was over, I had to be clothed, but now I don't. I'm so cooled off. Praise the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to get some "toy" cleaner from Blowfish. I need some. Echikochan needs a cleaning. Ani, not as much. Very loud, it is. Very loud. Sounds like a fucking lawnmower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just paid off my debts to momma. I'm happy to be debt free. Until I find something else for my costume. Ooh...speaking of, if I haven't said already, I got some great Mary Janes at Payless that are like half Mary Jane, half ballet shoe. My favorite. They're great, but I'm not wearing them until Halloween. They'll be comfy, though. I bought a five dollar pair of cheap Mary Janes, and they're my favorite pair of shoes. Except when I get overheated. Boy, do they warm up ones feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much to say here. Just looking at some Chobits wallpapers and wondering who did it on a two part episode of Case Closed. And looking up renaissance clothing in eBay. Because that's what I do when I'm bored. By the way, after I bought one specific part of my costume, I found another one that's ten times better. And cheaper. Pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a new piece of clothing that I like. Spats. They look so great. Perfect for layering. No such thing as too many layers, you know? It just sucks in the summer. Very hot, it is. But I love spats. Look them up, they're wonderful. You just tie them down to your shoe and a whole new hot look is born. It's very cute. But as of right now, far too hot. I'll still try and get one for the fall. I've found some black male ones that measure 11 inches, so that should fit my foot, you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back on the costume, I'm still looking for a purple garter. Not too many around are there? And black ones are far too easy to find; I'm definitely getting purple. It'll match the bustle. Yes, precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy...barely anything on my eBay. So bored. Wonder what I should do. Maybe I should try some sleep. My eyelids are quite heavy. I'm going to be tired tomorrow night, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random note: I want one of those Gothic Lolita Bibles I hear about all the time. I'm pretty sure it's a magazine like FRUiTS, you know? Sounds so cute. Or should I say 'kawaii'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercised today. Quite physically worn out because of it. Not exercising to "Give 'Em Hell, Kid" by My Chemical Romance. So fast my legs nearly came off. Afterwards, I followed with my Chakras and felt so calm that I almost passed out. Wish I would have. Going to bed at 12 would be nice for a change. Didn't even think of those damned sleeping pills we just bought until it would be too late to take them. Like now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose that's it for today. Er...for right now, I guess. I might post again on the blog today. Dunno what I'm going to do. 6 days until school starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Trigonometry - Walthour&lt;br /&gt;2. French - ???&lt;br /&gt;3. Choir - Holley&lt;br /&gt;4. Creative Writing - Schlesselman&lt;br /&gt;5. Advanced English 12 - Bowens&lt;br /&gt;6. Business Applications - Harmon&lt;br /&gt;7. Drama/Speech - Huckabee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a quick thought on each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. God, this sucks. I'm late all the time. Walthour will make me dance to get in. Oh well. It's all my fault. I'm always bitching to myself that math isn't earlier on so I can get it the fuck over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I miss Mrs. Strasner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I miss Mrs. Auld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. YAY! SCHLESSELMAN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. BOO! BOWENS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I so don't want to take Business Applications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT DRAMA! -squees- It's so what I've been looking forward to. Friday I'll be twitching all day until I get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, locker number 319 in the senior hallway. Took four keys to get a locker to open. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture in hallway still looks like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Dykes called me the smartest girl in the school. I'm afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a good way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112393217709630206?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112393217709630206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112393217709630206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112393217709630206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112393217709630206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/yawns.html' title='-yawns-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112348433300865611</id><published>2005-08-08T01:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T01:58:53.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A little something</title><content type='html'>I feel...really bad right now...so I want to write something...anything to cheer myself up with. Earlier I was reading in Jessica's journal how she wrote this...so I decided to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 Things About Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I sometimes get really scared about my future. I just feel like I'm heading in the wrong direction&lt;br /&gt;2.) I daydream constantly, even when I'm upset. I'm not very sure if it's healthy.&lt;br /&gt;3.) Despite what it seems, I really care what people think.&lt;br /&gt;4.) I'm very easily upset.&lt;br /&gt;5.) I dream of being famous. I'd love to be a rockstar. I've wanted to sing since I was 7.&lt;br /&gt;6.) I feel like my dreams will never come true.&lt;br /&gt;7.) I'm very scared of death, mainly Hell. I'm afraid I'll go there sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;8.) I think there is a God...but I sometimes wonder why He does the things He does&lt;br /&gt;9.) I write a lot of fanfics. I'm not particularly ashamed of them, but I feel that someday they'll haunt me.&lt;br /&gt;10.) I can be a bit of a fangirl. I don't think that part of me has ever died out.&lt;br /&gt;11.) Sometimes I think I'm better than anyone else. And I hate that feeling. I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;12.) I get really lonely, especially at night, and I cry because of it. That's why I don't like staying up too late.&lt;br /&gt;13.) I act like a know-it-all, but in reality, I don't know very much about anything.&lt;br /&gt;14.) I wish I didn't have it so easy at school. I mean...it's getting harder now, but I'm still gliding on. I wish I had to struggle.&lt;br /&gt;15.) I wonder if I really should be a writer. I mean, it'd be a nice thing to do on the side, but it's not what I love.&lt;br /&gt;16.) When I don't go anywhere, I don't shower. Or brush my teeth. Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;17.) I don't have very good self-control. At all.&lt;br /&gt;18.) Except when it comes to money.&lt;br /&gt;19.) I have so many things that I love. I wish there were more people who could love them with me.&lt;br /&gt;20.) I'm extremely man-crazy. I'm not even kidding. When I make a comment about a man, I'm usually not exaggerating at all.&lt;br /&gt;21.) I really do think that all men don't want me. I honestly can't picture one wanting me. I always feel like all they want is some little thin thing.&lt;br /&gt;22.) I don't want to be a little thin thing.&lt;br /&gt;23.) I feel a lot more encouraged about my diet and exercising. A size L is only 4 sizes away!&lt;br /&gt;24.) I like to laugh. I laugh easily. Make me laugh. I love it so much.&lt;br /&gt;25.) I really do love my friends, but I have a hard time expressing it.&lt;br /&gt;26.) Whenever I feel an emotion, I'm never able to hide it.&lt;br /&gt;27.) I never want to hide my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;28.) I love my mother very much. She's my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;29.) Sometimes when I get very sad, I picture my mother dead. It scares me so much.&lt;br /&gt;30.) I never want my mother to die. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;31.) I honestly do believe that one should like whatever you like (within reason) because denying things you like is more immature than say, watching cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;32.) Despite this, I still sneak around Books-A-Million with whatever book I'm carrying. I'm quite hesitant to look at that big Star Wars display without someone with me.&lt;br /&gt;33.) I used to read a lot, but I don't very much anymore. That's why I'm starting to make myself read. It makes me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;34.) I HATE being unknowledgeable. I have to know everything or it drives me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;35.) I compulsively read Yahoo! Oddly Enough News when I can't find anything to do online.&lt;br /&gt;36.) It takes me a while to read a story. It's not because I dislike your story or you, it's because...I dunno. I'm off like that.&lt;br /&gt;37.) I love my father, step-mother, sisters, and Uncle George even though I criticize them often.&lt;br /&gt;38.) I hate...let me reiterate this...I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HATE &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;my stretch marks.&lt;br /&gt;39.) Someday when I'm older, I want to have a baby.&lt;br /&gt;40.) Marriage has always been a fantasy for me.&lt;br /&gt;41.) I obsessively collect action figures. Dunno why. They're pretty and everything, but I don't really play with them. Just chew on them.&lt;br /&gt;42.) I fear rejection more than you'll ever know.&lt;br /&gt;43.) I tend to exaggerate a lot. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;44.) Lately, I'm so glad I've gotten into Harry Potter. I feel like I've connected with Dedra. It makes me feel so much more full to have someone to relate to. She has the Passion that I've not seen in many people.&lt;br /&gt;45.) I'm really not a good friend.&lt;br /&gt;46.) I hate talking on the telephone.&lt;br /&gt;47.) I hate talking on IM.&lt;br /&gt;48.) I prefer to talk to someone to their face. It's so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;49.) I seem like this huge Lord of the Rings aficionado, but I'm really not.&lt;br /&gt;50.) I love Star Wars, but I'm not THAT into it.&lt;br /&gt;51.) My likes fade quite easily. Even though I keep a huge list of things I love, I seem to love one more when something happens with them. (I.e. Love Star Wars, but get really excited about it and read all about it when the movie comes out...another example...Like Harry Potter...but don't care too much about it until the new book comes out)&lt;br /&gt;52.) I really suck at videogames. Pokemon's the only one that's come to me naturally.&lt;br /&gt;53.) I wish there really were Pokemon. I think I'd be less lonely if I had a Charizard to cuddle.&lt;br /&gt;54.) I read romance novels. And enjoy them. Kiss my ass.&lt;br /&gt;55.) I enjoy watching pornography.&lt;br /&gt;56.) I own two vibrators. (One is very loud...oy)&lt;br /&gt;57.) I have spent about thirty bucks on a personalized romance novel about me and Dominic Monaghan. Yes. I love the book. But am quite ashamed of it.&lt;br /&gt;58.) I have a very quick temper.&lt;br /&gt;59.) When I get mad or frustrated, I pull on my own hair.&lt;br /&gt;60.) I have a slight oral fixation, but different than what it sounds. I enjoy oral pain. As in...pain in my mouth. I've bitten through my lip, sliced my gum, and angered quite a few sores in this odd fixation.&lt;br /&gt;61.) I really do have a thing about men's hair. Honestly.&lt;br /&gt;62.) I am a bit of a personality sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;63.) I feel like I'm never taken seriously, and it's because I can hardly ever be serious for long around too many people.&lt;br /&gt;64.) I always feel the need to entertain.&lt;br /&gt;65.) I always want attention. There are only rare times when I don't.&lt;br /&gt;66.) I feel a lot of times like I'm too picky or finicky.&lt;br /&gt;67.) I wonder who all is going to read this.&lt;br /&gt;68.) I love being loved.&lt;br /&gt;69.) I've no idea why the hell I name my body parts. And if I ever meet ANYONE who I've named it after. I won't tell them. Except for Paul McCartney if I don't pass out the instant I see him. Which I will.&lt;br /&gt;70.) I named my breasts John and Paul (left one's John, right one's Paul), asscheeks Merry and Pippin (left one Merry, right one Pippin), my computer Dominic, and my truck Strider.&lt;br /&gt;71.) I hate the way I act around guys. I've had such a need in my life for male attention, that when I get it, I act stupid. Even if it's from people I can't stand (a.k.a. Cameron Stark). It's not THAT terrible, but GOD if I don't hate myself afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;72.) I usually have cleavage because I want attention. Male. Attention. I feel that the rest of me is unattractive so that I have to have SOMETHING a guy would want. So breasts is it. I hate that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;73.) I have really odd breasts. They aren't round. They're almost oval. And they hate each other. Like fucking magnets these two are. And they aren't exactly perky.&lt;br /&gt;74.) I have having my hair up. When I look in the mirror, it feels like I look like a man.&lt;br /&gt;75.) I love shoes, but the majority of the time, I just want something comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;76.) I honestly don't know if I want to wait until marriage for sex. Even though, it's quite likely I will.&lt;br /&gt;77.) Which means I'll be a virgin all my life.&lt;br /&gt;78.) I wonder about sex a whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;79.) I love Pepsi, yes, but sometimes I just crave water.&lt;br /&gt;80.) I love dressing up. And not just for the attention it gets me. I love pretending that I'm someone else.&lt;br /&gt;81.) In all honesty, I'm glad I am me, but there are things that I would like to drastically change.&lt;br /&gt;82.) I can't stay in one place for too long. I used to be a homebody, but if I'm not out of the house at least once every four days, I start to shift into a depression.&lt;br /&gt;83.) I'm very nervous/excited about drama. I would love to act. I hope I'm good.&lt;br /&gt;84.) I hate being wrong.&lt;br /&gt;85.) I pride myself on being different and on my shock factor.&lt;br /&gt;86.) I listen to a lot of music that I'm slightly ashamed of.&lt;br /&gt;87.) I wish everyone would see me as very mysterious and interesting. Intreguing, even.&lt;br /&gt;88.) I hate being the best friend and never the one who someone is interested in.&lt;br /&gt;89.) I have never had a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;90.) I have never been kissed.&lt;br /&gt;91.) I don't wear underwear. And I wouldn't want to.&lt;br /&gt;92.) I'm a nudist at heart and it runs in my family. Knock first when you come to my house unless you want to get flashed.&lt;br /&gt;93.) Even though I enjoy being in the nude, I hate my body.&lt;br /&gt;94.) Sometimes I wonder if I've ever experienced a real orgasm.&lt;br /&gt;95.) I've noticed that a lot of my body is desensitized.&lt;br /&gt;96.) I bite my fingernails because it gives me something to do, keeps my fingernails clean, and because I hate the way my fingers look with nails.&lt;br /&gt;97.) I pick my nose. But I do NOT eat it. That...is nasty.&lt;br /&gt;98.) I bite my toenails.&lt;br /&gt;99.) I pee in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;100.) I feel a whole lot better than when I started this thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112348433300865611?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112348433300865611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112348433300865611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112348433300865611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112348433300865611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/little-something.html' title='A little something'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112337691054721156</id><published>2005-08-06T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T20:08:30.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tehehe</title><content type='html'>I love this song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well don't I look pretty walking down the street./In the best damn dress I own?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-giggle-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112337691054721156?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112337691054721156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112337691054721156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112337691054721156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112337691054721156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/tehehe.html' title='Tehehe'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112312011145810424</id><published>2005-08-03T20:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T20:48:43.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A little test I took</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;table style="BACKGROUND: #eeeeee; COLOR: black" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="#eeeeee" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#eeeeee"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Advanced Global Personality Test Results&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="4" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="#eeeeee" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table style="BACKGROUND: #dddddd; COLOR: black" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="#eeeeee" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Extraversion&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;73%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Stability&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Orderliness&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;40%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Altruism&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;43%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Interdependence&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;50%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Intellectual&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;83%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Mystical&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;76%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Artistic&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;90%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Religious&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;83%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hedonism&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;10%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Materialism&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;70%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Narcissism&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Adventurousness&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Work ethic&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;43%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Self absorbed&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;56%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Conflict seeking&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;70%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Need to dominate&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;90%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table style="BACKGROUND: #dddddd; COLOR: black" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Romantic&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;90%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Avoidant&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;16%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Anti-authority&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;63%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Wealth&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;36%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Dependency&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;30%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Change averse&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;63%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Cautiousness&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;76%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Individuality&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;90%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sexuality&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;76%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Peter pan complex&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;63%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Physical security&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;76%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Physical Fitness&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;10%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Histrionic&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;70%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Paranoia&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;50%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Vanity&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;56%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Hypersensitivity&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;83%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Female cliche&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="30"&gt;63%&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;Take&lt;/a&gt; Free Advanced Global Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;personality&lt;/a&gt; tests by similarminds.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112312011145810424?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112312011145810424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112312011145810424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112312011145810424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112312011145810424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/little-test-i-took.html' title='A little test I took'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112303065896700092</id><published>2005-08-02T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T19:57:38.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know what?</title><content type='html'>I'm really getting obsessive about this whole costuming thing. It's almost becoming a problem. -dies- All I want to do is to complete my costume. I'm obsessively using eBay and I just...GAH! I suppose it's out of boredom. I need to write then. Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I felt like shit the other day, so I didn't post my review of Sky High that I finally saw with my mom. So...here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that this was the most predictable movie I've ever seen. I figured out the majority of the ending by not even the middle of the movie, and trust me, I NEVER figure out anything. Definately a little kids' movie. But with high school problems. Hmm...bad idea. Well...I did enjoy the movie. It was cute. Reminded me of a Disney X-Men...but then again honey...stick with the originals. Instead of having such characters as Storm, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Cyclops, and the like, we had a little kid whose name I honestly don't remember who has trouble finding his powers, his friend (whose name I also don't remember) who is the flower power-esque hippy who doesn't believe in conforming to society, loves animals, and who has a crush on this stupid ass boy when she could be like me, lusting after the really hot guy who made the movie worth it. Okay...just looked it up. Name's Will and the girl's name is Layla. How I forgot this I'll never know. Well...it had a wonderful cast...I'll definately say that. The chemistry and the fun they had on set was very obvious, which made the acting impecable. I mean...it appealed to adults (my mom lusts after Kurt Russel for reasons I'll never know) and the younger ones. Even had a little snicker at Lynda Carter's sake. Her little "Who do you think I am? Wonder Woman?" comment was quite funny. If you don't know why it's funny...go to &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com"&gt;IMDB&lt;/a&gt; and look up Lynda Carter. For God's sake.&lt;br /&gt;Well...it isn't exactly a blockbuster...nor should it be, but it's a cute movie. A good renter. Definately a good renter. I did enjoy it, though. Very cute -grins- Obvious, but cute. And the 'bully' who ends up becoming Will Stronghold's friend. Worth the admission price ladies! OY! His name is Steven Strait (real name, not the movie name) and he's a sexy bitch. As I've already posted. My God...squirmed the whole movie. The hair! In that little bun thing! -fans herself- If I had a power it would definately be his. He could make fire with his hands. -fans herself- Oy...sexy bitch, I tell you. There is only one man who makes me squirm that much while watching a movie and that's Hayden Christensen. Only because I have to pee. No! -laughs- Kidding...I luffs t3h Hayden -dies- But it is true. I always have to pee during a George Lucas movie -dies- Which is off topic. But after seeing this movie, I had to go like...suck on an ice cube or 50. He was just...my...my God. I had to bite my lip to keep from making very inappropriate noises in a children's movie. Oy...-fans herself some more- I neeeeeeed...a cold shower...coooooooold shower...God...-takes a deep breath- -lets it out- Okay...I'll be all right. I'm goosebumping...you know it's bad when I goosebump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...and something I discovered last night when I was bored. If you ever feel that life is dull...close your eyes...and imagine how it would feel to know sight and then have it leave you. Stay that way for about 30-40 minutes...then open your eyes and take in how beautiful the world truly is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112303065896700092?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112303065896700092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112303065896700092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112303065896700092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112303065896700092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/you-know-what.html' title='You know what?'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112292207145896207</id><published>2005-08-01T13:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T13:47:51.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OH MY GOD!</title><content type='html'>-is in so much pain that she can't breathe- Look...at...&lt;a href="http://gprime.net/flash.php/thetrueadventureofchadswimmeet"&gt;THIS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112292207145896207?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112292207145896207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112292207145896207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112292207145896207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112292207145896207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/08/oh-my-god.html' title='OH MY GOD!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112286246351777639</id><published>2005-07-31T21:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-31T21:14:23.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One link</title><content type='html'>By the way...everyone...FUCK OFF...I saw him first -dies- No...but today...I watched Sky High...and I was...very oddly attracted to one character. I mean...throbbing...shifting...COLD WATER! The only person I can say I've ever come close to feeling that way about is Hayden. And that's saying a lot. He's a &lt;a href="http://www.modellaunch.com/face/article.php?id=1000077"&gt;sexy bitch&lt;/a&gt;...yes he is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112286246351777639?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112286246351777639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112286246351777639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112286246351777639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112286246351777639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/one-link.html' title='One link'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112277965344916665</id><published>2005-07-30T21:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T22:14:13.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so tired...it's not even funny</title><content type='html'>Jesus Christ I never want to shop. Again. I'm doing it all from eBay from now on. Christ. Shopping 'til I drop doesn't even describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...this morning started it all. I was showing my mom how I do push ups (because I suck), and I actually did them correctly, but all 275 pounds of Jamie really hurt her arms. I can't even lift them. Not even playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then...it's to the Waffle House. I tell you, my stomach hasn't been that greasy since...well...right now, I suppose...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We WERE going to go see The Island/Sky High, but we shopped. God, why me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Dillard's because of a sale. I've never seen that many bras in my life. You know, I've discovered that bra makers believe that women have perfectly round breasts. And that they have no bloody idea what a "C" cup is. The last one I tried on was an A. I so completely fell out of it. I felt so large breasted. I enjoy that feeling. And I got a see-through one. YAY! It's so cute! And then I got like...a nightgown and a night "outfit"...by then I was pretty tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Cato's. About passed out. Was looking for a suit top. Didn't find shit. But momma did. My GOD! I just about passed out on the floor. But I found a vibrating nipple clamp in SOMEBODY'S purse. She never used it. It's mine now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Wal-Mart. TWO HOURS! My GOD! I was so weak that I couldn't even lift up a notebook of paper! I mean...GAH! I can't even describe the torture this was for me. It's just...evil...just evil...didn't even get to see a movie -pouts-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112277965344916665?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112277965344916665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112277965344916665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112277965344916665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112277965344916665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-so-tiredits-not-even-funny.html' title='I&apos;m so tired...it&apos;s not even funny'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112251368189763473</id><published>2005-07-27T20:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T20:21:21.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My desk is too messy...</title><content type='html'>I so need to get something to store all the stuff I keep on my computer desk. Guess I'll have to do it tomorrow. Or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm planning on going to Cato's to go look at suit tops for my costume. Because I can't find the right one on &lt;a href="http://www.ebay.com"&gt;eBay&lt;/a&gt;. I hope my costume's good. I want it to be extremely outrageous. That's my favorite type of costuming...just outrageous stuff is so great. Original outrageous stuff. I loved being Jack Sparrow last year, especially the attention I got from it. Now that I'm more aware of the costuming community and of better designing tips and where to get more quality goods for less. I'm actually (eventually) going to try and redo my Jack Sparrow costume. I love it so much. I just want it perfected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedra and I have started planning Whose Line parties. At Ashley (Taylor, not Tucker)'s birthday party, we had so much fun playing Whose Line, so Dedra and I are planning lots of them. So far, we've gotten these games:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Superheroes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;World's Worst&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Scenes from A Hat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whose Line&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Song Titles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hillbilly Dating Videos (Hats)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sound Effects&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Newscasters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Foreign Film Dub&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Changed Letter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Film, Theater, and TV Styles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Props&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If You Know What I Mean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Questions Only&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Film Dub&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Green Screen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dating Game&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Party Quirks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Millionaire Game&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Infomercial&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Irish Drinking Song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Moving People&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If anyone can think of any that don't involve singing (Irish Drinking Song is relatively easy), please tell me. Just comment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well...we're thinking that it'll be at my house since I just cleaned the computer room and it's a really big room. It'll be so much fun. There'll be a host and then four contestants (Ryan, Colin, Wayne, and random other person), and then the audience. Hopefully we'll have enough people. Last time it was so great. I hope we can do it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Didn't do much today. Just woke up at 6, fell asleep until 10. Watched some TV until I passed out and had dreams about spitting. Woke up and I had spit on the bed. Lovely. Got on the computer. The end. Oh...and sometime in between that, I picked up Aayla's poop. Just...completely great, I know. Such an exciting day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112251368189763473?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112251368189763473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112251368189763473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112251368189763473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112251368189763473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-desk-is-too-messy.html' title='My desk is too messy...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112243928625220460</id><published>2005-07-26T23:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T23:41:26.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>G-Strings and Pasties</title><content type='html'>Today was an interesting day. Well...by interesting, I mean I actually got out of the house and have something to talk to you about besides the fact that summer's almost over and how I don't WANNA GO BACK TO SCHOOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at say...6 in the morning to drive Momma to work on my request.  Yeah...I wanted to go see a movie or something. Came home and passed out (after playing with the dogs for a while). Woke up and it was about 3...I couldn't believe it. Watched Case Closed, took a shower, and went on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momma and I decided to see Fantastic Four and here's my review:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very honestly glad this movie was short. I don't think I could have taken much more of Johnny Storm's cocky ass...and...well...his ass. Er...if you're not big on action movies...it's worth it to see this &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm0262635/"&gt;Chris Evans&lt;/a&gt; guy wearing nothing but a g-string. -fans herself- My GOD! I mean...when he "flamed on" it was obvious the boy was wearing a g-string! And I was looking. I am sorry, but I DO have ovaries you know...and...he's rather nice looking. -fans herself some more- Nice abs. Really nice ones. And...and...-fans herself- Give him hair and I'd maul him. Nice ass, too...God. I mean...in that skin tight suit. He wasn't wearing anything under that. God...I just...God! GOD! -faints- If I ever saw that man...it'd be "LOOK OUT! -points behind him-" "-turns around-" "-ogles- -drools all over herself-" I mean...DAMN! But the guy I naturally liked the most was Ben Grimm a.k.a. The Thing. I've always liked him. But the actor who played him...was nice sized. I mean...he didn't exactly look bad in some of those shirtless (non-Thing) scenes. And as it turns out. He's Brad Pitt's age! HA! Damn it...I'm liking older men. SOMEBODY HELP ME! I'm just...completely off...I either like 41 year olds. 30 or 31 year olds. 28 year olds. 24 year olds. Or like...KIDS YOUNGER THAN ME! GAH! -falls over- I'm not right in the HEAD I TELL YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all in all, I found it a very refreshingly made super hero movie. I was completely prepared for the cliched Batman/Spiderman moments of "BUT I DON'T WANNA BE A SUPERHERO! I WANT...MY MOMMY! -sucks thumb and curls into the fetal position-", you know? But this added a new light to me. It was a lot more light hearted. Even with the Thing's condition. I mean...okay...I got so pissed off at his wife for leaving him. I will tell you this. If my man turned into a big rock thingie...I'd support him ALL the fucking way. Besides...I'd want to see what his penis looked like. Just to answer a question I've been pondering. But...it was good. Very short, though. The battle with Dr. Doom lacked a climactic quality, though and the little after credits thing obviously meaning that there's a sequel to be made. The romance between the Invisible Girl and Mr. Fantastic (Reed and Sue) was very believeable. But I have to admit that my favorite part was  (SPOILER AHEAD!!!!!!) At the very end when Ben ended up with the blind girl in the bar who liked him for who he was...I about cried. That was so great. Beautiful job Stan Lee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...driving home mother dearest and I got into a conversation about nudity, particularly about the whole Janet Jackson boobie Super Bowl Halftime crap. I personally think that it is completely and totally stupid that certain parts of our anatomy are despised. I mean...we are the way we are. All women have breasts. All women have vaginas. All men have penii. So...-shrugs- What does it matter? I believe that God made us the way we are, so what's to be ashamed about? Adam and Eve, before they were sinful, ran around in the nude all day. We should NOT be ashamed of our bodies. And also, isn't it worse to go about in barely there Brazilian bikini bottoms and pasties? I mean...I honestly believe in a lot of the stuff George Carlin says, particularly about censorship. If you're going to say fuck, just say it and let people hear it...because if you say fuck and it's bleeped out (i.e. f%$@!!!! or f***!!!!), it gives the same implication. But, since it's something that we're "not allowed" to hear or something that is considered naughty or vulgar, we tend to think about it a whole lot more than if you just fucking said the word. Same thing with clothing. If you're gonna hang out, hang it ALL out, women AND men alike. So nah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, I came into the bathroom to get Aayla and oh my God. The whole bathroom was torn up and covered in dog feces. So naturally, I got to clean it (Momma cleaned a lot of it, which I'm quite thankful for) and got to bathe Aayla since she had it on her feet. Lemme tell you...Aayla...HATES...baths. But...she was actually quite good this time, and only tried to jump out a handfull of times instead of everything three seconds. And then after that (and a wine bottle full of water later), I got to help pull the stitches out of Rosie. He may be a fluffy wimpy boy looking cat, but that is the manliest cat I've ever met. I held onto him, and petted him on the head as momma took the stitches out. He didn't...even...fucking...feel them. I mean...the vet said that when he got a shot that he didn't even flinch. He's such a hard ass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also...I'm starting to consider colleges. I got a message from &lt;a href="http://www.baylor.edu"&gt;Baylor University&lt;/a&gt; and I like them a lot. After I go to Texarkana A&amp;amp;M, I definately will have to consider them. It's in Waco, Texas, a good 90 minutes down from Dallas. A good distance away, but not too far away, you know? Sounds great...but college so scares me right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112243928625220460?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112243928625220460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112243928625220460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112243928625220460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112243928625220460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/g-strings-and-pasties.html' title='G-Strings and Pasties'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112234831904025357</id><published>2005-07-25T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T22:25:19.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Thing that PISSES Me Off</title><content type='html'>WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SHIT WITH JOHNNY'S "WILLY WONKA" BEING JUST LIKE MICHAEL JACKSON? HUH? I FUCKING DON'T GET IT! It just...it pisses me off so much that it just...makes me see red. I mean...no offense to Michael Jackson at all...but what the people who say such things are suggesting is that he's the "alledged" Michael Jackson who "sleeps" with children. And Willy Wonka being anything but pure pisses me off. It just...I can't explain it. I just...I have nothing against Michael Jackson...but he so wasn't acting like Michael Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had a weird voice, yes. A weird CHILDLIKE voice. Michael Jackson has a high voice. Britney Spears has a high voice. My fucking DOG has a high voice. But that doesn't mean that they're childlike voices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is him being very pale like Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson got himself fucked over whilst having plastic surgery. Willy Wonka...hasn't seen the sun in 15 fucking years! And if you notice, he had a greyish tint to his face, suggesting lack of sunlight. HE'S NOT MICHAEL JACKSON! And besides...Johnny Depp...is a sexy bitch. Michael Jackson...was a sexy bitch, but is very scary looking now. WHERE'S THE CONNECTION? GAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing...think about it. Johnny did this movie for his kids, Jack, Lily Rose, and Tim Burton. (Kidding about the last one) He did it for the same reason he did Pirates. So his kids would be able to see him on screen. His whole movie resume consists of very adult-oriented movies (or at least older teenagers). C'mon..."From Hell", "the Ninth Gate", "Ed Wood", "Before Night Falls" (-giggles at t3h Bon Bon-), "Donnie Brasco", "the Man Who Cried", "The Astronaut's Wife", "Nick of Time", "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", "Don Juan DeMarco", "Sleepy Hollow"...the list goes on and on. How many of those are kids movies? Lemme go and count. NONE! Absolutely none! Not even "Benny &amp; Joon"...you have to at least be a teenager to understand the conflict in it. He wants to be a character for his kids. He's so amused that his little girl doesn't think he's an actor. She says "My daddy's a pirate!" So naturally, Willy Wonka was for his kids. Do you honestly think he'd try to be Michael Jackson...FOR HIS KIDS? What? Is he trying to convince them to have a sleepover at the Neverland Ranch? I THINK NOT! GAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also...another thing that pisses me off. The last place I read this from was a Texarkana Gazette. And...it just pisses me off..."His masterpiece was Captain Jack Sparrow". How much money you wanna bet that this person has only seen PotC and Willy Wonka? HOW DO YOU KNOW HE'S A GOOD ACTOR IF YOU'VE SEEN HIM TWICE? Especially in huge blockbusters. Don't trust them. They're shifty fuckers, they are, those big blockbusters. They make Ben Affleck seem like a good actor. And Colin Farrell. And Orli with armor. GAH! I mean...to truly understand his genius...his gift for acting...you have to see him in a few different characters. Willy Wonka wasn't his best...since it seemed to have a little of his other movies (Ed Wood and Hunter S. Thompson [rest their souls] to name a few) in it. You have to see how he morphs into his characters...how brilliant he is. He's never Johnny Depp when you see his movies. He's Don Juan DeMarco...he's Icabod Crane...he's Sands...he's Bon Bon...he's Roux...he's Gilbert Grape, Sam, Edward Scissorhands, Cry-Baby Walker...he's Captain Jack Sparrow. That's what's so wonderful about his performance...and it pains me that his genius is compared to an alledged child molester. He's a great actor. I mean...even his performance of Willy Wonka has so many layers. He's an insecure child who's been kept on his own. He acts childish because he's never grown up, and he hates other children because so does a selfish child. Makes fun of them to hide his own insecurities. Rejoices in their downfalls. Smiles upon likenesses of himself in Charlie (the loving of candy, not the selfish bit). He's a wonderful actor. Truly one of the very best. If not the best. I don't think I've ever seen an actor as good as he is. But then again...whose career is interesting enough to watch as closely? Nobody. That's who.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112234831904025357?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112234831904025357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112234831904025357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112234831904025357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112234831904025357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/one-thing-that-pisses-me-off.html' title='One Thing that PISSES Me Off'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112234479735670003</id><published>2005-07-25T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T21:26:37.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Note About the Guy at the Movies</title><content type='html'>I so forgot to add the funniest part!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That guy I told you about...that one part in the movie where Veruca goes to get herself a "sk-wur-wul"...and Willy Wonka says "Don't touch that squirrel's nuts!" He laughed so hard. I gave him a look. His laugh was that of "-deep 'manly' voice- HA HA! That's so funny because I've got &lt;em&gt;testicles&lt;/em&gt;! HA HA!" -dies giggling-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112234479735670003?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112234479735670003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112234479735670003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112234479735670003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112234479735670003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/another-note-about-guy-at-movies.html' title='Another Note About the Guy at the Movies'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112231956015173798</id><published>2005-07-25T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T14:26:00.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Believe...</title><content type='html'>That I slept for 18 hours yesterday! Oh my God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...the night before last...I couldn't sleep at all. I mean...I went to bed at about 4:30...and had to wake up at 8. So I was pretty tired...but not really. I mean...I didn't feel it. Well...went to church and helped mother dearest with her Sunday School class (which got me out of "my" Sunday School class) and read the whole church time. Ella Enchanted for the FOURTH time...I thank you. Well...after that we went and ate...and with the Youth Group went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...which is the only reason I was up. I enjoyed it immensely. I see that I was much too harsh on it the first time...and by trying not to overly critique it...I had that warm fuzzy feeling that I lacked on the first try. Well...Ben, Christy, Mom, and Sade all sat lower than I did...I sat at the very top with Mariah...and with all the Wonka bars that I had bought beforehand...hehe...and there was this guy next to me. And he kept saying the most OBVIOUS things. My GOD! I mean...the preview for "the Corpse Bride" came on...and I was squeeing and giggling to Mariah about it...and it's playing "the Nightmare Before Christmas" music (because, no duh, Tim Burton movie and they haven't gotten the music done yet) and the guy says "That looks like that one movie 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'" -rolls eyes- GOD! And then...just the most obvious things! Like "That's Christopher Lee." "-hits herself in the head-" And stuff like that...GAH! But I still love that little Veruca Salt...or at least the girl who plays her. She honestly has the most adorable accent I've ever heard. It's hard for me to hate her. I just love the way she says "squirrel". It's not like I've heard it...as "skwirrul" it's "sk-wuh-wrul". SO CUTE! I giggle every time she says "I don't want just any "sk-wuh-wrul"...I want a trained "sk-wuh-wrul"." -giggle- I'm off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well after much bitching about Arwen...we went home and I was just...so...I can't even explain how I felt. I was angry, I was frustrated, I was crushed...I found my Jack Sparrow wig...on the floor...ravaged by that dog of mine. I was just so angry...just so mad...I left her alone, though. She's only a dog, she doesn't know better. And I just calmed down in bed so that I wouldn't do anything that I'd regret later. That little chocolate donutz thing helped a lot. -smiles- Well...I forgave her...but the next thing I know...I passed out. I mean...I woke up an hour ago. At one in the morning. I got home at about 6:30. Fell asleep at around 7. I can't believe I did that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I feel so sorry about is Jess. I mean...we got into a tiff recently and what I did to her (which I don't regret...because she hurt my feelings) is ignore her so I wouldn't say something that I'd regret. I wouldn't get online...I wouldn't call her. I didn't want to speak to her. And I didn't get online last night. So naturally, she probably thinks I'm mad at her (which I'm not). But I did have a dream about her. I dreamt about flying up to NC to see her...and I was outside of her house...and we were talking on the phone and we waved at each other before she invited me in. Her father was weird looking. She looked exactly like she does, but her sister was much...different...as was her father. He was very old looking...very grey in the hair, you know? He looked very worn down...but I honestly don't think that's what he looks like. Well...she invited me in...told her sister and mother who I was...but told her father that I was some other name...I thought it was Leia...or something like that...and that I'd be staying for a day and a half. -shrugs- I remember eating pasta...and that her father cut in line and almost ate all of it first. I flew back home the next day...and went to school...where I accidentally brought my home phone. Yeah...weird, huh? And not only the home phone...it was attached to its phone cord. My God...it's deja vu. I've so had that dream before. And it was wound around the school (Lockesburg school, but with De Queen teachers, as per usual) and I had to unwind it. Without getting caught by Mr. Greene. I remember since I was absent that day I had to go to Mr. Dykes class (which was my teacher from Lockesburg, Mr. Sweeten's class) and get my homework whilst he was discussing something with...a kid. I'm pretty sure it was Mathis...but -shrugs- I don't really remember. And then I had to go and unwind the cord. My mom called me in the computer lab...on my cell phone and on the home phone...-shakes her head- It was weird...I imagine this was about 11...because when I checked the phone messages...Jess called at about 11. Well...I unwound it...(with some help from my new Drama/Speech teacher Ms. Huckabee to avoid Mr. Greene) and went home in Strider. Driving like a crazy person might I add. I think this was before (or was supposed to be before) I visited Jess. And when I went back to school it was covered in snow. Snowy as hell, I might add. And I had class, but I don't remember it. All I remember was running through the snow as fast as I could to get to Strider. And then I got home and it turned out that whoever was there taking me to the airport (I don't think it was mom) was a bad witch (yeah...that caught me too) and I was like...the Harry Potter figure...and blah blah blah blah blah. And then something about Jay Leno/Mr. Schlesselman re-creating the Beatles (with me in it...and with five members) for some American Idol-esque show. -shakes her head- Weird, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112231956015173798?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112231956015173798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112231956015173798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112231956015173798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112231956015173798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-cant-believe.html' title='I Can&apos;t Believe...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112216950862185216</id><published>2005-07-23T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T20:45:08.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Plug</title><content type='html'>THIS IS &lt;a href="http://crazybandnerd.blogspot.com/"&gt;BROPHY'S BLOG&lt;/a&gt;!  GO TO IT BITCHES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112216950862185216?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112216950862185216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112216950862185216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112216950862185216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112216950862185216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/random-plug.html' title='Random Plug'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112216936376925475</id><published>2005-07-23T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T20:42:43.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oy, Today's Been Dirty</title><content type='html'>With two "r"s even. -sighs- Well...today was cleaning day in the Hilts household. We got to clean the computer room. And DAMN if it doesn't look 300% better! I'm very happy about it. Everything's all spick and span...well...as much as it can be...for one day's work. We're not completely done, but we will be next week. I'ts so great to have everything organized. It's all feug shui, you know? It makes the room feel better. I have literally 48 action figures. LotR action figures. I counted. Hehe. I'm a big dork. Including my Italian Faramir. I got him straight from Italy. So his penis is bigger -dies- No...just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't do much but clean today. Woke up fairly early about 10. But I passed out at about 3 because mah tummeh hurt. Um...I found all sorts of shit that I didn't think I had anymore. Tons of CDs and floppy disks and pictures. I even saw some of me with my Grandpa Perkins. That's so great. And my mom found my favorite Pokemon disk...Pokemon Red. My first Gameboy game ever! I lurves mah Charizard on there! SQUEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I might as well write it because I'm thinking it. My mom found a letter from my Dad with this new address...(his street name is Derr Street...hehe) and I'm really thinking about writing him a letter. I want to visit up there next summer. I don't want to live under his roof, though. He's a stubborn ass and doesn't listen (not even playing) and I know he won't understand this...but I want to show myself as an independent fully grown person. And in my opinion, driving (or flying) up there and getting a hotel room for myself, by myself shows a little bit of maturity. Besides, I'll be 18 next year. I'll be fucking legal! -pauses- Note to self...stalk Brad Pitt...er...anyway. I really want to go up there. I miss my sisters like crazy. It's gotten to the point where I dream about them all the time. I mean...I just can't quit thinking about them, I miss them so much. Plus, I'd love to show them that I can take them places and all sorts of things that they could never do with me before. And besides, if I want to take my sex toys up there, I'm definately going to have to have my own room. Plus...I can't STAND to live under the same roof as my stepmother. She bitches about everything I do. I've always been the 'good' kid...the 'quiet' kid. You know? I just keep to myself a lot when I'm up there and try not to interfere, but I still get bitched at because Daddy bitches at the girls. Okay...stopping there. This is a happy blog, not a bitching one. But...I think I'm mature enough to get myself a hotel room and drive up there (IN STRIDER! -has a cow-). I want him to see me as an adult. That I can do what I want when I want. I'm not a little girl anymore, and I need him to fully see it. And he won't until I prove myself. I'm not even sure if he will then. -shakes her head- My mother married my father to change him. I suppose I really shouldn't try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the hell am I tasting wine? Oh...apple juice. Reminds me of wine. -shakes her head- I'm weird, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I suppose that's it for right now...I'll post when ah'm bored enough. Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112216936376925475?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112216936376925475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112216936376925475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112216936376925475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112216936376925475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/oy-todays-been-dirty.html' title='Oy, Today&apos;s Been Dirty'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112210174696921761</id><published>2005-07-23T01:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T02:00:09.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Booty Man</title><content type='html'>I just felt that this song is so special...that I ought to share the lyrics with you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Booty Man&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;by Tim Wilson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look at that booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Show me the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gimme the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Back up the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I need the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I like the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, what a booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Shakin' that booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I saw the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lord, what a booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bring on the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Give up the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lovin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Round booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Down for the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Huntin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chasin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Casin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gettin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Beautiful booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Smokin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Talk to the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;More booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fine booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All about the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Big ol' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sears booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Mazin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll take the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Where's the booty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Stare at the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Walkin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Touchin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who's got the booty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabbin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rubbin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lovin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Huggin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Kissin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Holdin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Watchin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Kickin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sleepin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Screamin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Harder booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Softer booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sweeter booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sour booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;New booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Used booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Whose booty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sister's booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yo momma's booty!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cookin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mean booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Good luck with the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Foreign booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Home booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Road booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Found booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Covered booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bare booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sweaty booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Powder that booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bad booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sadder booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wide booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wider booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Double wide booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Live for the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yell at the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Suin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Scared of the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Spencered booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cheap booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Discount booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rented booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Leashed booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sellin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Workin' booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Easy booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sleazy booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Greazy booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Need a lot more booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wet booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dry booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hope that one's my booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pretty booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Petted booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Little bitty booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Beautiful booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Caressing the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dissing the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Missin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Messin' with the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh what a wonderful booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Powerful booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Findin' the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gimme the booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wake up booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Breakfast booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lunch booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Supper booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dinner booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Spencered booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cheap booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Buffet booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hot booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cold booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take out booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Delivery booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty, booty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112210174696921761?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112210174696921761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112210174696921761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112210174696921761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112210174696921761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/booty-man.html' title='Booty Man'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112210062537996084</id><published>2005-07-23T01:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T01:37:05.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PVC</title><content type='html'>You know what...talking about PVC with Brophy makes me twitch! I luffs the PVC! It's so great...it's just...loverly -twitches again- I WANT PVC! PPPPPPPPVVVVVVVCCCCC! GAAAAH! -twitches- I found these great shoes...and they're white with that little red nurse's cross...and I have a slight kink for that...and...it was PVC...and...and...-twitches- Found more stuff...PVC! -is having an attack- GAAAAAH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112210062537996084?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112210062537996084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112210062537996084' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112210062537996084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112210062537996084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/pvc.html' title='PVC'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112209349396917162</id><published>2005-07-22T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T23:38:13.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Solution to the Dilemma</title><content type='html'>Now...I've thought long and hard...and I've come up with a costume! YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't going to be a drag queen as planned...because the &lt;a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&amp;item=5409488768&amp;amp;rd=1&amp;sspagename=STRK%3AMEWA%3AIT&amp;amp;rd=1"&gt;dress&lt;/a&gt; I wanted (which is GORGEOUS!) is far too expensive. I figured up the cost of it plus the headdress and the makeup...and so on and so on...and got a very large amount that I'm just not bleeding willing to pay. So I got a new costume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say too much because...I just want to keep it a secret...I mean...it's nothing big...just something utterly adorable...I'm not a character, persay...but...-grins- I'm so going to enjoy being this...it's much cheaper...and more fun for me to play with...much more skin, I'll say. Sorry all you guys...you'll get to see some leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...just letting you know...now back to stocking shopping on eBay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112209349396917162?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112209349396917162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112209349396917162' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112209349396917162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112209349396917162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/solution-to-dilemma.html' title='Solution to the Dilemma'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112200483972110862</id><published>2005-07-21T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T23:00:39.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemma</title><content type='html'>Now...it's come to that certain time in the year where one question comes up: What the hell am I going to be for Halloween?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, I saw Jack Sparrow, pardon...CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow...and this year I want an equally great costume. I put a lot of love into that costume...and a lot of time and money...and this year...I want something slightly more simple (so Star Wars is out) and definately less costly. So far...I've been thinking about Willy Wonka. But obviously, that's out of the question. A quality top hat alone costs at least $50...and I'm not willing to spend that. Not to mention his almost impossible to make candy cane. No pun intended. And then I was thinking..."How about Conan?" I'm not too sure about that though, for two reasons. The hair and the eyes. His hair would definately be a stretch to make...it's very...different...I suppose I could find some Harry Potter wigs and cut them up...and the eyes...are huge and blue. So definately contacts would be in order. And then I was thinking...how about dressing up as a Japanese person...not just any regular one...but one that's super kawaii with all the trimmings and layers, but...I'm not too sure I can find much in my size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's up to y'all. Leave suggestions of what you think I should be for Halloween. Nothing horror movie centered, though. I need something creative, and I'm so not afraid to be male. -pauses- No...a drag queen would cost too much money...damn...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112200483972110862?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112200483972110862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112200483972110862' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112200483972110862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112200483972110862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/dilemma.html' title='Dilemma'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112199318323925641</id><published>2005-07-21T19:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T19:38:52.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hullo kiddies!</title><content type='html'>Well...because I get very easily bored, I noticed in my bookshelf a folder. I pulled it out, thinking it was my 3rd grade essay on Abraham Lincoln that's been long-lost for years, but instead it turned out to be this autobiography from the 7th grade. I've decided to redo it, an exclusive for all who read my blog, and adjust it accordingly since, obviously, I've changed from the 7th grade. The topics were as follows (excluding the boring ones):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Me, Myself, and I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Family Traditions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Hobbies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Most Special Memory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Most Embarrassing Moment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Many Pet Peeves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Favorite Person&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Best Friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Biggest Life Lesson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Goals and Dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My 'Mr. Right'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Biggest Worry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and, last but not least&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What I Want You To Think of Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me, Myself, and I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Not much to say here except my name is Jamie, I am 17 years old and my parents are Tommi and Doug. I was born in Gainesville, Florida, and I've traveled a lot since then, living in Georgia, Missouri, and a lot of places in Arkansas. I've been through 6 different schools, but since this is my senior year, I highly doubt I'm moving. I'm going into the 12th grade, as I've said, and I'm pretty excited about it. Excited...nervous...it's all the same. I'm just glad my junior year is over. Sorry Brophy and Dedra. Well...I'm just glad I don't have Mr. Dykes anymore. And no more science. PRAISE THE LORD! This year is mostly going to be focused on more creative aspects since I'm taking English 12, Drama/Speech, and Creative Writing. All of my classes but one is going to be enjoyable, I'll say. I'm not exactly ordinary, nor extraordinary. I'm just a girl with all the same genitalia as the rest of them and, yes, my ovaries hurt when I look at Brad Pitt. -grins- I'm going to end that there because I so have another comment to say, but I won't. I like reading (I'm forcing myself to do a lot of it this summer), traveling, and various other things, some of which set me apart from others. Throughout these last few years I've come to accept myself (as much as an insecure teenage girl can) and understand why I do the things I do. I've also come to except my sexual and physical self, two sides that are very hard to like. I'm pretty much proud of myself, but like any other human, I'm not perfect and I do try to improve myself to the best of my abilities. I just hope I'm doing a good enough job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Family Traditions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Looking back on what I used to say were family traditions, I'm not too sure if I have very many besides the ritualistic Johnny Depp movie and (surprise, surprise) movie night on New Year's Day. A lot of the traditions I used to have are now non-applicable, seeing as I've moved on as a person, and so has my mother. I've mostly disassociated myself with my church (not Lutheranism, but my church), and therefore don't like to work the Fair booth as I used to, and my mother refuses to decorate the Christmas tree with me (since my father always bitched her out for "not decorating the tree in the right way" -twitches- He used to move my army men away from their base I made...I AM NOT GEORGE W. BUSH! I LIKE MAH TROOPS HOME DAMN IT! -breathes heavily-), and we try not to collect cats as we used to (seeing as the house is in bad enough shape with these damn dogs). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Hobbies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Honestly, when I think of the word hobby, I think of something like bird watching or gardening or something like that, but I really don't do anything of that sort. Especially if it involves going outside. I like being pale, damn it. Well...I do read a little bit, an obsessive thing I have about if I like something, I want to know everything about it. I listen to various music and I am in the choir. I write a little bit, not as much as usual, and I'm a big sci-fi nerd. I like debates about things I'm passionate about and collectiving LotR and Star Wars action figures. Especially LotR ones. I have about...a good...forty...fifty of them maybe? I dunno. They keep on coming up with new ones. What am I to do? I like Japanese things, mostly shows and am currently obsessed with Pokemon (as per usual), Chobits and Case Closed. I watch a lot of shows on a regular basis including the Nanny, the Winx Club, Saturday Night Live, Lost, and a lot of other random shows. And I've no idea why I'm craving dijon mustard. ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;to be continued...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112199318323925641?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112199318323925641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112199318323925641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112199318323925641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112199318323925641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/hullo-kiddies.html' title='Hullo kiddies!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112199134403334691</id><published>2005-07-21T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T19:15:44.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Detective Conan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/320/img3_big.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...since I've updated my blog...I guess it's time to update my blog picture. This one is of Detective Conan. Or should I say Jimmy Kudo. -grins- He's the main character of my favorite new show "Case Closed". The premise is that Jimmy Kudo, a 17 year old detective (brilliant bloody detective) got slipped an experimental poison after eavesdropping on some very illegal business and was turned into a little kid. With help from his neighbor, Dr. Agasa, he is now living with Jimmy's best friend (and crush) Rachel Moore, whose father just happens to be a bumbling detective with no work whatsoever. With Conan's help, Richard Moore is now a huge detective, taking credit for many of Conan's solved cases. Conan struggles to seem like a normal child, hanging out with Amy (the girl in the picture), George, and Mitch who call themselves the "Jr. Detective League". The mysteries are fantastic in this show. It's mostly murder, but every now and then they throw something in there that surprises the hell out of you. The last one I saw was about a supposed "Haunted Mansion", but just turned out to be a long unsolved murder that...guess who...solves it. It's a great show. I like trying to figure out all the clues before Conan does. He's really sharp. It's, obviously, anime, which is Japanese, so...sometimes I can't catch the clues because they're written in Japanese. But, I get a real kick when I figure out something before Conan does. That's only happened twice now, and I've been watching for about 30 shows. That's pretty good for a little anime show that comes on Adult Swim at 4:30 in the morning. But, the clues aren't so outrageous that it doesn't make sense; that's what's so great. Because you actually can figure them out if you keep your wits about you. It's absolutely wonderful. I recommend taping some episodes sometimes. Really worth it. I might buy the DVDs soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112199134403334691?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112199134403334691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112199134403334691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112199134403334691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112199134403334691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/detective-conan.html' title='Detective Conan'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112166536965688862</id><published>2005-07-18T00:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T00:42:49.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovely Lil Update</title><content type='html'>On request by Dedra...I'm going to tell you about mah night in Texarkana. -pauses- Like I don't spend a lot of nights in Texarkana, I know. -rolls eyes- I'm always there. But that's besides the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine this...it was Friday...er...two days ago and...I was...nekid...moving a few hours on...my mother and I were on the way to pick up Dedra. Now...the ACT's were the next day...and there was a slight complication so I had to get a quick stop by the school to see Jeffy the Councilor Man (if he can't eat it, no one can...no JUST KIDDING! -giggle-) and...sign some shit I'd already signed. And have the big-eyed principal brag about me. -blush- Well...after that...went to Dedra's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met with her sister, as expected, and got to see the new little puppy Hershey. IT'S SO CUTE! I swore it was a little black bear though at first. Very sweet. Much sweeter than Aayla -glower-. Well...watched TV...talked with the usual to Valetta...where we're going...how long she's had the dog...and mainly listening...and...yeah...this isn't quite that interesting...yeah...rather boring...I'm surprised you're still reading. You must be quite bored to be reading this...oy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...Dedra got home...and was furious. She stormed in, as per usual when about to kill or torture someone to death, and her sister and I just...stayed out of her way. You just don't mess with t3h Dedra when she's angry...or you might get strangled. Not exactly the way I wanted my day to go. Well...after she showered (she didn't want to smell like tacos -snigger-), she explained that her work is Satan and that she had to wait until backup came. So now that the Swat Team was in place at the local KFC/Taco Bell helping out the biggest drag queen I've ever heard of (speaking of that...ASK HIM WHAT SIZE HIS SHOES ARE DAMN IT DEDRA! I WANT THEM! -dies-), we could go pick up Brophy. In the pouring rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, Brophy was smart enough to actually go inside the pharmacy we were supposed to meet at. I wouldn't have been. Well...after I smacked him on the back of her head, we were gone...picking Dedra up at Wal-Mart (don't ask) and on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little tid bit for Brophy and Dedra if you're reading this. The bag that had the cheese biscuts and soft drinks was my "Toy Bag" -giggle, giggle-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...got to Texarkana...and...got to the movies...fucking late, I'll tell you that...it was 5...and...the next Charlie and the Chocolate Factory showing was at 7...we decided to eat and take that showing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Red Lobster's and my GOD! It was like the fucking Chippindales section of the restaurant. Men, men, everywhere and not one without an apron! -dies- It was rather awkward. Couldn't be as crude as usual. Shame. No farting at the table -snaps her fingers- I was looking forward to letting one on Dedra -grin- Kidding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we created a little cache of nibblements...we went to the movies...Dedra and I ran...I'm surprised no one got a frickin' black eye. So...here's Jamie's movie review of Willy...er...CHARLIE and the Chocolate Factory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I ever said I love Tim Burton?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRVES THE TIM BURTON! DAMN IT I LURVES HIM! GAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-composes herself- Over that. Movie was fucking fantastic. Fucking fantastic. The only things that annoyed me where the lack of screen time of Freddy Highmore (he's so adorable...a perfect Charlie...) and Willy's flashbacks. Whilst cute they seemed to interrupt the movie and essentially weren't in the book. Though neccessary, they were quite annoying. But cheeky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I even honestly have to tell you about Johnny? What am I gonna say "JOHNNY DEPP COULDN'T ACT IF YOU...STUCK...A...FLAGPOLE...DOWN...HIS...WHEELCHAIR!" I mean, c'mon. It's &lt;em&gt;JOHNNY FRICKIN' DEPP&lt;/em&gt; here, people. Did you doubt him...even for one second? I mean...just...it's Johnny Depp. If you doubted him you should hurt yourself. His interpretation of Willy Wonka was highly influenced from many different places and very inspired if you ask me. Johnny always sinks down into his characters, so I didn't expect anything less that perfection from him. And I got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2 million hours of the movies just flew by as the Oompa-Loompas did dirty dances and sang Roald Dahl's real lyrics...and...were...rockstars? Yeah...confusing...well...those little shiny outfits weren't all that flattering. -giggle- But amusing. I'm glad they were all played by one guy...it made everything a little funnier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the children were fantastic. Totally believeable and completely obnoxious. Go Tim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the cinematography...-fans herself- I could have just...-shudders- Beautiful...I'm quite fond of Tim Burton's "light-hearted" style, in which everything is very polished in an almost scary doll-like way. He's just brilliant. He just is. I mean...who could do Ed Wood, Willy Wonka, AND Pee Wee's Big Adventure? I mean...C'MON! Tim and Johnny! I didn't doubt them. Fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we left there...we hasted to Books-A-Million for the Potter Party. I was sorted. Slythern. How'd you like that? -giggle- But I liked the pin. It's great. By the end of the night I had completely gone around the store about twice...found a great looking anime called "Eerie Queerie"...about a gay couple. They were cute. I want that damn book. And I got the word "Joselyn" painted on my face...and I found some halfway decent wire-rimmed HP glasses on the floor. Hehe...the night was a success, I'll say. I've never seen Dedra so spastic. I do have to say I'd be that way if they had a...-pauses- Nevermind...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112166536965688862?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112166536965688862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112166536965688862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112166536965688862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112166536965688862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/lovely-lil-update.html' title='Lovely Lil Update'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112131621733731056</id><published>2005-07-13T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T23:44:41.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.quizyourfriends.com/takequiz.php?quizname=050714004721-720259"&gt;Take'&gt;http://www.quizyourfriends.com/takequiz.php?quizname=050714004721-720259"&gt;Take&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112131621733731056?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112131621733731056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112131621733731056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112131621733731056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112131621733731056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/quiz.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112131558263033293</id><published>2005-07-13T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T23:33:02.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oy vey...</title><content type='html'>This Fun Dip is all over my damn computer desk -curses-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to look up how to get past this one level in my GBA version of the Revenge of the Sith...I just...can't beat this one ship...I kill his guns, but not his main blaster...and I diah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIBRATOR VIBRATOR VIBRATOR! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why has everyone got a problem with vibrators? And sex toys in general. And masturbation in general. GAH! Masturbation is great! It's everyone's first sexual encounter...it's lovely...relaxing...uplifting...it is actually a proven form of meditation. It relieves tension and makes everyone just a little more friendly. I've read so many books about it. Especially Betty Dodson's...I recommend her books so much. It gave me such a better self esteem. I feel so much more beautiful after reading her books and a whole lot more knowledgable. She's a very good writer and very knowledgable about her subject. I don't agree with all of her opinions, like her non-monogamous nature, but I agree with her on masturbation. I  mean...I couldn't imagine growing up, or living, without it. I would be such a meaner person. I'm not very nice if I don't get my time, you know? It's like constant PMS. Also...I hate the thought that society accepts male masturbation and rejects female masturbation. And faking orgasm is the stupidest ass thing. Just to stroke the male ego. -shakes her head- Why are females denied pleasure? We are still treated as subservient housewives, and I for one do NOT believe in that. Maybe I'm a bit of a dominating person (-cough- Dominatrix - cough-) but I'm not going to be told that I can't pleasure myself because of my gender or anything else. And the Roman Catholic Church can shove masturbation. Why the hell did God give us organs, such as the clit, which their only purpose in the body is pleasure? I mean...he could have us reproduce in a way which is not stimulating to our bodies but is just used for reproduction and survival. So why can't we masturbate? And, despite the society's view, masturbation isn't a "second rate sex"...intercourse is sex and so is masturbation. Not everybody responds in the same way. I respond with masturbation, but I might respond differently or not at all with intercourse, I wouldn't know. But they're both a form of sex. Sex, in most minds, is considered penis-vagina, thrust thrust thrust. But that is so...so ignorant. Especially in this day and age. -sighs- I just...I guess I'm just a very sexual being...and I can't imagine being so closed minded to a simple pleasure that doesn't hurt anyone's feelings. -sighs- I have lots of opinions on other stuff, such as anal sex for men. And straight women with strap-ons. God, I love this country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which...I named my vibrator Echikochan...hehe...isn't it cute? Since it's Japanese and everything. I'm weird...I know...but if I can name my breasts, my bum, my computer, my truck, and my Fluffy...why not name my vibrator? Speaking of which...I'm getting a new one in soon...it just shipped...God I can't wait! It looks like a lightsaber! -squee- I'm so excited! (And obsessive)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of obsessive...CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY OPENS! YAY! I'm so looking forward to it! YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112131558263033293?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112131558263033293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112131558263033293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112131558263033293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112131558263033293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/oy-vey.html' title='Oy vey...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-112123325700566786</id><published>2005-07-13T00:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T00:41:51.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And she was just 17...</title><content type='html'>-giggles- Yep...I ARE 17! -bounces about like a monkey- I just...damn it...that Beatles song..."I Saw Her Standing There"...great fucking song...so about to sing "16 Candles".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I GOT MAH FIRST VIBRATOR! Which is so probably more than any of you wanted to know...namely Brophy and probably Darin if he reads this. Which is probably a not -rolls her eyes-. Well...it's so great...it's called the "Anal Scandal", but can be used for lots of things. It's so cute and Japanese. KAWAII! -squees- I have to go buy condoms for it, though -laughs- Which will be awkward if I see anyone I know. Speaking of cute and Japanese...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new favorite TV show! It's called "Case Closed" and it's about a teenage detective named Jimmy Kudo...and how he gets transformed into a little kid (who he names Conan after Sir Arthur Conan Doyle of Sherlock Holmes fame) by an experimental poison. He's so great...I LUFFS THE CONAN! I want to lick him. Badly. I have a link at the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read, I think 11 books this summer. Let's review!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sex For One - Betty Dodson&lt;br /&gt;2. Captain's Bride - Kat Martin&lt;br /&gt;3. Villians Victorious - Various&lt;br /&gt;4. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;5. Prince Caspian - C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;6. The Voyage of the "Dawn Treader" - C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;7. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;8. Cancer Schmancer - Fran Drescher&lt;br /&gt;9. Enter Whining - Fran Drescher&lt;br /&gt;10. Snow - Tracy Lynn&lt;br /&gt;11. Hatching Magic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...that's a damn lot of reading for me! -giggles-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...just got back from San Antonio from the BRAC trip...which is something I should save for another time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-112123325700566786?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/112123325700566786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=112123325700566786' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112123325700566786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/112123325700566786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/07/and-she-was-just-17.html' title='And she was just 17...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-111767698116785162</id><published>2005-06-01T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T20:49:41.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, well, well...</title><content type='html'>I know it, I know it. I'm coming back with my tail inbetween my legs. But I've had less pleasurable sensations, toi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a lovely day. A very happy day. The best day of the damn year. And no...it's not my birthday...To quote the Almighty Alice Cooper..."Schoooooooooool's out. for. summer..." with those nice little pauses. YES! IT'S OUT! IT'S GONE! HALLELUJAH! PRAISE JESUS! -does a happy dance-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I know it's been a while...I mean...shit...It's been a while...I've made so many new friends...Brophy...Ami...Amy...and...other people...who I'll...remember...shortly...maybe. Well...that's a lot more than I had before! And it's quality, man, not quantity. OOH! AND ASHLEY! -slaps herself- Ashley Tucker. Yep. We have the Kitten and random other things in common.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...since I'm so used to giving my patented movie reviews...I will give one...but just because I've missed you so much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know what you're thinking. "Did Jar Jar die?" No. But a lot of other people did! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you a little about the background on the day I saw it. I bought movie tickets. Lots of movie tickets. I took a day off of school to see this DAMN movie and if it was bad...I was so going to kill George Lucas. Yes. Go Gandalf on him and the works. Well...the ticket times were approximately as follows "12:01, 10:00, 1:25, 4:50". Yes. Four showings. I know, I know! Everyone else thought I was crazy! AND I AM! -evil laughter- Well..I went to sleep early and couldn't talk to Jess the night before, but I got my butt up at 9:00 and headed into Texarkana with my mother. She slept in her own car whilst I drove Strider. Got in there and there was a nice long line. Felt very awkward. At first I felt weird because I seemed to be the only one with a Star Wars shirt, but once I got inside...I felt like the only one without a costume! Ahh, if only I could have made a Shaak Ti costume. That would have owned. Well...got in there...took a seat in the now infamous theater 4 and sat my ass down. And waited. For an HOUR. I was starting to freak out! I started sweating and breathing funny and shaking. My GOD! It was painful! And when it came on, I was blown away. Right up...close up of the Hair. That shot alone was worth the wait. He is one SEXY bitch. And it's not a mullet Ewan. -smacks him and runs away- Damn you. Whiner. -sticks her tongue out at him- The movie...a HELL of a lot better than I expected! I guess I thought it was going to be good...but I kinda thought it would be crappy. Of course there was that lovely "gag-me-with-a-spoon" moment between a very pregnant Padme and a very sexy Anakin. Jesus Christ. Even though that man's lips when he says "You're beautiful" look quite good. -drools- Well...quite enough action, even for my liking. Although, I was sadly disappointed in General Grievous! Having watched the Clone Wars (at least episodes 21-25), I was expecting a grand performance from him. In the Clone Wars, he scared the crap out of me. Almost killed one of my favorite Jedis (Shaak Ti [Although she kicked ass and looked good doing it]). He just...was very frightening. But then in the movie...he was hacking like crazy...and got two arms cut off by Wussy-Wan Kenobi (no offense...but I hold grudges, people). I mean...MY GOD GRIEVOUS! What happened to that evil little robot I once knew? Heartless...evil...enough to make a girl pee her damn pants! Which I almost did. He was so great. But...just -sighs- So sad, so sad. The progression from Ani to Mr. Asthma Attack himself was very convincing. Good part of acting on Hayden's part. Very surprised how sexy that man can be whilst grunting and lowering his eyelashes and doing the patented Bloom Nostril Flare. Sexy as hell. -fans herself- Although...-kicks him in the groin- He got Aayla killed. I HAD TO WATCH MAH BEBE DIE! THEY KILLED HER! I was sobbing. YOU DON'T KILL T3H AAYLA! NOOOOO! Oh well...it was very good...the fight scene wasn't as good as I expected...and I got sick of PALPATINE'S ASS! -kicks him- Fucker. Well...I figured something out! Palpatine (the Force using him, that is) created Anakin! If you remember, Anakin "had no father", as per revealed in Episode I: The Gungan Menace (-dies-). Well, in Episode III: The Short-Lived Revenge of Duck-Face a.k.a. Count Dracul...I mean Dooku...Palpatine was telling Ani a story about how a Sith Lord Darth Plagueis could create life. And...I didn't get it until I was searching around the SW site. Palpy created him! GAH! Palpy was his apprentice (said in earlier scripts and in the book...and various other places) and according to him, Plagueis "taught his apprentice everything he knew" and my GOD! The look he gave Ani! And that also explains after he got his nice little "lava burn" (I was wondering how a lightsaber made that boy so fucking UGLY! GAH!) on Mustafar, Sidious (Palpy) looked so concerned about Vader's wellbeing. He looked so sad. GAH! BECAUSE HE'S HIS FATHER! GAH! Now...it's a "Ani, I am your father..." "NOOOOOOO! IT COULDN'T BE! I'M FAR TOO SEXY TO BE YOUR CHILD!" "Search your feelings...you know it to be true..." "But...how did THIS turn into THAT?" "Shut up insolent child before I cut off your lightsaber" "But...you can't cut off my lightsaber..." "I'm not talking about that blue thing in your pocket, son..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-111767698116785162?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/111767698116785162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=111767698116785162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/111767698116785162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/111767698116785162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2005/06/well-well-well.html' title='Well, well, well...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-110040118553316013</id><published>2004-11-13T20:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-13T20:59:45.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just got done...</title><content type='html'>Redoing the colour scheme. Good Lord. And the links had "mysteriously" disappeared. Weird, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what word I've been using a lot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weiner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to know that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know...that show came out with Dom. "Lost". Cha. It rocks. He plays a character named Charlie who is an ex-rock star who is addicted to heroine. I just keep on wanting to say morphine! -dies- Charlie's my favorite. Sawyer's my second favorite. He's the "bad boy" of the bunch and had some bad shit go down in the past. Least favorites: Sajid (the bastard...stabbed Sawyer -gets the lightsaber- Yes...in the arm), Jack (damn it...I hate hating him...BUT HE PUNCHED SAWYER! DAMN IT!), Kate (slapped Sawyer...bitch), Shannon (hurt Charlie's feelings...she's a whore...wish she would have died from asthma), Boone (Shannon's brother...I just...don't like him...at all...he could have just asked Sawyer for Shannon's medication instead of getting in his stuff...personally...I would have given him more than a little bloody nose...the pussy -growls-), Locke (Said Sawyer hit Sajid on the back of the head -smacks Locke- SAWYER WOULDN'T DO THAT! If Sawyer wanted to hit Sajid, he wouldn't have snuck up on him like a rat), among others. I also like Sun and Claire. And Rose. And Hurley. -dies- Hurley said Jack had a Jedi moment. Made me happy when I was in tears from yelling at the screen. Damn it. They hurt Sawyer. I was screaming. -dies- I almost suffocated Geoffrey. He doesn't want to watch Lost with me anymore. Says I'll end up killing him before the season's over. Well...if people go hurting Sawyer and saying he did shit...yes...I will accidentally kill Geoffrey. Or the television screen. Or both. Or more. Damn it. That episode pissed me off. It really makes me wonder if those people have any sense. It was completely obvious that he has a mental complex. It's a self-punishing thing. He subconsciously thinks everything is his fault so he makes everyone hate him so that he's punished. I mean...he didn't even fight back. -hug- I luffs the Sawyer. But not like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I lust after Charlie's tie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all sparkly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pretty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-strokes it-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-110040118553316013?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/110040118553316013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=110040118553316013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110040118553316013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110040118553316013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/11/just-got-done.html' title='Just got done...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-110039894129799791</id><published>2004-11-13T20:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-13T20:42:46.820-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/Kill%20Bill%206.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/Kill%20Bill%206.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a new picture. Cha. I know that's rather obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-110039894129799791?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/110039894129799791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=110039894129799791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110039894129799791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110039894129799791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/11/new-picture.html' title='New Picture'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-110031306728853368</id><published>2004-11-12T20:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T20:25:24.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my dear sweet GOD!</title><content type='html'>OH MY GOD! How long has it been since I've posted in here? TOO LONG! WAAAAAY TOO LONG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to edit some things in here...change some colours. I'm craving red, yellow, and black. Kill Bill colours, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...a lot has changed, although my hands sure seem to remember this site. I'm double spacing. It's rather odd how muscle memory works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God...haven't written since...SEPTEMBER! IT'S NOVEMBER! MY GOD! So much has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that big on Runescape anymore. I still recommend it. I'm getting into the strangest things, though. I have lots of new favorite TV shows...I like Spiderman, Digimon, the Nanny, and the Golden Girls. Be afraid. I'm really getting into the whole Pokemon/Digimon/Neopets thing again. I created a new Neopets account. Orlabossa. Yeah. Big shock. The other account is puffthemagicpepsi. Old accounts die hard, I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...can't think of anything for now, but...to amuse yourselves...some links.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-110031306728853368?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/110031306728853368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=110031306728853368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110031306728853368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/110031306728853368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/11/oh-my-dear-sweet-god.html' title='Oh my dear sweet GOD!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109590540304394427</id><published>2004-09-22T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T21:10:18.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hehe...waffles</title><content type='html'>Darin : jamie&lt;br /&gt;Jamie: Yes?&lt;br /&gt;Darin : put some syrup on me&lt;br /&gt;Darin : 'cos it's waffle time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109590540304394427?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109590540304394427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109590540304394427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109590540304394427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109590540304394427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/hehewaffles.html' title='Hehe...waffles'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109521259010142012</id><published>2004-09-14T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T20:43:10.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-clears throat-</title><content type='html'>Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Sheep, Sheep,&lt;br /&gt;The musical fruit.&lt;br /&gt;The more you eat,&lt;br /&gt;The more you toot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109521259010142012?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109521259010142012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109521259010142012' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109521259010142012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109521259010142012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/clears-throat.html' title='-clears throat-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109442901578764191</id><published>2004-09-05T19:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-05T19:03:35.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Lord...</title><content type='html'>I have some odd conversations...and I can't spell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Darin : since i'm not a lady, can i tongue the foyer?&lt;br /&gt;Jamie: No!&lt;br /&gt;Darin : -sad face-&lt;br /&gt;Darin : but...&lt;br /&gt;Jamie: I said no! -slaps hand-&lt;br /&gt;Darin : but whyyyy?!&lt;br /&gt;Jamie: Don't make me get the hose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109442901578764191?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109442901578764191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109442901578764191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442901578764191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442901578764191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/good-lord.html' title='Good Lord...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109442890673167683</id><published>2004-09-05T19:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-05T19:02:29.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Manly Men Don't Bathe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks so manly...it's hard to believe he's a Dancy boy. Dagger up to some fat lard's throat -fans self- -dies-. I'm such a mean person. But look...HE HAS THE WENHAM NOSE! -is in pain- God damn it. So many people have the Wenham nose. JC even has a variation of the Wenham nose. That part in A.D.I.D.A.S. scares the shit out of me. Have to cover my eyes. -dies- "NO! NOT THE WENHAM FACE! MUST...SHIELD...THY...SELF!" -erupts into hysterical laughter-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109442890673167683?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109442890673167683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109442890673167683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442890673167683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442890673167683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/manly-men-dont-bathe.html' title='Manly Men Don&apos;t Bathe...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109442803510090907</id><published>2004-09-05T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-05T18:55:11.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't stop giggling...I'm so bad -is dying laughing-</title><content type='html'>I took this...&lt;a href="http://memegen.net/viewmeme.pl?meme=1074689438"&gt;quiz thingie&lt;/a&gt;...and just -dies giggling like wild- Can't stop laughing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Name: Jamie&lt;br /&gt;Birthday: June 24th 1988&lt;br /&gt;Second Favorite Color: Pink&lt;br /&gt;Title of the song stuck in your head: Sunday Morning by Maroon 5&lt;br /&gt;You will meet Dom: When you create a demo CD with your new band, "Sblombie". He loves all the lyrics and contacts you.&lt;br /&gt;He will say: "Damn. No wait-Yes, damn."&lt;br /&gt;You will say: "Can we...talk some more?"&lt;br /&gt;Afterward you will: Pelt him with tiny stones to get his attention and when he gets pushed past the limit (you hit him in his crotch) he tackles you to the ground and steals all your rocks, but doesn't get off of you.&lt;br /&gt;You guys will hang-out: All the time.&lt;br /&gt;Worst part: He begs for sex perpetually. You're his goddess. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;Best part: You can't chose just one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THERE! -is in pain- That highly amused me. HIGHLY amused me. There was much giggling. I'm going to retake it about a thousand more times...which means more giggling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God damn it I love this song. Damn Maroon 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109442803510090907?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109442803510090907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109442803510090907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442803510090907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109442803510090907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-cant-stop-gigglingim-so-bad-is-dying.html' title='I can&apos;t stop giggling...I&apos;m so bad -is dying laughing-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109426794339733904</id><published>2004-09-03T22:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-03T22:19:03.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well...ah'm here...</title><content type='html'>Yeah...nothing much. I'm just damn bored. And the link to this in &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/__morphine"&gt;Darin's livejournal&lt;/a&gt;. And now Jamie's returned the favor. So there. Boo yeah. Ron Stoppable moment of the day. Did I even spell his name correctly? You know what...who cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-dies- It sounds like I'm all...negative...but I'm not...just fucking tired! GAH! SCHOOL IS EVIL! I'm just...so bloody tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flunked a math test. 49. I'm gonna fucking ace the next one. Damn it. Yeah...not proud of the grade but -shrugs-.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rereading Ella Enchanted. Plan on rererereading it. And if I'm bored enough rerererereading it or even rererererereading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's okay, I guess. Bailey...is Bailey. Dykes. Is Insane. Auld. Needs to be fired...again. Schlesselman...boring. Walthour. Evil, but he tells good jokes, damn him -dies-. Thomas. Wouldn't know. Ward. He's all right. The little square patch of hair frightens me, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to type a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nyah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There...I feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Lord what was my last journal entry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to get back to you about that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109426794339733904?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109426794339733904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109426794339733904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109426794339733904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109426794339733904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/09/wellahm-here_03.html' title='Well...ah&apos;m here...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109373911477393328</id><published>2004-08-28T18:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-28T19:25:14.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Lord, I don't keep up my blog at all...</title><content type='html'>How long's it been? Like five years...I swear to God...Gah...I need to keep track of my Blog! I LOVE MY BLOG! -gives her blog a big hug-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured you'd want to know about my classes/teachers...so...I'll say it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st hour-Spanish with Miss Bailey:&lt;br /&gt;She's actually halfway decent now...I think it's because she's braindead in the morning. As is Ricky. Praise God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd hour-Chemistry with Dykes:&lt;br /&gt;He...scares me. Scares the crap out of me. He has a New York accent...and he spaces out. He reminds me of that one teacher Jess said spaces out because of acid. Yes...LSD flashbacks...he scares me..."Can water be H30?" "-answers no-" "True -babbles on about properties- Which is why the answer is false." "-cricket chirps-" He frightens me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd hour-Choir with Auld&lt;br /&gt;Why. Didn't. That evil. School. Find. Another. TEACHER? GAAAAAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th hour-English with Schlesselman&lt;br /&gt;Fun yet again. Everyone's in their same places...except now Shelli's in there...she has to steal Aundra's seat every day. -shrugs- She doesn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5th hour-Algebra II with Walthour&lt;br /&gt;Hilarious man. Hilarious. Scary...but hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6th hour-French with Thomas/Strausner&lt;br /&gt;Hasn't got set up yet. I haven't learned a word of French. It pisses the Jamie off. But Ms. Strausner...I love her. I'm in there with Meagan and her friend Chaz. It's quite fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7th hour-American History with Ward&lt;br /&gt;He's okay and everything...but his head scares me. He's partly bald in the front except for this one little square of non-existant hair. It's...odd...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I'm at Michele's...on Bobby's computer because Michele's broke. Yeah. That's another thing. It got suffocated. Yeah...so I'm on Bobby's. Who is Mom's friend at work. Oi vey...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...nothing else to say at the moment...just bored. So...I'll write...er...type later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109373911477393328?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109373911477393328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109373911477393328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109373911477393328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109373911477393328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/good-lord-i-dont-keep-up-my-blog-at.html' title='Good Lord, I don&apos;t keep up my blog at all...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109225377997402971</id><published>2004-08-11T14:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T14:49:39.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Once again...</title><content type='html'>Bored out of my fucking mind. Yup...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Electricity went out this morning. Quite a few times. But I don't remember all of it...I woke up when it was flickering and then went back to sleep after it was off. When I woke up, it was on. So -shrugs-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my new boots. -dies- I feel pretty in them. Or special. I think it's a mixture of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rune Scape is starting to bore me. It's like...there's nothing left to do. -sigh- And none of my friends are ever playing Rune Scape. It sucks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedra's back online. Yup...showing her how to use Rune Scape...maybe she'll be online to talk to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109225377997402971?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109225377997402971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109225377997402971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109225377997402971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109225377997402971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/once-again.html' title='Once again...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109217242301395398</id><published>2004-08-10T16:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T16:13:43.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day...</title><content type='html'>I feel much better than I did last night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darin got a car! YAY! It's a '03 white Mustang with a black and grey interior. He is so taking me for a ride. Lucky bastard. It's name is Chim-Chim. Don't forget the little "-" or Chim-Chim'll go Gandalf on your ass. Arse. It's all the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This be Jamie's new schedule, yo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;1st: Spanish II-Bailey&lt;br /&gt;2nd: Chemistry- Dykes&lt;br /&gt;3rd: Choir-Auld&lt;br /&gt;4th: Advanced English-Schlesselman&lt;br /&gt;5th: Algebra II-Walthour&lt;br /&gt;6th: French-Thomas&lt;br /&gt;7th: American History-Ward&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now for the commentary...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1st: DAMN YOU! I'M GETTING BAILEY AGAIN! GAH! EVIL WENCH! She hates me...we like...saw each other in Texarkana...made direct eye contact...scowled and looked away...yep...we loathe each other...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2nd: Dykes...is a scary man...I hope he's not as bad as he seems&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3rd: GOD DAMN IT! AULD AGAIN! GAAAAAAAAH! -kicks her and runs away-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4th: Schlesselman...thank God...-dies-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5th: Walthour...gives lots of homework and paddlings...Where's Mr. Punchard when I need him?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6th: I'm so freaked out about French...just twitching...nervous...really...really nervous...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7th: American History is actually supposed to be before World History...but I'm glad that I've gotten World History over...nothing against Ms. Kramer, but...Jesus&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well...that's all there is. Besides I'm a bit lonely. Really wanna go over to Dedra's...or have Dedra come over here...or Darin...or someone God damn it...I'm all...alone...it's strange. I'm just...so fucking bored...Which explains why I'm on this blog. -dies- &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109217242301395398?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109217242301395398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109217242301395398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109217242301395398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109217242301395398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/just-another-day.html' title='Just another day...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109211725933723686</id><published>2004-08-10T00:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T00:54:19.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well...</title><content type='html'>Doing quizzes kind of...got me depressed so...-sighs- I don't feel that great right now. Yeah...just...feel like I'm going to cry again...it's been a few days since I've had that feeling so...it's an improvement...but I still feel really bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I got a new favorite song..."Hole In The Head" by Sugababes...I have a feeling it's going to inspire a new story. God forbid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School registration is tomorrow...I don't want school to start again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got new clothes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Belated Birthday to JC and my little sister...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit...I'd better go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a hug...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109211725933723686?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109211725933723686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109211725933723686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109211725933723686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109211725933723686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/well.html' title='Well...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109211371736892212</id><published>2004-08-09T23:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T00:37:27.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First...a quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Name?&lt;/span&gt; Jamie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sex/gender?&lt;/span&gt; Female...or so I'm told&lt;br /&gt;DOB? June 24th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Hair color?&lt;/span&gt; Brown&lt;br /&gt;Eye color? Hazel Green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Glasses/contacts?&lt;/span&gt; Nope...20/20 eyes baby! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Height?&lt;/span&gt; 5'8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Astrological sign?&lt;/span&gt; Cancer (Go ahead and tease...I'm a crab)&lt;br /&gt;State? Arkansas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Status?&lt;/span&gt; SPARKLE THIS! -dies- No...and if you don't know my status...you don't need to, love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;How would you describe yourself?&lt;/span&gt; Um...in need of bigger boobies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;What are you wearing?&lt;/span&gt; A black shirt and yellow shorts (-dies-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;Favourites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Color?&lt;/span&gt; Blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Car?&lt;/span&gt; VW Bug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Animal?&lt;/span&gt; Snake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Shape?&lt;/span&gt; Diamond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Alcoholic beverage?&lt;/span&gt; White wine...especially the ones that have like...strawberries in them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Beverage?&lt;/span&gt; Pepsi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Band(s)?&lt;/span&gt; Still the Beatles...of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Smell?&lt;/span&gt; BANANAS! I love natural stuff...my body spray...bananas...strawberries...stuff that grows, basically&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Food?&lt;/span&gt; Calzones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;Are you a...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Wimp?&lt;/span&gt; Mostly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nerd?&lt;/span&gt; Completely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Goth?&lt;/span&gt; I have the facial structure and skin for it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Punk?&lt;/span&gt; Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Jock?&lt;/span&gt; Hell no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Raver?&lt;/span&gt; -dies- No...I like the colors, though -dies more- Neon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Angel?&lt;/span&gt; Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Demon?&lt;/span&gt; Mostly...not as much as Karl, though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Druggy?&lt;/span&gt; Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Alcoholic?&lt;/span&gt; Nope again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Bondage freak?&lt;/span&gt; When I'm in the mood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Shy?&lt;/span&gt; In public&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Talkative?&lt;/span&gt; The majority of the time...big complainer that's what I am...complain about complaining...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Freaky?&lt;/span&gt; Hehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Flirt?&lt;/span&gt; Who isn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;The First Thing You Think Of...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Rain?&lt;/span&gt; Drops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Fire?&lt;/span&gt; Flames&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Earth?&lt;/span&gt; Soil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Wind?&lt;/span&gt; Blow...heh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Hot?&lt;/span&gt; Temperature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Cold?&lt;/span&gt; Refrigerator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sex?&lt;/span&gt; Naked...sweat...bodies...sheets...lots of thoughts -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Egg?&lt;/span&gt; White&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Spoon?&lt;/span&gt; Silver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Jester?&lt;/span&gt; That hat...I always think of it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;King?&lt;/span&gt; Crown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Queen?&lt;/span&gt; Freddie Mercury...damn you Darin! I wouldn't have even thought of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Devil?&lt;/span&gt; KARL URBAN! -falls over-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;God?&lt;/span&gt; Elijah...don't ask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Bitch?&lt;/span&gt; DEE DEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pimp? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;Flashy clothes...50 Cent...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pop?&lt;/span&gt; BUBBLES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A - Age: 16&lt;br /&gt;B - Best Quality: Um...I dunno&lt;br /&gt;C - Choice Of Meat: Crab&lt;br /&gt;D - Dream Date: Er...I DON'T KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;E - Ex (most recent): None&lt;br /&gt;F - Favorite Food: Calzones&lt;br /&gt;G - Greatest Accomplishment: Um...seeing a movie in the theaters six times&lt;br /&gt;H - Happiest Day of Your Life: Um...I dunno...any day I'm happy -dies-&lt;br /&gt;I - Internal conflicts: So many that I couldn't write every single one down&lt;br /&gt;K - Kool-Aid: Yes...Kool-Aid&lt;br /&gt;L - Love: Yes...love...&lt;br /&gt;M - Most Valued Thing I Own: Strider -dies-&lt;br /&gt;N - Name: Jamie&lt;br /&gt;O - Outfit You Love: THIS SHIRT! -falls over-&lt;br /&gt;P - Pizza Toppings: Pepperoni and mushrooms!&lt;br /&gt;Q - Question you want to ask: Where did you put Dominic?&lt;br /&gt;S - Sport To Watch: Football&lt;br /&gt;T - Television Show: Er...Tonight Show...Fairly Oddparents...Will and Grace...&lt;br /&gt;U - Unique habit: I'm double jointed and so I pop my fingers strangely...yes it is a habit damn you -dies- that and midnight snacking...&lt;br /&gt;W - Winter: Isn't here&lt;br /&gt;Y - Year Born: 1988&lt;br /&gt;Z - Zodiac Sign: Cancer...the crab&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109211371736892212?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109211371736892212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109211371736892212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109211371736892212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109211371736892212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/firsta-quiz.html' title='First...a quiz'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109192623215788730</id><published>2004-08-07T19:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T00:38:26.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Char and I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/char.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/char.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I said I was going to send a picture of Char and "I" a long time ago, and I tried, but it messed up. And I've been lazy up until now, so here it is. The picture. Of Char. And "I". Be thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109192623215788730?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109192623215788730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109192623215788730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109192623215788730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109192623215788730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/char-and-i.html' title='Char and I'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109168894420487505</id><published>2004-08-05T01:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T01:55:44.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GAH! It's been such a long time!</title><content type='html'>I mean...it's been over two weeks! MY GOD! How have I lived?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I've some news. I've been feeling like shit lately...and by lately I mean for the past months...and...I finally came up with something...I'm depressed. And yes...I said I wasn't going to post anything sad or angry or unhappy, but this isn't. This is great news. For the longest time I've felt like there was something wrong with me...and...I was always crying...I had bad headaches and recently stomachaches so bad that I got nauseous from them. Yeah...and...I just...felt really bad. Just beyond words. And I felt so alone. Like God was punishing me for some reason...and then it hit me and I immediately went to the computer and looked it up. The symptoms almost matched my recent behavior word for word. So now...everything's going to be okay. I know I'm not alone. And...today has been one of the best days of this year. And for a summer that's been made up of bad days, this is great news. Not only this, but since I feel I haven't been that great of a friend to anyone lately, I'm going to try to be more understanding and more of a listener. Especially to Darin. I miss my Darin. I had a mini-sobfest of "I miss Darin"s last night. It was bad. -smiles- I luffs mah Kevin! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of friends, I can't get ahold of Dedra. I mean...we were supposed to finish the Princess Bride...but I was awful to her yesterday. I mean...I could have been worse...but I most definately could have been better. I hope she's okay. I was really hoping to apologize today. I hope she's not mad at me. I really do. Lately she's been one of my best friends. Up in the top three with Jess and Darin, even. And it takes a while to get there. Took Sarah three years. Just because when you have people around me like them, it takes a long time for people to match their friendship level. -dies- I'm playing Rune Scape too much -dies more-. Level. Lord. Um...but...Dedra. She came over to the house the other day (which is a major event in my life...should have told you) and...I swear to God we had such a wonderful time. One of the best times I've had this year. And...it was so much fun. We played games. We made jokes. I introduced her to Will and Grace...we have jokes. Our wee moo thing (she's say Moo wee -dies-)...our rum wackers thing (-dies- Don't ask...maybe one other day I'll explain it)...and just...all that stuff...and...one thing that means a lot to me...she sat on my bed...I know that doesn't exactly make sense to you...but Sarah is the only non-Hilts person that's been in this house in quite a while. And well...she sits in my exercise chair. Never on my bed. Ever. And it's impersonal and gives off nervous vibes. I prefer what Dedra did. She sat right in front of me in my bed and looked me in the eyes as she talked. Which seems little maybe to you...but to me it's a lot...it's more trusting...and...maybe I'm not like that...I don't know...I hope I'm trusting to a point. But Dedra...completely trusting and you can tell she's being honest with me. I like that a lot. And...I just...had a blast. A complete blast. In fact, we're going to Tax-Free weekend in Texarkana Friday. It makes me happy. I'll be fun shopping with her and not my mom. Our moms'll shop together whilst we do. Heaven. And unlike some people, I doubt Dedra'll tell me that I shouldn't wear strapless stuff. -blinks- Even though it's going to be fall...doubt there'll be any strapless stuff. I can only pray. -dies- But anyway...I hope she's okay...and...that she's not mad at me. That would just...make me very sad. She's one of my best friends...-sighs- Speaking of friends, maybe it's just me...but it feels like Shelli's not listening to a word I say "Shelli...I'm depressed." "Me too. Anyway...about Zeke..." Yeah. Maybe it's my imagination. Maybe I'm being selfish. But -shrugs- That's all my feelings on the subject...and I don't consider that negative. Nor do I consider it positive. It's up in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of strapless. I NEED TO GO SWIMMING! GAH! I bloody well can't go a summer without swimming! There has to be a law against it! GAH! -falls over- Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm playing Pokemon again. Yes...kill me, I know. But I'm having fun! -dies- And I got my ears repierced (for this lovely bellydancer-esque chandiler earrings I got at Target). Had a day with my mom on Saturday. Um...Rascal's missing...Um...I'm a level 60 in Rune Scape...Ned Kelly's out...and...it has Geoffrey Rush, the Elf, Heath Ledger...and the guy who played Owen Lars in Attack of the Clones and "Revenge of the Sith" (which reminds me) and who played Gawain in King Arthur. Yes. Many cows... Got Princess Bride on DVD (at last)...Cary Elwes is in Edison with Justin. If they make eye contact...I swear I'll kill Justin. Bastard. Being in a movie with my fifth-going-on-fourth favorite actor. Damn him. Er...this new Tango flavoured Dentyne ice tastes like...juice. If you don't know what I'm talking about...then you don't need to be reading this blog. -dies- In honour of the Princess Bride...I'm going to re-write "The Whipping Boy". I drew a detailed three story map and everything...the country is going to be called Florin, in honour of the Princess Bride...and the one "Eric" is coming from is going to be called Guildor. Yeah...it's lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel embarrassed. I was playing Rune Scape and doing this. And this guy was talking to me. Poor guy. -dies- He's all "Howdy." "Er...that means hi." "Cat got your tongue?" And I was like "SHIT!" -dies- I hate that...it's embarrassing. -dies- Oh well...it's not that bad...he's nice enough. Made an excuse of reading. Writing in my blog is just...I dunno. Leads to questions -dies- I suppose. I'm paranoid. I quickly said reading. -dies- Habit. GOD DAMN IT! -dies- I've been wanting to say "habit" like "habbit" out of...habit. -dies- Hobbit. Habit. You see what I mean. -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...it's just about two and I said I was gonna go at 1:30, but I forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109168894420487505?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109168894420487505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109168894420487505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109168894420487505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109168894420487505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/08/gah-its-been-such-long-time.html' title='GAH! It&apos;s been such a long time!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109064431468722945</id><published>2004-07-23T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T23:45:14.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're obsessed when...</title><content type='html'>The word purple sounds sexy coming out of his mouth. Yes. It's official. Dominic sounds fucking SEXY saying "Purple"...not to mention looked good...I love "I Love 90s". Dominic...looks beyond good. Maybe I'm just a horny bastard...but -shudders- Gah...fucking sexy -licks him- I've never been more attracted...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's really, really sad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;God I want a tape recorder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109064431468722945?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109064431468722945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109064431468722945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109064431468722945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109064431468722945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/you-know-youre-obsessed-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re obsessed when...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109056550642687140</id><published>2004-07-23T01:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T01:51:46.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been reading...</title><content type='html'>...all these different blogs and I've come to one conclusion. The majority of the people who blog are really very intreguing. That minority, that is, refers to &lt;a href="http://scalia.blogspot.com"&gt;the Canadian Conservative&lt;/a&gt;. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was searching...I got bored so on &lt;a href="http://search.yahoo.com"&gt;Yahoo! Search&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;I found &lt;a href="http://blo.gs/changesRss60.xml"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. It has all sorts of different types of blogs. Including porn blogs. Yes. Porn blogs. And one that was from My Naughty Diary.com...-is afraid- That woman...said something that Darin did...I'M AFRAID! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...&lt;a href="http://www.scarysquirrel.org/special/movies/foamy/fatkins.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;...painful laughter...painful laughter...oh my GOD! -dies laughing-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads to &lt;a href="http://www.scarysquirrel.org/special/movies/foamy/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;...I'm going to be up all night watching these -is dying giggling-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/foxtrot_feed/"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; is the journal that I got those from. FoxTrot. Gotta love it! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109056550642687140?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109056550642687140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109056550642687140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109056550642687140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109056550642687140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/ive-been-reading.html' title='I&apos;ve been reading...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109056247009265308</id><published>2004-07-23T00:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T01:01:10.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ode To A Digital Kitten Long Gone</title><content type='html'>Yes...for quite a long time on Rune Scape I had wanted a kitten. I've seen all the adorable ones around...but could never find my own. Then finally, after finishing the Gertrude's Cat quest, she gave me one. She was adorable. Black, with matching eyes and a little red collar. I named her Keke. Only because that's the only thing that could come to mind. I never really named her. She was gone too quickly for that. After going leaving Gertrude's with another cooking level and high hopes, I headed to Catherby to raise my fishing level. One more level and I can catch swordfish! What's next? Sharks! Well...as I was fishing, I started walking...and all of the sudden Keke disappeared! I was like...she's stuck somewhere again, so I logged out. But she wasn't in my inventory. I switched worlds. Not there either. So I ran back to Gertrude's. I was talking to a friend along the way who had done the Gertrude's Cat quest and asked him about it. He said that if you fill your inventory, it'll run off. I asked if she'd come back. After a long silence, he said no.&amp;nbsp;I weeped inner tears and I went to Gertrude. She said she'd give me another cat for 100 gold. I rushed to the bank, joyous to get one back. I prayed for a black one like Keke. But I didn't get one. Instead I got an orange cat. I was disappointed, but I was happy. No...this cat wouldn't replace Keke...but I would love it just as much. As we walked, the cat and I, I watched it. It looked like a man. Not just any man. A manly man. I immediately decided to name it Char. And there we go. The story of&amp;nbsp;a kitten long gone, and a prince newly found. Thank you -bows-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Char, though. He's adorable. It's sad how attached I'm getting to digital creatures, I know. But I was really excited to have Keke. I'd wanted a kitten for such a long time, that when I got one, I didn't think about the consequences. I know Keke's out there, searching for fish in Catherby. I hope she's happy -sniff- -dies- I loved her a lot. Her name has come from Meow Meow's nickname, since if you say 'Kitty, kitty", after a while it sounds like 'Keke'. Not 'Kiki'...'Keke'. I can't explain it. You have to hear me say it to understand it. I suppose it's like...Kiki is "Keykey" and Keke...well...the "ee" sound is held out a bit longer, I suppose. I dunno. You just have to hear me say it. Well -sniffs- I thought I'd record that thought. And...in the meantime...I have pictures of Char and me! YAY! I figured I'd keep them, just in case I raised him into a cat and sold him for 100 blood runes. Probably will...just to get another. Gertrude won't let me have more than one. For good reason, I suppose. But I'm happy with Char. And I'm going to throw away Keke's favorite ball of wool. She loved it so. As does Char. Char loves his ball of wool. -sniffs- And his sardines! -bursts into tears- -dies giggling- Well...I'm fine...just...feel bad that I was that stupid and lost Keke. I really liked her. Even though she was digital, she has a place in my heart. -sniff- -dies- Oh well...-sigh- We learn from our mistakes, even though we may not like them. Imagine what would happen if I didn't go fishing right then...and I did it after I had grown attached to Keke? I mean...really attached. I would be heartbroken. Sobbing even. My poor Keke. Oh well. As I said, she's digitally catching fish. -sigh- I'm so odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109056247009265308?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109056247009265308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109056247009265308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109056247009265308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109056247009265308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/ode-to-digital-kitten-long-gone.html' title='An Ode To A Digital Kitten Long Gone'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109030657537603224</id><published>2004-07-20T01:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T01:02:21.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know what...</title><content type='html'>My life is boring. Yep. Big news. -dies- It is. I need to travel. I'm sick of staying in the same place. I've been here too long...I can feel that feeling again...you know...the one that whispers in your ear...telling you of far off places...of better places...of bright colors...and foreign adventures...I've been here too long...I need to move. I need to do something besides stay here...stay here and do the same old routine...I don't know how all of this came...it just...it's here. I don't think I've ever really felt it...because I've never stayed in the same place for very long...Florida...two weeks...Georgia...two years...Missouri...four years...and I've been in Arkansas for the rest...but not one place..nooooo...all over Arkansas...Hope...two years...Spring Hill...three years...Lockesburg...four years...Oh God...I'm reaching the five year mark...that's why this is happening...I need to move! God...I've never stayed in one place for five years...nor do I want to...I want to GO! I want to move...some place else. Some other state...some other country...some other time zone, please God...I wanna move. I don't understand why...maybe...at least towns. Let me move to a different town...four years...God...I've been here four years...I wanna go back to Missouri...-sighs- I've been in Arkansas for...oh my God...9 years...I've lived here 9 years...I wanna go...just...wanna leave. See something new...go out of the country...I haven't traveled in so long...it's been too long...I just...wanna pack up the truck and drive...drive wherever he takes me...let myself go...just...be free...go to the places that I don't know...take a map and drive all day...14...15...16 hours...I just...wanna go. I'm sick of the same place...I'm sick of it...I know everything around here...I know most of the people...most of everything...if not all of everything... I don't know where this post is coming from...and it's not exactly a negative post...it's more of...I'm having a craving...I feel boring...I don't want to be boring...I wanna go somewhere else...meet more people...find more cultures...more open-minded people...I wanna find different races...different thoughts...different minds...different colors...different smells...I know everything around here...it's safe...and as much as I love security...I need to push myself out there...I need to find something new. Some place dangerous...full of everything new...somewhere exotic...but maybe just exotic to me... Some place bigger...maybe one smaller...probably bigger...small towns drive me crazy...I don't like having just to walk somewhere to get there...I like a big city. Some place that winds for miles...but not...extremely big...just big enough to where the crime rate is down and the people are still nice...but I down Gainesville was ever like that...nor ever is going to be. I want to go, though...there are so many people...that don't understand why I like to travel...but the world is beautiful...and it's not fair for me to be stuck in one place in the world...I should be able to see it...I wanna go...I wanna go to Spain...India...Ireland...England...Portugal...Brazil...Scotland...New Zealand...Puerto Rico...Cuba...China...God...I bet they're beautiful...so many different voices...and people...and sights to be seen. And it kills me that I'm not there. That I'm stuck here...where I know everything...where the colors grow duller and duller in my eyes...and where everything becomes bland and grey...the excitement gone and my eyes grow dim...the sounds are all the same...always will be...have been...everything's the same...I need to go...I wonder what India looks like in winter...what Spain looks like in March...Ireland would probably be beautiful in fall...all of its green turning to light browns...and soft, but blunt yellows and dark browns...It's probably beautiful...I want to go to Maine...to Washington...deep inside of Canada...back down into Mexico...Guatemala...the Caribbean...I wonder what Port Royale really looks like...I wish I could go to Whitby...to Jamaica...I want to sail...I wonder if I'd get sea-sick...I doubt it...but...I'd want to try...try everything...I want to visit...all of the continents...even Antarctica...every ocean...I want to travel...see the Black Sea...the Red Sea...the Dead Sea...the Mediterranean Sea... Egypt...God I wonder if Cairo would be as pretty as I think it would...Djibouti...hehe...I wanna go there too! I want to visit a cape...Cape Cod...Cape Verde...Cape...everything! The Bahamas...the Dominican Republic...Trinidad...Barbados...hehe...Dominica. ANYTHING WITH THE WORLD DOMINIC IN IT! -giggles- I wanna go to. Isla de Margarita...I wonder if they'd sell alcohol...California...to Knott's berry farm...to San Francisco...Germany...Greece...Rome...God...Belgium...Norway... Sweden...Switzerland...God...all those places...they'd be wonderful...hell...I want to go somewhere in country...I don't care where...just not...not Arkansas...somewhere I haven't been...somewhere new...God, let me go there...I've been here too long...I've worn out my welcome...in this state...this region...possibly even in this country...they've worn out my welcome...I want to go...to be free... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;You'll have to ignore this post...it's for myself...to let my mind go free...and it did...and I feel much better now...I still really wish I could go...But I suppose I could be worse off...I could actually want to stay here. God...that would be awful... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Well...good night everyone...sleep tight...sweet dreams...and remember...whoever you are out there...no matter who you are...my thoughts are with you... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109030657537603224?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109030657537603224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109030657537603224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109030657537603224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109030657537603224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/you-know-what.html' title='You know what...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109026652167387437</id><published>2004-07-19T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T14:48:41.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another ordinary day at the Hilts household...</title><content type='html'>Well...I feel asleep at about 3 last night. Was awakened at 5:30. Yes. Mother dearest left a window open and Meow Meow got out. Luckily, after some thirty minutes of tracking her down and watching her...I stepped close to her...put my flashlight down...and she came to me. It was strange. Momma was like "Hold her tight. Don't let her go." But she wasn't struggling. Not until Momma got close, that is -dies- I found that amusing. Momma thinks she came to me because of the quote unquote "bond [we] made when she first came into the house". I think it's because she doesn't like the flashlights and I didn't have one with me. -dies- It was funny...while out there...I was sweet talking the whole time, even when I was talking to Mom. -dies- "Oh...I hope that's a cricket on the wall and not a cockroach. Oh, it's a cockroach. Die cockroach, die!" all in a little sing-song voice. I find that very amusing. I didn't kill the roach. Just scared the shit out of it. Anyway...Meow is back inside...and...I thought I'd want to kill her...but I'm just extremely relieved that she's back. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;DARIN'S BACK ON THE COMPUTER! -dances around like a wild man- YAY! -dies- We're discussing "I Love The 90s" and a mutual hate for Michael Ian Black. Yeah...the annoying guy with the round head. -dies- And how we both like Hal Sparks. -dies giggling- Ahh...so...everything is good today. And that makes me happy. Now onto Rune Scape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109026652167387437?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109026652167387437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109026652167387437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109026652167387437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109026652167387437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/just-another-ordinary-day-at-hilts.html' title='Just another ordinary day at the Hilts household...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109014164787374655</id><published>2004-07-18T04:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-18T04:07:27.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my...</title><content type='html'>I haven't cried that hard while watching that movie...ever...I mean it was hysterical sobbing. Whilst watching RotK. I mean just...God...when Theoden died it was downhill for there...and I thought Eowyn's sobbing was pathetic. Mine was worse than hers. Because I kept having this flash in the back of my mind of how it went in the book. I could see Theoden telling Merry to say something to Eowyn...and Merry looked over and Eowyn was lying right next to him...practically dead and he didn't have the heart to tell Theoden what he saw. I bawled so hard that my nose and my eyes hurt. And...I cried at the Denethor saying he'd rather Faramir be dead...I cried at the Sam being rejected...at Aragorn getting Anduril...even though I was making bad penis jokes "Whip that thing out, Elrond!"...at the end...of course the whole battle of Pelennor Fields...and...my eyes watered like wild when Merry cried at the Grey Havens and when Gimli said "I never thought I'd die next to an elf." "How about next to a friend?" "Aye...that I'll do." I had to fan my eyes both times to keep from crying. It was just...hysterics. Oh...and the bonus thingies sucked...all it was was a documentary (a very short...about three minutes) about how they couldn't use real horses so they made their own fake ones. Lord. -dies giggling- Oh...and I started just hysteric bawling at the extreme end. It just...hit me...it's over. It's all over. The movie...LotR...the Fellowship...it really is over...and it hit me in the theaters...but not as hard as it hit me today. Yeah...it was a big emotion-fest...felt nice crying, though...I haven't cried in about a day or two and I was getting emotionally blocked. -giggles- Well...gotta go...it's about 4:05...and I've got to get to sleep. Buh-bye. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and...just a reminder to myself. PASSWORD CHANGED! Hint should be known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109014164787374655?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109014164787374655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109014164787374655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109014164787374655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109014164787374655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/oh-my.html' title='Oh my...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109011700478249790</id><published>2004-07-17T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-18T20:11:16.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so sorry -dies-</title><content type='html'>"Jewel had a poetry book and I picked that thing up and every other poem was about her bosoms." JC sounded disturbed. Extremely disturbed. Hehe...poor JC. Having to read something about Jewel's bosoms. Even more importantly...about bosoms in general. Speaking of bosoms...I feel a quote coming on. "'Mmm...bosom.' 'Did I say bosom?' '-nods head, closing eyes, biting lower lip- Yeah.'" I love Dom...have I ever said how much I love him. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Rum? "But why's the rum gone?" -dies- Flavoured rum. We don't need any...flavoured rum! Some...water-logged...vanilla extract flavoured...diluted rum! We need rum! Normal rum! Brown and thick...and...liver-rotting! No clear rum! Clear rum is for the wussies and the people with good breath. Who really needs that? We don't need any God damn flavoured rum, savvy? -had her moment of the day- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Why do I have the feeling that all of today's entries are going to fill up the whole blog? &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-long pause- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-shrugs- Who cares? It's not like... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-another long pause- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it's like, but I'm filling up the whole God damn blog with my ramblings! That's why I got this God damned blog! So there! Bitch! -dies- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I love Silent Bob...Jay is a bastard...but I like Silent Bob. So *bleep* my *bleep*, you ass****! -dies laughing- God...that amuses me. With the word 'asshole', people bleep the word 'hole' and not the word 'ass' which, in truth, is the real offensive word, not hole. -laughs- If they do that...why don't they say 'butt****'. It makes no sense. I agree with George Carlin. This censorship method makes no fucking sense. I mean...it's like he says...you can say the word...you can print the word as long as it's like...'f@&amp;amp;k' or 'f**k'...which still imprints the word in your mind...so it's like...just say the word! It's not like it's not already there! What's the difference? If you're going to censor the word...completely censor it or don't censor it at all. Because the medium censoring we're doing...well...lemme clue you in, people at the censoring place (-dies-)...WE KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING? -gasps- How we know that Jay-Z is saying 'bitch' when he says 'b*tch'...we will never know... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;AHH! I love Dave Nevarro even more now! He sang "Barbie Girl"! He fucking rocks! -dies- Admitted to having "Barbie Girl" on his Ipod. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"I'm a Ken guy...I have no penis!" -dies laughing- Hehe...it's that Hal Sparks guy. He fucking rocks...not as much as Dave Nevarro, but still! &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-dies laughing- "I would never let a woman kick my ass. If she tried anything, I'd be like 'Hey! You get your bitch ass back in the kitchen and make me some pie!'" -dies laughing- That is the only amusing South Park line I've ever heard. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-even more laughter- "Is that Furby your friend or a double-crossing little bastard?" -is in pain- This is so fucking funny! -is in pain- Darin was all amused by what Dom says...but the whole thing is fucking funny! &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"A 'friend' of mine told me that he [took Viagra] and he had this erection that was so hard and relentless that he felt like a lesbian with a strap-on." &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;You see what I'm talking about? IT'S PRICELESS SHIT! -is in pain- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;You know...every time I see the word "Armageddon"...I see "Arma-get-it-on". -dies laughing- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh...and the whole "Ben Affleck and Liv Tyler in movies together" makes sense now. I forgot they were in Armageddon together -dies-. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"Don't wanna fall asleep 'cause a big rock will hit the earth and then we'll all &lt;em&gt;die&lt;/em&gt;. -is in pain laughing- So fucking funny. SO FUCKING HILARIOUS! -is dying laughing- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I know this isn't making any sense...but you'll have to excuse me. I'm so amused that it's not funny. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Who the hell is Rachael Harris? I'm confused... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;And who &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; wants another Partridge Family? Seriously? Who does? And what drugs are you on? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the questions of life... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109011700478249790?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109011700478249790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109011700478249790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011700478249790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011700478249790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/im-so-sorry-dies.html' title='I&apos;m so sorry -dies-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109011423655917337</id><published>2004-07-17T20:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T20:30:36.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Austin Powers is like a breath of fresh air." Since when...did Dominic watch Austin Powers. I mean...it'd make sense. -giggles- It would...but still...i'ts just...I don't know. I can't picture it. -pauses- Yes I could -laughs- I'd like to hear him sing the "Hello Mazha, Hello Fahza". And, as he does in the movie, the "Shh" thing with Scottie. Not "Scottie Don't". -giggles- Just the "Shh" thing. I love Austin Powers. I pity anyone that hasn't seen those movies, because I love them. They're hilarious. "I've got me a Mormon!" -dies laughing- I'm sorry...that was really...off...just...extrememly off. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;You know...I don't like that one guy. The one with the round head...and the black hair and just...is so sarcastic that it's beyond funny. It's annoying. He's a little bastard. I'll post his name when I get it. But I love the one guy who does the impressions. Shit...don't remember his name either...AHH! It just popped up! Hal Sparks...he's fucking hilarious! &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;AHH! I SING "MMMBop"CORRECTLY! YEAH! -dies- Hanson was on there...talking about how they've never met anyone who can sing the chorus correctly. And they did it...and that's the way I sing it! I'm so proud! -dies laughing- Yay! -giggles like wild- YAY! -cow- Do you know how happy that makes me? My whole career as a Hanson fan is now justified because I am one of the elite. I can sing "MMMBop" correctly. God damn it, why didn't I pack that CD? I wanna hear it now. To brag to myself. Because I'm off like that. And I would type the correct lyrics to the chorus...but...that'd be stupid -dies-&amp;nbsp;Almost as&amp;nbsp;stupid than typing the JC version of the Macarena. I wouldn't do that. Nooooooo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109011423655917337?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109011423655917337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109011423655917337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011423655917337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011423655917337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/austin-powers-is-like-breath-of-fresh.html' title=''/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109011119333117375</id><published>2004-07-17T19:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-18T20:07:11.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I know I've been talking about it all day, but...</title><content type='html'>JC...I'm rewatching these things...and he said something about "Train"...and...said something about the "Macarena". Heh. Heh. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT'S MICHAEL BOLTON! GOD SAVE US ALL! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109011119333117375?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109011119333117375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109011119333117375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011119333117375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011119333117375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-know-ive-been-talking-about-it-all.html' title='I know I&apos;ve been talking about it all day, but...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109011014777934779</id><published>2004-07-17T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T19:22:27.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally figured out why VH1 invited JC to speak on "I Love the 90s"...</title><content type='html'>-is dying laughing- And I thought the wrist band thing was funny! I WANT A RECORDER! -has fallen over- JC SINGING THE MACARENA! -falls over laughing- He doesn't know the words so it was like "Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh Macarena. Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh cosa buena. Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh Macarena. EHHHHHHH MACARENA!" -hysterical laughter- Not to mention just that...but he was all...shaking his head as he 'sang'. -is in pain- Like an Indian...and Indian mis-singing the Macarena -is dying laughing- At least he has an accent when he says it. That song's dirty. Dirrty even. It's no A.D.I.D.A.S., but it's like "Give your body pleasure, Macarena" type of thing. Yeah...like...about...her masturbating or something...with some random guy when she has a boyfriend and his last name starts with a V. Yes...I looked up the lyrics. Damn you JC. Damn you. -giggles- That was hilarious. Fucking hilarious. I TiVoed it about...20 times. I swear to God. That whole Janet boobie thing shouldn't have been the highest TiVoed event. It should have been JC singing the Macarena. -shakes her head- What this world is coming to today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109011014777934779?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109011014777934779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109011014777934779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011014777934779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109011014777934779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-finally-figured-out-why-vh1-invited.html' title='I finally figured out why VH1 invited JC to speak on &quot;I Love the 90s&quot;...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109009403549898217</id><published>2004-07-17T14:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T14:53:55.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I REMEMBER IT NOW!</title><content type='html'>JC! He was watching about the song "Train". In a positive way, love course. And I laughed my ass off. In "The Reel *N Sync", he started singing "Train"...very badly, mind you. So...-laughs- It was...painful laughing...Chance (the dog) started barking at me and Kody (the other dog) started trying to lick me. And uh oh. Garth Brooks. I'm afraid...what's Dom going to say? And David Lee Roth frightens me. Very much so. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;-dies laughing- DOM! He said "This guy is a[n] incredibly offensive looking man wearing horrible clothes." -dies laughing- He looked all completely disgusted. -giggles- He's definitely...not straight. -giggles- But I wouldn't like Dom if he wasn't! -jumps on him- He'd better like women damn it. -dies laughing more- No...ignore me. But that comment is just...fucking hilarious. -giggles- I don't think I've ever seen him look so...disgusted. Just completely disgusted. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;And these Papa John commercials. God, they scare me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109009403549898217?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109009403549898217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109009403549898217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009403549898217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009403549898217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-remember-it-now.html' title='I REMEMBER IT NOW!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109009321883567093</id><published>2004-07-17T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T14:40:18.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-screams-</title><content type='html'>IT'S MICHAEL BOLTON! GOD SAVE ME! THE HORROR! -grabs someone by the shoulders- THE HORROR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109009321883567093?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109009321883567093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109009321883567093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009321883567093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009321883567093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/screams.html' title='-screams-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-109009296149249609</id><published>2004-07-17T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-17T14:43:15.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love The 90s</title><content type='html'>I love this show. I absolutely fucking love this show. It just...rocks. It has JC, Dominic, and Lance...who just called someone a quote unquote "sex kitten". Lance frightens me. Actually all of them do. JC and Dominic. They're bad. They had the whole MC Hammer v. Vanilla Ice thing and Dominic was dancing...to MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This"...and quoted the Vanilla Ice song. -dies- "Stop collaborate and listen. Ice is back with my brand new mission." "His brand new mission? This is his first song. So you know he's lying and you don't believe another word he says after that." -dies- Actually...it's "invention" not "mission", but he's Dom...he can do whatever the fuck he wants. But...Dom...obviously as something against Vanilla Ice. Not that I disagree. Personally, I prefer MC Hammer to Vanilla Ice. And...-pauses- JC said something about George Michael. -loud cough- Sorry...-dies- Can't help it. But...Dominic...has a huge grudge against Vanilla Ice. He got all pissed acting. He was like...the only person on that show that didn't like Vanilla Ice. I don't blame him. I don't like him either. But the MC Hammer dancing. -laughs- It made me so happy that I have TiVo so that I could rewind that about five thousand times. Watching Dominic dance. -giggle- -giggle, giggle- And JC...he's just...adorable. I was watching...I think it was 98...but it might have been 97 or 99, but it was talking about "Something About Mary" and how they made fun of...mentally...inept people and he went "You can't say that! That's mean!" and I was all..."AWW!" -dies- It was bad. Jess and I were talking to each other and we both had the same reaction. But...just a few minutes ago they had the slap-bracelets and JC...had a moment. "They finally realized that these bracelets, when you slap them on, they cut your wrist and you die." -dies laughing- -falls over- He frightens me. Just like when he was talking about...SHIT! I forgot! It was fucking hilarious, though. Damn it. Um...-thinks- It was funny! -whimpers- I hate when I forget stuff. But it was funny, I'll tell you that. God, this is a lame post. -dies- But...I can't help it. Damn you JC. -giggles- But...Dom...Dom looks good. And...I was all "Ooh...JC looks pretty"...and then I saw Dom. "JC who?" And then Usher. I'd have screams for each person I recognized. "AHH! DOM!" "AHH! USHER!" "AHH! JC!" "AHH! LANCE IS FROM MISSISSIPPI!" -dies- I'm off. You have to excuse me. -dies- There's something mentally missing. Oh...the most priceless part of this (besides the Dominic dancing) was Dave Nevarro (or however the fuck you spell his name) singing "Genie In A Bottle". Hehe. He sang it well...but it was fucking hilarious! I mean...he's...he's Dave Nevarro! He doesn't sing Christina Aguilera songs! -laughs- It was fun. That and I like the guy from Anthrax...yeah...the ones who were in "Calender Girls"...he was nice to Hanson. "They're young, I know, and it's a boyband, but they write their own stuff and play instruments, so I'm not going to say anything bad about them." GAH! BRAD PITT! BRAAAAAD PITT! -giggles- "Thelma and Louise". Hehe...so what if he's an asshole. He's fucking...sexy. SHIRTLESS! SHIIIIIIIIIRTLESS! -ogle- -more ogle- Brad Pitt...-screams- HE'S ALMOST NEKID! Oh...shirtless..."Take me, break me, make me a man." Hehe...hehe. I do have to agree with all the women. I would waste all my money on Brad Pitt -nods- Hehe...shirtless Brad Pitt. Nekid Brad Pitt with a naughty chant. "Take me, break me, make me a man." I love you Brad. God bless -dies- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I'm at Michele's house. It's fun. I have a laptop. Satellite TV. One free movie (which is going to be RotK because it has the deleted scenes in it). And...I'm all alone. It fucking rocks! I do like...nothing! Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;And, just keep this in mind, I'm getting paid $50 for this. Heh. Heh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-109009296149249609?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/109009296149249609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=109009296149249609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009296149249609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/109009296149249609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-love-90s.html' title='I Love The 90s'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108985499595578349</id><published>2004-07-14T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T20:29:55.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're pathetic when...</title><content type='html'>...you have to beg people to post comments in your blog. I know this is quite pathetic...but...POST IN MAH GOD DAMN BLOG, PEOPLE! I don't care what you say as long as you do, in fact, say it! GAH! It'd make my day better at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep...I've had a bad day. Made a cat mad at me, got mad at a friend, didn't do my exercises correctly, was exhausted, and didn't crush the cans and do the dishes before momma got home. But I feel better now. I've eaten. That and my assortment of beverages makes me feel better. Milk, Hi-C, and Pepsi. I'm a liquids person, what can I say?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108985499595578349?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108985499595578349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108985499595578349' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108985499595578349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108985499595578349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/you-know-youre-pathetic-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re pathetic when...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108978810972464534</id><published>2004-07-14T01:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T01:55:09.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God damn this song...</title><content type='html'>There's a new one every night it seems. "All Nite (Don't Stop)" by Janet Jackson. Found myself humming it. For the past two-three hours. Damn her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my new book! YAY! "Le Morte D'Arthur" by Sir Thomas Malory. My favorite story in it is about Beaumains who becomes known as Sir Gareth. -grins- As you already know. I know chivalry is cliched, but...I like it. -laughs- It appeals to me. I'll have a hard time with "Don Quixote". -snickers- Not. That's gonna be funny. Attacking the wind mills because he thought they were opposing creatures. -snickers more- God. -laughs- I think I'm one of the only people who can pronounce and spell "Quixote" correctly. It's "key-ho-tee". Spanish, you know. -shakes her head- But it's funny. Makes fun of chivalry, though. -dies- Everything good can be made fun of I suppose. Like...I don't know. I can't think of anything right now. Tolkien! Not the man. His works. So easily made fun of. But I luffs his stuff. -pauses- That's so wrong. But...no. I like his literary works. Thank you very much, you perv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAH! I can't wait to read this book. It's great. But I have to finish "Dandelion Wine" first. Which'll take a bit, knowing me. I luffs this book already. Just because it has the Sir Gareth tale. -humps Galahad- -clears throat- I didn't do that. -dies- I luffs the Dancy boy. OOH! I added him to my "Eye Candy O' the Moment" section! YAY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...nothing much left. OOH! I gots me a job! -dies- I'm going to be house/dog sitting for Michele, my mom's friend, for fifty dollars plus food and entertainment! YAY! -dies- It makes me happy. She lives like...next to the mall. Which means it's close to the movies. Very close. Like...almost walking distance. Which makes Jamie happy. It's this Friday and Saturday. And she has internet. Jessica's fine with it. Which makes Jamie happy. YAY! So...yeah -dies- That's pretty much it...Adios&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108978810972464534?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108978810972464534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108978810972464534' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108978810972464534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108978810972464534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/god-damn-this-song.html' title='God damn this song...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108976916015418143</id><published>2004-07-13T20:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T21:01:06.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Better Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/A%20Better%20Movie.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/A%20Better%20Movie.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-dies laughing- I think this speaks for itself, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108976916015418143?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108976916015418143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108976916015418143' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108976916015418143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108976916015418143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/better-movie.html' title='A Better Movie'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108973824841105751</id><published>2004-07-13T11:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T12:05:09.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God that was a sad dream...</title><content type='html'>I was asleep and all...and even though I don't remember the full thing, I'll type it out as best I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A little boy and his dad went to the hospital (for what reason I don't know). The little boy ran off while his dad was in another room and went into the room of an elderly man. They instantly became friends. They talked for a while, hours maybe, before the little boy had to go. He said goodbye to the man and went on to his dad. As he was walking, he looked down and a solitary stamp laid on the ground. The little boy picked it up. He knew who it was meant for. He raced back to the old man's room and presented him with the stamp. The man looked confused, but the boy said, "It's a gift from heaven". The old man's eyes watered as he looked at the stamp. It was of his dead wife's favorite thing: making snowmen. He thanked the boy and said goodbye again and the boy went back to his father. He never returned to that hospital again. Neither the old man nor the boy. He died in his sleep that day, holding onto that stamp. He died with a smile on his face.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God -sniffs- I woke up crying. It was more sad than that, but I don't remember all of my dream and I had to embellish it a little bit. Half of my dream didn't make sense (as usual) so I had to add something that did. God -wipes eyes- That dream really touched me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108973824841105751?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108973824841105751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108973824841105751' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108973824841105751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108973824841105751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/god-that-was-sad-dream.html' title='God that was a sad dream...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108970217061185318</id><published>2004-07-13T01:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T02:02:50.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This song is bloody addictive...</title><content type='html'>"Roll Over DJ" by Jet, that is. It fucking rocks. Well...nothing much new. Was going to clean today. But did it happen? Do you really think it happened? Of course not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess in in Rune Scape now. We had a little...not exactly a tiff...a...misunderstanding...but everything's better now. I'm so glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Jess...she got my package. Was fondling it and everything. Made me happy. She squeed. It was funny. She didn't say "squee" but it was a squeal, which is as close to a squee as any one but Jamie can get to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a letter from my sister today. I'll type it for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dear Jamie, (-little drawing of the flag-) July 4th, 2004&lt;br /&gt;Happy 4th of July! I miss you so much. So how are you? I'm going into 4th grade. I have Mrs. Wilson, I met her and she is nice. Oh and I'm going to be in the gifted program (challenge) When are you ever going to call us? Well g2g!&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Bailey&lt;br /&gt;P.S Write back soom you Justin lover! lol Love you&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That deserves a squee. SQUEE! I LOVE MY SISTERS! -big hug- Sure they can big the biggest pains in the ass, but I LUFFS THEM! SQUEE! They got a double "squee". They might get a triple one later. SQUEE! There...a triple "squee". I think I'm going to write to all of them. After I write to Bailey first. Yeah...a few days after I mail Bailey's I'll mail Laney's and Sydney's. I love my sisters. I love hearing from them. I hope they know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked today. I made dinner. Pizza. It was funny...I was on the phone with Rachel as I was making it...and it's square...and the pizza maker is round...so it'd stop the pizza maker from revolving like it's supposed to. I laughed heartily. I really got Rachel addicted to Rune Scape. I'm glad. And, because I had to have mushrooms for the pizza, I ended up cooking all of them because I didn't want them to rot. I put too much salt on them, though. They were still good. We had banana strawberry milkshakes for desert. That and four "Smashin' Wild Berry" Hi-Cs. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a Hi-C? SQUEE! I used to drink them all the time when I was little. I luffed them. They're absolutely perfect. I only drank four because I took four out because I thought I'd need to drink that to be quinched. My thirst that is. Um...but one did it. I drank the rest anyway -shrugs-. I love Hi-Cs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really gonna try and clean tomorrow. Maybe mow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know...that exercise program is really good. I could almost sing "Bohemian Rhapsody" with it. It warmed my voice up well. You know what I'm talking about...the whole "Belzebub has the devil put aside for me...for me...for MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! -glass cracks-" part. Yeah. I could hit the last "me", but it wasn't as pleasant as it could have been. I luffs mah exercise program. I recommend it. Body Flex, I think. Actually it should be called something else because...my body doesn't really flex whilst I use this program. -dies- That's so amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I suppose there's nothing left to talk about. That and Jamie's gotta tinkle. And the drums sound like dripping water. GAH! -falls over- I NEED TO GO POTTY! -dies- &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108970217061185318?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108970217061185318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108970217061185318' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108970217061185318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108970217061185318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/this-song-is-bloody-addictive.html' title='This song is bloody addictive...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108966010140534680</id><published>2004-07-12T14:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-12T14:21:41.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-is amused, yet turned on at the same time-</title><content type='html'>You know...I knew it would happen. Right after I saw the movie. Achilles/Paris slash. I knew it. Because whilst in the theater...I had a slashy moment. And I laughed. It was bad -dies- But...it's kind of unnerving. Achilles and Paris. First off...what name could you make out of that? Achis? (-snicker, snicker-) Pachilles? (-louder snicker-) The first sounds like bad porno and the second sounds like hemorrhoid cream. (God bless spell check) But...what else is it going to be? There are so many nasty slash pairings that can come out of that movie. Let's explore the possibilities. Starting with the pretty boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Achilles&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Hector (-big, big cringe-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Agamemnon (-another, not quite as big, cringe-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Odysseus (-shrugs- I wouldn't read it, but it's not as bad)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Ajax (-is disturbed-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Patroclus (That would be...interesting -makes a face-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Nestor (-big gross out-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Priam (-throws up-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Menelaus (Between the hatred and wanting to kill each other...they have wild monkey sex...oh yes -dies laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;Paris/Aeneas (You know...that would make sense...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Paris (As stated previously)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Hector (Which isn't as bad as Paris/Hector, but is still bad)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Agamemnon (-dies laughing- YEAH RIGHT!)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Odysseus (Wouldn't be that bad, actually)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Ajax (Bad...but not as bad as some)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Patroclus (-makes a disgusted face-)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Nestor (Would make sense, but eww)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Priam (-makes a face- Eww! EWW!)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Menelaus (-covers mouth to keep from laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;Achilles/Aeneas (That would be far fetched)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Paris (Big EWW as previously stated)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Achilles (...)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Agamemnon (Same thing that goes with Paris)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Odysseus (Not as bad as some)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Ajax (-falls over laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Patroclus (-another fall over laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Nestor (IT RHYMES, THOUGH!)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Priam (Um...EWW! -throws up again-)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Menelaus (-is in pain from laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;Hector/Aeneas (Um...no?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Paris (-shakes her head-)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Hector (-long paus-)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Achilles (Not as bad)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Ajax (-dies-)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Agamemnon (Nasty...)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Patroclus (Achilles would castrate him...unless it was...)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Patroclus/Achilles (EWW!)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Nestor (Wouldn't make sense...and eww)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Priam (-hurls-)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Menelaus (-dies laughing again-)&lt;br /&gt;Odysseus/Aeneas (What? Would they have quick-but-meaningful sex whilst Troy is burning and Odysseus is burning the city?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...of course...the femslash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Briseis/Helen (Anything with Helen is nasty)&lt;br /&gt;Briseis/Andromache (Not as bad as with Helen)&lt;br /&gt;Helen/Andromache (-makes a face- I'd kill Helen if I was Andromache)&lt;br /&gt;Helen/Briseis/Andromache (-shakes her head-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything else is disgusting beyond all belief. Like...Agamemnon/Menelaus. Or Agamemnon/Priam. Yeah...anything with Agamemnon is disgusting. Actually...anything other than Achilles/Paris is revolting, but that's just me. -dies- Yeah...that's my rambling for the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108966010140534680?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108966010140534680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108966010140534680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108966010140534680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108966010140534680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/is-amused-yet-turned-on-at-same-time.html' title='-is amused, yet turned on at the same time-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108961169866036432</id><published>2004-07-12T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-12T00:54:58.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another late-night, not really the 11th of July because it's past midnight post.</title><content type='html'>Yeah...nothing much happened today. I went to church. I stayed in the front room. Ruthie didn't bother me. Wrote quite a bit until I got to a story called..."To" that I couldn't think of a thing to write for it...then I lied on my back on the couch and read "Dandelion Wine" which, by the way, is really good so far. So what if I'm only 10-20 pages into it? It's descriptive. Books about country life don't particularly interest me, and usually I'd stop reading it, but I'm deciding to stop judging a book by its cover (literally) and to read it through. Besides...it's descriptive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darin wasn't at church. Which isn't all that much of a shocker. Oh well. I wasn't really expecting him. I luffs Kevin anyways! -hug-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess...her computer...she got it all...re...Reformatted yesterday and she stored her stories onto a disk. Well...turns out "Nero" (which is my burner) was put on her computer instead of her old burner and now she needs her stories back. From me. And I plan on giving them to her. Maybe tonight. Yeah...tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it! I keep forgetting about Elijah on an old Jay Leno I saw the other day. I'm not sure if I posted this, but I was watching some show..."Blind Date", I think...and I changed it because it was boring...and just changed one channel and...BOOM! Big blue blinky eyes. I had a squee, it was funny. "-squee- 'LIJAH! -jumps to the foot of the bed and leans over it, staring at screen with mouth open-" It was amusing. I'm surprised I didn't wake my mom up. I was loud, eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom found my Aerosmith CD. I r happy. I have "Rag Doll" back. And "Same Old Song and Dance". And "Back in the Saddle". And "Love in an Elevator". I missed that CD. Although...I had the second disc of the CD. So I had "Falling In Love (Is So Hard On The Knees)". Hehe. I love that song. "My old libido has been blowin' a transistor. I feel like I have been hit by a fuck." -dies- I love Steven Tyler. I can't help it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got Doritos. All I need is some corn, an old bathrobe, and some blonde hair dye and I can be Morton! YAY! All that matters is the ending. -crunch- Hehe...corn. If I thought the whole "maíz" thing was funny...the corn thing is funnier. You know...I just said "If I thought the whole "corn" thing was funny...the corn thing is funnier. I suppose it only matters because of the thingies. You know...the...er..."" THOSE THINGS, DAMN IT! Words...not...coming...to me...GAH! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This spell check scares me. It didn't pick up the word Morton, yet it picked up the word fuck. That's off. &lt;em&gt;Really&lt;/em&gt; off. Almost Jamie off. And that's pretty off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of off...off to bed for Jamie! She's going to clean tomorrow! -crosses fingers, just in case- I'm out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108961169866036432?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108961169866036432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108961169866036432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108961169866036432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108961169866036432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/just-another-late-night-not-really.html' title='Just another late-night, not really the 11th of July because it&apos;s past midnight post.'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108952415307731458</id><published>2004-07-11T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T00:35:53.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Migraine pills are Jamie's friend</title><content type='html'>Well...I'm a bit worried about &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/__morphine"&gt;Darin&lt;/a&gt;. I dunno. I'm getting all mother hen-ish and it's all Jessica's fault. I dunno. I just...haven't seen him...and it...it's strange, you know? I'm so used to seeing him every week or every other week. Except when I'm in Ohio. But...we all know how that went. But...I just...miss him like crazy. I mean...it's not like I'm going to break down and cry or something like that, but...it's strange not seeing him. Like something mising. God...he's gonna laugh when he reads that. If he does. "Grounded" off of the computer, you know? I dunno...it hit me when I was talking to Dedra about him. Not in a bad way, of course. Just explaining the whole Kevin and Amber paradox. But...I dunno...he always ends up in a Dedra conversation. I've had so many memories with him, I suppose. That and I have no life and no friends to a point that my whole life consists of little moments I've spent with my friends. My very few friends. I miss Darin -laughs-. I told myself that I wouldn't post anything depressing in here...but I don't think this is depressing. It's just...stating my thoughts. I'm not...upset...a bit sad. I hope he gets bored tomorrow and decides to go to church...even if all we do is end up reading in his car. It wouldn't bother me. I don't really feel at ease, you know? It's odd. And you know...maybe he feels the same. You know...at least because he's stuck alone with his grandparents. I'd be depressed, too. Lord I sound like a little teenybopper obsessing over a boy. Isn't that sad? -dies- I kinda hope Darin doesn't read this. But then again -shrugs- Why not? I mean...I've told him everything? Why not him read how much I miss him? -shrugs- Oh well...doesn't matter all that much to me. I just miss my Darin and have listened to so much Queen that I'm Queen!drunk. Yes. Don't ask. I suppose it would be Queendrunk!Jamie. Hehe. It's amusing. I have "Flash" in my head. I don't even LIKE THAT &lt;a href="http://www.queenwords.com/lyrics/songs/sng11_14.shtml"&gt;SONG&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;I have decided that I am officially going to buy the new Black Eyed Peas album. I'm getting obsessive about them. Their music is very interesting. It's...GAH! What is it with me and diversity? JC...Queen...Black Eyed Peas...the Beatles? GAH! I'M OBSESSIVE! That's the word of the day. Obsessive. Can you tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oi vey...I'ma look back on this post and laugh at myself. -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New songs ah'm obsessed about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.letssingit.com/?http://www.letssingit.com/katy-rose-overdrive-hgpfv3v.html"&gt;Overdrive&lt;/a&gt; by Katy Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lyricsmansion.com/result.php?number=48008"&gt;Let's Get It Started (Spike Mix)&lt;/a&gt; by the Black Eyed Peas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.queenwords.com/lyrics/songs/sng11_12.shtml"&gt;Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy&lt;/a&gt; by Queen&lt;br /&gt;Theme by Jon Brion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://royalstag.indiafm.com/lyrics/9099/taal1.shtml"&gt;Taal Se Taal&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;em&gt;Taal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bollywhat.com/lyrics/rang_lyr.html"&gt;Tanha Tanha&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;em&gt;Rangeela&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beat of Passion from &lt;em&gt;Taal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hindilyrix.com/songs/get_song_Roja%20%28I%29.html"&gt;Roja&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;em&gt;Roja&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.letssingit.com/?http://www.letssingit.com/n-e-r-d-she-wants-to-move-real-pqcqj8z.html"&gt;She Wants to Move&lt;/a&gt; by The Neptunes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.letssingit.com/?http://www.letssingit.com/kylie-minogue-red-blooded-woman-tdw1xc6.html"&gt;Red Blooded Woman&lt;/a&gt; by Kylie Minogue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.letssingit.com/?http://www.letssingit.com/beyonce-signs-ft-missy-elliott-8zsn547.html"&gt;Signs&lt;/a&gt; by Beyonce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes...quite pathetic, I know. Overdrive...I realy tried to download it. But I couldn't find it. I luffs it. Let's Get It Started...I like it...I'm listening to it...well...I'm listening to Shut Up...but...I was listening to Let's Get It Started! Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy is mah favorite song. Theme is the theme of Eternal Sunshine...as previously stated. And...Taal Se Taal through Roja are from that Indian CD...She Wants to Move...don't ask. Red Blooded Woman...I love that song -dies- Signs rocks...it's amusing because she keeps saying "Fell in love with a Sagittarius" and...that's...Dom's sign. Also she says "sexy like a Scorpio" and "sensative as a Cancer" all in one sentence. It's fate, I tell you -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm rambling...so it's obvious I'm bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zaen finished her story. There was much sex. Much corny sex that I laughed so hard I had to take more migraine pills. In the words of Darin, it was 'mo funny. Yes. I'm off, I know. But IT WAS CORNY! -dies- All...bad dirty talk. She was rushed. It ended sweetly enough...but was just...corny. -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...I have to go to church tomorrow...it fucking sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have "Shut Up" in my head. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...some of the lyrics to "Let's Get It Started" in the link I gave are wrong...it's "cuckoo" not "woohoo". God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-dies- I just realized that the Indian songs are from Indian movies. Bollywood, you know. I wish I could watch some of them -pout-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start reading a book called "Dandelion Wine" by...Ray Bradbury or something like that. Yeah...it's special looking. Then I think I'ma read LotR or the Hobbit again. Yeah...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108952415307731458?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108952415307731458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108952415307731458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108952415307731458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108952415307731458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/migraine-pills-are-jamies-friend.html' title='Migraine pills are Jamie&apos;s friend'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108944148431768291</id><published>2004-07-09T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-10T01:38:04.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastinators unite! ... TOMORROW! </title><content type='html'>Heh...I was going to post...this morning. But Shelli called. -another nervous giggle- I'm pathetic...I know -giggles more-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...nothing much happened. Cooked lunch. Which sucked. The first tray was good, though. Second was terrible. Third was decent. Watched Will &amp; Grace...sat in the rain (Damn you Darin!), took shower, and called Jessica. Yeah...lovely...exciting day. My dream last night was interesting, though. Could have made a movie out of it if I'd remembered it. That's why I was going to post this morning. I only had the dream because I saw pieces of Thelma &amp; Louise (refer to Eye Candy O' Moment). Yeah. -coughs loudly- Uh huh. Brad Pitt. -ogle- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I suppose there's nothing more to do but to look longingly at my LotR TTT Daily calender. Yes...it has a very distraught looking Merry. -ogle- It's sad...it's from the 8th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and...Ode to July 9th. It's been a year since the Justin concert. A year. It's been a year since PotC came out. A year. GOD IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME! No wonder I've forgotten half the lines of PotC! -dies- I went to Justin's concert on the 9th. Saw PotC on the 10th. Saw a monkey on the 11th. Justin. Orlando. A monkey. The difference? Better hair. On Orlando's part, that is. Actually it was two monkeys. Justin on the 9th. Orlando/monkey on the 10th. Monkey 2 on the 11th. Yes...I have no life. In honor of that...I'm reposting the exact post I posted about the concert and so forth. Yeah...ah'm booooored. Ah know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my word...I swear to God...there are only two things that could have happened that would have made last night -pun- better. Number one: Meet Justin -has an orgasm-. And number two would be to meet Justin and have Jessica with me. God damn I missed the girl so much last night -another pun-. You see, I just went to the concert I've been waiting for since August 1999. Justin Timberlake. I swear to GOD I about died. I love him so fucking much that it's not even funny. The man is just -shudders-...as much as I make fun of him...dear sweet mother of God...-shudders again-, the boy...is hot. Well, I decided I'd give my review of the concert, so here you go:&lt;br /&gt;Christina was first, I thank God for that. Her show was about female impowerment, Power To The Women kinda thing...I'm surprised she didn't burn her bra. Not that the concert was bad, though. By the time hers was over, I was really, really glad she had came. There were only a few problems with her performance. The line up she had went up and down. First a fast song...then a slow song...first a fast song...then a slow song...Everything started out great with "Dirrty" but not until at almost the end with "Lady Marmalade" did anyone get into it. "Walk Away" was the most memorable part of the performance. I have three words for you...Male Pole Dancer -faints-. I mean LORD! The loudest screams (and Sarah and her mother's favorite part of both shows combined) came from this male pole dancer, humping poles and his hand and a chair. God damn it was hot. At first, all the little teenies thought it was Justin...because the guy was dancing and he had a shaved head. I found that hilarious. Justin can't move like THAT...Jesus Christ. And if you can Justin...e-mail me...I'll have my home address and phone number ready for you -shivers-. For what she lacked during the concert, she made up with the last songs. "Fighter" was probably the best response she got out of the audience. She sang it differently and you could hear everyone in the audience just screaming it. It was so good. Now onto Justin's concert...&lt;br /&gt;They had a pause between the concert...and it was torture. I'm just sitting there...knees shaking...heart pounding...wringing my hands (and mah little glow up "Justified" glow stick thingie)...I was all nervous. Finally, the lights went out and everyone (including me) started screaming. I was having a cow. I don't think that boy could have stalled the show any longer or been more of a tease. For the first ten minutes...it was his band playing music...and occassional flashes of him putting on his shirt -shudders- and of him walking up stairs as to go to the concert and perform -faints again-. His male dancers came out first, all dressed up with their faces hidden, looking like Justin. All the girls were screaming. I was laughing. None of them realized that when either Justin or Christina came onto stage...the camera was on them, not zooming around. Justin stalled so long, that this one male dancer in a hood actually started to have me. But he came out. And boy did he come out. Everyone was just in a frenzy. He came out doing the beat boxing in the video for "Rock Your Body". I was all dancing to it. Not as much as I did later, but dancing none the less. I knew my mom was having fun...she loves all the beatboxing. He started off with "Rock Your Body" and everyone sang to it. EVERYONE. I mean, by the middle of it, I stopped singing and listened. You couldn't even hear him. So I stopped singing and started listening closely, no success there though (except in his parts with the girl where every girl [including me] sang to the girl's part). "Right For Me" was obviously less popular since it wasn't a single, so I could actually hear him. I loved the dancing to it, went along wonderfully with the clapping. I clapped with him. Hell, I was a clapping fool. I was just loving it. I really don't remember what song was after that, but I'm thinking it was...OH YEAH! He sang Gone. He was all like "A trivia question...anyone know this one?". I was like "YEAH!" but it had a different beat...so basically I didn't know...so I lied. That's okay though. I knew it when he sang the first line. After that, he launched into Girlfriend, singing only his verse and the bridge with him and JC. I had been whispering to Sarah variations of things like "Hot damn" and "I miss Chris." "I miss Chris and JC." "I miss Chris and JC and Joey" (she had already said something about missing Lance, so I didn't have to cover that aspect) and when Justin sang JC's "I've searched around this whole damn place..." part...I put my hands on my hips, turned to Sarah and said "That fucker...singing JC's line!" -falls over laughing- Then he introduced himself (which really needs no introduction, does it?) and thanked us on behalf of Christina and himself (which Christina had done earlier). Although Christina did that, too, it was quite different. He got a little personal with the crowd, talking about how he was pleased that he was "finally back in the South". Of course, that made everyone happy. Christina mostly giggled the whole time. I luffs Christina, but Jamie luffs Justin more -grins-. He went into "Still On My Brain" and I was just swaying to it. It was so fucking sweet. I couldn't help but think that. Then was his big 20 minute beat boxing session which KICKED ASS! Loved it to death. He disappeared into the stage and his image was still dancing off screen, each little screen leaving at different times. The last one left a little spark as the other ones did, but unlike the others, it turned into lightning. Lighting...storm...storm...rain...rain...river...Hmm...I wonder what this could be. Of course it was "Cry Me A River". It was really odd hearing the crowd sing a song about a girl cheating on them right back to Justin -laughs-. I don't really remember the line up after that, but I remember what all happened. He sang "Take It From Here" where he played the guitar (a big turn on) and played a slow song (a big dancing turn off) and I felt like the only one standing. But I didn't give a fuck by then. He played a little bit of "(She Said) Take Me Now" while he introduced each of his dancers, band, and back up singers...at least two times. He played "Nothin' Else" after "Still On My Brain" or before it or something...I was surprised he sang "Nothin' Else" happy, but surprised. He sang "Last Night" which I already knew. "Senorita" was before "Still On My Brain"! YEAH! -dies- I was all happy about that. It was funny, because I swear I was the only girl in the audience who sang it like he said to...he said to sing it like "I don't know what I'm thinkin' 'bout...really leavin' wit 'chu" -dies laughing- Everybody sings it "I don't know what I'm thinking 'bout...really leaving with you" -dies- I found that amusing. Very amusing. "Like I Love You" was last. I found that funny. He turned off all the lights for five minutes just like the '99 *N Sync concert to see who all would leave. About half the audience did. I found that funny. Did they think he'd really leave without singing his first single...EVER? -dies laughing- And actually...he came back onstage...put on a brown leather jacket and grinned at the audience. "Y'all don't really think I'd leave without singing this, do you?" -falls over laughing- GOD I LOVE HIM! -falls over again- Oh...and I forgot one of my favorites -grins-. He sang "Let's Take A Ride". I about burst into tears there. I missed Jessica so fucking much. I turned to Sarah and said "This is Jessica's favorite". -hugs her to death- God I missed her so fucking much. &lt;br /&gt;Black Eyed Peas didn't show up, as I heard on the radio today, they were "detained" in Seattle. Really pissed me off. There were no opening acts. Thank the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;But all in all, the concert ROCKED! -hugs Justin- He was worth the drive, the ticket price, the expensive T-Shirts and all that shit! WORTH IT! -hugs him to death- I felt so awful after that God damn concert. Not because my feet hurt from standing...not because my ankles hurt from dancing...not because my knees hurt from swaying...not because my hips hurt from shaking my ass...and not because my back hurt from not sitting down. I wanted to see it again and again. Seeing that makes me proud to be an *N Sync fan and even more proud to be a Justin Timberlake fan. God bless that boy. He sure knows how to work that charm, even from the stage."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cringe-worthy...I know...but I was in awe. I do agree with the last sentence, but like everything, it fades. -dies- Obviously. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108944148431768291?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108944148431768291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108944148431768291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108944148431768291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108944148431768291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/procrastinators-unite-tomorrow.html' title='Procrastinators unite! ... TOMORROW! '/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108935503960374588</id><published>2004-07-09T01:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T01:37:19.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-giggles- Don't you love 100 Ways?</title><content type='html'>-giggles again- AH DO! -giggles more- Well...I know I was supposed to post yesterday. But...since I'm considering this yesterday...it will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much happened. Darin can't get on the internet. Got caught "stealing meds from Wal-Mart". Poor Darin. Wish he wouldn't steal. I hate seeing him in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to church -pouts-.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jessica doesn't like Hilary Duff/Lindsay Lohan movies. I, on the other hand, think Chad Michael Murray is fucking sexy. And ah like the Dancy boy, but that really doesn't have to do with that. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered "Le Morte D'Arthur". Yes. It has the Gareth story. And the good Lancelot story. SCORE! -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-giggles- 100 Ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose that's the news. That and Jamie has new favorite song. No...it's not 100 Ways. It's "&lt;a href="http://www.queenwords.com/lyrics/songs/sng11_12.shtml"&gt;Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy&lt;/a&gt;" by Queen. Luffs it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah'm done now. G'bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108935503960374588?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108935503960374588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108935503960374588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108935503960374588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108935503960374588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/giggles-dont-you-love-100-ways.html' title='-giggles- Don&apos;t you love 100 Ways?'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108926670291922000</id><published>2004-07-08T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T01:05:02.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the words of Scrappy...YACE!</title><content type='html'>I won a game of solitare! YAY! I never win solitare! The only time I ever won was when my dad was helping me. I just won! YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108926670291922000?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108926670291922000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108926670291922000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108926670291922000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108926670291922000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/in-words-of-scrappyyace.html' title='In the words of Scrappy...YACE!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108926290884216580</id><published>2004-07-07T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T00:01:48.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oi</title><content type='html'>I don't know what's up with me today. Can't stop saying "oi". It's odd. Very odd. But then again. So am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw King Arthur. Yep...-licks the Dancy boy- I'm updating this blog soon to add Hugh Dancy to the Eye Candy O' The Moment list thingie. Yep. Because he deserves it. I'd post my review to the movie, but I'm not quite in the mood right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll do it tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...found my old Password Journal. I should post what I put. Just to embarrass myself. It was awful. Completely awful. I started it the day I turned 13. Apparently I was still a fangirl. I feel sorry for Darin...he knew me then -hugs the Darin- Poor Darin. Had to deal with Fangirl!Jamie. -cringes- God I was pathetic. Talking about Aaron...and Aaron Carter...and...making fun of Justin (at least I got something right). God...I remember when I was 12 I was worse. Thought I was in love with the Trousersnake -big, big cringe- It was terrible. And then...after I met Christina...I got all fake ghetto. It was just...completely awful. Also feel sorry for Darin for putting up with the Ghetto!Jamie. -big cringe- That's almost as bad as Fangirl!Jamie. Eek. Terrible. But it has a lot of stuff I had when I was younger. Leslie Carter stickers from the concert. The Cleveland Rockers tickets. My (awful) 2001 season pass to Six Flags (bad picture). My Aaron Carter concert tickets. My little Indian thingie that goes on my forehead that Jamie luffs! IT STILL STICKS! YAYS! Magazine clip out of the Aaron Carter concert tour. Aaron Carter magazine cut out -cringe- Ticket stubs to "Shrek" "Tomb Raider" and "Atlantis". Magazine clip out of Tomb Raider. A Six Flags parking pass. And mah Justin necklace that broke and I wore in the sixth grade. -sigh- So many memories. Wish I had something meaningful to put in there. Found something. The thing for my Elvish Love Ring, a note from Jess and my &lt;a href="http://www.yumpop.com"&gt;Yum Pop&lt;/a&gt; thingie. YAY! -dies-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108926290884216580?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108926290884216580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108926290884216580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108926290884216580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108926290884216580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/oi.html' title='Oi'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108918915065049326</id><published>2004-07-07T03:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T03:32:30.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GAH!</title><content type='html'>IT WORKED! IT POSTED! -orgasm- I'M SO HAPPY! YAY! -loud fits of hysteria-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108918915065049326?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108918915065049326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108918915065049326' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918915065049326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918915065049326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/gah.html' title='GAH!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108918908884757060</id><published>2004-07-07T03:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T20:52:59.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-sigh-</title><content type='html'>I had posted...a while ago...but I think it messed up. Yeah...it did. It was basically saying that nothing went on today and that...Keira Knightley is trying to steal my hair and that I watched "9 to 5" until about 4 last night...and...it was funny...and had a funny quote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I don't feel too great as you can tell. Kinda feel stupid. I'm searching...for that story that I like of King Arthur. I thought Galahad was my favorite knight. Turns out it's Gareth. I feel kinda stupid about that. I mean...yes there are a lot of "G" in the Knights of the Round Table...but...-sighs- I'm all disappointed. I thought the Dancy boy played my favorite knight. I feel slightly foolish, too. Ranting about that movie. There was a woman out there...said something about "Plato's 'Utopia'". Makes me cringe, the people nowadays. It's Thomas More's "Utopia". GAH! HOW DO YOU CONFUSE PLATO AND THOMAS MORE? HOW? Maybe I haven't read enough of their literature and maybe Plato does have his own "Utopia" in a sense, but Thomas More's is the one that's known, recognized, and referenced to. But...yeah. Gareth. I wonder who plays him. -sigh-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a good note...the Dancy boy looked good. I mean -orgasms- good. Yeah. I want...to lick him. I do. Have his children. He's hot. I'm so glad I saw Ella Enchanted. Hehe...that cheers me up...leave it to the Dancy boy to make me feel better. I have a feeling that he's (-gasp-) replacing Brad Pitt as "Eye Candy O' The Moment". Or at least going to be added on there. Because he's sexxxy. With three "x"s even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting not to like Keira Knightley. She's trying to be Orlando Bloom. And it's scaring me. On this History Channel thing I watched, it showed over and over and over and over and over and over again this shot of her shooting someone from the opposing army that was blantantly stolen from the Fellowship of the Ring. Yes...the Moria one where Legolas shoots an arrow and it follows the arrow until it hits the orc inbetween the eyes. It was blantant. And it makes me sick. GAH! I hate that stuff! Taking old ideas and presenting them to an audience as a new one. I'm about to burst into a chorus of "Rag Doll". Yes...it mentions something like that. And I quoteth Steven Tyler: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Some babe's talkin' real loud&lt;br /&gt;Talkin' all about the new crowd&lt;br /&gt;Try and sell me an old dream&lt;br /&gt;A new version of the old scene"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With means...people are constantly "reinventing" ideas and presenting them as original ones. Yes. Pisses him off too. I couldn't have said it better Steven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...off to bed to contemplate the Dancy boy...and Gareth. Gah. How did I confuse Galahad and Gareth? HOW? -dies- Jesus their names are alike. Galahad, Gareth, and Gawain. I know the last one! YEAH! -dies- Dancy boy plays Galahad. Galahad the Chaste. -loud snicker- I suppose it's a good thing he's never met me -lick- -dies laughing- I feel MUCH better! -giggle- Chaste, my arse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108918908884757060?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108918908884757060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108918908884757060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918908884757060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918908884757060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/sigh.html' title='-sigh-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108918062087743483</id><published>2004-07-07T00:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T01:10:20.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I see...a fork...</title><content type='html'>Nothing much to post today. Just another day, really. Although tomorrow should be exciting. Well...as exciting as Jamie can get -dies-. I'm going to go see "King Arthur" tomorrow. I'm tempted to quickly make a shirt that exclaims "WE LOVE YOU PRINCE CHAR!" and wear it to the movies. He plays mah favorite Knight o' the Round Table, you know. Sir Galahad. -lick- -dies- I'm afraid I won't be able to tell anyone apart in that movie. They all have the same hair and body build. Yay. And Keira Knightley in brown curls frightens me. SHE'S STEALING MAH HAIR! -gets a gun- COCK 'N LOAD! -falls over laughing-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oi...I say "9 to 5" on TV last night. It was funny. My favorite quote out of it was "If you say another word about me or make another indecent proposal, I'm gonna get that gun of mine and I'm gonna change you from a rooster to a hen with one shot. And don't think I can't do it." -dies laughing- The whole &lt;a href="http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0080319/quotes"&gt;quote&lt;/a&gt; was funny to me, personally. It was hilarious. Just...painful laughing. So funny. Laughed so hard I got a migraine. Isn't that wonderful? -dies- Had it until about...7...-nods her head- Yep...'twas lovely. Well...I've got to be going...it is 1. And "King Arthur" is tomorrow. Wanna get a good seat, you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108918062087743483?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108918062087743483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108918062087743483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918062087743483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108918062087743483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-seea-fork.html' title='I see...a fork...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108905941893354231</id><published>2004-07-05T15:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T15:43:09.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Orlando Bloom? GAY? (-hysteric laughter-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/Blogspot.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/Blogspot.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-is rolling with laughter- This...was at the top of my blog. I don't know...if it's gonna be there after this but just -bursts into hysterical laughter- I found that so amusing! -is dying laughing- And for the slow people out there...no...I'm not laughing at the whole "Brad Pitt DVDs" thing. Look to the right. -is dying- And you know what makes it even funnier? LOOK AT THE RELATED SEARCHES! -is dying laughing- And the link to it, is here: "&lt;a href="http://www.good-offers.com/grenNDOZFSUMA"&gt;Orlando Bloom Gay?&lt;/a&gt;" -is just dying laughing- Oh Lord...only on my Blog could you win money for stating your opinion on the Orlijah love -snickers-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108905941893354231?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108905941893354231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108905941893354231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905941893354231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905941893354231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/orlando-bloom-gay-hysteric-laughter.html' title='Orlando Bloom? GAY? (-hysteric laughter-)'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108905892555370507</id><published>2004-07-05T15:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T15:42:04.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We've Had It Wrong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/We&amp;#39;ve%20Had%20It%20Wrong.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/We&amp;#39;ve%20Had%20It%20Wrong.1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe...I was at Bollywood World.com and I was looking at this pictures when I found this add. I laughed and laughed. Yeah...I'm off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108905892555370507?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108905892555370507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108905892555370507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905892555370507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905892555370507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/weve-had-it-wrong.html' title='We&apos;ve Had It Wrong'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108905729682171300</id><published>2004-07-05T14:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T14:54:56.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey I Stole Off of Darin's Livejournal -dies-</title><content type='html'>General: &lt;br /&gt;name: Jamie&lt;br /&gt;piercings: Ears&lt;br /&gt;tattoos: Nada &lt;br /&gt;height: 5'7 according to my driver's license (but I think I'm at least 5'8)&lt;br /&gt;shoe size: 12&lt;br /&gt;hair color: Brown &lt;br /&gt;siblings: Three: Laney, Bailey, and Sydney&lt;br /&gt;birthday: June 24th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Last...&lt;br /&gt;movie i rented: Err...The Hulk I believe...but I didn't watch it...-hugs Eric-&lt;br /&gt;movie i went to: The Notebook...bleeding well good&lt;br /&gt;song i listened to: "Signs" by Beyonce&lt;br /&gt;cd i bought: Um..."Schizophrenic" By JC Chasez, I think -dies-&lt;br /&gt;cd i listened to: Er..."Dangerously In Love" by Beyonce&lt;br /&gt;person i called: Jessica&lt;br /&gt;person that called me: Dedra&lt;br /&gt;tv show i watched: An infomercial...or the XY factor&lt;br /&gt;person i was thinking of: Darin -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I... &lt;br /&gt;have a crush on someone: Not really&lt;br /&gt;wish i could live somewhere else: Yeah&lt;br /&gt;think about suicide: Yeah...but in a negative light now...I don't wanna die&lt;br /&gt;believe in online dating: -dies laughing- Yes&lt;br /&gt;think others find me attractive: Only one other&lt;br /&gt;want more piercings: I want my ears repierced&lt;br /&gt;like to clean: Only when I'm in "the mood"&lt;br /&gt;like roller coasters: YES!&lt;br /&gt;write in cursive or print: Print...bad print&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For or Against...&lt;br /&gt;long distance relationships: For...no duh&lt;br /&gt;suicide: Against...highly against&lt;br /&gt;killing people: Against...unless it's on Rune Scape...&lt;br /&gt;teenage smoking: I'm against smoking of any kind...it's a huge turn off -looks blatantly at Hayden-&lt;br /&gt;driving drunk: Extremely against...I'm as against drunk driving as I am against fangirls&lt;br /&gt;gay/lesbian relationships: For...-giggle- &lt;br /&gt;soap operas: Er...Spanish soaps, maybe...they're highly amusing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I... &lt;br /&gt;ever cried over a girl: Hell yes&lt;br /&gt;ever cried over a boy: Another resounding hell yes&lt;br /&gt;ever lied to someone: Of course&lt;br /&gt;ever been in a fist fight: Nope&lt;br /&gt;ever been arrested: Nope again...I'm a good girl -dies-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What... &lt;br /&gt;shampoo do i use: Um...Head &amp; Shoulders and...something else I can't remember&lt;br /&gt;shoes do i wear: Anything from Payless...&lt;br /&gt;am i scared of: A crawling feeling on my arm...dying...hell...wasps... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of...&lt;br /&gt;times i have been in love: 1&lt;br /&gt;times i have had my heart: I have Darin's heart&lt;br /&gt;hearts i have broken: Er...I don't hope I've broken any&lt;br /&gt;boys/girls i have kissed: I'ma just...leave that blank -dies-&lt;br /&gt;boys: I liked? Shit...I can't count that high...-dies- I am Arkansan you know&lt;br /&gt;girls: None of your business -dies-&lt;br /&gt;boys/girls i have slept with: None&lt;br /&gt;guys you've obsessed over: obsessed? Fucking a...way too many&lt;br /&gt;times my name has appeared in the newpaper: A few...not enough, actually&lt;br /&gt;scars on my body: A hell of a lot of them&lt;br /&gt;things in my past i regret: Again...a hell of a lot of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I think i am... &lt;br /&gt;pretty: Ugly&lt;br /&gt;funny: Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;friendly: When I want to be &lt;br /&gt;loveable: At times&lt;br /&gt;caring: Er...at times&lt;br /&gt;dorky: All the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite... &lt;br /&gt;5 letter word: Penis -dies-&lt;br /&gt;candy: I dunno&lt;br /&gt;cartoon: Fairly OddParents...comic wise it's Garfield and FoxTrot -giggles-&lt;br /&gt;cereal: Peanut Butter Crunch&lt;br /&gt;color(s): Baby blue&lt;br /&gt;color nail polish: Gold -dies-&lt;br /&gt;day: I know I'm being selfish...but it's my birthday...that and the day after the last day of school&lt;br /&gt;flower: Roses&lt;br /&gt;jello flavor: Um...chocolate?&lt;br /&gt;jewelry: I like my rings...and my necklaces...especially my Scorpio necklace...and my Elven Ring&lt;br /&gt;special skills/talents: I can sing...I guess...um...I'm double jointed...er...slightly knowledgable about mythology and LotR...very knowledgable about movies...I can type really fast! Oh...and I write -grins-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person who last... &lt;br /&gt;slept in my bed: A cat...&lt;br /&gt;saw me cry: Oh Lord...my mom?&lt;br /&gt;made me cry: Er...does a movie count as a person? KEANU REEVES! THAT BASTARD! &lt;br /&gt;went to the movies with me: Mother -blushes-&lt;br /&gt;yelled at me: Oh Lord...it's been quite a while since I've been yelled at...Mrs. Auld&lt;br /&gt;sent me an email: Zaen...not personally of course...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I ever... &lt;br /&gt;said "i love you" and meant it: Yes &lt;br /&gt;gone out in public in my pajamas: -giggles- Yes&lt;br /&gt;kept a secret from everyone: Yes...&lt;br /&gt;cried during a movie: HELL YES!&lt;br /&gt;planned my week based on TV Guide: Yeah right&lt;br /&gt;been on stage: Yeppers&lt;br /&gt;been to new york: No&lt;br /&gt;been to california: No&lt;br /&gt;been to hawaii: No&lt;br /&gt;been to china: No (I feel so...untraveled now) &lt;br /&gt;been to canada: YES! -dies laughing- I'VE BEEN TO CANADA! Eh?&lt;br /&gt;been to europe: I'd kill to go...but nope&lt;br /&gt;been to south america: No&lt;br /&gt;been to australia: No (I wanna go to New Zealand!)&lt;br /&gt;wished you were the opposite sex: -laughs- Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship/Love &lt;br /&gt;do i believe in love at first sight? Yes&lt;br /&gt;do i want children one day / how many? I dunno&lt;br /&gt;most important thing in a friendship is: True and honest friendship...(don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others... &lt;br /&gt;apples or bananas: Bananas&lt;br /&gt;blue or red: Blue&lt;br /&gt;walmart or target: Wal-Mart&lt;br /&gt;spring or fall: Spring&lt;br /&gt;last meal i ate: A banana!&lt;br /&gt;last noise heard: Door closing/opening&lt;br /&gt;last smell sniffed: Cat -dies-&lt;br /&gt;criminal record: None!&lt;br /&gt;speak other languages: A bit of Spanish...just a very small amount...&lt;br /&gt;last book read: Um...Jesus...it was...GAH! WHAT WAS IT! "The Stepford Wives" -dies-&lt;br /&gt;favorite things in bedroom: Er...kitties?&lt;br /&gt;worst feeling in the world: When I get depressed about dying&lt;br /&gt;who i love: I LOVE EVERYONE! DRINKS ALL AROUND!&lt;br /&gt;who i miss: My sisters...Jess...Darin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More About Me... &lt;br /&gt;nickname(s): Jae...Baby...Angel...Princess...the list goes on...&lt;br /&gt;initials: JLH&lt;br /&gt;how old do i look: Depends on what I'm wearing and if I've had Pepsi&lt;br /&gt;how old do i act: Like I'm 5&lt;br /&gt;glasses/contacts: None&lt;br /&gt;braces: Not anymore&lt;br /&gt;pets: Too many animals...way too many animals&lt;br /&gt;do i get embarrassed: All the time&lt;br /&gt;what makes me happy: Dominic -hugs Dominic- Mah friends -hugs friends- Er...-pauses- Curly hair...yeah...curly hair...porn...-dies- Music...movies...&lt;br /&gt;what makes me upset: When I get in a mood...everything makes me upset...not getting my period damn it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108905729682171300?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108905729682171300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108905729682171300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905729682171300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108905729682171300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/survey-i-stole-off-of-darins.html' title='Survey I Stole Off of Darin&apos;s Livejournal -dies-'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108899587291449794</id><published>2004-07-04T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T21:51:12.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oi vey...</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted again! Bad Jamie! Bad! -smacks own hand- I'm crazy. I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...it's (was, really) the fourth of July! YAY! Trivia question o' the day. Is there a fourth of July in England?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: Of course there is! Do you think the English calender just went from July 3rd to the 5th? No! Stupid selfish Americans. -takes glove out and slaps- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More news. I now have a quote unquote "Reggae" accent. Mon. Heh. It's like the whole...Canadian accent thing. An "eh?" and a "mon" after every other sentence. Because if you say it after every sentence it gets annoying, eh, mon? -dies- I'm off...excuse me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-gasps- HOW COULD I? I POSTED ON THAT DAY! -sobs- I forgot to tell you about "Talk Like A Canadian Day"! It was on Canada Day (which was the 1st). I didn't do very well on it, but I hope to do better on "Talk Like A Pirate Day" (September 19th). I didn't make that one up either. But...I'ma practice my pirate accent. That means full-fledged studying. Okay...Pirates of the Caribbean...Cutthroat Island...Dodgeball (Yes...there is a pirate! -clings- I luffs him...Steve the Pirate...he was the redhead in A Knight's Tale "Pain! Lots...of pain!" I love him)...and quite possibly Princess Bride. Hey! He was a pirate! And...since he's in there...I'll watch Ella Enchanted. And RotK...THERE WERE PIRATES! I SWEAR! -dies- I'll find more with pirates. There are lots of pirate movies I have. So I'll be needin' to study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I can't think of anything right now...besides Zaen posted more of her story. JOSHTIN LOVE! -squee- Except...it's all nervous "friends-with-benefits" thing. NO! And why is there always a Backstreet Boy or two in the good AUs? WHY? WHY? CAN'T THERE BE ONE STORY WITHOUT THEM? JUST ONE! GAH! Squee it gets annoying! -dies- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm listening to Aqua again. Oi vey. I'm still obsessed. It's awful. I need to find new music. Maybe I should put in my LotR CDs. Or at least look at the pictures. Faramir. Prince of Gondor. Mother of Eowyn's babies -hump-. Not Eowyn of course. Eww. Nasty. That's like...humping...-pauses for a second- No...that's worse than humping Elrond in my opinion. Quite possibly Wormtongue. GAH! I ALMOST SAID WORMTAIL! -slaps self with a fish- Now...I'm sorry I had to do that...but you needed the fish slap to calm you. Are you calm? Yes...fish slap calm me. -dies laughing- Jesus...that's sad when I can slip from LotR to 50 First Dates since the only connection they have are Sean Astin. -giggles- Titty dance. -giggle, giggle- So amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...Aaaaaaaaaaaah'm boooooored. LEGOLAAAAAAAAAAS! S'NOT FAAAAAIR! HE'S WEARING ME SHIRT! -pouts- I wish Bagenders wouldn't have gotten canceled. -pouts- Oh well...I can still play Queen Beruthiel's Cat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARSE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never gets old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108899587291449794?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108899587291449794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108899587291449794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108899587291449794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108899587291449794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/oi-vey.html' title='Oi vey...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108866267122707163</id><published>2004-07-01T01:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T01:17:51.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know...sometimes I just wanna smack myself</title><content type='html'>I've been reading this story. I was glancing at the background...and I couldn't really make out what it was. I thought the middle was like...Frodo and Sam and the corners were some sort of design. Well...about...3/4ths way through the story, I start squinting at the left hand design and just...it hits me. I'm staring right at Achilles. -laughs- I was like "OH!" And do you know what the funniest thing is? Who I thought was Frodo and Sam was...Paris and Helen -snicker- I'm awful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...I have a hairstyle in mind! I have no idea how that came to mind! Well...Briseis...I was reading a story (it was het...IT CLAIMED IT WAS SLASH! But it wasn't...never trust *N Sync Pleasure...it's all het, God damn it! ALL HET! -hisses- Corny het, too) and there was a female character. As all female characters go...I tend to envision them looking like myself. But...she had long hair...long curls...just cascading down her back in a sort of...soft v. It was pretty. I liked it. And I suppose it's inpsired by Briseis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Briseis...She is a lucky bitch! Not only does she get to have incredible sex with Achilles (-drool-)...but she was in Attack of the Clones! Sure she never talked to Hayden...but I DON'T CARE! She played Dorme! -dies- She died at the very beginning of the movie. That's amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...porn time. See ya.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108866267122707163?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108866267122707163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108866267122707163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108866267122707163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108866267122707163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/07/you-knowsometimes-i-just-wanna-smack.html' title='You know...sometimes I just wanna smack myself'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108861837641810442</id><published>2004-06-30T12:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-30T13:00:25.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day...</title><content type='html'>Well...nothing much happened. I wrote a bit. 6 Snippets. I like them "A" kind of scares me a bit. But I like it. I was all writing inspired by a story that I just...haven't read in about a year. Looking back on it, I'm not even sure if I knew who Dom or Orlando were. -laughs- I think I knew who Orlando was when I read it...but I'm not sure about Dom...I read stories...&lt;a href="http://www.femgeeks.net/zarah/"&gt;Zarah's stories&lt;/a&gt;...the ones about Dom...and I didn't even know who he was. It was kind of amusing that I sort of chose him as my favorite character in slash (because with Dom...there's a high chance that sex was involved) and I didn't know him. And now -clings- I luffs Dom! -dies- It's so amusing. I think I knew who Orlando was. Yeah. here was an article about him in an old magazine I had gotten...with Elijah on the cover (there was either the option of Elijah or Orlando...I had gotten Elijah) and an article with Orlando in it. I don't know how...but I recognized him...(Orlando, not Elijah...it's kinda easy to recognize Elijah) and made a comment to my mom. Jesus. I remember when we first saw Fellowship of the Ring. Jesus Christ. I was with Darin and my mom...and Darin wanted to see it...and I agreed because of Elijah (-dies laughing-) and...about Amon Hen...I remember the exact time...my mom leaned over and said to me "Doesn't that blond one look like Justin Timberlake?" I suppose I was so much of a fan girl then (-cringe-) that I took offense to it...but...not matter how much I've tried to like Orlando...no matter how pretty his hair gets...I CAN'T! I've tried! I can't like him! Damn me! -laughs- I suppose that's good. But I rant about him enough. I'm subconsciously in denial. I know I am. Because I lust after him certain points in time. Except when he pisses me off. I'm like that all the time, though. If Justin pisses me off...I don't like him -laughs- And I rant (which I've been doing). Yep...I have no idea how this whole thing started. But I'm highly amused by it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...that &lt;a href="http://www.secret-panel.net/curls.html"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; I was telling you about? Jess sent it to me. I couldn't figure out until the fourth story in the series that I'd read it. I remembered it just when Elijah said that Orlando had a razor. -dies- I'm off...you know...I'm so glad I had previously read that. The story was about a high Dom obsessed with Orlando's hair. Not his hair...no. His curls. Yep. Which is highly amusing seeing who I am. And I'm glad I've read it before...because the whole 'cutting-off-the-curls' business is enough to make me cry. -dies- I will be devastated if he goes the whole Justin "I'm-a-manly-man" route. -cringes- Eww. That's nasty. We want Orlando to bathe! HE IS NOT FROM GONDOR! -dies- Gondor has no baths...Gondor needs no baths. You know...it took me until I read that quote online ("Gondor has no kings. Gondor needs no kings.") that I knew Boromir said that! -dies- I'm off...I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...that's enough babbling for today. I'm sure I've completely humiliated myself already -dies-.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108861837641810442?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108861837641810442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108861837641810442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108861837641810442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108861837641810442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/just-another-day.html' title='Just another day...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108855876577302780</id><published>2004-06-29T19:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-29T20:26:05.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ideas are flowing...</title><content type='html'>I think...for my stories...I'm going to make a new blog! YAY! Don't worry -hugs her blog- This is my favorite blog. The other one will just be used for stories. That is, if I actually decide to make one. Or am non-lazy (or perhaps lazy) enough to make a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the Theme from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I like that soundtrack. I like it a lot. All but about two songs are very relaxing. And I love those other two songs "Mr. Blue Sky" by ELO and "Wada Na Tod"...which...I'm too lazy to find out the artist. I'm listening to the latter right now. It's all...Indian. I love it. Now it's "Mr. Blue Sky". What can I say? I can't keep away from these happy...bouncy non-relaxing songs. Aren't they wonderful? Just...make me wanna sing. I love the line "Running down the avenue, see how the sun shines brightly". Maybe that's because it was in the trailer for Eternal Sunshine...when they were running in the airport...so that Howard couldn't erase Clementine from Joel's memory. -sigh- It comes out in September. And I still haven't gotten my script back -double sigh-. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lata Mangeshkar. That who sang "Wada Na Tod". Lata Mangeshkar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108855876577302780?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108855876577302780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108855876577302780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108855876577302780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108855876577302780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/ideas-are-flowing.html' title='Ideas are flowing...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108855542600231907</id><published>2004-06-29T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T12:07:19.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cupid and the Butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/cupidandthebutterfly.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/cupidandthebutterfly.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I'm only putting this on here so that I can get this picture as my quote unquote "profile picture". Yes. Isn't it special? It's a picture of a statue of Cupid and a Butterfly. In Roman myths, Cupid fell in love with a girl named Psyche. In some stories, she became the goddess of the Soul...in others...a butterfly. So...that's why he's with a butterfly. I find that so adorable. Really, really sweet. Well...that's all there is to say on that subject. Besides I really, really like this picture...and I need this link for my profile. Isn't that sad? -dies-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108855542600231907?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108855542600231907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108855542600231907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108855542600231907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108855542600231907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/cupid-and-butterfly.html' title='Cupid and the Butterfly'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108853496250453438</id><published>2004-06-29T13:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T12:09:22.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo.</title><content type='html'>I am back, once again, after a day's reprive. Which means "Yeah...I forgot to post in my blog again." Oh well. You can get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...nothing much going on today. I just...wanted to post before I go take a shower and mow...and take a shower again...and exercise...and possibly take another shower. Yeah. Boring day. But I do plan on cleaning more. So, mowing is in that catagory I suppose. I'm sick of coming home and hearing the not-so-subtle hint of "This was a perfect day to mow!"...so I'm taking it, damn it. Plus...it would be nice to frolick in the sun. For once. Well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only played  Rune Scape today...completed a quest...bought myself a mithril scimitar. Because they're pretty -dies-. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to send that package to Jess. When I write a letter. Whenever that is. Oh well. I'll get it done before the week's end, that I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better get going. I told myself I'd get off at one. But...I had other plans -coughs- Like getting off, so -dies- Stuff gets delayed. Oh well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108853496250453438?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108853496250453438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108853496250453438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108853496250453438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108853496250453438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/boo.html' title='Boo.'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108840341272066987</id><published>2004-06-28T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T01:16:52.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my!</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I haven't posted in three days! -can hear the loud gasp- Yes! I know! Three days! How can I survive? I don't know. Damn Rune Scape. It's all its fault. You know...I was mining for clay when I realized that I hadn't posted in here. AH'VE MISSED YOOOOOO! -dies- I have no life. That's why I'm a level 24 now...or a level 23...I dunno. I haven't checked. Can't tell anyway. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I haven't exactly tallied my birthday presents, but...from what I can see...I got&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usher's "Confessions"&lt;br /&gt;Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;A compliation of all of the soundtracks of the Lord of the Rings trilogy&lt;br /&gt;Lord of the Rings:Fellowship of the Rings "Activity Studio"&lt;br /&gt;Queen's "Greatest Hits I &amp; II"&lt;br /&gt;A Fairly Oddparents beach towel (-dies-)&lt;br /&gt;A Fairly Oddparents coloring thingie (-dies again-)&lt;br /&gt;Cat playing cards (don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful "Elvish Love Ring" from Jessie-ca&lt;br /&gt;Nothing from Darin&lt;br /&gt;A collection of all Tolkien's "Histories of Middle-Earth"&lt;br /&gt;A LotR trivia game (based on the book, not the movie)&lt;br /&gt;Perfumes&lt;br /&gt;A manicure set&lt;br /&gt;Toe socks&lt;br /&gt;Arwen tin (don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;Aragorn mousepad (don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;Arwen and Aragorn magnet (don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;A LotR magazine&lt;br /&gt;"50 First Dates" (Damn it, I love Sean Astin "Watch this -flexes pecks-" "Enough with the titty dance!" -dies laughing-)&lt;br /&gt;A documentary of Troy (Hopefully with Brad Pitt in it)&lt;br /&gt;"Secret Window" (-licks Johnny...er...Morton- A thousand jokes out of that one...-giggle- Corn...)&lt;br /&gt;Two Beatles DVDs I already had from Sarah (it's the thought that counts)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't think of anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically I've used the Arwen tin (for candy Sarah brought over), "50 First Dates", the LotR magazine, the trivia game, the ring from Jess (it's so pretty! GAH!), the coloring thingie, Queen's CD (over and over and over and over...I'm playing it now...I'm obsessed with "Killer Queen", "Bicycle Race", "Don't Stop Me Now", and "Seven Seas of Rhye" -giggles- The last one amuses me highly), Usher's CD (only a bit, though...played it twice)...and that's it -dies- Ooh...got a lobster/crab/shrimp/cheese rolls/salad dinner at Red Lobster! OOH! And I saw two movies! YAY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey kids! It's time for Jamie's Movie Reviews! (Yay!) WARNING! SPOILERS AHEAD! So if you read...you'll know a bit too much about the following movies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Terminal. Funny. Not as funny as I expected...but funny. People laughed at some of the parts I cried. I know that feeling...to feel completely lost and rejected...and I didn't find anything amusing about certain situations. Cried. Laughed. Cried. Laughed. Ogled. Cried. Laughed. Yes...Diego Luna...is hot. It's now official. I'm not obsessed. I'm just stating the obvious. That and I now love Zoe Saldana. Love her. She was in there. Yes. I loved her. She played...er...that one...girl on Drumline and...Anna Marie (I think her name was) in Pirates of the Caribbean. The one who slapped Jack twice ("Let me guess, you didn't deserve that one either." "No...that one I deserved" "-slap- You stole my ship!" "Borrowed...borrowed your ship...with intentions of returning it" "But you didn't!" -is getting carried away-). Yes. She married Diego Luna's character...and was a Trekkie. Hehe. Was amusing. Very amusing. Tom Hanks was brilliant. Except his accent slipped once. He said "Taxi!" and...sounded like himself...he didn't use that accent. It was good though. He convinced me! -laughs- I loved it. I recommend seeing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Notebook. SO FUCKING GOOD! -falls over- It was wonderful! Funny...sad...and just...wonderful. Chick flick, yes. But...there's a nekid Ryan Gosling. That makes me happy. Very happy indeed. He was in the Mickey Mouse Club, you know. He got hot...while Justin...he kinda...deflated. Yeah. And DAMN if Ryan doesn't look good nekid. No...it's not naked. It's nekid. Possibly with two k's. Not three (that's being rude). But two. No pun intended (-snicker, snicker- But). I would like James Marsden, but...he plays Cyclops. He plays Cyclops well. JAMIE HATES CYCLOPS! -kills him- Bastard. JEAN GREY BELONGS WITH WOLVERINE YOU LITTLE BITCH! -heavy breathing- Sorry...habit. Err...Well...it was a really, really good movie. On the crying list, it rates number 2. Yes. I have cried so hard this movie that it was up to number two. Only under Moulin Rouge. Because this one ended nicely. Made me happy. But I cried. Thank God for those portible tissues. But...it was awfully sad. She was all...happy while he was suffering...dad dying...and...losing her...and his best friend and -shags him- Yeah. -laughs- I'd kill to play Allie. -giggles- MULTIPLE SEX SCENES! -dies giggling- Lots of heavy kissing. Looked quite nice. He did, of course -shudders- I'd do him. -pauses- Maybe -laughs-. But all in all...great movie...go see it...if not to see a good movie, to see Ryan Gosling NEKID! It's worth the money -nods her head- Oh yeah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I suppose that's all the news I have. I'ma go back to listening to mah music and playing Rune Scape. Ta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108840341272066987?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108840341272066987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108840341272066987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108840341272066987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108840341272066987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/oh-my.html' title='Oh my!'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108813882921849515</id><published>2004-06-24T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T23:47:09.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End of a birthday...</title><content type='html'>This isn't exactly the Sweet Sixteen I expected. Not that it was bad (except that my Happy Meals weren't Neopet Happy Meals like they were supposed to be [today is the last day for those Neopet Happy Meals]. The bastards gave us Legos -laughs-), but...it just wasn't like I pictured. I'm not the person I thought I would be when I was sixteen. Not that that's a bad thing, but just...it's strange. I wish I had a lot of really good friends, you know? It feels like only three people in this whole world know it's my birthday and that bothers me. I don't know why. I'm not complaining, just stating the way I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guilt money wasn't much. Mom suspects it's because Grandma's sick and he's saving up money for a visit down there. I hope Grandma's gonna be okay. Linda says she's acting strangely. I hope she doesn't die. Not only do I not wanna have to face a funeral with father dearest, I don't...I just don't want her to die. She's my grandma, you know? Both of my grandpa's died...and...I don't wanna lose another grandparent. I just don't. I mean...it's not like we're really close or anything...but I love her...a lot...and it would...break so many people around me...my mom...my aunt...my cousin...my uncle...my dad...I hope she's gonna be all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, my birthday did go very well. My cake is beautiful. I love it. I can't bare to cut the picture. It's pathetic. I'm listening to the Queen CD I got...it completely rocks. I like "Killer Queen", "Bicycle Race", and just...any song on the first album. The second one scares me quite a bit, but -shrugs- It's still good. "Killer Queen" was this one song I had been looking for for quite a while, so I'm happy. I got the "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" soundtrack. It's coming out in September. Hidalgo and Ella Enchanted are coming out in August. I wish it was sooner. Especially Ella Enchanted. I associate Queen and Ella Enchanted. It's just a habit. I also got a LotR magazine (not an official one, but a LotR themed one) which has pictures o' Merry (picture) and a bitty picture of Faramir. I pouted. My mom actually gave me a present I'd already had -giggles- It was funny. Sarah and I watched first Cry Baby then Charlie's Angels:Full Throttle. Ooh...and I was woken up just to see Usher's "Confessions". -giggles- I was tempted to lick it. I did lick the cover of "Secret Window" -giggle-. I like Joh...Morton -dies giggling- We had corn on the 21st to celebrate the release of "Secret Window". -giggle- So funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked Jess' present a lot...if not the most. She gave me this one ring that looks like the One Ring and the inscription is...er...around here somewhere...Ahh. Here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"One ring to show our love&lt;br /&gt;One ring to bind us&lt;br /&gt;One ring to seal our love&lt;br /&gt;And forever to entwine us."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-giggles- Entwine. -giggles- Ent wine. That's so terrible. But it's so sweet. She has one. It fits my ring finger perfectly. Hardy har har. I had to take off my Catechism ring, though. I hope momma's okay...she seemed hurt, but then she played it off. I really don't wanna hurt her feelings. I love mah momma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll list a more...specific list of my birthday presents tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, dear Sweet Sixteen. I'm glad I turned sixteen (-giggles- and got my driver's license! YAY! It was easy...Veronica was there too) and...I had a good...quiet birthday. Not exactly what I wanted, but it'll do. I can't wait until our Red Lobster dinner. I wish Jess could come...well...I'll just...go now...savour this moment. It still is my birthday, you know. -sighs- I hate the end of this day. -sighs again- Oh well...it does come. And it is here. Only 14 minutes and it's gone. Another 365 days must pass again before I'm another year older. It's like an eternity, but like a second. I must savour it whilst I can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...leaving you on that depressing note...have a good Jamie's birthday. 'Night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108813882921849515?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108813882921849515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108813882921849515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108813882921849515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108813882921849515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/end-of-birthday.html' title='End of a birthday...'/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337792.post-108811283974420815</id><published>2004-06-24T16:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T16:33:59.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/640/Denial.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/132/1177/320/Denial.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S MAH BIRTHDAY! WHERE ARE MY PRESENTS? -jumps around like crazy- It's mah birthday...I'm sixteen now. The big 1-6. You should be afraid. Very afraid. I got my driver's license, complete with bad photo! YAY! I'm so happy...CAKE! I HAVEN'T GOTTEN MY CAKE! AH WANT MAH CAKE! -starts chanting "Cake, cake, cake, cake" over and over and over again- YAY! Mah birfday! So happy. -jumps around like a weird person- Don't worry...more details later...after I've gotten Jessica's present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337792-108811283974420815?l=orlabossa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/feeds/108811283974420815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7337792&amp;postID=108811283974420815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108811283974420815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337792/posts/default/108811283974420815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://orlabossa.blogspot.com/2004/06/its-mah-birthday-where-are-my-presents.html' title=''/><author><name>Orlabossa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04434173520096251372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7052/446/1600/img3_big.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
