<?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-8447722122578230838</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:59:49.049-08:00</updated><category term='Farmer Austin'/><category term='How it began'/><category term='Not what I was looking for'/><category term='Work is what I do'/><category term='Old fashioned fun'/><category term='Money advice'/><category term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Difficulty</title><subtitle type='html'>Man say to me, "Why you have orange stripe cutting off your head"?  I say, Austin no smartie, more of tootsie roll.  The world may never know without help.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-7779952279164184179</id><published>2011-05-02T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T13:20:29.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An all time high</title><content type='html'>What's a man to do on a Monday morning when he only has 12 more hours to spend money on ebay before the coupon expires?  I'll tell you what this man does, he thinks real hard about something he needs from ebay that is worth getting a $22 discount.  I looked for gift cards but that isn't something I really need.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I searched for custom wheels for Bonnie but it appears they quit making those in 1995.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I passed over many items and daily deals trying to find that perfect thing worthy of my coupon usage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The final answer?  Toilet Paper.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not just any toilet paper either, if I wanted run of the mill TP I'd hit up the local store but I require a product that makes me feel like a King.  The answer to that?  Jumbo rolls of TP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://thmb.inkfrog.com/thumbn/bigrolls/JT12Light.jpg=450" alt="Click here to Enlarge" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not like I've had many visitors since moving out but this should keep them out of the bathroom if they do come over.  Who wants to be attacked by a roll of 600 feet of toilet paper at once?  On the good side, I have 12 huge rolls coming my way so if you are ever in need, let me know and I'll share.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've calculated my TP usage (thanks Tyler for the inspiration of thinking of the cost of everything) and this should last me at least 4 years at my current rate.  $8 isn't so bad for many happy and clean MBM's. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bad news is I ran out on Saturday so I'm hoping this gets shipped quickly or else...I could be coming to borrow some for a few days.  I'll repay you if you'd like.  Thanks in advance!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-7779952279164184179?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/7779952279164184179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=7779952279164184179&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/7779952279164184179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/7779952279164184179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2011/05/all-time-high.html' title='An all time high'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3263101124240299033</id><published>2010-07-29T16:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T16:41:12.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll buy it if you make me laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Jaxon is one funny kid.  All day he's been saying no more beans but we are just about home for the day and we stop on the side of the road to look at a man's paintings.  We spend quite a few minutes looking and I ask Jaxon which one he likes.  &lt;div&gt;He replies, you know you need an artistic eye to enjoy these.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed and decided to get out of the car to see if I had the artistic eye.  After looking around some more, Jaxon calls me over, this time he said, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one speaks to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: What is it saying?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jaxon: Walk my streets, climb my mountains but don't eat my fruit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/TFIQndfF8pI/AAAAAAAACEs/SkwL-cWqWKU/s400/IMG_2744.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499476365088780946" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that was so funny that I said to the man we'll take this one because it speaks to my brother.  I told him what it said to him and we all laughed.  I think the painter laughed more because he was happy we were spending $10 to buy one of his paintings.  Hey he could be famous one day?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does it speak to anyone else?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3263101124240299033?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3263101124240299033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3263101124240299033&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3263101124240299033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3263101124240299033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2010/07/ill-buy-it-if-you-make-me-laugh.html' title='I&apos;ll buy it if you make me laugh'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/TFIQndfF8pI/AAAAAAAACEs/SkwL-cWqWKU/s72-c/IMG_2744.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-1621468660861628425</id><published>2009-05-07T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T01:28:07.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Avoid Trouble</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SlRYbXlQdeI/AAAAAAAACC0/uCMvIA5XuU8/s1600-h/PoliceLights2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356003084060358114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SlRYbXlQdeI/AAAAAAAACC0/uCMvIA5XuU8/s400/PoliceLights2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have decided to share a bit of knowledge. I am pretty boring when it comes to doing thing that can get you into trouble. Here is what I have learned from my first experience with California's finest...CHP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Stay out of scary areas late at night, in case you need to stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Don't drink before or after you get in the car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Open the door to talk, it is more personable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is the story, I was working late...well some would say early, but I was leaving work about 5:30 am the other day. At 3 I thought I was tired but by 5:30 it was official. I drove onto my favorite freeway of all time (280) and was reminded of Kramer when he adopted a section of the freeway and painted the lines so the lanes were wider. As I merged onto the freeway I saw no one but one car way behind me and I thought it would be cool to drive all over like I owned the road. I did not do this however. I maybe went a mile on the freeway when the 4th of July took off behind me. I noticed that the fireworks were only red and blue and after a little bit of a chase (maybe 75 feet) I pulled over. It wasn't hard to pull over since I was in the far right lane to begin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was confused why I was being pulled over, I guess that is what they all say when they get caught. A kind man in some sort of uniform comes up to my car and I opened the door, oh wait, my seat belt is connected to the door so I shut it, took my harness off and then opened the door only to be asked if I was okay. I thought what kind man to worry about my welfare out on the streets. Then came the suspicious "Have you been drinking tonight" question. I had not, and my new caring friend wanted to see a picture of me and I only had my license so I gave it to him and he said he'd be back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was not clear on why he asked me if I had any warrants or if I was on probation before he went back to his car but I laughed at him and denied all of it. He came back and said have a good night and to drive safely. Now, what a kind man I thought, I look forward to meeting up with him again some day. I am happy to know people are looking out for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was one question he asked that I did not have an answer to when he asked it. He asked if I had been distracted reaching for something. I didn't think I was but then I realized I had put hand gel on as I gained speed up the on ramp. I had been practicing my hands-free driving by using my knee and realized maybe that is why he thought I was drunk. I may have gone into the other lane a bit but he made it sound like I was driving in the shoulder. Not true and for the record I don't drink and drive, I'd hate to spill on my blue cloud of comfort which is what you will find inside Bonnie. To my friends, stay out of trouble, hope my pointers help and don't try to drive without your hands properly placed on the steering wheel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-1621468660861628425?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/1621468660861628425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=1621468660861628425&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1621468660861628425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1621468660861628425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-to-cruise.html' title='How to Avoid Trouble'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SlRYbXlQdeI/AAAAAAAACC0/uCMvIA5XuU8/s72-c/PoliceLights2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-4193273486630624397</id><published>2009-02-27T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T19:20:11.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I tried to look for a hot girl to show some people that are worried about my dating habits. They wanted an example of a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;movie star&lt;/span&gt; I thought was pretty. I couldn't think of one. The reason this happened could have something with the fact that where I live these are the kinds of girls we see on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FAT CAMP Do I really have to go into this. Even the two &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;exmodels&lt;/span&gt; aren't cute. We'll see in 100 pounds but usually fat doesn't bother me since she either knows where to eat or how to cook. That translates into she'll feed my well when I'm looking for prospects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;SURVIVOR&lt;/span&gt;- Trying to look for love after someone hasn't had a bath for a few weeks isn't really my style. I like clean girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LITTLE PEOPLE- I'd probably lose her in a crowd and not know which one she was as I towered over everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIRTY JOBS- When he goes gooey duck hunting, there aren't any pretty ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMERICAN IDOL-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so the bikini girl was hot. I'm glad Simon pointed it out so I looked up from my computer in time. Then I looked again and she's off the list. The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; must make her look better than still photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides her, this is what my list would look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalie from Monk. Maybe I just love her since this is my favorite show. She's funny and seems like she's not to wild and crazy especially for living in San Francisco. Actually the truth is I want to be like Monk, that's how I see myself so a tough &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lovin&lt;/span&gt; gal like her is what I need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I meant to post this a long time ago and just realized I still had a few treats in the bag to post today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SgOWGB1LhbI/AAAAAAAACCQ/UQ7KUVYNhSs/s1600-h/1Austinnat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333271414051669426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SgOWGB1LhbI/AAAAAAAACCQ/UQ7KUVYNhSs/s400/1Austinnat.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-4193273486630624397?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/4193273486630624397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=4193273486630624397&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4193273486630624397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4193273486630624397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-tried-to-look-for-hot-girl-to-show.html' title=''/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SgOWGB1LhbI/AAAAAAAACCQ/UQ7KUVYNhSs/s72-c/1Austinnat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-2392806248841082656</id><published>2009-02-20T20:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:27:18.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love being an Uncle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-NF1KXuyI/AAAAAAAAB-8/mjV8FIMwRRM/s1600-h/Atwoods+363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305114017375173410" style="WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-NF1KXuyI/AAAAAAAAB-8/mjV8FIMwRRM/s200/Atwoods+363.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From the California part of the world here are a few reasons I love being an uncle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;#1. I have the best niece ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;By far she's my favorite niece and I wonder if I'll ever get one that compares.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;#2. She says my name.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Basically if she asks I give so I love it when she asks me for things and wants to play.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;#3. I get to babysit her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wild park party or sleepover, depends on the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-NGCPqvSI/AAAAAAAAB_E/RlAVRIQq0C8/s1600-h/Atwoods+364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305114020887051554" style="WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-NGCPqvSI/AAAAAAAAB_E/RlAVRIQq0C8/s200/Atwoods+364.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And other things too, but I want to focus on #3. I thought money was important when doing a job but this week Hayley has paid me in Joe-Joe's Cookies from Trader Joe's and Ice Cream. I think she's fattening me up for the harvest but she claims I'm not going anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305116295672467522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-PKcexkEI/AAAAAAAAB_M/EIM48QdOC08/s320/1joe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got the Joe-Joe's which are like peppermint oreo's in case you didn't know, I really wanted some vanilla ice cream to crush them up in and make an exquisite flavor of cold creamy lover's paradise. But I just didn't go get it done. This was on Tuesday I believe. We have all been eating the goods but then tonight I came home and Hayley said she bought ice cream. She apologized for buying low-fat stuff because I usually tell her I want all the glory of ice cream when available. So I take the four remaining Joe's and crush them up into this cookies and cream to make a mixture of WOW! So as Avy sleeps and I pretend to babysit the little angel, I ate some amazing ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead give it a try. No not babysitting, you have to train for that. Try making some delicious ice cream at the expense of a loved one. Thanks for the high paying jobs sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should also throw in that the only reason she bought the cookies in the first place was because they were only $1. I'm glad I'm so valuable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-2392806248841082656?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/2392806248841082656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=2392806248841082656&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2392806248841082656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2392806248841082656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-i-love-being-uncle.html' title='Why I love being an Uncle'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SZ-NF1KXuyI/AAAAAAAAB-8/mjV8FIMwRRM/s72-c/Atwoods+363.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3713866218005191035</id><published>2009-01-17T01:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T01:32:11.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone's happy when carpets are clean</title><content type='html'>Currently I am pressed up in the corner of the living room. About 12 am Tyler started cleaning the carpets with his Kirby vacuum that doubles as a shampooing wonder. I am waiting for him to go to bed so I can walk on it without him seeing. Bad news is, he used this contraption the other night when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Avy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; threw up in her room. Hayley took her into the bathroom to clean her up, I was in the living room throwing away a diaper and when I look down the hall I have Mr. Atwood cleaning his carpets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGkHLmJG3I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/z7ljJ1DJS54/s1600-h/1kirby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292191480415853426" style="WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGkHLmJG3I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/z7ljJ1DJS54/s400/1kirby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Once again it was late at night but this time he was topless. I was a little shocked and tried to walk by without causing a scene of having a top half naked person foaming the carpets. And so the story goes, tonight I am in the corner, just content that today he cleaned the carpets and they look great and of course he looked fine as he did it with all his clothes on. I should also add that the reason his shirt was off is owed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Avy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; since she puked all over him and the carpet. He's a saint, a good egg and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; brother according to the law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGk8xWbgoI/AAAAAAAAA9g/YRK7G9l1Iv4/s1600-h/Atwoods+209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292192401083564674" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGk8xWbgoI/AAAAAAAAA9g/YRK7G9l1Iv4/s200/Atwoods+209.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It is fun to pick on him a lot but the good news is he only pays attention to a small portion to it. Hayley taught me a new trick and if I don't say the words Chess, Money or Worms, he isn't usually tuned into our conservations. So Ty, here's your shout out for being so funny even if you don't get why we laugh. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGjw6luA-I/AAAAAAAAA9I/qFoNtlnXVE0/s1600-h/Atwoods+209.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3713866218005191035?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3713866218005191035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3713866218005191035&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3713866218005191035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3713866218005191035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2009/01/everyones-happy-when-carpets-are-clean.html' title='Everyone&apos;s happy when carpets are clean'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SXGkHLmJG3I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/z7ljJ1DJS54/s72-c/1kirby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3303409975120136892</id><published>2009-01-11T00:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T01:42:19.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>Alright alright, I'll let you in on what I've been up to these days. To start I am sorry I haven't been writing here. This is the story of why I haven't been posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few posts down there is a post about how great my job is. Well it just so happens that during the week I posted that, actually 2 days before I posted that I quit my job. So since October 31st I haven't worked with people's money. However, at the first of October I started a new job and it didn't take long to realize that working 65 or more hours a week plus 15 hours commute time plus school wasn't going to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the problem started. I quit my job at the credit union but didn't tell anyone. I didn't want my family to know because I had already bought a ticket home for Christmas and I wanted it to be a surprise. For 2 months I lived this little lie and I did a fine job. However my big sister couldn't keep her lips as tightly sealed and I soon got the news that dad had been let in the circle of trust. That meant that each day I'd get a text or call from him saying how excited he was and all that father stuff. I had planned to go home on the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; but the week before I got various requests for work that I couldn't turn down and deep down I didn't know what I was going to do in Idaho freezing off my hyena for almost 3 weeks while the kids were in school and the parents were at work. Ya I know I could have played with Sally and boys but I didn't think of that until I cancelled my ticket home in order to stay here and work more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hirama&lt;/span&gt; came out the week before I left and it was not easy to pretend like I had to go to work each day but I managed to keep her off my trail. She left on Saturday DEC 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Atwoods&lt;/span&gt;. I left on the 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; and called up the shuttle to take me to San Jose Airport. I was sitting at the gate a little early when they made an offer to anyone who was flexible with travel plans. I let it sink in for a few moments and then approached the woman and took her for all she was worth. I was soon in a luxury sedan on my way home. The same guy picked me up to go back at 4 pm. I checked in, went to the gate, made them aware that if there wasn't room I'd be happy to stay and went off to eat my airport cafe dinner that Delta paid for. Better believe I spent all $14 of those meal vouchers. Turns out I didn't get on this flight either and walked out to another shuttle ride home (all free of course) another $400 travel voucher, a ticket to fly the next day and more meal vouchers, and a free shuttle ride to San Fran since I'd be flying out of there instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day as much as I wanted they were not overbooked so I handed my coat to the kind lady and kicked my feet up in first class, compliments of Delta. She kept calling me Mr. Bird and kept bringing drinks. No wonder first class has their own bathroom, they give you all the liquids possible. Besides that it wasn't too exciting because when it was my time to go to the silver throne, I couldn't get the door open. After half of first class that was acting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unfirstclass&lt;/span&gt; enough to look at me laughed at me dropping my shoulder into the bathroom door with out any luck, I sat back down and politely asked the stewardess when she came by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into Salt Lake about 8:30 pm. The shuttle to Idaho was to leave at 9. I waited and waited, around 9 an airport worker told us our bus was down the road so we made the trek to the bus. Now this was the worst bus ride ever. Started off with a "code red" before we were even moving. Once we did start moving around 9:30, we were going the wrong direction only to return to the airport at 10. We finally left the airport and it appeared the bus driver had on a bigger coat than I did because the heat was not on. I couldn't sleep and froze the whole way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend picked me up about 2 am and we did what all people do in Idaho, we went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;. Of course we ate Burger King first. We were living the high life in Idaho Falls before we went back to Shelley. Now it's 3:30 am, I get out of his car, dress up as Santa which was all I had in my carry on, rang the doorbell twice, then remembered Hayley told me she'd leave the door unlocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SWm9-OiBBWI/AAAAAAAAA9A/fvcq3-uaFes/s1600-h/1santa2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289968114073666914" style="WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SWm9-OiBBWI/AAAAAAAAA9A/fvcq3-uaFes/s400/1santa2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I'll never understand why kids are scared of SANTA. How do you resist this guy at your party?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Yes it was unlocked but I had already gotten &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Hirama&lt;/span&gt; out of bed. As Santa turned the corner she saw him and screamed a scream that was loud enough to raise the dead but yet, not wake up my father in the next room. She quickly slammed the bedroom door and I chased after. She screamed some more and one by one the shock of having Santa as well as your brother/son home was shared. However, by this time, little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;yappy&lt;/span&gt; told my other older sister so there was no shock factor there that I came home. We stayed up for the next hour or two talking and then went to bed. I had to tell them all about what had been going on and this is why I haven't posted. Because I've been doing things I normally wouldn't do if I was working 9-6 and I didn't want my family to know about it. Now I can get back to posting and sharing my fun and exciting life with others. I know that's just what you'd like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you had a Merry Christmas and all the best in the new year.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3303409975120136892?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3303409975120136892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3303409975120136892&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3303409975120136892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3303409975120136892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SWm9-OiBBWI/AAAAAAAAA9A/fvcq3-uaFes/s72-c/1santa2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-2522926252524441769</id><published>2008-11-25T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T22:50:20.674-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old fashioned fun'/><title type='text'>Prospect Found</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Lately I've been feeling helpful. I feel like since I never spend money I should now do my part to boost the economy. With that said, I got new tires on Bonnie. She should be good for another 80,000 miles which should last me at least until I'm 30. YES I plan to have Bonnie at that time unless of course by then I have too many kids to fit in her spacious interior. That would mean in the next 7 years I'd have to find a wife and have 4 kids to fill her up. However there is bad news with this, it took about an hour longer than they told me and when I went to pay..&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272846773432670354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzqNCWE2JI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/0MDlrse8ato/s320/000709.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girl has a button up polo shirt. It was unbuttoned and there was nothing to be seen other than her exceedingly large amounts of chest hair. Yes that is correct, along with my tires, I got valuable knowledge which is to never go to Tire Centers to find future girlfriends. Either way, I got a deal on some new tires. I'm sorry if this is a common problem among women but I wasn't aware. Now I know. Makes me one smart and lucky life-learning student.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imagine a  &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzs4y7VcoI/AAAAAAAAA8g/4tR-gALL3JQ/s1600-h/1hairywoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272849724231479938" style="WIDTH: 85px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzs4y7VcoI/AAAAAAAAA8g/4tR-gALL3JQ/s320/1hairywoman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; little &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzs41cj1II/AAAAAAAAA8Y/bqzRNCZkU70/s1600-h/1hairyman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272849724907705474" style="WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzs41cj1II/AAAAAAAAA8Y/bqzRNCZkU70/s320/1hairyman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-2522926252524441769?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/2522926252524441769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=2522926252524441769&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2522926252524441769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2522926252524441769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/11/prospect-found.html' title='Prospect Found'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSzqNCWE2JI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/0MDlrse8ato/s72-c/000709.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-461944035816935701</id><published>2008-11-20T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T20:30:53.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am my own person</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Here I go taking a stand for something. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272447536910755442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt_GaZy5nI/AAAAAAAAA8I/UvyW0WMnn9k/s320/puppet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Some of you may believe I am Hayley's puppet. No matter how much I want to do a puppet show for little niece and friends, I myself am not a puppet. (Anyone have puppet's they can share for a short program one weekend?) &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She graduated from the cellar, so did I.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8xSL9UyI/AAAAAAAAA8A/CxTmSU6kYx8/s1600-h/shelley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272444974904726306" style="WIDTH: 112px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8xSL9UyI/AAAAAAAAA8A/CxTmSU6kYx8/s320/shelley.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She moved to California, so did I.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8wzsQq8I/AAAAAAAAA7w/yVfNxsQMGgo/s1600-h/CaMap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272444966718712770" style="WIDTH: 111px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8wzsQq8I/AAAAAAAAA7w/yVfNxsQMGgo/s320/CaMap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was a DeAnza Don, so am I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8xVnX7YI/AAAAAAAAA74/FJc-yqkC7U8/s1600-h/deanza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272444975825022338" style="WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 89px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt8xVnX7YI/AAAAAAAAA74/FJc-yqkC7U8/s320/deanza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She moved in with Tyler, so did I.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSZNvsg_zpI/AAAAAAAAA64/WfSOkStKQzM/s1600-h/Atwoods+211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270985895682494098" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSZNvsg_zpI/AAAAAAAAA64/WfSOkStKQzM/s320/Atwoods+211.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She uses Gmail, so do I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt3YAp7lrI/AAAAAAAAA7I/Hl8Sb0_w-1g/s1600-h/gmail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272439043143734962" style="WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 53px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt3YAp7lrI/AAAAAAAAA7I/Hl8Sb0_w-1g/s320/gmail.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt3vuoDuOI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/-_GwMLnsZXA/s1600-h/blogspot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272439450620901602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 41px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt3vuoDuOI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/-_GwMLnsZXA/s320/blogspot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She started a blog, so did I. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She started a Facebook, and this is where I draw the line.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though Hayley would have to be in my top 5 of siblings, I just can't do this one. I'm aware my two oldest sisters have a profile and more friends and counting than I do. This could ruin a family tradition that 1/4 of the family does. I know Hirama (name changed to protect the innocent) won't be starting a Facebook or a Blog. I don't want to put that added pressure on her if I were to add one. You know like the pressure of...well look at that, the two oldest children are married, I wonder who is next in line. That's the sort of stuff I'm trying to save Hirama from all the hootie hoo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With that I am taking a stand to not avoid contact from people I know, but to be free on this here blog. I just never know what to write about. I want things to be interesting but how interesting can my life be?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you find it interesting that I just ate some delicious Minestrone soup and I couldn't hit my mouth for anything, soup kept dripping down my chin, no matter how hard I tried, the juice was on the loose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh here's lame one, the house guests are on the road for vacation so I'm here. Now it's 9:22pm and I just spoke for the first time since awaking. My boss called me and so I had to break the silence. What is even more amazing is I haven't left the house, well, I did cross the street to bring Bonnie closer to the house, but I didn't see anyone out there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and Hayley, since my name will be at the top of your list until someone else takes the top spot, I just want you to know that this is dedicated to you and has been written as a Christmas gift. Merry Christmas! Other siblings, be on the watchout, I may find a gift for you too around here. Except for those that don't allow me to post their true identity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-461944035816935701?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/461944035816935701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=461944035816935701&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/461944035816935701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/461944035816935701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-am-my-own-person.html' title='I am my own person'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSt_GaZy5nI/AAAAAAAAA8I/UvyW0WMnn9k/s72-c/puppet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-7629319660698409216</id><published>2008-11-09T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:02:21.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up doc</title><content type='html'>So he's not really a doc, but his name is Pete. Now before I talk him up I better get Bonnie back and test her out. It is true my friends, Bonnie tried to die on me this week. Aside from me being cheap, I really do love Bonnie and it rips me apart to have spent the last few days so close yet so far away from her. This Pete guy looks like the truck driver on the classic "ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING". He's a good man and hopefully a great mechanic as I have entrusted him to put in a new transmission in my 119,000 jewel. &lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SReyBmYmnWI/AAAAAAAAA6A/tff0trLkz78/s1600-h/bonnie1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266874029786439010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SReyBmYmnWI/AAAAAAAAA6A/tff0trLkz78/s320/bonnie1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;You won't be seeing my car which p.s. has much nicer rims, up for sale at Lucky Auto, Reason #1 is this is out of state, and as of today I couldn't take her that far. #2, they want $2200 for this hottie, when I looked up the value of mine the other day at work I was getting quotes of $50. It was a slow day so everyone at the bank found this quite funny. Good news is on the highest possible price I could have got $880! Unlike, my dad, my brother-in-law, and even my own mother...she's worth more alive than dead. Good news is, my dear sister hasn't had to take me all over town to do my daily functions. #1. I don't have many places to go, school and work. #2. I have entered the world of rental cars. Did you know you can get the cheapest car possible for less than $14 a day when used on Friday, Saturday or Sunday? A steal! I've been cruising around town more than usual since I've had my little Dodge Caliber. I guess last time Tyler's brother came out they rented one and they suggested the mice under the hood couldn't make it go fast enough. I would have to agree with them. Bonnie could beat this car in every aspect of a race any day. It is new but gutless. It makes me miss what I used to have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SReyB-YmjFI/AAAAAAAAA6I/adxG4Lhouzw/s1600-h/dodge_caliber017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266874036228885586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SReyB-YmjFI/AAAAAAAAA6I/adxG4Lhouzw/s320/dodge_caliber017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good news is Pete's feat will be accomplished on Monday and the duo of Austin and Bonnie will be so happy together. Now I realize I haven't written in this open space for a while and even though much has changes and happened, I don't really want to talk about it. I just have one more thing to say and that is that I pretty much love life. I love everything that happens to me and I really just laugh all day long. I am a happy person and mostly it comes from playing with little AVY, but Hayley and Tyler aren't so bad. I have even tried to get kicked out (multiple times) since I last wrote but when the plans come up for having 17 kids, they hope I'll still be there to which I respond, "Will we still be in a duplex?" Oh the joys that would be had if that were the case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-7629319660698409216?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/7629319660698409216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=7629319660698409216&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/7629319660698409216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/7629319660698409216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/11/whats-up-doc_09.html' title='What&apos;s up doc'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SReyBmYmnWI/AAAAAAAAA6A/tff0trLkz78/s72-c/bonnie1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-2172938255394369575</id><published>2008-11-07T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T00:49:56.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only in Idaho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBZiigCI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/bHt3j9AlQQA/s1600-h/IMG_1575%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266198926198997026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBZiigCI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/bHt3j9AlQQA/s400/IMG_1575%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Famous UNCLE SAM following the police chief to start the parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been waiting to tell everyone in the world about my time at the annual SHELLEY IDAHO SPUD DAY, but it has just been crazy. I go off and play only to find things are still needing to be completed when I get back. Basically since I've returned from my wonderful bonding time with PAPI Bird in Honduras, I've cut myself off from everything that wasn't school or work. I'm just trying to keep my head above water. Oh and by the way, for the last month or so I've picked up a new job to fill in where I had extra time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to Spud Day:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266198929715065042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBmo1cNI/AAAAAAAAA4o/dInJkQtEi2U/s400/IMG_1609%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;YES the city fountain is dyed blue to many residents disgust. They commented on it to me since I had never seen it before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO can you go to a parade and see the entire town on main street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVNcNRc5nI/AAAAAAAAA5A/5Da0b3XeBxs/s1600-h/IMG_1594%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266200486274197106" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVNcNRc5nI/AAAAAAAAA5A/5Da0b3XeBxs/s320/IMG_1594%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO you can watch the first 3 floats (fire engines) go by with sun light, the next 11 in rain, then next 14 floats in cloudy but dry skys and then hail. Good news is, each float was giving lots of candy to the two out of towners. Since my friend Anthony and I were out of staters we got special treats like Idaho Spud bars which he liked, bags of potato chips, and of course, free taters for out of staters! Bad news is, the fancy roads in Shelley have a few places where puddles gather and it seemed that the candy throwers from the floats could only land the candy in the puddles. Soggy tootsie rolls anyone?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266198924472279314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBTG24RI/AAAAAAAAA4g/NXvKtje9TiE/s400/IMG_1614%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO can my friend get sick of me stopping and talking to every other person. I had 13 hours on the ride home to try to convince him I'm not a celebrity, just from a small town.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266198935104235698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMB6ttqLI/AAAAAAAAA4w/2c67AjXFg0k/s400/IMG_1597%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO can you stop at a roadside potato cellar and ask the farmer if you can take some pictures since your friend has never seen so many spuds. (he got really excited when the Shelley High School MR. Russett mascot strolled by in the parade.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvJo3pxI/AAAAAAAAA5g/oTZB4VbyuVo/s1600-h/IMG_1640%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266201911227819794" style="WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvJo3pxI/AAAAAAAAA5g/oTZB4VbyuVo/s320/IMG_1640%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOumsA-NI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/LfjwU9WUqxE/s1600-h/IMG_1644%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266201901845772498" style="WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOumsA-NI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/LfjwU9WUqxE/s320/IMG_1644%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO can you stand in line for a prime-rib sandwich in front of the honorable Mayor Swede Christensen and not even know it. I had to give Anthony a lesson on who was standing behind him. Anthony wanted to take a picture. I declined being paparatzi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvcUgcVI/AAAAAAAAA5o/jm1cCORKVm0/s1600-h/IMG_1612%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266201916242686290" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvcUgcVI/AAAAAAAAA5o/jm1cCORKVm0/s320/IMG_1612%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funnel Cakes are about 70% the reason I went. Cannon's blessing was about 85% and the fact that I mentioned Idaho 3 months before and Anthony would let me forget we were going to Idaho was about 40% You do the MATH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO do I have such a wonderful place to call home. Even though I was on the broken chair all night, I slept like a saint. I got to see my cute little nephews and my cute little brother in law, and of course the regulars of the Bird house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvvNKTsI/AAAAAAAAA5w/ee2CdpTGCPY/s1600-h/IMG_1631%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvvNKTsI/AAAAAAAAA5w/ee2CdpTGCPY/s1600-h/IMG_1631%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266201921312149186" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVOvvNKTsI/AAAAAAAAA5w/ee2CdpTGCPY/s320/IMG_1631%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only in IDAHO can you go to the store to buy treats for co-workers and get them IDAHO SPUD bars. I still claim they are nasty but everyone seemed to like them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVNbl5yNpI/AAAAAAAAA44/5RgknVaz93Y/s1600-h/IMG_1591%5B2%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266200475705947794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVNbl5yNpI/AAAAAAAAA44/5RgknVaz93Y/s320/IMG_1591%5B2%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only for SPUD DAY would I drive 27 hours only to spend 26 hours in IDAHO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266198919419628194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBASNiqI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/eaKqQ8stH2M/s400/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-2172938255394369575?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/2172938255394369575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=2172938255394369575&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2172938255394369575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/2172938255394369575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/11/only-in-idaho.html' title='Only in Idaho'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SRVMBZiigCI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/bHt3j9AlQQA/s72-c/IMG_1575%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-5255548295880944636</id><published>2008-10-15T16:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:28:03.933-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work is what I do'/><title type='text'>My job is great</title><content type='html'>Sorry it's been a while.  Life has been crazy.  Speaking of crazy... I just had a guy come into the credit union named Red Crazyhorse.  So I assume he's of native american decent.  That reminds me that on Monday we were closed for Columbus day but we had an all-staff training day instead.  I wondered if Stanford employees were off so I asked the first lady that came to my window if she was off yesterday (MONDAY).  Just so happens I used the word Columbus day and she replied, I don't celebrate that I'm NATIVE AMERICAN.  Who knew?  I never made the connection that tribes wouldn't like Columbus.  Needless to say, she didn't smoke the peace pipe in his honor that night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-5255548295880944636?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/5255548295880944636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=5255548295880944636&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5255548295880944636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5255548295880944636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-job-is-great.html' title='My job is great'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-4371775752437463991</id><published>2008-08-29T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T08:44:18.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Check this out</title><content type='html'>Today I am in Mexico writing from the airport.  For more information, please see givemegetaways.blogspot.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures to come later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-4371775752437463991?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/4371775752437463991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=4371775752437463991&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4371775752437463991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4371775752437463991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/08/check-this-out.html' title='Check this out'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3290128830655823303</id><published>2008-08-23T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T01:47:51.856-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work is what I do'/><title type='text'>Love is tasty!</title><content type='html'>I've done some things in my life that have seemed to be full of love. Truth is my idea of love changed a lot in the last few days. I'm not going to go into details because they are a little too colorful for posting; like as bright as a rainbow. (Wink Wink Hay)&lt;br /&gt;Then there was today, my last day to fulfill my dream of dogs in the workplace. Of course I didn't do it but as I put that think plastic bag on my hand thinking that somehow that makes picking up after a dog better we bonded and I wish I would have done it.&lt;br /&gt;Even though I didn't eat breakfast because I am just glued to watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;AVY&lt;/span&gt; in her early morning playtime, it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;. I was waiting for my wonderful lunch from THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY. I had eaten there before but of course I wasn't about to pay $7 for a slice of cheesecake. However today the company paid for a whole pie which is the way to go since it fed 8 and only cost $25. I fell in love at the first bite and only ate one piece but am pretty sure I could have found a home for all of it.&lt;br /&gt;I think what made lunch so great is that I went to pick it up. It all started on the train once again. I quickly found my train riding friend Anthony and sat by him. The girl sitting next to me kept looking over but we were sort of close so I really didn't want to look at her since it was a little too close for my comfort. Well when we got off the train Anthony is like that girl was checking you out. I'm glad to see that in my old age I still have what it takes. Hayley and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hirama&lt;/span&gt; would say it was because it was casual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; so I had my jeans on, but today I didn't even tuck in my shirt or wear dress shoes, I was going very casual and this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hottie&lt;/span&gt; responded, lucky for me, I take the train every day, could this be love? It sure started my day off making me feel like I still had the love and feeling.&lt;br /&gt;So work was so slow today. It was so slow that when it was time to pick up the lunch Anthony took me with him. We took the keys to a co-worker's car and headed to the lot. As Anthony started the car I asked him if it ever made him nervous driving other people's cars. Especially since this car was new and this lady could be one that is capable of killing over a dent in her car. Right as I asked that he backed up into the curb. No it just hit the tires but it sure scared him pretty good. Let the fun begin.&lt;br /&gt;We are driving around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Palo&lt;/span&gt; Alto and we make it to The Heaven of all Cheesecakes. We go up and quickly get pointed to "THE TAKE OUT COUNTER." We told them who we were and what we wanted and they said it wasn't ready. Now this fired me up some since they had told us 20 minutes and it had been at least that long. We waited another 20 minutes for the food and of course CASUAL FRIDAY style was still singing love songs. The girl boxing up our cake was the victim of my interrogation. I said it looked good and asked her if she made it. She responded she did and I said, "Did you make this one special for me?" She smiled and I was just breaking the ice. Then the next girl comes out and I guess she was on another page because when I asked her if she was a master cake maker like her friend she responded, "Oh we don't make them here, they are made in a cheesecake factory in Los Angeles."&lt;br /&gt;The girl left and must have knew that I caught on to her fake job. I was feeling pretty good that she wanted to impress me, too bad she wasn't the one for me, or any other man with a forklift to get her in and out of the car. Now this all could be wrong and I'm just being a weirdo, but if I am, I got a slice of heaven and a Tons of FUN burger for my troubles. It was a great day, too bad the dog missed out on it.  At least BRANCH BABY was there to see my joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3290128830655823303?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3290128830655823303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3290128830655823303&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3290128830655823303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3290128830655823303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-is-tasty.html' title='Love is tasty!'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-5118905104233178643</id><published>2008-08-19T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T13:33:10.179-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work is what I do'/><title type='text'>Monday lover's fun</title><content type='html'>Here's a quick break down on why I love Mondays... be prepared for reading sorry, I have to get caught up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9KgPv-MI/AAAAAAAAA2E/HeVMq5PSKco/s1600-h/train.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9KgPv-MI/AAAAAAAAA2E/HeVMq5PSKco/s320/train.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236698086133201090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1, Train is late, I have to avoid eye contact with other train riders for extended periods of time.  If train is late, bus is gone, more time spend at bus stop trying not to look up.  In the class system, we have trains at the bottom but they are still above buses.  Trust me I've been on both.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9YNhlp5I/AAAAAAAAA2M/gXDahQ_CI_8/s1600-h/bus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9YNhlp5I/AAAAAAAAA2M/gXDahQ_CI_8/s320/bus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236698321625917330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2, Late means getting to work late, not that it matters since I usually sit around from 9:30 to 10 with nothing to do other than check my stocks and see how they are doing, but today I had enough time to check them with much eagerness after the weekend only to find them "gone with the wind" of Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3, After a very slow and boring 2 hours in banking, I'm helping a guy when the server behind me makes this funny noise.  I look at him with the look of fear that only I can convey.  I say to him it sounds like a bomb and he gives me the "give me my money and I'm out of here" look.  But before he can leave...the office becomes dark.  Let the back up battery pack's beeping begin.  The power is out, the world is coming to an end.    In a bank you can't work if there is no power so we kicked everyone out and sat.  WE sat and sat and sat.  Word on the street from the guy who would know comes and tells us that all of campus is out and it looks like the power won't be back on for a while.  It's a big problem and later we learned that some of the city was out as well.  Lucky for me, I went into the confines of the 10x10 conference room and shut the door to avoid the harsh beeping of every single computer in the office.  Sure I had visitors, but after the first hour they died down a little.  I ate Pringles, I guess that food storage idea of mine was great, but then they ran out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4,  So if being stuck in the office without power isn't bad enough, the Branch Baby (a 5 month old baby boy who comes to work with his mom because we fully support babies and may I add dogs in the workplace, I know can we get any crazier?) Now mingling with my beeps are peeps.  We carried on with Branch Baby for another hour or so listening to everyone ooh and ahh at him as he gave no love or affection back.  Just when I had once again secluded myself into the office to nap, the computer nerds who are actually really cool came and turned off the beeping at least.  A little while later the power was back on and we had to wait another 20 minutes or so to be back in business.  But that's still just the start of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5, The work day was painfully slow.  Even though I had time to relax it just made it drag on.  I got a few angry folks from the orient and they always know how to fire me up with their questions.  Later on in the day my supervisor was sitting behind me on the floor cooing with the baby.  That was too much.  Lucky for me, I had time to ponder life as the power was out and I came up with this great idea, see #6 for more information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9kt6fUwI/AAAAAAAAA2U/-fPERo330-c/s1600-h/dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9kt6fUwI/AAAAAAAAA2U/-fPERo330-c/s320/dog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236698536478724866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6, Babies in the workplace is a HR policy but at the same time they adopted dogs in the workplace.  Incredibly ridiculous I know but the light came on in my head as I made the connection that I am dogsitting.  I have a dog to bring to the workplace.  I was all excited about it until the man on the train said I'd have to say it was a service animal and I really don't want fur in my golden year Pontiac.  I was going to bring it one day but I just realized it is too much work to make a point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7, Finally the day is over, I get to the train station and I meet a crazy man who is complaining that the train is late and in Seattle you can see where every type of public transportation is at any given moment.  He continued to walk by me and try to strike up conservation but the train station is not where I want to make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8, The train is coming, I want to get in the first car so I start walking towards where I think the door will stop and open.  The two co-workers/friends that I'm waiting with start to make fun of me because I am considered by others to be a master train hippie.  They ask me where I'm going and I say to the front.  It went something like this after that.&lt;br /&gt;Brandon, "You going to ride in the Engine"?&lt;br /&gt;Austin, "Nope, just getting in position".&lt;br /&gt;Anthony, "I'm sure you can sit on the conductor's lap and help him drive it".&lt;br /&gt;Austin, "No I don't want to control it".&lt;br /&gt;Random guy standing by, "That's what she said".&lt;br /&gt;Austin, "What did that guy say?  What did you say"?&lt;br /&gt;Random guy smiling and showing off his black tooth, "That's what she said".&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9trLZyRI/AAAAAAAAA2c/sXI9FFPkZI0/s1600-h/toothless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9trLZyRI/AAAAAAAAA2c/sXI9FFPkZI0/s320/toothless.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236698690363181330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brandon, "What'd that guy say"?&lt;br /&gt;Austin, "That's what she said and that's my line"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the three train amigos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_PQvmfWI/AAAAAAAAA28/fLnC81o2_aU/s1600-h/anthony_martinez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_PQvmfWI/AAAAAAAAA28/fLnC81o2_aU/s320/anthony_martinez.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236700366894431586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_PeLVTwI/AAAAAAAAA3E/qWWuZ2Db1Xg/s1600-h/brandon_marques.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_PeLVTwI/AAAAAAAAA3E/qWWuZ2Db1Xg/s320/brandon_marques.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236700370500407042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_P1W1yeI/AAAAAAAAA3M/kuUwwan1ag0/s1600-h/austin_bird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx_P1W1yeI/AAAAAAAAA3M/kuUwwan1ag0/s320/austin_bird.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236700376722688482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9, Getting on the train, I like to sit on the second story, but I knew there weren't three seats together for us to sit in so I take a seat and tell my amigos that always complain about sitting up top they'll have to fend for themselves.  I take a seat and Brandon sees one behind me.  He runs for it.  Anthony is stopped by the first seat that was open the whole time and he turns around to sit down and a man hustles his way into the seat in the process hitting his head hard on the lights that are a little low.  So Anthony had to go sit by himself and I just died replaying the clip of the guy nailing his forehead just to get the seat before Anthony did.  It's a vicious cycle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10, I get home, walk the dog, clean up his 2 foot long sausage link poo and eat a great dinner provided by Mrs. Atwood.  I fall asleep about 8:30 and slept amazingly well after a hard day of work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-5118905104233178643?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/5118905104233178643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=5118905104233178643&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5118905104233178643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5118905104233178643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/08/monday-lovers-fun.html' title='Monday lover&apos;s fun'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SKx9KgPv-MI/AAAAAAAAA2E/HeVMq5PSKco/s72-c/train.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-4950642672487639213</id><published>2008-08-10T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T21:30:25.318-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Where have all the cookies gone?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I just have so much exciting stuff to share that I would rather just tell it to Hayley.  That has been the case as of late, too much stuff is going on so I just blurt it out before I can write it down.  Hayley has been out of town for a week and we talk on the ringer every other day or so, usually just because she can't get find Tyler and wants to check in.  Well I really don't have anything too exciting for you tonight sista, other than.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonnie is a fine tuned machine.  We took a trip to San Diego this weekend to see uncle and aunt and cousins and I kept having to slow her down.  This baby left home at 9:30 pm, made a quick stop to Jack in the Box because I'm in love with it and we drove off into the distance, just the two of us.  We ended in a little place I like to call the Chevron station in Lost Hills California.  I didn't experience the night life there but I was there around midnight, gave Bonnie some petrol and took a nice 4hour nap.  The best part about Bonnie is she was getting &lt;em&gt;25 MPG&lt;/em&gt;!  I was amazed and proud of her for kicking it in gear.  Also she is now my 115,000 mile gem, we put a good 900 miles on this weekend!  Can't wait for &lt;strong&gt;SPUD DAY!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 4:15 am and continued on the trek arriving at my final destination in Escondido CA earlier than expected but I said I'd be there between 8 and 8:30 so I had to wait and knocked on the door right about 8 so they didn't think I was some sort of liar for getting there early.  So I ate a bowl of special K and that did the trick, I was loving life all day Saturday.  I wish I could have posted some pictures but well I left my camera in the car and didn't take one picture. &lt;br /&gt;Around 10 we headed down to the park area where my 6 year old cousin (names with held to protect the innocent and mainly because &lt;strong&gt;Hirama&lt;/strong&gt; doesn't like the idea of me blogging names)  (and yes, Hirama is a code name for someone in my family) Anyways so this cute little cousin of mine, who is just the sweetest thing ever had a birthday party.  It was a dog themed party so there were dog pictures, dog pinatas, dog spots to be found, dog tricks to be performed, dog poopies to pick up, it was really quite amazing to see my aunt in party mode.  It wasn't an over the top expensive high roller party, but it was very fun and entertaining, even if I wasn't allowed to jump through the hula hoops like a dog or pick up Little Debbie's Swiss Rolls with a pooper scooper.  I did however get to hold the line back when the pinata came out to play.  Of course it was in the shape of a bone.  And with my boy cousin who is 10 I was able to play tug-a-war with the dog toy which I won and am very proud of since I mean  he is a 10 year old.  5th grader, pretty strong and ferocious if you ask me!&lt;br /&gt;After a few hours of park party fun we went back up to the homestead and they wanted me to take a nap but there was no time and I knew if I went to sleep it wouldn't be a short little nap so I kept busy for a few minutes until we went to the community pool and met up with aunts and cousins on the other side....the dark side.  No just playing they were very nice people and I just chatted with my uncle and threw things in the pool for my cousins to fetch (I was still in dog party mode).  It was a really fun time and I hate swimming but managed to still get wet when my cute little cousin shot me with some water cannon from about 25 feet.  We ate pizza and passed a good while at the pool. &lt;br /&gt;Then it was back to the house where I helped open all the little toys she got for her birthday.  They wrap those little toys with all sorts of tape and glue and rubber bands that don't want to break so it was a challenge to get them all off but it was accomplished.  Then we just played random games and Auntie and Uncle headed upstairs for naps and showers after being in the pool.  They once again suggested a nap but I was having too much fun with my 10 year old and 6 year old cousins.  They were great entertainment.  Soon one of them wanted to watch TV and I lasted about 10 minutes on the couch before I was out.  I'm not sure how long I was asleep but I woke up quick enough to still play some more before the parents came down. &lt;br /&gt;One thing that I did that never happens is went to bed at about 9:30.  It was great!  I slept very well and was very grateful I was able to spend a wonderful day with my not visited enough family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-4950642672487639213?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/4950642672487639213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=4950642672487639213&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4950642672487639213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/4950642672487639213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/08/where-have-all-cookies-gone.html' title='Where have all the cookies gone?'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3284373443993833764</id><published>2008-07-28T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T23:45:10.086-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old fashioned fun'/><title type='text'>Get your motors revvvvved up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI653-kzE1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/dgdO4BMnbdA/s1600-h/sheley+idaho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228320588765008722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI653-kzE1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/dgdO4BMnbdA/s320/sheley+idaho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The 90, Bonnie, my 114,007 (and counting) mile jewel, call her what you want but my blessed 1990 Pontiac Bonneville SE is getting geared up for a road trip. Over the course of the last week I have somehow convinced my friend that Spud Day (&lt;a href="http://www.ci.shelley.id.us/index.asp?Type=B_BASIC&amp;amp;SEC={DEA6ABE7-C756-4E7A-A2E6-D36D82104191}&amp;amp;DE={6A08157A-D374-4EF4-BBA5-A5CBE5CBB46D"&gt;http://www.ci.shelley.id.us/index.asp?Type=B_BASIC&amp;amp;SEC={DEA6ABE7-C756-4E7A-A2E6-D36D82104191}&amp;amp;DE={6A08157A-D374-4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EF&lt;/span&gt;4-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BBA&lt;/span&gt;5-A5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CBE&lt;/span&gt;5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CBB&lt;/span&gt;46D&lt;/a&gt;}) in Shelley Idaho is the greatest thing in the world. I think it was the pit of mashed potatoes that did the trick. (see above link) As we drove home from work today, right after we avoided our near death experience with the squirrel I was shocked to hear that he is committed to jumping in Bonnie and making the trek to the annual day of fun. I have never seen anyone so excited to go to Idaho but he has it all planned out. We are going to leave work and maybe even get out early, and drive until we reach heaven as we know it. He is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; cool with going there one day and coming back the next. His excitement was so large that he let me know as soon as he got home that his wife gave him the go ahead. Lucky for you my faithful blog readers, Bonnie fits 6, so if you are up for being on our tug-a-war team over a pit of mashed potatoes we'll be leaving Friday the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of September in the year of our Lord 2008 around 6 pm but maybe sooner. Oh yeah the best part is I'll be there to celebrate my little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sista's&lt;/span&gt; 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday. Have you eaten your Russet today?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3284373443993833764?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3284373443993833764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3284373443993833764&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3284373443993833764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3284373443993833764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/get-your-motors-revvvvved-up.html' title='Get your motors revvvvved up!'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI653-kzE1I/AAAAAAAAAEc/dgdO4BMnbdA/s72-c/sheley+idaho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-3240025550713129715</id><published>2008-07-28T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T23:00:25.736-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work is what I do'/><title type='text'>Squirrel meat</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen a flying squirrel? Me neither but today I was riding with my friend when some random song was playing and I was listening to him tell me how hungry he was because he didn't eat lunch. We were just enjoying the life of being done with work for the day. I had already told him I would have shared my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;foot long&lt;/span&gt; of goodness with him but he said his double gulp would do the trick. So when I tried to repeat the fact that he shouldn't be&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI6w62mLd0I/AAAAAAAAAEU/zd5I2rQxgzM/s1600-h/over_the_hedge_hammy_the_squirrel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228310742558275394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI6w62mLd0I/AAAAAAAAAEU/zd5I2rQxgzM/s320/over_the_hedge_hammy_the_squirrel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hungry because he had his double &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gullluuup&lt;/span&gt; a squirrel ran out in front of his car and it scared, shocked and looked at me with that look of the squirrel on OVER THE HEDGE. He screamed as well and then we just sat there and laughed at the time we almost lost our lives to the little ranger. On the way back we looked for the little guy but to no avail. He might not have died on the road but he must have certainly ran off and died in the weeds because we were scared to death. This will most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; be the image any time I close my eyes for the next few days or weeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-3240025550713129715?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/3240025550713129715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=3240025550713129715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3240025550713129715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/3240025550713129715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/squirrel-meat.html' title='Squirrel meat'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SI6w62mLd0I/AAAAAAAAAEU/zd5I2rQxgzM/s72-c/over_the_hedge_hammy_the_squirrel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-362333071197743795</id><published>2008-07-26T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T00:36:43.210-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Money advice'/><title type='text'>Another banking story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIrT-D760UI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ucS7N2Wm3fk/s1600-h/last+day+in+Guatmala+and+Mexico+039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227223380678857026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIrT-D760UI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ucS7N2Wm3fk/s320/last+day+in+Guatmala+and+Mexico+039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess the last banking story lost half my audience. I'll keep this one simple which is not what my blog is all about. Here's some advice for you, when at the bank, have your stuff ready so you don't waste time. Story goes like this and yes, it's true. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I am trying to provide excellent customer service when this lady comes in with her head phones, sweating and of course she comes to me. I do the usual and i ask her for her number, she doesn't know it so she pulls her id out...of her candy dish holder to give to me in the process she must have seen the disgust in my eyes because after she pulled it from no man's land, she said oh you can just look, I'm sure you don't want to touch that. It is true, I didn't not want to provide that great of service. She did wipe off the sweat from the id before she let me look so that was nice of her! I didn't look, hope it wasn't fraud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-362333071197743795?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/362333071197743795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=362333071197743795&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/362333071197743795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/362333071197743795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/another-banking-story.html' title='Another banking story'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIrT-D760UI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ucS7N2Wm3fk/s72-c/last+day+in+Guatmala+and+Mexico+039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-9081129626649890037</id><published>2008-07-25T01:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T01:40:05.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Banker's games</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SImQwxxPtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NY7NdzrxZk0/s1600-h/dirty+money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226868010208179970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SImQwxxPtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NY7NdzrxZk0/s320/dirty+money.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever wonder what takes the bank teller so long to process your transaction or what they talk about when you aren't in there? I happen to know a guy who works in not a bank, but a credit union, sounds fancy I know but this is hot off the press. A week ago the subordinate gave his boss a mutilated $5 that he received. Now no one likes mutilated money so even though they accept it, they don't like it because they have to keep it forever until they have 100 of the same bill to submit which never happens. Well the boss wanting to get rid of it gave it to a customer. He assured the man that it would spend fine and to just take it. Today that same guy came in to deposit that $5 again. The boss said, "Oh, if you want to do that you actually have to stand in line over there." Pretty soon he came to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;subordinate's&lt;/span&gt; window and stated that he only wanted to exchange the $5 for one in good condition. With a glance into the boss's office the little guy took the bill, knowing this must stop. The day ended and the teller had a bad $10 bill and one bad $5 bill. What's a teller to do? Since he has an account with the credit union and the manager is the only one who can see employee accounts, he took his ugly money to the boss and said he wanted to make a deposit. The boss took it and realized it was the ugly money. In the end, the teller beat the boss, for those of you keeping score, teller---1, boss----0. Games we play at work...no wonder I love my job!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-9081129626649890037?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/9081129626649890037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=9081129626649890037&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/9081129626649890037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/9081129626649890037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/bankers-games.html' title='Banker&apos;s games'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SImQwxxPtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NY7NdzrxZk0/s72-c/dirty+money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-1922731913342370868</id><published>2008-07-24T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:32:47.148-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Money advice'/><title type='text'>I'm an investor</title><content type='html'>SO it appears to be a downward trend in the graph below.     &lt;a title="Go to home page" href="http://www.wamu.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a title="Go to home page" href="http://www.wamu.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIjh4CFUqdI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_TG5pVs4kCA/s1600-h/big.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226675720311581138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIjh4CFUqdI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_TG5pVs4kCA/s400/big.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me explain to you that this is what we call Washington Mutual stock prices.  You can see that it has fallen much faster than most things out there.  A week ago it dropped to $3.30 and Tyler, my boss and I all talked about it.  My boss got in and Tyler told me to hold off.  It sounded like a good plan.  Today was the day that I finally bought.  I figure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WAMU&lt;/span&gt; is a good company, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt; they did hire me back in my prime.  I see it as a year ago it was $45 a share and now it's below $5, I should get into it and make some money.  Well I got in for my first ever investment at $4 a share.  Now it's all just a game, but I want it to be posted here so you'll know where my small fortune comes from in a few years.  Thanks to Tyler for guiding me and even though he hasn't bought, he will watch it and see it rise and remember that he should have gotten into the stock when it was dirt cheap.  That's all, I'm done, take it or leave it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-1922731913342370868?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/1922731913342370868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=1922731913342370868&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1922731913342370868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1922731913342370868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-investor.html' title='I&apos;m an investor'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIjh4CFUqdI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_TG5pVs4kCA/s72-c/big.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-1131594438996783938</id><published>2008-07-22T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T21:19:59.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farmer Austin'/><title type='text'>Chicken Little's harvest</title><content type='html'>At this very moment, I have a sea of tomatoes on my counter.  I'm taking a few to work tomorrow but I'll still have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;plenty&lt;/span&gt; left.  I thought about making some ketchup since I'm almost all out but I think it's easier to just eat out and use the extra packets to fill my bottle.  So if you need or want tomatoes this is the them.  I know salsa sounds good.  I still have some green ones that fell off the vine so I'm going to try fried green tomatoes.  Never made them, never tasted them, but I found a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;recipe&lt;/span&gt; on the web.  Have I persuaded you into eating more tomatoes?  If yes please let me know or if you are too embarrassed by the fact that you are reading some random post, you can email Hayley and tell her, but be careful, if Tyler gets a hold of this idea, he might try to sell them, I'm giving them aways as of now so act fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-1131594438996783938?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/1131594438996783938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=1131594438996783938&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1131594438996783938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/1131594438996783938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/chicken-littles-harvest.html' title='Chicken Little&apos;s harvest'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-8677005632106405884</id><published>2008-07-22T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T11:49:38.447-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='How it began'/><title type='text'>I now have renewed my cousinship with Jenni</title><content type='html'>Do you remember that werido movie that had some girl that said brush...brushfire? I'm sure you do because we always say it to each other. Well I guess this blog has spread like blogfire, I now hear I have 2 people that read it. I first want to thank my humble workers who do all the work to make this what it is. Also I appreciate my fans for their support. Without you this wouldn't be possible or even remotely entertaining. I welcome Jenni my #1 cousin since she found me first to my wonderful life in pictures and words. Even my sister who is about to pop sacrificed her time to read my blog. It's just wonderful. More to come, I have to work sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-8677005632106405884?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/8677005632106405884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=8677005632106405884&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/8677005632106405884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/8677005632106405884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-now-have-renewed-my-cousinship-with.html' title='I now have renewed my cousinship with Jenni'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-6298465709953441073</id><published>2008-07-21T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T01:08:50.658-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not what I was looking for'/><title type='text'>No boiling blood today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who knew that if I just switched my picture I could avoid the hated and feared boiling of my blood? Now I'm as happy as ever with my sweet pic outside of LAX, this was at around 1am, just hanging out waiting for my 6am flight home. I made it and loved it. Much too good for children so lock them up. If I do have to see them I might charge you a loaf of bread. Thanks again sista!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225376201928943522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRD-G3BJ6I/AAAAAAAAADc/7e585J2Fnwo/s400/last+day+in+Guatmala+and+Mexico+138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-6298465709953441073?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/6298465709953441073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=6298465709953441073&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/6298465709953441073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/6298465709953441073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-will-help-tell-story.html' title='No boiling blood today'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRD-G3BJ6I/AAAAAAAAADc/7e585J2Fnwo/s72-c/last+day+in+Guatmala+and+Mexico+138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-623374937017509497</id><published>2008-07-21T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T00:59:06.114-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Farmer Austin'/><title type='text'>Should have worn my farmer john shirt for luck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Water and sun, two basic elements to maintain a lush garden. Or so I used to think. I have gotten to evaluate my gardening skills over the course of the last 20 days and I have come to know that I have a lot to learn. It all started when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bennett's&lt;/span&gt; took me for a tour and said water this every day, this every other day, this once a week and this when you feel like it. She said not to worry, I'll write it down. closed quote I come for my first day on the job and the note reads, "thanks so much call if you have any questions." So I have been going off the 2 days I've spent riding in a spud truck for all my gardening knowledge. Back to the tour, Mark told me to be careful with the huge sunflower because it may bite. He meant to be joking but it looked big enough to eat me so I was a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skittish&lt;/span&gt;. After 2 weeks, I woke up with the idea of doing some yard work only to see the sunflower was tipped over. The head of the flower had to be at least 2 feet across. So I pulled it out, fearing for my life that it may somehow bite me. It was one of those things where it was so big that it possibly could have had a life. I can still feel the fear even though it's been dead for a week and has produced my first line of sunflower seeds, which by the way have received rave reviews from my banking buddies...or just buddy. Now the idea of the living sunflower stuck in my mind as two remained. After work one day I found that one had sort of folded over so I got some string and tied it to the other one who I named the ox of all wild weeds. So the little one was tied to the ox and before I know it, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bam&lt;/span&gt;, sunflower to the face. The wee one folded again and nailed me in the face. I was sure I would end up with a bump or bruise, but I guess I'm too tough for that. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRAopkypdI/AAAAAAAAAC8/vhxYRU5YYpM/s1600-h/lone+sunflower.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBDdVCajI/AAAAAAAAADE/G3Ufmwvwtto/s1600-h/Sunflower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225372995324897842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBDdVCajI/AAAAAAAAADE/G3Ufmwvwtto/s400/Sunflower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then yesterday I was frantic as the squash seemed to be overtaking the world. I ended up taking out the last sunflower (the ox) and in that process it flipped out and kicked dirt all over me and down my shoe. Are they alive? I beg to differ. Alright, I've conquered the sunflowers and moved onto the tomatoes. I started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wrangling&lt;/span&gt; them up and tying them up. I was on my 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt; lasso or so when I set the string on the fence. Next thing I know, the string is gone and I was still full of a tying desire. The thought crossed my mind to just pull all the string back over since I did have one end still, but after pulling it appeared there was no hope. I kept on tying and decided I might have to go for a commando raid late at night because I was not going to hop the fence and ask for my string back. The neighbor is to the back so I had no idea what street they were on but even still, I didn't want to talk to anyone about my falling string. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBQaIbSkI/AAAAAAAAADM/VwAi3uFeuWE/s1600-h/string.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225373217804995138" style="WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="138" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBQaIbSkI/AAAAAAAAADM/VwAi3uFeuWE/s200/string.jpg" width="178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBUo64rII/AAAAAAAAADU/ko9liaZG4fQ/s1600-h/fence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225373290494209154" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px" height="124" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBUo64rII/AAAAAAAAADU/ko9liaZG4fQ/s400/fence.jpg" width="202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did my duty watering that night and I saw that I piece of my string was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dangling&lt;/span&gt;. I was sort of angry and thought those pukes cut off my string and threw the end back over. They made out with a lot of my string. I pulled the end and started to follow it only to see that it ended up back at my toes where the roll was thrown back over. I was grateful for the neighbor's kind deed because I did not want to explain dead plants, missing shrubs and lost string to the rightful owners. I slept well knowing that my string had found the way home. Moral of the story is, if there was ever a time for my farmer john shirt, this month would be the time. Now I'm headed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;eBay&lt;/span&gt; for straw hats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-623374937017509497?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/623374937017509497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=623374937017509497&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/623374937017509497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/623374937017509497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/should-have-worn-my-farmer-john-shirt.html' title='Should have worn my farmer john shirt for luck'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIRBDdVCajI/AAAAAAAAADE/G3Ufmwvwtto/s72-c/Sunflower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-8173666410192132066</id><published>2008-07-19T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T23:09:22.196-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not what I was looking for'/><title type='text'>Orange stripe on my face</title><content type='html'>Blog spot has a lot of nerve to put that banner across me pretty face, how do I fix that bit?  I don't want my blood to boil after this but it may if I can't get it taken care of.  Let the countdown to boilover begin....in 5, 4, 3....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-8173666410192132066?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/8173666410192132066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=8173666410192132066&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/8173666410192132066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/8173666410192132066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/orange-stripe-on-my-face.html' title='Orange stripe on my face'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447722122578230838.post-5625157068253472265</id><published>2008-07-19T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T01:12:21.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='How it began'/><title type='text'>Why they call me Whitethunder</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In response to my lovely sister Hayley, I have created a spoof blog to make her happy. If anyone other than her reads this, I apologize in advance. It's obvious that Hayley enjoys this blog stuff because she's been on my back (lucky me this time just figuretivly) about not having a computer made in this century. She's really into this stuff. I think it is fun to see her posts and learn things I was zoning out on during the first time she told me. So the question you've all been waiting for...oh Hay, sorry if I talk to you in plural, I'm just going to pretend like I have lots of subscribers... Who is Whitethunder?&lt;br /&gt;The story goes like this, I was a nerdy 10th grader and I was playing baseball at high school. I wanted to fit in with all the older kids since just Jordan and I were sophomores. My father who was in the big bucket of ice cream market at the time always told me to invite my friends over for ice cream. This wouldn't be the start of people wanting me to be social, but a mere contuinance. Almost every week we'd come over after practice for some ice cream and one of the flavors was White Thunder. It was really good, smooth vanilla premium cow's milk frozen to perfection with white chocholate cups filled with some yummy perserve. I would always go for the White thunder and when I needed a name for a online post registration, I choose HPwhitethunder. It has since been shortened to just whitethunder since I no longer own a HALO PATROL hat. Yes, those were the days. I love life and being called whitethunder so get used to it, whitethunder is here to shine. Hope you enjoy sista!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225376963983388626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIREqdu9L9I/AAAAAAAAAD0/VP1Mq6WmT0c/s320/Imagen+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225376959095569778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIREqLhm_XI/AAAAAAAAADs/6twa3Cfu-IY/s320/Imagen+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225376957142115938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIREqEP3pmI/AAAAAAAAADk/VLaf1QN7kXw/s320/austin+being+bored+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8447722122578230838-5625157068253472265?l=birdmanbegins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/feeds/5625157068253472265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8447722122578230838&amp;postID=5625157068253472265&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5625157068253472265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8447722122578230838/posts/default/5625157068253472265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://birdmanbegins.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-they-call-me-whitethunder.html' title='Why they call me Whitethunder'/><author><name>whitethunder</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04462014576627440359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SSY8To0GtVI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dnn6LoBlGCk/S220/IMG_1566%5B1%5D.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J4GW9VQRsWA/SIREqdu9L9I/AAAAAAAAAD0/VP1Mq6WmT0c/s72-c/Imagen+036.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
