<?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-7087702819618776213</id><updated>2011-07-30T18:01:37.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-5686232222890125460</id><published>2009-04-23T09:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T09:20:21.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Softball game of the year</title><content type='html'>So, I'm playing on the company softball team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sat out the first 3 innings.  Then got put into left field.  First ball hit to me was a line drive.  I caught it, as my feet were slipping out from beneath me. (Anyone that saw me play baseball in highschool can appreciate what an accomplisment that is).  So, I thought to myself...things are looking up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got out of that inning and it was my first time up to bat.  1st pitch, I hit a p-rod over the 3rd baseman for a double.  Wow, things started off great!!  I was thinking to myself, maybe I've earned a sport in the starting lineup ( I really don't care about starting, but the competitor inside of me thought that for a hot second.  I enjoy watching people and making fun of them as much as I enjoy playing).  So, I get stranded on third, and the inning is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are winning 12-5 at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next inning..I go back out to left field.  Every single hit came my way..when it rains, it pours.  Two routine pop fly's headed my way, except for any fly ball headed my way is not routine.  Ended up that inning with 2 errors and was responsible for about 6 runs crossing the plate.  How embarrasing!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news...they asked me to come back...not sure yet if that was out of pity or not.  I shall keep you updated on how the season plays out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea, we were up 11-0 at one time, and lost 15-14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the season:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the plate: 1-1 with a double&lt;br /&gt;Fielding: 2 errors&lt;br /&gt;OB%-1.000&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-5686232222890125460?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/5686232222890125460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/04/1st-softball-game-of-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5686232222890125460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5686232222890125460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/04/1st-softball-game-of-year.html' title='1st Softball game of the year'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-68270514429734538</id><published>2009-04-06T14:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T14:02:16.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is just to say that I posted something.  I don't want to be a one and done kind of guy when it comes to blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started because work was super slow...and I have no time to blog at work, and ha ha if you think i'll blog when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Yea.  Gooooooooooooooooooooooooo HHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll prolly blog something really cool later this week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all have a wonderful week...Much love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-68270514429734538?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/68270514429734538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-just-to-say-that-i-posted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/68270514429734538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/68270514429734538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-just-to-say-that-i-posted.html' title=''/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-735312709749192789</id><published>2009-03-31T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T07:18:38.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Office Musical</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOCsXFKrxJw&amp;amp;eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Efacebook%2Ecom%2Fhome%2Ephp&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;Found this pretty flippin halarious&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-735312709749192789?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/735312709749192789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/office-musical.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/735312709749192789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/735312709749192789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/office-musical.html' title='The Office Musical'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-559234999084948969</id><published>2009-03-24T10:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T10:52:25.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>childhood memory</title><content type='html'>So I was scanning the internet today and there was a clip about Andre the Giant.  I watched that clip, which led me to watching some &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpSXE5_dqNI"&gt;youtube clips&lt;/a&gt;.  In watching this, I took a trip back down memory lane to where watching wrestling was cool ( not that it isn't cool now ).  I remembered how we would go to church on Sunday mornings and how after church was over, and I mean as soon as it was over, it was a race over to grandma's.  We would park, and ZOOM!! we would be in a dead sprint to be the first kid inside the door.  First kid inside the door had the best chance of finding the remote control first.  Wrestling was always on, on Sunday's.  If the older kid's got the remote, we would have to watch football or something.  Anyways...none of you will really be able to enjoy this story unless you're my brother or cousin...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-559234999084948969?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/559234999084948969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/childhood-memory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/559234999084948969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/559234999084948969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/childhood-memory.html' title='childhood memory'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-3701327329091200553</id><published>2009-03-19T06:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T06:20:07.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion of the Christ</title><content type='html'>So, I sat down last night to watch TV and I stopped on the movie, The Passion of the Christ.  I don't know why I stopped there, but I did.  As I was watching it, I had some pretty neat thoughts running through my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thought. &lt;br /&gt;I think it is good to watch that movie again.  I think too many time we can get complacent on what really took place that day.  That day was crazy tough on him.  The beating that he took was unlike any beating I've ever seen.  I think that I get so busy in life that I never really let myself think of what that day must have been like.  I say it to many times, that Christ died on a tree to save me...blah blah blah.  It was much more than that.  It was the whipping, thrashing, beating of his body that lasted several hours.  I think that we sometimes forget how hard it was.  And to think that he could have stopped it at any time, but he didn't.  What an awesome God I serve.  What incredible love he showed on that day.  I sin too often and then say, well...that's why Jesus died on a tree.  I think if I were to really think about that day..why would I ever want to hurt someone who showed me so much love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Thought.&lt;br /&gt;I was asking Chris what it must have been like to be that guy that was pulled out of the crowd and made to help carry the cross of Jesus.  Don't have a lot to say about that one, but just the thought is enough to chew on today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd thought.&lt;br /&gt;After Jesus had gotten to the top of the hill, he fell down beside the cross.  And maybe this happened only in the movie, but I feel like it must have happened that day.  When he was laying beside the cross, he mustered up his own energy and climbed his way onto that cross.  Side Note: I know that if that were me, and that I were innocent, I would be kicking and screaming and doing all that I could not to get on that cross.  Jesus, and innocent man, with all the strength, and love that he had, he climbed on that cross for  you and me.  After all the beating, cursing, spitting...Jesus still had the love to crawl on that cross.  Pretty amazing stuff to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you can enjoy and embrace the love of Jesus, because There Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-3701327329091200553?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/3701327329091200553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/passion-of-christ.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3701327329091200553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3701327329091200553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/passion-of-christ.html' title='Passion of the Christ'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-1663011065824729590</id><published>2009-03-10T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T07:09:06.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I really want to blog</title><content type='html'>So, I really want blog about a few things...but I really want some pics to go along with the blog.  And since I had to re-format my computer over the weekend, my computer won't read that my camera is plugged in.  Anyways...as soon as I get that fixed, I'll bring you another wonderful blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-1663011065824729590?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/1663011065824729590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-really-want-to-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/1663011065824729590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/1663011065824729590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-really-want-to-blog.html' title='I really want to blog'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-1263827214586716793</id><published>2009-03-02T05:30:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T07:38:48.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Verse</title><content type='html'>The other week, I went to the Jimmy Needham/Rush of Fools concert, and it was pretty bumpin awesome.  Well, one thing they were pushing was this OneVerse deal.  It was the first time I've ever heard of it, though many have heard of it before.  The deal is, that if you give $26 a month, they can translate one verse of the Bible into another language that doesn't have the Bible.  Wow...soo cool...I never really ever thought about the world as a whole not having the Bible translated so they can read it.  I think their are currently like 2,200 languages not translated.  The girl talking about this made a great point.  One day when I get to heaven, how cool would it be to meet someone that read a verse you paid to have translated and that was the reason they got to heaven.  You had an eternal impact on someone!!  I think I strive to have a daily impact on people, but this is a way that I can have a everlasting..and eternal impact on someone's life.  Pretty bumpin cool if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the following link....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.oneverse.org/"&gt;http://www.oneverse.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-1263827214586716793?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/1263827214586716793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-verse_02.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/1263827214586716793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/1263827214586716793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-verse_02.html' title='One Verse'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-530828627406702972</id><published>2009-03-02T05:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T05:30:14.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Verse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-530828627406702972?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/530828627406702972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-verse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/530828627406702972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/530828627406702972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-verse.html' title='One Verse'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-8314465641810238836</id><published>2009-02-25T05:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T06:21:28.692-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent Season</title><content type='html'>So, yesterday was Fat Tuesday and I hope all of you enjoyed it.  I know I did.  Lent starts today and this will be the first time that I actually make it the whole way through without giving up.  As a kid, I would give up candy...but usually...that would only last a day or 2 at best.  This year I'm giving up Fast Food joints and softdrinks...softdrinks shouldn't be too hard, b/c I hardly ever drink them anymore...Fast Food joints will be a lil more difficult.  There are a couple reasons to why I'm giving up this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 1- Due to recent budgeting, I need to save money.  Researchers say that the avg. American spends around 1,500 dollars eating at fast food joints throughout the year.  That's 1,500 dollars I can save towards a new car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 2- It's pretty freakin unhealthy.  Chris and I, had a come ot Jesus talk last night about how we wanted to change our lifestyles.  Eating better and working out was our discussion.  We are using lent as a crutch to help us start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 3- I want to learn different recipes and learn to cook for myself.  I do know how to cook, as long as it's on the grill.  But, I want to learn to cook other things.  I just got a new knife set, and I really want to use it.  I'm really kind of excited about all the possibilities of dinner I can have for myself.  I think I'm going to try to right myself a menu on Sunday nights about what I want for dinner for the upcoming week and see what happens.  If you are reading this, please feel free to add any ideas.  I'll let you know how it turns out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 4- I wanted to give up something that would be tough.  Lent is a call to share in the suffering love of Jesus, especially by giving up sin and sinful attitudes and walking in the path of love and service.  And because I am without sin, I have to give up the closest thing...fast food joints.  Ok...that's a joke...i am with sin...but still...i'm giving up fast food joints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you guys have a wonderful lent season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-8314465641810238836?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/8314465641810238836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent-season.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/8314465641810238836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/8314465641810238836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent-season.html' title='Lent Season'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-3012803573567732591</id><published>2009-02-24T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T12:04:57.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Concoction of Smells, Sights,and Sounds</title><content type='html'>So...thought everyone needs to know about where I work.  My office is right between the Office Kitchen and the restroom, hince the title of this post, A Concoction of Smells.  It's really pretty humerous, once  you get over the fact that people are using the bathroom 10 ft. from you.  From about 11:00 to about 1:00, it smells to die for in my office.  Any other time, it smells like something may have died in my office.  Getting away from the smell for a minute, let me tell you real quick about the bathroom.  It's a single stall bathroom, with a no soundproof door.  I can hear everything that goes on in there.  It's really pretty disgusting if you think to hard about it.  I see people walk in front of my office...I see when the walk back...There's no getting around me...I know exactly what you're doing when you walk by my office...and secretly...I time everyone.  If your stomach hurts...you can try to be quiet..but I still hear you...the sound reverberates out the bathroom and directly into my office.  People get done..then come stand at my door and try to carry on a conversation...I'm like...DUDE, for real?  How can you carry on a significant conversation with someone after you've just heard everything they did.  I mean really.  Anways..thought this was kinda funny...It just happened, that's why I'm writing about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-3012803573567732591?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/3012803573567732591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/concoction-of-smells-sightsand-sounds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3012803573567732591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3012803573567732591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/concoction-of-smells-sightsand-sounds.html' title='A Concoction of Smells, Sights,and Sounds'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-3082104411445289662</id><published>2009-02-19T05:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T06:07:36.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook Addiction</title><content type='html'>People say that the first step to breaking a habit or addiction is to first admit it. I'm admitting it. I'm addicted to Facebook. What can I say...I believe everyone is. Does that make it right though? Not sure. I've got a link saved to my favorites and it's just screaming at me everytime I open up my browser...It's saying...TRAVIS...CLICK ME...SEE WHAT HAS CHANGED...CLICK ME...YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO...CLICK ME!!! I always seem to give into temptation, hince my addiction. Nothing seems to pass by me on facebook, I see everyone's status change throughout the day, pictures that have been updated, and I've read the 50 things you didn't know about me about 50 times. Why the crap do I do that to myself. And everyone I read, I don't even know why I'm 'friends' with them on facebook. I never talk to them anymore! Half the time, I open Facebook and just leave it open all day.  I swear friends think I'm just sitting here stalking people...but I'm not...it's open and I forgot to close it.  But, would it really be such a bad thing if I was stalking you?  Facebook has to be from Satan, b/c I waste so much time on there, when I could be doing something productive. Anyways...I gotta run...just got notified that I was tagged in a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-3082104411445289662?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/3082104411445289662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/facebook-addiction.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3082104411445289662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3082104411445289662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/facebook-addiction.html' title='Facebook Addiction'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-4119901229938930746</id><published>2009-02-18T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T05:36:51.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ain't nothin like the real thing</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to share my random thought this morning.  I've been trying to end all my blogs by saying, Cause There Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing, but it has become to hard to try to swing some of my thoughts for that line to make sense.  I really wanted to be like Rev Run at the end of his show, he'd always say...God is Love, Rev Run.  So, as you can tell...I've stopped trying.  I hope you can forgive me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-4119901229938930746?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/4119901229938930746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/aint-nothin-like-real-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/4119901229938930746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/4119901229938930746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/aint-nothin-like-real-thing.html' title='ain&apos;t nothin like the real thing'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-6750240938774878972</id><published>2009-02-17T06:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T06:40:34.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion 2010</title><content type='html'>Pretty pumped.  I've wanted to go to a Passion Conference ever since I heard about them back in the day and last night Chris pulled up something about it on the internet....some kind of live feed with Louie Gigglio and Chris Tomlin.  Anyways...we watched that janx and I got some kind of super excited.  Chris registered for it last night, but I did it this morning.  Really, I'm pretty pumped about it.  I can kill 2 birds with one stone on this trip.  I can say that I've gone to a Passion Conference and I'll be able to see Shannon's pad.  I've been telling her I'm coming for the longest time, now I'll be able to live up to my words.  I even called her last night, so she could put it in her calendar.  Who wouldn't want a 10 month notice??  Anyways...I'm pretty pumped and ready to go.  Peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-6750240938774878972?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/6750240938774878972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/passion-2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6750240938774878972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6750240938774878972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/passion-2010.html' title='Passion 2010'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-4470295800003872106</id><published>2009-02-13T08:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T08:39:35.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't understand weather</title><content type='html'>So.  This week has been the most beautiful weather...so flippin nice.  I'm going home this weekend to help Phillip install cabinets into his new house, and I was so excited about having the doors open to the house and just being able to enjoy the day while working inside.  I go to &lt;a href="http://www.wral.com/"&gt;www.wral.com&lt;/a&gt; this morning, and bump!!!!!! a mere 48 degrees for the high and rainy.  I don't flippin understand this garbage.  72 degrees all flippin week long.  I work in an office where I can't be outside, and the one day of the week where I can be outside as long as I want, its 48 and rainy.  Garbage.  I can't really even put into words the frustration that I'm feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-4470295800003872106?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/4470295800003872106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-understand-weather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/4470295800003872106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/4470295800003872106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-understand-weather.html' title='I don&apos;t understand weather'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-3753851279062742453</id><published>2009-01-31T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T18:11:46.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friday</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to fill you in on my day yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got home from work at 5:14 yesterday and there was no Lexy to be found.  Heart brokened I was.  Cry I did not.  I went walking the neighborhood calling for her...no dog to be seen.  I called all the Animal Shelters, but they were all closed.  The feeling of, there is nothing I can do, swept over me.  What a terrrible feeling that is too.  Well about 6:11 I heard a whimpering at my back door.  She was home!!!!!!!!!!!  Jubilation took the place of sorrow.  It felt great to have my baby back in my arms....After playing with her, I decided to go play volleyball in Cary.  Got there and on the very first play, I went up to block a shot, and came down on some guys foot. BOOM, BANG, CLASH...(I think of the old Batman TV show).  It was over...I was down for the night.  Hopefully I just rolled it.  I think I'm going to the Outpatient place on Monday for X-rays.  The guy whose foot I landed on...never, not once came and asked how I was doing.  I was sitting on the floor when he left and he walked right by me...Nothing...not nothing...he walked right flippin by me.  Anways...I decided not to leave ill...got in my car drove myself home...had a great time of P&amp;amp;W...oh well...hope that your Friday was better than mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the time with your dog if you have one...and enjoy the time with your ankle if its in good health...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause There Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-3753851279062742453?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/3753851279062742453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-friday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3753851279062742453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/3753851279062742453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-friday.html' title='My Friday'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-5821178423654293219</id><published>2009-01-26T08:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:24:50.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First House Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend I had my first house party...it was pretty legit. K-Heff and I threw a suprise birthday party for her b/f, my roommate. It really turned out better than I really could have imagined. About 25 people showed up and we really had a good time. Old faces and new times. What I loved most about the night was the 20 minutes of P &amp;amp; W to end the night on. Here are a few pics of the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3jg3YbKaI/AAAAAAAAADE/5VU3dUomZVk/s1600-h/P1240407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295638890619283874" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3jg3YbKaI/AAAAAAAAADE/5VU3dUomZVk/s200/P1240407.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3i4Gd35wI/AAAAAAAAAC0/ZTybk18Yu28/s1600-h/P1240412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295638190294034178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3i4Gd35wI/AAAAAAAAAC0/ZTybk18Yu28/s320/P1240412.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3jJIRrMSI/AAAAAAAAAC8/OP7YuYSfM3w/s1600-h/P1240408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295638482837516578" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3jJIRrMSI/AAAAAAAAAC8/OP7YuYSfM3w/s200/P1240408.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go out and throw yourself a house party...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cause There Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing&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/7087702819618776213-5821178423654293219?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/5821178423654293219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-house-party.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5821178423654293219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5821178423654293219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-house-party.html' title='First House Party'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3jg3YbKaI/AAAAAAAAADE/5VU3dUomZVk/s72-c/P1240407.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-6737413691906096193</id><published>2009-01-23T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:36:37.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXoAHcxLMUI/AAAAAAAAACk/jJkkSIoPwqg/s1600-h/lexy+lexy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294544439908970818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXoAHcxLMUI/AAAAAAAAACk/jJkkSIoPwqg/s320/lexy+lexy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I was awaken by my dog...not that that is not normal, but yesterday was extra special. Extra special? you may ask. It wasn't a lick to the face, it wasn't a bark, it wasn't her clawing at the door to go outside...it was way more special than the stereotypical way a dog may wake his owner...Have you guessed it yet? Have ya, have ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pooted on me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't the smell that woke me up...it was the noise. I was blown away...literally...how awesome is that!!!! I hope that all of you will one day be able to enjoy that sensation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause There Ain't Nothin Like the Real Thing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-6737413691906096193?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/6737413691906096193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/dog-days.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6737413691906096193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6737413691906096193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/dog-days.html' title='Dog Days'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXoAHcxLMUI/AAAAAAAAACk/jJkkSIoPwqg/s72-c/lexy+lexy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-6558124986511641482</id><published>2009-01-22T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:14:37.894-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some meals are just meals, some meals just hit the spot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3hZyB1i1I/AAAAAAAAACs/owGXG9qeV4I/s1600-h/P1210383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295636569900026706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3hZyB1i1I/AAAAAAAAACs/owGXG9qeV4I/s320/P1210383.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Some meals are just meals, some meals just hit the spot, that was one that hit the spot" ~~ Chris Wilson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Chris and I decided that it would be a good night for breakfast, and boy was he right. After a trip to Wally World we were ready to begin. Pancakes, eggs w/ cheese, cinnamon rolls, sausage, bacon, milk, and orange juice. We had a feast that would match the first Thanksgiving. It was a meal that you could not help but to over eat, we were driven to over eat. I would urge you to cook breafast sometime, b/c I know reading this, your mouth is salivating...so...go...cook it...eat it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause There Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-6558124986511641482?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/6558124986511641482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-meals-are-just-meals-some-meals.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6558124986511641482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/6558124986511641482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-meals-are-just-meals-some-meals.html' title='Some meals are just meals, some meals just hit the spot'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SX3hZyB1i1I/AAAAAAAAACs/owGXG9qeV4I/s72-c/P1210383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-2278867817725674616</id><published>2009-01-16T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:12:23.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunsets and Caswell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkcnM1O-lI/AAAAAAAAACM/0h0RMolWJiU/s1600-h/collage8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294294296735709778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkcnM1O-lI/AAAAAAAAACM/0h0RMolWJiU/s320/collage8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have at least 2 loves of my life, sunsets and Caswell. I love sunsets. Love em, Love em, Love em. My love for sunsets must have begun when I started working at Caswell back in '01. You will not convince me that there is any place more beautiful to watch a sunset. In the summer, the sun sets over the sound...in the winter...it sets over the ocean. Where else can that happen...I'm sure there is probably a place...but I've never been there. I've been asked before...what do you see God in? Simple answer. But I don't answer that question, I tell them to ask it correctly and I'll answer...In what do you see God, they'll ask. Sunsets I say. While working at Caswell, I've probably watched about300 sun&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkdQZSNY3I/AAAAAAAAACc/YgxyhgGRdyU/s1600-h/n22214537_34629379_4235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294295004453102450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkdQZSNY3I/AAAAAAAAACc/YgxyhgGRdyU/s320/n22214537_34629379_4235.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sets and each one is more beautiful that the day before. Now that I hardly make it back to Caswell, I hear this song and it takes me back to that peaceful feeling of watching a sunset at Caswell. So many hot, long, stressful days working at Caswell, but at the end of each day, God would bless us with something more beautiful than any of us ever deserved to lay eyes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkcw7uF_0I/AAAAAAAAACU/McjI6FpSqfk/s1600-h/03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294294463941050178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkcw7uF_0I/AAAAAAAAACU/McjI6FpSqfk/s320/03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day,&lt;br /&gt;With the setting of the sun,&lt;br /&gt;After all is said and done,&lt;br /&gt;What else can I do,&lt;br /&gt;But Worship,&lt;br /&gt;What else can I do,&lt;br /&gt;But Bow,&lt;br /&gt;Cause all I really long for,&lt;br /&gt;Is you,&lt;br /&gt;All I really yearn for&lt;br /&gt;Is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~Steve Fee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggest that you watch the next sunset whenever possible and let it be a time of worship for you. Take it in, take the time to sit in peace and enjoy a gift from God. See God in all his majesty. Don't just read the post, live it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause There Ain't Nothin Like the Real Thing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-2278867817725674616?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/2278867817725674616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/sunsets-and-caswell.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/2278867817725674616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/2278867817725674616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/sunsets-and-caswell.html' title='Sunsets and Caswell'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXkcnM1O-lI/AAAAAAAAACM/0h0RMolWJiU/s72-c/collage8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-5735767295849681230</id><published>2009-01-16T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T13:02:42.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A story about Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recieved this story from my brother:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291998207449356866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 363px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD0VNsF2kI/AAAAAAAAABs/mKfkxtzoY9I/s320/me+and+the+girls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even the total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store, with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! 'And what do you want?' the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he said without waiting for a reply to his question. 'Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,' Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. 'He's really, really sick...and I want to buy a miracle.' 'I beg your pardon?' said the pharmacist. 'His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?' 'We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little. 'Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.' The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a miracle does your brother need?' ' I don't know,' Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. B&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD0olUsnOI/AAAAAAAAAB0/veVuBM0XjfQ/s1600-h/benandphil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291998540211199202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD0olUsnOI/AAAAAAAAAB0/veVuBM0XjfQ/s320/benandphil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ut my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money.' 'How much do you have?' asked the man from Chicago 'One dollar and eleven cents,' Tess answered barely audibly. 'And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.' 'Well, what a coincidence,' smiled the man. 'A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. ' He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said 'Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need.' That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. 'That surgery,' her Mom whispered. 'was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?' Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost..one dollar and eleven cents....plus the faith of a little child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD1EWtLxbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/HENT7bVihVs/s1600-h/P9190157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291999017323709874" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD1EWtLxbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/HENT7bVihVs/s320/P9190157.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;        &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD1y94Z1CI/AAAAAAAAACE/jhrzkALMkPI/s1600-h/P6150092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291999818113733666" style="WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD1y94Z1CI/AAAAAAAAACE/jhrzkALMkPI/s320/P6150092.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;MY OATH TO YOU...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are sad.....I will dry your tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are scared.....I will comfort your fears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are worried.....I will give you hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are confused.......I will help you cope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you are lost...And can't see the light,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be your beacon....Shining ever so bright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my oath.....I pledge till the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why you may ask?...Because you're my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed: GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As beautiful as this story is, it barely scratches the surface of a true friendship with someone. So, if you read this post, and you're without friend...go make one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause there Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing&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/7087702819618776213-5735767295849681230?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/5735767295849681230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/story-about-friendship.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5735767295849681230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5735767295849681230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/story-about-friendship.html' title='A story about Friendship'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXD0VNsF2kI/AAAAAAAAABs/mKfkxtzoY9I/s72-c/me+and+the+girls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087702819618776213.post-5211823528317069892</id><published>2009-01-15T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T10:16:43.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blog, First Home, First Meal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The first post of a blog, I'm sure is supposed to be something awesome and mindblowing, but I have a feeling neither this post, or any otherposts will live up to your standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, about a month ago, I jumped into home ownership and tonight was the first time that I've really cooked a meal for myself...and my brand new roommate in my brand new house. Ok, the house is not new, it was built in 1954, but I'm new to it. Since the title of this revolves around firsts, I have decided to share with you my first dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I read the instructions through, and I thought to myself...man, this has got to be an easy meal to make. But as soon as I started to thaw the chicken, doubt started creeping in. Turns out that it was a pretty easy meal, and a good one, and I think you should have the option to make it one night. So here is the recipe:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXDOnzVN9HI/AAAAAAAAABk/GTWyJQuw2Cs/s1600-h/myfirstmeal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291956745349756018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXDOnzVN9HI/AAAAAAAAABk/GTWyJQuw2Cs/s320/myfirstmeal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;INGREDIENTS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 1/3 cups uncooked white rice&lt;br /&gt;2 2/3 cups water&lt;br /&gt;4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves&lt;br /&gt;2 cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese&lt;br /&gt;2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese&lt;br /&gt;1 (10.75 ounce) can condensed cream of chicken soup&lt;br /&gt;1 (10.75 ounce) can condensed cream of mushroom soup&lt;br /&gt;1 onion, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cups mild salsa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="ctl00_CenterColumnPlaceHolder_RecipeToolsControl_lnkAddToShoppingListIcon" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Salsa-Chicken-Rice-Casserole/AddToShoppingList.ashx?rurl=http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Salsa-Chicken-Rice-Casserole/Detail.aspx&amp;amp;rid=17952&amp;amp;rserve=8" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;DIRECTIONS&lt;br /&gt;-Place rice and water in a saucepan, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;-Meanwhile, place chicken breast halves into a large saucepan, and fill the pan with water. Bring to a boil, and cook for 20 minutes, or until done. Remove chicken from water. When cool enough to handle, cut meat into bite-size pieces.&lt;br /&gt;-Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease a 9x13 inch baking dish.&lt;br /&gt;-In a medium bowl, combine Monterey Jack and Cheddar cheeses. In a separate bowl, mix together cream of chicken soup, cream of mushroom soup, onion, and salsa. Layer 1/2 of the rice, 1/2 of the chicken, 1/2 of the soup and salsa mixture, and 1/2 of the cheese mixture in prepared dish. Repeat layers, ending with cheese.&lt;br /&gt;-Bake in preheated oven for about 40 minutes, or until bubbly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&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&gt;I know this sounds and looks incredible...so, go make it for yourself...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cause there Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7087702819618776213-5211823528317069892?l=nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/feeds/5211823528317069892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog-first-home-first-meal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5211823528317069892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7087702819618776213/posts/default/5211823528317069892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nothinliketherealthing.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog-first-home-first-meal.html' title='First Blog, First Home, First Meal'/><author><name>Tm$ney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03300850865851903851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SZ3G221hUpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/991ehNS4FPg/S220/l_e3aafc6001496245e90afcffa0f4a270.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vXpeVWybk3g/SXDOnzVN9HI/AAAAAAAAABk/GTWyJQuw2Cs/s72-c/myfirstmeal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
