<?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-9340140</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:45:46.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas</title><subtitle type='html'>Nonsense and absurdities galore. The perfect place to waste your precious time...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-111524672730322732</id><published>2005-05-04T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T15:45:27.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bananas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming Soon: Fun Facts... i ll get around to it. I have em coming out wazoo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-111524672730322732?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/111524672730322732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=111524672730322732' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/111524672730322732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/111524672730322732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2005/05/bananas.html' title='Bananas'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-111283017778867459</id><published>2005-04-06T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T16:31:39.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas: Fuck you rocky</title><content type='html'>So here's the deal. Some half-wit left a comment on my last entry comlaining about my spellage of the word "genious." Ill spell it like my 3rd grade teacher taught me. Damn you Rocky. Damn you to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the record.. I will furthermore be spelling GENIOUS like it should have been spelled from the begining. HA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-111283017778867459?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/111283017778867459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=111283017778867459' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/111283017778867459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/111283017778867459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2005/04/bananas-fuck-you-rocky.html' title='Bananas: Fuck you rocky'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110905035510723256</id><published>2005-02-22T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T14:05:42.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Ahead</title><content type='html'>Well,the wait is over. Ive made up my mind. Emmet and I are to have a child and it will be named &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Ebony Taylor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Isnt that beautiful? Damn, i wish my parents were as cool as i am, maybe then i wouldnt have some dumb, half-ass name like Jamie Lynn. Alright, you got me. So i like it. But that doesnt make them cool parents by a long shot.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the only dilema: what if she's albino? Then we'd be in a &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;pickle.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Worse yet, what if we didnt find out until she got older? She'd be harassed out of her mind. An albino child named Ebony. But wait- &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I &lt;em&gt;HAVE&lt;/em&gt; THE ANSWER!&lt;/span&gt; By the time I have a kid itll be like.. what? 2020 something. So theyll definetly have all that DNA altering data all sorted out. Ill just twist a few knobs and turn a few gears and voila! &lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Brilliant brunette&lt;/span&gt; on a tray! Im such a genious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110905035510723256?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110905035510723256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110905035510723256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110905035510723256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110905035510723256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2005/02/thinking-ahead.html' title='Thinking Ahead'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110910960019706392</id><published>2005-02-22T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T14:00:00.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its a beautiful World we live in</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bananas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110910960019706392?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110910960019706392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110910960019706392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110910960019706392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110910960019706392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2005/02/its-beautiful-world-we-live-in.html' title='Its a beautiful World we live in'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110895938757563628</id><published>2005-02-20T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T20:27:03.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>now everyone is pleased</title><content type='html'>Yes thats right. Its me... and im back. I can just feel the vibrations of your jovial little clapping hands. I have in fact succeeded in the tedious mission of painting my toenails. And dont you worry: my expertise in this area of study has advanced to become proffesionalized over the ages. They are blue.. but the real magic is in the sparkles. Thats the actual kicker, the sparkles, that is.&lt;br /&gt;So i went to the dance last night and let me just make it known outright that it was perhaps the single most gayest hour and a half of my life. My god. The whole day in itself was rather a dissapointment, from the anticipation i had known beforehand.&lt;br /&gt;I awoke sometime around 11:00 (with which i was pleased for the most part, as i had originally expected to sleep the day away),and then i got out of bed and painted for a session of time. Next i went downstairs and rewarded myself with a nice full bowl of cereal. By this time it was around 3:57, and Emmet Bradworthy from the society decided to give me a ring. It was with him i would be attending the dance that night.He informed me that we would be going over to Charles Henry's house as soon as he and April O'Leary returned from some Hockey Game.He told me he'd call when the time was ripe. I said "sublime" and hung up.&lt;br /&gt;I took my time getting ready.&lt;br /&gt;I took a shower and blow dried my hair. I mulled over whether or not i should put it up or do something to it. After all, it was sort of a big event, and sometimes a little change is fun. But then i realized: i didnt want to deal with it, and besides.. who's kidding who around here? My job is to be bitchy, not fun.&lt;br /&gt;I stayed in my pajamas until 6:45 when Emmet rang and asked if i was ready. I assured him i was, and then hung up and hurried about fulfilling my promise. I threw my dress and other miscellanious items into a backpack, threw on some ordinary clothes, glanced in the mirror (sufficient), and then sprang out the door.&lt;br /&gt;When i arrived at Charles Henry's, April and Emmet were already there.They were indulging in a splendid feast of poptarts and popcorn, which i of course took part in first off. Then we went down to the basement to watch a movie, "Saun of the Dead." Emmet and I sat on the chair, while April and Charles took the Sofa. The movie was ridiculous, but naturally, i still jumped at all the most predictable places. Emmet thankfully was there to cradle and caress my hand and keep me from harm (of which there was none).&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time to get ready for the dance. Charles and Emmet took April and I to April's house where we would prepare ourselves. They went back to Charles' to get ready and told us to call when we were ready.&lt;br /&gt;April is a really nice girl, and we bonded for a time in the rush of belated preparation. I noticed a poem on the wall of her bedroom from Charles, and was touched by it, then simultaneously struck with envy and made a note of it to inform Emmet that he sucked (which i did).&lt;br /&gt;When we were ready, we called Charles' house. The boys picked us up and we were off. We arrived at the dance an hour and a half late, but soon found we hadnt missed much. Emmet and i danced for a while, but neither of us really got into it much. The music was dreadful. As far as i could tell they only played a single slow song all night and it was some ridiculous samba/polka-ish something or other. It was nice just to be with Emmet, and i think we were grateful to have someone we cared for, that made sense to us there, because everything else was just entirely off-kilter. Slutty, raving, freshmen were gyrating all over the arena, and cocky upperclassmen were pretty much just getting off on it. The whole process completely turned me off, and i was glad to have Emmet there to understand and cast looks of disguist at.&lt;br /&gt;We left early and the drive home was probably the best part of the night. Emmet and I talked about the night. He had been feeling under the weather all day, and the dance hadn't inmproved his condition any. He didnt want to kiss me because he was afraid id get sick. I honestly didnt care as long as it was from him, and besides i assured him i wouldnt get sick anyhow. Before i left we shared a quick, careful, embrace and, of course , i awoke at 4:13 in the morning with a sinus infection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110895938757563628?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110895938757563628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110895938757563628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110895938757563628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110895938757563628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2005/02/now-everyone-is-pleased.html' title='now everyone is pleased'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110194770290458918</id><published>2004-12-01T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T16:47:38.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Adventures in Wordland</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Melifluous-a-"meliffloous"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- sounding sweet or smooth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;pathetic fallacy-n-"pathetick falla.C"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the atribution of human feelings and charactersitics to inanimate things&lt;br /&gt;(ex: the pissed off tree)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;pentagogue-n-"pentagog"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;teacher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;asinine-v-ass.in.9&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt; like or of an ass. stupid, silly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;aureole-n- kinda like "oreo" but not&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt; a halo, a corona around the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;auspice- n-"uspiss"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;an omen' usually fovorable omen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;avuncular-a-"of unck Q lar"-&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;of or like an uncle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;awol or AWOL-v-"a wall"-&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Absent With Out Leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;azure-v-"as your"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; blue, sky blue, or any other similar blue color&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;retrospect-n-"retro speck t"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;contemplation of the past&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;rhetoric-n-" ret or ick"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; art of using words effectively&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;systole-n- "sis toe lee"-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to the regular rythmic beating or contraction of the heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110194770290458918?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110194770290458918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110194770290458918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110194770290458918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110194770290458918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/12/more-adventures-in-wordland.html' title='More Adventures in Wordland'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110178983580512929</id><published>2004-11-29T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T16:53:51.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conjecular</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Hey bitches&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; So glad you decided to tune in for &lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Jamie Hour&lt;/span&gt;. Its about damn time. I dont think you realize just how much effort goes into one of these blogs, as they are called in the &lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;old country.&lt;/span&gt; Each word is &lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;hand selected to produce only the finest in lexaconic structure&lt;/span&gt;. And a lexacon is like.. your personal vocabulary. The words you use. You were dying to ask, but you didnt want to, because you didnt want to sound stupid. I know how it goes. I read your little minds.. yes, even the fine print is filtered through my massive, &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;conjecular&lt;/span&gt; brain. Alright, so i made that one up. &lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Nuts.&lt;/span&gt; Time to go. In the words of my 11 year old sister, &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;"Smell ya later."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110178983580512929?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110178983580512929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110178983580512929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110178983580512929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110178983580512929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/conjecular.html' title='Conjecular'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110166779571513855</id><published>2004-11-28T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T10:55:20.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gherkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Another day.. another useless amount of time spent writting nonsense absurdities to no one inparticular. God bless America. So, heres the thing: my hands smell like fish. "Well," you might be thinking.."That makes perfectly perfect sense because you just ATE FISH." Dont be so sure, my friend. Dont be so sure. This mysterious occurence is velied with mystery and perplexity&lt;em&gt;...*Fog begins to filter slowly into room through crack between door and floor*&lt;/em&gt; You see&lt;em&gt;..*fold hands. raises eyebrows*&lt;/em&gt; I/ my hands have lacked any physical or tangible contact with any sort of fish-born species for many a day. Why then do i detect the foul odor of such an animal? Well, i dont know about you, but my celebral cortex is lacking the ambition to solutize this dilema.So we'll move on...&lt;br /&gt;Umm...i highly recommend the site www.hammario.tk to anyone who reads this. Friend of mine.Video games and the like. good kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hammario.tk"&gt;http://www.hammario.tk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hammario.tk"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;so yeah. click right there, if you feel so entitled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Alright, well you have a good time. Be sure to check in again soon. And leave me a goddamn comment for the love of pete, so i can be getting some sort of input from all this treacherous work.&lt;/span&gt; Thanks shug. -j.l.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110166779571513855?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110166779571513855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110166779571513855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110166779571513855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110166779571513855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/gherkins.html' title='Gherkins'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110161008570649752</id><published>2004-11-27T21:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T11:01:22.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Vocabulary/ Your Brain's Dinner..bon appetite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WORDS TO USE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;-in using the following words in everyday sentences, you can baffle your friends, astound your enemies, and shut down your teachers. Use them wisely....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;idiosyncracies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-n-"ideeosinkrasy"- something peculiar about a person, mannerism&lt;br /&gt;(ex: your bulbous nose is quite idiosyncric.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ensuing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-v-ensooing"- to come afterward, follow (2) to result&lt;br /&gt;(ex: ensuing your reading of this, your intelligence level will increase by 3.4%, to be sure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hiatus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-n-"hiatus"- gap or break; where a part is missing&lt;br /&gt;hell if i know how to use that in a sentence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;acquisition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-n-"ackwazishun"- a gaining by one's own efforts; to acquire, take, granted, inheritance&lt;br /&gt;(ex: I acquised this knowledge by my very own brilliance.. and with help of a dictionary or two.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;jaded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-a-"jayded"- tired, worn-out, dull or satiated&lt;br /&gt;(ex:j-j-j-jaded! ..and so on and so forth.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;satiated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-a-"sateeated"- a cool word in the definition for jaded that i assume means tired or the like&lt;br /&gt;(ex: typing all these cool words for you is causing me much satiation.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;enigmatic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-a-"enigmatick"- riddle like, baffling, perplexing&lt;br /&gt;(ex: Gabriel often says enigmatic things, but.. they turn me on somehow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;extricate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-v-"Xtrick8"- to set free&lt;br /&gt;(ex: extricate me from your grasp immediately!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;amalgram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-n-"animal-ni+gram"- mixture, blend&lt;br /&gt;(ex: i am an amalgram of intelligence and sophistication.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;esoteric&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-v-"essoterick" -intended for or understood by only a chosen few (like an inside joke)&lt;br /&gt;(ex: I oten tell esoteric jokes to make unconcerning people angry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;estuary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-n"estUary" -wide mouth of a river into which the tide flows from the sea&lt;br /&gt;yeah. i dont care about this one. but its a cool word, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;ALRIGHT. WELL YOU HAVE FUN WITH THOSE. I HOPE I HAVE SHED LIGHT ON PARTS OF YOUR BRAIN YOU NEVER IMAGINED EXISTED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110161008570649752?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110161008570649752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110161008570649752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110161008570649752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110161008570649752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/daily-vocabulary-your-brains-dinnerbon.html' title='Daily Vocabulary/ Your Brain&apos;s Dinner..bon appetite'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110158097144852772</id><published>2004-11-27T10:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T11:04:45.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grass Grows Short</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;I was just gazing out my window while indulging in an ice cold glass of chocolate milk. I was ponderingthe idea of winter, and how quickly it seems to be approaching. As we all know, along with winter, comes a glorious&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;aand majestic process I like to call Christmas. I really like Christmas. I guess thats nothing knew. I mean, who doesnt? But perhaps it appeals to me for slightly different reasons. Dont go telling the world, (here i am&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;posting it on the world wide web..) but i really like Christmas music. Kinda turns me on, you know? Makes me want to spend time with the people i love most. I love how the air feels when its about to snow, and the smell&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;of cold. And I like snowflakes in my hair, and pink noses. And i really dont even care that much about the presents. Really. Im not some kind of perfect, selfless person either. The fact is though, that you could make &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;me happier by giving me a hand-crafted card than by anything else. Alright, well ive had enough of this sentimenal holiday spirit. Im such a girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110158097144852772?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110158097144852772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110158097144852772' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110158097144852772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110158097144852772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/grass-grows-short.html' title='Grass Grows Short'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110153262583638989</id><published>2004-11-27T01:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T11:32:34.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;i feel like writting something, but im not really so sure what. So i figure, instead of wasting time thinking of something cool that people will actually care about, why not just write what im thinking? Thats interesting. Common.. name one person who wouldnt like to get inside this bitch's head. Now, I realize you can comment on this, but if i find a comment in there that says "I dont" youre one of two things or both: gay or predictable. Then again you could just be an unoriginal, run of the mill bastard. By the way, if you are in fact homosexual, take no offense to the above statement. I live in a small redneck town, and homosexuality is consideredfar more offensive than ignorance unfortunately. You get accustomed to using the same come-backs over and over again, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;Next paragraph. hmmm... i can tell bybthe look in your eyes that your just dying to see what ill say next. What can i say? ...I have a way with keeping people on the edge of their seats.Alright, well im plum out of witty comments and idle time. See you on the flip side. -j.l.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110153262583638989?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110153262583638989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110153262583638989' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110153262583638989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110153262583638989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-feel-like-writting-something-but-im.html' title=''/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9340140.post-110151933476118953</id><published>2004-11-26T20:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-26T17:35:34.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Begining</title><content type='html'>In the Begining, I woke up on the day after Thanksgiving, only to find the hour had well surpassed what i thought it should have been, 3:34..PM. I took a double take at my alarm clock, and then allowed my eyes the time to focus in on the clock across the room, on the wall. Finally i directed my attention to the watch on my wrist, or rather, my wrist watch. Finally convinced, i let my head fall back onto the pillow, throwing the covers back over my head. I sighed the elongated sigh of a person who has just realized they've slept the day away. &lt;br /&gt;    Then, to further complete this line of events, i stared blankly at the ceiling for 15 minutes, basking in the depleting traces of bodily warmth i had successfully sent flowing to the corners of my bedsheets throughout the preceeding night. When the last remnants of comfort had vanished, and i could find no other cause to remain in this idle state, i wrestled myself from the conglomeration of blankets and pillows. At long last, I stood at my bedside glaring at the ragmuffin of a girl staring back at me from the full length mirror oposite my bed. God, what a day.&lt;br /&gt;   I meandered my way down the stairs, feet dragging, into the bathroom. I was once again appauled and disgusted by my reflection in the mirror, and allowed a few fleeting thoughts to cross my mind. (1) What in Gods green earth had persuaded my mother to invest in such a large, overpowering mirror? A mirror is evil if you cant escape from it when you've had youre fill of "beautiful physique."  (2) Why arent there curtains on mirrors? If someone can have the desire to pull the drapes down on the outside world, a window, what makes people think we will always want to look in mirrors? &lt;br /&gt;(3) Wow, im crazy.. can we move on?&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;    So I began to brush god only knows how many hours of plaque and gingivitis off the surface of my teeth.Thats how it felt anyhow. I also busted out the floss and listerene. If youre gonna do it, do it all, am i right?&lt;br /&gt;   Now that i had accomplished a sparkling, clean smile (watch: t wasn't), I continued to go about my day. After many hours of wasted time and fruitless efforts to become useful, I landed myself in this very chair, and took it upon myself to insert this entry into the endless, enticing files of my humanity. If youd care to read this entry, simply scroll to the top. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9340140-110151933476118953?l=bananasarealright.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/feeds/110151933476118953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9340140&amp;postID=110151933476118953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110151933476118953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9340140/posts/default/110151933476118953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bananasarealright.blogspot.com/2004/11/in-begining.html' title='In The Begining'/><author><name>bananas are alright</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03016255783364695047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
