<?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-7323474626050498448</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:05:01.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>zenra meditations</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1620798922210158767</id><published>2009-04-19T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T11:10:58.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>New girl glow eyes blue outside the edges.&lt;br /&gt;Purple lips. Bad at liking girls.&lt;br /&gt;An old chinese fortune cookie promise and a fresh poem she wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primal conversations neighboring and the door slams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1620798922210158767?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1620798922210158767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/profile_19.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1620798922210158767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1620798922210158767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/profile_19.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1271564405130324336</id><published>2009-04-19T11:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T11:07:32.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>Yell "CRAZY HOOOOOOO!" on tar roof tops painted silver to keep the temperature of the entire city down round ground level where sweat is an equalizer. Steamy cheekbone bathroom illuminated. Red tea scarf.&lt;br /&gt;Humor over insanity inner city outside in the grass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1271564405130324336?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1271564405130324336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/yell-crazy-hooooooo-on-tar-roof-tops.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1271564405130324336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1271564405130324336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/yell-crazy-hooooooo-on-tar-roof-tops.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-4327858577086467340</id><published>2009-04-19T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T11:03:04.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Profile</title><content type='html'>beautiful buddha answer of dumbfounding dumbness make you go "Ahhhh" it's that simple so and doesn't seem real. Nonsensical harmony of new messiah message man - bumbling beard and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My socks are soaked!"&lt;br /&gt;"unsoak them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new epic poem of unepic answers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-4327858577086467340?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/4327858577086467340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/profile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/4327858577086467340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/4327858577086467340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/profile.html' title='Profile'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-979813776207086624</id><published>2009-04-11T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T13:01:59.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DRAW TOUR S.F.</title><content type='html'>Today is the opening for the first real show that I've been involved in. Super psyched. Here's the Press Release and a link to images. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.fusegallerynyc.com/DrawTour/tour.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On exhibit at:&lt;br /&gt;SHOOTING GALLERY&lt;br /&gt;839 Larkin St&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco, CA 94109&lt;br /&gt;(415) 931-8035&lt;br /&gt;www.shootinggallerysf.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;APRIL 11th – MAY 7th 2009 &lt;br /&gt;Opening Reception: Saturday, April 11th, 2009 7-11pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAW is a must-see art exhibition featuring original drawings by over 300 artists in the skateboard, music, urban, tattoo, literature, design, illustration, animation, psychedelic and new contemporary art worlds. The show is a tribute to the often underrated but &lt;br /&gt;fundamental building block of visual and graphic art: the drawing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAW is the largest contemporary drawing exhibition to emerge out of New York City. Most recently, the exhibit drew over 2000 people to its London debut at StolenSpace, East London’s Leading Contemporary Urban Art Gallery. The exhibit debuted in October &lt;br /&gt;of 2006 at NYC’s Fuse Gallery to phenomenal response from audience and press alike. It had an equally impressive showing during the SXSW 2007 Music and Interactive-Film Festival in Austin, Texas. DRAW is currently on a six-country world tour that includes &lt;br /&gt;future showings in Tokyo, Paris, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and Berlin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artists whose original works are in the show include: Alex Grey, HR Giger, Clive Barker, Richard Serra, David Byrne, Dalek, Gibby Haynes of Butthole Surfers, psychedelic legend Rick Griffin, Ron English, Neck Face, skate legend Mark Gonzales, Ed Templeton, Jack Rudy, Sorayama, Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance), WK Interact, Camille Rose Garcia, Tim Biskup, Benjamin Cho, Mark Bode, Kevin Llewellyn, Michael Hussar, Eric White, Rich Jacobs, Shawn Barber, Mike Giant, DAZE, Derek Hess, Mark Dean Veca, Brian Degraw, Nate Loman, Brendan Fowler, Aurel Schmidt, Gary Baseman, Shepard Fairey, Tara McPherson, Mars-One, Hank Williams III, and many, many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAW is curated by Erik Foss and Curse Mackey with guest curators Justin Giarla, Rich Jacobs, Jamie O’Shea, Tim Barber, Damian Weinkratz, Les Barany, Brendan Fowler, Mike Aho, Sto, Lisa Lebofsky and D* Face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special thanks to Louisa St. Pierre, Peter Rosenthall, Amy Rosi, Shelter Serra and Ivory Serra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For interviews with the curators/artists, high-res images or any other information please contact: &lt;br /&gt;press@shootinggallerysf.com&lt;br /&gt;phone: 415-931-8035&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-979813776207086624?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/979813776207086624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/draw-tour-sf.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/979813776207086624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/979813776207086624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/04/draw-tour-sf.html' title='DRAW TOUR S.F.'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-8115114860472678230</id><published>2009-02-09T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T17:41:45.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Makin' Mends</title><content type='html'>I love it when bummerdom becomes productivity. I was really bummed out for a while there round about christmas time and it really sucked. I lost a lot in terms of my ideas about the way things should work between people and their communications and in terms of the function of hope. It resulted in me starting this blog and rambling about everything and anything (especially love). It also resulted in me fasting a bit and then drinking heavily. But what's important is that I made something good out of it. I needed to distract myself or else I couldn't sleep so I turned to the thing that is second most important in my life: art. And my solution wasn't to focus on making my own art. It would have been terrible. I instead started to focus on everyone else's art. I started putting together art shows with the help of my roommates called Fresh Grown Local that focus  on showing the art of our friends in a celebratory environment. Everyone is welcome. Then we could all drink to our hearts content in the context of art. We could damage our livers and our brains productively! The first show had a great turn out and the second one is coming up on the 27th and I couldn't be more excited. I needed that disappointment in order to focus on art and organizing these events. Ideally I want to develop an art focused community. That's something that I feel hasn't existed much since the eighties and not in prime form since the fifties and sixties. It's kind of a stretch to say that We're anywhere near developing this sort of community but I think these art parties are good for us anyway. I've made a bunch of new friends through it and become closer with old ones and it's just the beginning! I'm really excited about art and people in general. Still a bit numb but it's definitely residing. Pins and needles stage. &lt;br /&gt;New focus.&lt;br /&gt;New people.&lt;br /&gt;Good friends.&lt;br /&gt;Makin' Mends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-8115114860472678230?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/8115114860472678230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/02/makin-mends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8115114860472678230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8115114860472678230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/02/makin-mends.html' title='Makin&apos; Mends'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-5700973716626620388</id><published>2009-01-30T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T07:53:04.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pyramids</title><content type='html'>From the cup on the ground to the man in the crown,&lt;br /&gt;Not one exists more than another.&lt;br /&gt;2-D it. We live flat existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was woman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-5700973716626620388?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/5700973716626620388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/pyramids.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5700973716626620388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5700973716626620388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/pyramids.html' title='The Pyramids'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-7725161610729992208</id><published>2009-01-30T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T07:48:25.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everybody funny! Now you funny too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-7725161610729992208?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/7725161610729992208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/everybody-funny-now-you-funny-too.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7725161610729992208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7725161610729992208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/everybody-funny-now-you-funny-too.html' title=''/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1449665081243503428</id><published>2009-01-07T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T14:32:43.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True Romance</title><content type='html'>What does the truth mean? And what does the way that it's portrayed mean? That sounds like an unanswerable question or some sort of pseudo-intellectual meditation topic but I mean it more by degree and in a 'how does it impact a life' kind of way. There have been a few instances in my life where people have told me the truth and I later realized that it would not have mattered at all if they had done that. What does the truth matter to me if the words are not shown by means of action? What kind of truth, if any, do I want to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth has to be physical and then expressed in words. It can't work the other way around because language is an invention that can't quite grasp the all-over-ness of truth. Language simply bludgeons it's recipient with approximations and man-made abstractions until, perhaps, it is finally able to conjure up a feeling close to what it is attempting to convey. It is an imprecise and incomplete system that we have come to rely too heavily on. Truth was around before the invention of language and that's the order that they need to remain in. For truth to be conveyed, it requires physical aid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been one to show people how I feel about them rather than outright telling them (at first, at least). Sometimes it's by going out of my way for them, or making something for them, but whatever it is, it's me saying physically how I feel about them. Simply telling takes no effort aside from that of speech, which is all too easy sometimes, and means relatively little in comparison. Of course there may be foundations for the words, but there is no structure to house them. Build the house and then fill it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough, physical lies can be told as ell as truths and also very different in their physical and verbal states. Physical lies are a little less malicious than verbal ones. In terms of relationships, if two people sleep together with the appearance of caring about each other and afterwards it is discovered that one of the participants really couldn't give a shit, that's a sort of physical lie; but at least both of them got a (hopefully) good fuck out of it. It's like giving a present to someone because you have to. There is that pain that comes with the realization that the person didn't mean it, but at least you got a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verbal lies don't have any of the fun that physical ones do and can go on for far longer, so long as the physical act of 'making good' on the words can be avoided, and because of this are just downright mean. They can cause far greater pain and anxiety because of their ability to go on forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real truth can only be determined through physical action and followed up with verbal approximations and confirmation. Physical interactions are a way to determine what a person thinks about you and it's a way to enjoy it whether it be true or false in the end. If it does turn out to be a "lie," you can be sure there were intoxicants involved. In the case of a fist fight, you will definitely know the way a person feels about you and the pain resulting from it will engrave the occurrence forever in your memory and possibly your face. It's concrete. Even if a physical lie occurs, it can't last and it doesn't have the build up that verbal lies create in anticipation of their proof. It gets found out quick and it's easier to deal with because the idea of the truth hasn't been formulated into words yet so no attachment is formed and there is no way for it to sink in to the sentimental, language run brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again here I am advocating physicality. Being physical is the basis of living and neither physicality nor life exist as terms or states without the other. Go ahead and throw Love and Truth in there too. They're all connected and dependent upon one another. It's a web you can't break free of and there's constantly distractions, such as lies, and sadness, and spiders that might make you think hat life's all just a bunch of bullshit. It is though. But that's why you gotta love it. Thank God it's all just a game and we can play it how we like. We can smile now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Show people how you feel. Do something you mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1449665081243503428?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1449665081243503428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/true-romance.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1449665081243503428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1449665081243503428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/true-romance.html' title='True Romance'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-8119433532945352623</id><published>2009-01-01T12:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T14:34:38.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>James Joyce</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20070624001753/http://www.arlindo-correia.com/joyce.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://web.archive.org/web/20070624001753/http://www.arlindo-correia.com/joyce.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-8119433532945352623?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/8119433532945352623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/james-joyce.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8119433532945352623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8119433532945352623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2009/01/james-joyce.html' title='James Joyce'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-3565564588117060950</id><published>2008-12-26T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T21:47:23.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Polka Dotted Socks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVXBLuLUKPI/AAAAAAAAAEk/XYnINutITnM/s1600-h/Photo+207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVXBLuLUKPI/AAAAAAAAAEk/XYnINutITnM/s200/Photo+207.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284342144907356402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-3565564588117060950?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/3565564588117060950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/polka-dotted-socks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3565564588117060950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3565564588117060950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/polka-dotted-socks.html' title='Polka Dotted Socks'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVXBLuLUKPI/AAAAAAAAAEk/XYnINutITnM/s72-c/Photo+207.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1189452138014641707</id><published>2008-12-26T21:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T23:33:51.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>H.P. Lovecraft</title><content type='html'>Love's a silly thing, ain't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's anything that can cause you to run the gamut of emotions, it's the state of love. Love isn't a feeling itself though, it is the catalyst of feeling. I've never been sadder in my life than when when I'm in love with someone. I've also never been happier. Love is the concentration of all of those feelings and moments of exaltation that we experience occasionally. It's that euphoric feeling that rushes over you when you look up (in a state of sobriety) and suddenly all the bad things don't matter and you may as well be giving God a friendly hug, hands open, not in fists like an uncomfortable hugger would do. Love feels like that so often because it is the recognition of the source. Love is finding the source of exaltation in physical form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, once that source is realized, it's so easy to feel the opposite extreme. Only a slight miscommunication or non-communication mixed with the recent memory of that holy, friendly, hug of love can cause an extreme swing in emotion that could bring you to the lowest place you've been. These are both parts of love and you aren't in a state of loving if you haven't felt both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The swings can be difficult to handle. Unfortunately, I love easily. And unfortunately, I don't unlove easy.I also love selfishly, in a way. I give all of myself to people even if sometimes they don't want it. Sometimes people don't want all of you. They may enjoy your company but love is a burden that people don't always want to carry around with them. For some reason I don't feel like a whole person unless I love another. There's so many times where I feel like I'm missing something that I need like food or my beloved coconut water and I don't know what to do. I want to carry someone's burden, even if it's heavy. I've been workin' out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it feels so close and so present. Perfectly comfortable. Even smiley. Then I don't even know. I wanna know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this may seem negative, I wouldn't trade these feelings for the world. The highs and lows accentuate each other and it really takes so little to make me happy. Even a nice text message can make my day. I'm easy and hard a the same time. That makes me sound like a slut so it's really very funny how differently I mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want it reciprocated some time. I don't like guessing and I don't like the chase (like I once thought I did and assumed it could be the only reason for what I was doing to myself (really, I'm just an idiot sometimes)). I'm old fashioned (in a way), idealistic, and I drink too much. It's not always a good mix. It'd be nice to be needed like I need others. To be needed honestly and even to be told when I'm not wanted. It hurts less than guessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to love and to be loved. It a beautiful thing. Without love there'd be no art, no happiness, and no sadness. I'm sure there'd still be plenty of children though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1189452138014641707?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1189452138014641707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/hp-lovecraft.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1189452138014641707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1189452138014641707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/hp-lovecraft.html' title='H.P. Lovecraft'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1477121415199988488</id><published>2008-12-26T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T16:40:25.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Reading</title><content type='html'>Does being a well read person make you a smarter person? Does retaining the ideas of others make you any smarter or more knowledgeable (in case there's a difference) than a person who hasn't read quite as much as you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I've begun questioning the originality of my own thoughts and responses to things. It's nice to be able to apply the ideas and concepts that I've read in books to real life situations but does it really matter that I can? Am I just repeating what I read? Or have I actually formulate some kind of thoughtful conclusion on my own based on readings that I've don't that will actually help me in some way. Does originality of response have any impact on quality of life? If so, than a well read person really has a shitty life. I've read a lot and a lot of ideas that I have I can trace back to authors and that makes me uncomfortable. I don't know what I could possibly think of on my own. It's really not important to know that, I guess, but what would my response be in a situation where I would normally apply an author's thinking if I had not read it to begin with? What if my idea was more exciting but the fact that I read something that I deemed interesting or agreeable is simply keeping me from that excitement. I guess my question is: How much do we miss because of what we know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one thing we definitely miss out on the excitement of formulating ideas and concepts about life, love, and people because those are the themes of almost every book ever written in one way or another. We miss out on the excitement of creation (God's very own excitement) because we have read something else that applies. In this sense, ignorance is Godly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we do gain from reading is the wording of an idea for us. Perhaps we share the thought with the author but didn't realize it. The author simply words it for us convincingly and professionally. That's great I guess. But whose idea is it? Reading is the lazy man's thought process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more we read, the less we think for ourselves and the more our brains become filled with ideas that didn't originate there.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if that's bad or good or neither. It's just strange. It's especially strange that it's valued. A person is not educated unless they know other people's ideas. What if theirs were good anyway? I wanna hear 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's scary is that our lives become dictated by these ideas and concepts and theories that we read about. They become our personal philosophies. Agreement is not thought and it is never original. I guess what determines originality in this case (it would have to be measured in degrees since there could be no true original) is the ideas that have been selected for agreement. What books have you read? Freedom to choose the thoughts that you acquire is the only venue for originality in a well read person. It's sad because you can't go back to see what it's like without the books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what a person thinks about when they have no real problems. My life's pretty good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1477121415199988488?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1477121415199988488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-reading.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1477121415199988488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1477121415199988488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/well-reading.html' title='Well Reading'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-2311898613528979617</id><published>2008-12-24T00:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T00:44:22.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You gotta turn it all off&lt;br /&gt;And know things differently.&lt;br /&gt;Uh huh. Begot it right.&lt;br /&gt;Sunwise - Otherwise -&lt;br /&gt;Shit's too real.&lt;br /&gt;Starts buzzin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowly-be-about-it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-2311898613528979617?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/2311898613528979617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-gotta-turn-it-all-off-and-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/2311898613528979617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/2311898613528979617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-gotta-turn-it-all-off-and-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-7820975147553572750</id><published>2008-12-23T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T13:53:58.579-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pandastand</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVFdqaHPY6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xT9M7c870AU/s1600-h/pandatree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVFdqaHPY6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xT9M7c870AU/s320/pandatree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283106821027881890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandas do this thing where they do handstands and see which one of them can piss the highest up a tree. The higher they can piss, the more manly of a Panda they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-7820975147553572750?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/7820975147553572750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/pandas-do-this-thing-where-they-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7820975147553572750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7820975147553572750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/pandas-do-this-thing-where-they-do.html' title='Pandastand'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVFdqaHPY6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xT9M7c870AU/s72-c/pandatree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-5358864923824786280</id><published>2008-12-23T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T09:53:20.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flame-Filled Flashes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElfRlIfKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1UGNA_SluI4/s1600-h/runner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElfRlIfKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1UGNA_SluI4/s320/runner.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283045057107623074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElfSTckBI/AAAAAAAAAEM/R-V-FR5SFlU/s1600-h/kimonfire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElfSTckBI/AAAAAAAAAEM/R-V-FR5SFlU/s320/kimonfire.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283045057301876754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEleyBnSDI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MGe_T6BjyhE/s1600-h/glowworms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEleyBnSDI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MGe_T6BjyhE/s320/glowworms.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283045048637147186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-5358864923824786280?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/5358864923824786280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/flame-filled-flashes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5358864923824786280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5358864923824786280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/flame-filled-flashes.html' title='Flame-Filled Flashes'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElfRlIfKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1UGNA_SluI4/s72-c/runner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-3302842126703270817</id><published>2008-12-23T09:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T09:51:17.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Physical Spirituality</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElALasvjI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pvtcOKKyv9A/s1600-h/turtle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElALasvjI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pvtcOKKyv9A/s320/turtle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283044522877304370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEk_w8xlcI/AAAAAAAAAD0/sHNUYCY7TU4/s1600-h/couch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEk_w8xlcI/AAAAAAAAAD0/sHNUYCY7TU4/s320/couch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283044515772470722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEk_mFXlcI/AAAAAAAAADs/J-3zlPm_26Y/s1600-h/bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVEk_mFXlcI/AAAAAAAAADs/J-3zlPm_26Y/s320/bike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283044512855725506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-3302842126703270817?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/3302842126703270817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/physical-spirituality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3302842126703270817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3302842126703270817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/physical-spirituality.html' title='Physical Spirituality'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SVElALasvjI/AAAAAAAAAD8/pvtcOKKyv9A/s72-c/turtle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-3237101599478146144</id><published>2008-12-23T00:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T00:18:58.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Brody</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-aed1a4873e345adf" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daed1a4873e345adf%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331288378%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D85AE3182109F12C654DFC5A2F40447697B384BFD.17C2565F239D88A507A5B338AC8E90A1B1BE14A1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daed1a4873e345adf%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DsAjaVCvnc0LtEbg7sybunV9RBSI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daed1a4873e345adf%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331288378%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D85AE3182109F12C654DFC5A2F40447697B384BFD.17C2565F239D88A507A5B338AC8E90A1B1BE14A1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daed1a4873e345adf%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DsAjaVCvnc0LtEbg7sybunV9RBSI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-3237101599478146144?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=aed1a4873e345adf&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/3237101599478146144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-brody.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3237101599478146144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3237101599478146144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-brody.html' title='This is Brody'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-3640642461683878607</id><published>2008-12-20T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T18:18:04.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MIND-BREAK</title><content type='html'>I recently realized, or at least put into words, that my life is all about being physical and what I thought was distraction. I constantly need to be doing something or moving to be happy. My skateboard has always provided this opportunity for me. When I can't skate for a few days I tend to get anxious and sometimes just down feelin and blue. I used to just assume that it was because I was obsessed with skateboarding. It's not. It's because of what skateboarding does for my mind that I need it daily. It empties my mind. The physical nature of it fills the mind and removes you from what I thought of as life. The physical nature of skateboarding is a distraction from worries, anger, love-worries, stresses, deadlines, anxieties, and the like. It even removes you from the good things in your mind, but of course this is all very temporary as it is only while your skating that your mind is free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things are like this but its not just the physical nature of it that does it. It needs to be spontaneous as well. Walks and bike rides force me into my head even further and it's where a lot of over thinking goes on. Alcohol works well as an expensive substitute as it tends to remove over-thinking tendencies and make a person more about the physical now. You may not remember the night but in a way thats a good sign. It was one hundo percento physical. Alcohol wears you out too quickly though so it's not a good source of this meditative emptiness beside the facct that emptiness is not meditative, it's just a numbness of the mind that intensifies the physical aspects of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's other people around then it's even better. Shared physicality makes the moment even more "now" and it's experienced for what is happening not for what is happening in our heads while its happening. The bodies save their minds while they share each other. I'm not just talking about sex either. A mutually desired hug or kiss is perfect and even a handshake, a conversation (talking's physical, ain't it?), or the holding of a lover or friends hand can bring about the mind-break. It's a nice and necessary vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I realized that I spend my whole life searching for ways to acquire this mind-break and in a sense, escape from life itself for a time, I became kind of depressed. Why is it that my life is all about avoiding itself? What's wrong with me that my life is like some evil thing that I have to hide from? Shouldn't I be embracing life and loving it? What's wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized thought that this mind-break was not an escape from life - it was/is an intensification of a moment within your life. The moment becomes the sole and physical purpose. All that is removed is the memory of past experience and the hopes and anxieties of future ones. The physical and spontaneous nature of the act focuses you into the moment and lets you experience this time in your life more vividly and wonderfully and wholey. It's exciting and it's physical and it makes you feel free. It's a physical meditation and focus that brings you closer to life, it doesn't distract you from it like I thought. My skateboard is my everyday life intensifier. That sounds funny but laughing is good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A perfect day is just a hug and a kiss and a skateboard. Night time might require a bit more but it's as simple as that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-3640642461683878607?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/3640642461683878607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/mind-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3640642461683878607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/3640642461683878607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/mind-break.html' title='MIND-BREAK'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-7901380899510126681</id><published>2008-12-18T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T16:08:15.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUrlGKrL-VI/AAAAAAAAACc/b6IzAguAopc/s1600-h/blender_coffee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUrlGKrL-VI/AAAAAAAAACc/b6IzAguAopc/s200/blender_coffee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281285407152798034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the graphic on the first skateboard I had. My mom got me it from a garage sale and I learned to stand up on it (kid shit yanana). My sister and my neighbor broke it tryin to launch each other into the air. They scotch taped it back together and hoped I wouldn't notice. I did. I miss it. But I love the scotch tape solution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-7901380899510126681?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/7901380899510126681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/coffee-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7901380899510126681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/7901380899510126681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/coffee-break.html' title='Coffee Break'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUrlGKrL-VI/AAAAAAAAACc/b6IzAguAopc/s72-c/blender_coffee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-8428962176379891411</id><published>2008-12-18T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T15:59:34.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9d03e463a4da2830" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D9d03e463a4da2830%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331288378%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D100C349F1C5B7B395EBCCE48943C36FDCCA90E42.16BFDC4500D55D35D9C05EF91344E6FE96E450AB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9d03e463a4da2830%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDKCRCB7iZ78Rnd_M_ApzF8uXA8s&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-8428962176379891411?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=9d03e463a4da2830&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/8428962176379891411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8428962176379891411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8428962176379891411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-it.html' title='This is it.'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-8529598970354847251</id><published>2008-12-16T14:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T14:33:18.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Noggin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgsmEkkfyI/AAAAAAAAACU/pgCk9KGh42U/s1600-h/1013081700a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgsmEkkfyI/AAAAAAAAACU/pgCk9KGh42U/s200/1013081700a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280519595665686306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Comfy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-8529598970354847251?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/8529598970354847251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/noggin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8529598970354847251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8529598970354847251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/noggin.html' title='Noggin'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgsmEkkfyI/AAAAAAAAACU/pgCk9KGh42U/s72-c/1013081700a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-2354303506355778835</id><published>2008-12-16T13:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T13:30:05.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Is it a burrito or a wrap? Context.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-2354303506355778835?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/2354303506355778835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/is-it-burrito-or-wrap-context.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/2354303506355778835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/2354303506355778835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/is-it-burrito-or-wrap-context.html' title=''/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-1664142435965136686</id><published>2008-12-16T13:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T14:28:16.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Immediacy</title><content type='html'>My dad sent me a picture message of a beautiful sunset and he told me he was going to write below it "you should paint this!" but he didn't because he knew my answer would be "why?"&lt;div&gt;He gets me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Painting that beautiful sunset would just be a way to try and claim it for myself. It would be egotistical in a sense. I could never make that sunset as beautiful as it was because a painting of it isn't it. It's as simple as that. I can't preserve that image in paint and I can't make anybody who didn't see it understand it. Nobody can. This has been an issue that's really been frustrating me for a long time. I see it as paintings only inadequacy but if it isn't solved then I can see no reason to paint. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a long time I painted made up figures or strange kinds of faces but, really, how long can you do that for? And why do it? Yeah, it's fun. But I realized that the process of making it was as far as my attachment to it went. I never had a problem giving away a painting and I gave tons away to friends just to make space. Then I saw the Chris Johanson show "totalities."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This show was honest. It was all from recycled wood from dumpsters with nothing of its past being attempted to be hidden. There was not one canvas in the show and there weren't even paintings on the walls. It was refreshing. These were paintings about experiencing life for what it is; not recreating an experience. The honesty spoke loudly about looking at what's there now and feeling a part of it. Be alive in it instead of constantly trying to remember what happened to you while you were trying to remember what happened before that. Remove distraction by being immediate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This solved painting. Chris Johanson solved painting by being as simple as possible. "can you see my totality?" Yes and it's that simple. See what's there and stop wishing. Start loving. Fer reals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, read Hakim Bey's "T.A.Z." It's free online but you can buy it too. I suggest you buy it. It's great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-1664142435965136686?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/1664142435965136686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/immediacy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1664142435965136686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/1664142435965136686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/immediacy.html' title='Immediacy'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-605642051319534668</id><published>2008-12-16T12:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:59:46.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Live, Fast, &lt;div&gt;Die Hungry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-605642051319534668?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/605642051319534668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/live-fast-die-hungry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/605642051319534668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/605642051319534668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/live-fast-die-hungry.html' title=''/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-5145406154119771162</id><published>2008-12-16T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:59:14.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some things have to be said, not red, in order to be understood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-5145406154119771162?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/5145406154119771162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/some-things-have-to-be-said-not-red-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5145406154119771162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/5145406154119771162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/some-things-have-to-be-said-not-red-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323474626050498448.post-8561261804364006510</id><published>2008-12-16T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:45:28.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm at one of my Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgSy-62grI/AAAAAAAAAA0/w746VTeZ3DU/s1600-h/maine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 164px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgSy-62grI/AAAAAAAAAA0/w746VTeZ3DU/s200/maine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280491230184506034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;   This image is not from home.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Home-a-hug is home! Rugs make it that way too.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure where is home now. That's a good thing. I have a lot of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7323474626050498448-8561261804364006510?l=tardoggy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/feeds/8561261804364006510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-at-one-of-my-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8561261804364006510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7323474626050498448/posts/default/8561261804364006510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tardoggy.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-at-one-of-my-home.html' title='I&apos;m at one of my Home'/><author><name>Dan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04654152531670986219</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SU24bfsWQVI/AAAAAAAAACo/7nhEanAZfjI/S220/Photo+83.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s27P-Axrqpw/SUgSy-62grI/AAAAAAAAAA0/w746VTeZ3DU/s72-c/maine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
