<?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-6353531229859015857</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:20:26.633-07:00</updated><category term='TMI'/><category term='Happy Hump Day'/><title type='text'>Stiletto Reflections</title><subtitle type='html'>Hey - even when I trip &amp; fall, I'm still wearing fabulous shoes!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>91</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5276510173280209443</id><published>2009-04-15T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T19:58:21.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Gettin' Cheeky</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SeaerfTNnAI/AAAAAAAAAeM/L4EKuAN5JtE/s1600-h/JeanButt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 360px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SeaerfTNnAI/AAAAAAAAAeM/L4EKuAN5JtE/s400/JeanButt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325118079385836546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SeaemMM64-I/AAAAAAAAAeE/YXuxU39U4ZA/s1600-h/JeanButtBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 360px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SeaemMM64-I/AAAAAAAAAeE/YXuxU39U4ZA/s400/JeanButtBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325117988359824354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Add_Video" title="Add Video" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="addVideo();" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);;ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Add Video" class="gl_video" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5276510173280209443?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5276510173280209443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5276510173280209443' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5276510173280209443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5276510173280209443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/04/hnt-gettin-cheeky.html' title='HNT - Gettin&apos; Cheeky'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SeaerfTNnAI/AAAAAAAAAeM/L4EKuAN5JtE/s72-c/JeanButt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4059261304201824370</id><published>2009-04-08T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T20:19:46.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Window Pain (rare)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/Sd1pIG1ajDI/AAAAAAAAAdk/6i-big6VkAg/s1600-h/WindowPain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/Sd1pIG1ajDI/AAAAAAAAAdk/6i-big6VkAg/s400/WindowPain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322525922616314930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/Sd1o_6ogWTI/AAAAAAAAAdc/FM8T86Zc_Oc/s1600-h/WindowPain2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/Sd1o_6ogWTI/AAAAAAAAAdc/FM8T86Zc_Oc/s400/WindowPain2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322525781901990194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4059261304201824370?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4059261304201824370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4059261304201824370' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4059261304201824370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4059261304201824370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/04/hnt-window-pain-rare.html' title='HNT - Window Pain (rare)'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/Sd1pIG1ajDI/AAAAAAAAAdk/6i-big6VkAg/s72-c/WindowPain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6168112937806704765</id><published>2009-03-25T19:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T21:49:06.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - *SIGH*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScrvXIr3eeI/AAAAAAAAAdM/1r9kuk-2_TM/s1600-h/oldie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 288px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScrvXIr3eeI/AAAAAAAAAdM/1r9kuk-2_TM/s320/oldie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317325490811795938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6168112937806704765?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6168112937806704765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6168112937806704765' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6168112937806704765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6168112937806704765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/03/hnt-waiting.html' title='HNT - *SIGH*'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScrvXIr3eeI/AAAAAAAAAdM/1r9kuk-2_TM/s72-c/oldie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6540837620883005066</id><published>2009-03-19T06:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T06:46:55.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Lucious</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScJMs6aN0GI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5uRkD42J1Zw/s1600-h/belly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScJMs6aN0GI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5uRkD42J1Zw/s320/belly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314894844727775330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6540837620883005066?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6540837620883005066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6540837620883005066' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6540837620883005066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6540837620883005066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/03/hnt-lucious.html' title='HNT - Lucious'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/ScJMs6aN0GI/AAAAAAAAAdE/5uRkD42J1Zw/s72-c/belly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5727735149973276835</id><published>2009-03-09T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T05:41:24.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://msp269.photobucket.com/albums/jj69/Liekkio/hungover128589820819822136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 391px;" src="http://msp269.photobucket.com/albums/jj69/Liekkio/hungover128589820819822136.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.all4humor.com/images/files/Hung%20Over%20Cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 600px;" src="http://www.all4humor.com/images/files/Hung%20Over%20Cat.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/funny-pictures-hungover-orange-cat-street.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 699px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/funny-pictures-hungover-orange-cat-street.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sylvainbouchard.com/wpblog/wp-content/hungover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 338px;" src="http://www.sylvainbouchard.com/wpblog/wp-content/hungover.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5727735149973276835?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5727735149973276835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5727735149973276835' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5727735149973276835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5727735149973276835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/03/mute-monday-hell.html' title='Mute Monday - Hell'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4896424140015219137</id><published>2009-02-25T12:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T06:34:54.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - CA taxed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm feeling trapped...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SaWqDgviuuI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Fb5-ufPLais/s1600-h/Polka5tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SaWqDgviuuI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Fb5-ufPLais/s320/Polka5tiny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306834713231669986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and dejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SaWqAc1oHqI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Vb4v0aV0rTA/s1600-h/Polka7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SaWqAc1oHqI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Vb4v0aV0rTA/s320/Polka7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306834660643839650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4896424140015219137?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4896424140015219137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4896424140015219137' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4896424140015219137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4896424140015219137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/hnt-ca-taxed.html' title='HNT - CA taxed'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SaWqDgviuuI/AAAAAAAAAc0/Fb5-ufPLais/s72-c/Polka5tiny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8642825234536783446</id><published>2009-02-19T06:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T06:09:07.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Getting behind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZ1npZykgWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/4oi4CWwYBow/s1600-h/flirty3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZ1npZykgWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/4oi4CWwYBow/s320/flirty3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304509897107603810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jeez - it's been awhile since I wrote.  I suck.  And I need to go visit all my commentors too.  How rude of me :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8642825234536783446?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8642825234536783446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8642825234536783446' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8642825234536783446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8642825234536783446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/hnt-getting-behind.html' title='HNT - Getting behind'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZ1npZykgWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/4oi4CWwYBow/s72-c/flirty3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-698543025766123782</id><published>2009-02-12T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T06:22:26.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Lazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZQwJSOMq8I/AAAAAAAAAcM/iYifKcfvN7U/s1600-h/bluebow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZQwJSOMq8I/AAAAAAAAAcM/iYifKcfvN7U/s320/bluebow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301915597390261186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-698543025766123782?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/698543025766123782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=698543025766123782' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/698543025766123782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/698543025766123782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/hnt-lazy.html' title='HNT - Lazy'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SZQwJSOMq8I/AAAAAAAAAcM/iYifKcfvN7U/s72-c/bluebow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-3807556292112922964</id><published>2009-02-10T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:04:56.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blabberings</title><content type='html'>Gosh - I think I am only at 80 or so of my 101 Things to Do in 1001 Days.  It's hard!  But I gotta finish it up so that I can post it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike is out of town until Saturday pm.  On his way home, he has to pick up Idaho friend from the Ontario airport at 8:45pm.  So I will be a single girl on VDay.  Which is fine - we usually don't go anywhere because it is sooooo crowded &amp;amp; service sucks &amp;amp; shit like that.  But it would have been nice to at least spend the day/evening with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's out of town making some money so it's all good with me ;)  Except sticking me with being alone with mom for 5 fucking days.  But let's not go there quite yet - I'm in denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always have these fabulous things to say but when I get on here, my mind blanks out.  It apparently does not want me to divulge my secrets to you all!  Teehee.  Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in Vegas March 3-5th at the PMA Convention with the bossies.  It was a hard decision to make considering it is for work with the bosses, but really - free airfare, free hotel, free food AND I get paid my normal daily wages?  How could I not?  When my bosses want me to be interested in something, damn your smiling vajayjay, I will be.  I've been to lots of photog conventions with them &amp;amp; I'm glad they think I am still important enough to go, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's that.  Ummm...what else.  Shit, man, I really need to get back into blogging.  I've lost my touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, stupid brain.  You win &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-3807556292112922964?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/3807556292112922964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=3807556292112922964' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3807556292112922964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3807556292112922964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/blabberings.html' title='Blabberings'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5745716509840067638</id><published>2009-02-08T16:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:29:13.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93c22UDxI/AAAAAAAAAcE/lrnpX-vnLzE/s1600-h/eve%2Bmendes4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93c22UDxI/AAAAAAAAAcE/lrnpX-vnLzE/s320/eve%2Bmendes4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586624081727250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93XLOexfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rEG5d-uVEaI/s1600-h/eve%2Bmendes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93XLOexfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rEG5d-uVEaI/s320/eve%2Bmendes1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586526472586738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93T7b-IXI/AAAAAAAAAb0/yx7OnP1homM/s1600-h/eva%2Bmendes5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93T7b-IXI/AAAAAAAAAb0/yx7OnP1homM/s320/eva%2Bmendes5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586470694592882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93OQPfOnI/AAAAAAAAAbs/o8YsEBQpC6g/s1600-h/eva%2Bmendes3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93OQPfOnI/AAAAAAAAAbs/o8YsEBQpC6g/s320/eva%2Bmendes3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586373200165490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93IkyJH0I/AAAAAAAAAbk/-scqRvkdcu4/s1600-h/eva%2Bmendes2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93IkyJH0I/AAAAAAAAAbk/-scqRvkdcu4/s320/eva%2Bmendes2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586275635011394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93CA7_d4I/AAAAAAAAAbc/ViYfL3GPRMQ/s1600-h/carmen-electra5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93CA7_d4I/AAAAAAAAAbc/ViYfL3GPRMQ/s320/carmen-electra5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586162933430146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY92-uLL7lI/AAAAAAAAAbU/S2bKfMOLOPQ/s1600-h/carmen_electra4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY92-uLL7lI/AAAAAAAAAbU/S2bKfMOLOPQ/s320/carmen_electra4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586106357280338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY926aUVmFI/AAAAAAAAAbM/ukS65grGcCA/s1600-h/carmen_electra2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY926aUVmFI/AAAAAAAAAbM/ukS65grGcCA/s320/carmen_electra2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586032307476562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY920S41Y6I/AAAAAAAAAbE/1ahDZVLz8Uc/s1600-h/carmen_electra1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY920S41Y6I/AAAAAAAAAbE/1ahDZVLz8Uc/s320/carmen_electra1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300585927233856418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Suffice to say I definitely have a 'type', huh?  LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5745716509840067638?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5745716509840067638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5745716509840067638' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5745716509840067638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5745716509840067638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/mute-monday-addiction.html' title='Mute Monday - Addiction'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SY93c22UDxI/AAAAAAAAAcE/lrnpX-vnLzE/s72-c/eve%2Bmendes4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4476621583373810290</id><published>2009-02-05T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T06:39:42.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Etched Mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYr3GURSs9I/AAAAAAAAAa8/lVI8JeL8Q6M/s1600-h/paint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYr3GURSs9I/AAAAAAAAAa8/lVI8JeL8Q6M/s320/paint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299319599447323602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4476621583373810290?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4476621583373810290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4476621583373810290' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4476621583373810290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4476621583373810290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/hnt-etched-mirror.html' title='HNT - Etched Mirror'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYr3GURSs9I/AAAAAAAAAa8/lVI8JeL8Q6M/s72-c/paint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6496328576347916246</id><published>2009-02-01T20:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T20:20:12.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Creatures!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZ0Svv1fhI/AAAAAAAAAa0/vMU6xnlTsw4/s1600-h/creature.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZ0Svv1fhI/AAAAAAAAAa0/vMU6xnlTsw4/s320/creature.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298049877051538962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZ0MsSLyOI/AAAAAAAAAas/ymLOeaON9kk/s1600-h/Creature1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZ0MsSLyOI/AAAAAAAAAas/ymLOeaON9kk/s320/Creature1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298049773042649314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZyljvYgOI/AAAAAAAAAak/5PWb1MKEQ_I/s1600-h/rob_sheridan300x250b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZyljvYgOI/AAAAAAAAAak/5PWb1MKEQ_I/s320/rob_sheridan300x250b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298048001222672610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZyeNilO9I/AAAAAAAAAac/3TrKm2B6_Tk/s1600-h/creatures.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZyeNilO9I/AAAAAAAAAac/3TrKm2B6_Tk/s320/creatures.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298047875004316626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(I&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; love&lt;/span&gt; creature art.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6496328576347916246?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6496328576347916246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6496328576347916246' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6496328576347916246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6496328576347916246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/mute-monday-creatures.html' title='Mute Monday - Creatures!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYZ0Svv1fhI/AAAAAAAAAa0/vMU6xnlTsw4/s72-c/creature.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4342712991801059725</id><published>2009-01-28T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T06:15:58.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Dixie chick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYDuZPYUY1I/AAAAAAAAAaU/jlnUqjqzGQ0/s1600-h/Ging1S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296495279180374866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYDuZPYUY1I/AAAAAAAAAaU/jlnUqjqzGQ0/s320/Ging1S.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4342712991801059725?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4342712991801059725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4342712991801059725' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4342712991801059725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4342712991801059725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/hnt-dixie-chick.html' title='HNT - Dixie chick'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SYDuZPYUY1I/AAAAAAAAAaU/jlnUqjqzGQ0/s72-c/Ging1S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1935356465746984523</id><published>2009-01-27T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T08:37:58.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What was the last movie you saw in a theater?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can't even remember it was so long ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. What is your favorite movie theater snack?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Junior Mints and a soda.  And popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. Have you ever snuck in 'outside' food into a theater?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;My mom did when we were little.  I even saw a lady handing out sandwiches to her family once, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. Have you ever made out in a theater? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5. What is the 'farthest' you have gone in a theater?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When I was a teenager &amp;amp; didn't care about consequences, we did it behind the curtains towards the exit area at the bottom.  Not sure if theatres are still set up that way.  I think I did it more to say that I did rather than get excited about it.  Or it could have been the lame-o dude.  ;P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Bonus (as in optional): What is one of your favorite movie sex scene?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I don't have one, Ithink.  Or too many that one doesn't stick out in my mind.  Sorry.  I'm crampy and sex is the farthest thing from my mind, lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1935356465746984523?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1935356465746984523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1935356465746984523' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1935356465746984523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1935356465746984523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/tmi-tuesday.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-3597399368315343529</id><published>2009-01-24T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T10:34:46.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday 9 Meme:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://samanthasaturday9.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-cooking.html"&gt;Saturday 9: What's Cooking?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Which meal is the one you cook best?&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; I get the most comments on my chili, my southwestern turkey burgers and my chili rellano casserole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Tell us what you would never eat. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Seafood - *gags*  or bugs.  I'd die in the wilderness, I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Is your hometown famous for anything or anybody? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Probably - but I'm too lazy to look it up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Can you play a musical instrument? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sure, the skinflute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Tell us about your second ever lover. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;He was a hot surfer boy.  And fucked up in the head as all get out.  Pyscho shit, man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite restaurant? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I love eating out.  I *covet* the Red Robin's french onion soup.  But as far as a resaurant alone, I can't pick just one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If it were your call, how often would you make love? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Depends on what mood I'm in!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What famous person would you like to have dinner with? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Carmen Electra or Pink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Tell us about your job. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yeah. No.  It's what I try to &lt;em&gt;forget&lt;/em&gt; about on the weekends, thankyouverymuch ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Doing better today.  Still hard (see last post if you are confused) but have lots planned today so it is helping.  I know I will tear up, but I'm going to try not to flat out cry today.  Thanks for all your well wishes - IRL &amp;amp; on here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-3597399368315343529?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/3597399368315343529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=3597399368315343529' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3597399368315343529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3597399368315343529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/saturday-9-meme.html' title='Saturday 9 Meme:'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5312774659020873346</id><published>2009-01-23T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T13:02:01.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP Pretty Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXowMo7mxSI/AAAAAAAAAaE/9JeTHoM42c8/s1600-h/tejahbaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294597305631425826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXowMo7mxSI/AAAAAAAAAaE/9JeTHoM42c8/s320/tejahbaby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXowIYnb2GI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/fmgzKy0o8r4/s1600-h/TejahGrass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294597232532379746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXowIYnb2GI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/fmgzKy0o8r4/s320/TejahGrass.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXov-yw0EXI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/oX8orTQYgoc/s1600-h/tejahbaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXou6iPJpfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/BucdUlyX1Ek/s1600-h/DSC00534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294595895085082098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXou6iPJpfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/BucdUlyX1Ek/s320/DSC00534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jan 98 - Jan 09&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tejah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(below as told to Vixen)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So. That sucked. Mike was supposed to go with us, but he got stuck in a meeting so I went to the vet alone. She felt something up in her upper stomach area but couldn't be positive it wasn't just food. Yeah, well. I know my luck and just knew. I knew it was more than just her hips/back before Xmas. So when she said that...I just knew but was still hopeful bc she said arthritis can be just as painful in an old dog. I was there for 2 1/2 hours waiting for everything to happen. The thing of it tho was that with Mike going, it would be 'over' in one trip. Well, she came in with the Xrays and pointed out the tumor. Size of about 2 tennis balls. Really big pushing on her other organs and 'bleeding'. The vet said the cylce was that she'd chase the ball or something like that &amp;amp; it would bleed out &amp;amp; be really painful. Then as she rested (which was when she was feeling super bad) her body would...fuck. The word escapes me - soak the blood back into her system. Then she'd feel better. But it was so big that we needed to do something ASAP. Put her down or Sx and she said the Sx just wouldn't be worth it. That she's old and you have to factor in the whole 'suriving the surgery' to 'quality of life afterwards' &amp;amp; that she'd never be her old self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fine until she waited for a decision and I went to explain, "My husband was supposed to be here" and I started crying. She was so nice tho. She's the first vet that like...understood. Know what I mean? She hugged me &amp;amp; said she was sorry. I said I'd take her home &amp;amp; then we'd come back tomorrow. She made it clear that Tejah wasn't to play ball or anything, that the threat of it bursting and her bleeding to death internally was high. So, of course, besides crying on the way to the vet, I really balled coming home. Mike was there and I walked in crying. When he found out she had a tumor, he sorta asked why I just didn't 'do it'. Hello - I told him I couldn't do that alone! So, she was feeling bad again - probably from all the getting in &amp;amp; out of the car etc etc and he just said we needed to do this. He was fine until he *really* accepted it. Then he was crying &amp;amp; crying &amp;amp; sobbing - which, of course, made me cry 10x worse!!! He laid next to her &amp;amp; just petted her &amp;amp; cried &amp;amp; talked to her. It was so sad :( :( He did that for a good hour and then I said that the worse was yet to come. He realized what I meant and he totally choked and said he couldn't do it. He couldn't watch her die. I said I was NOT letting her die alone with strangers. That she deserved to be not scared. He just cried more &amp;amp; more. He then called the vet's to see when the latest we could do it was, bc at this point, it meant her being in pain a whole other day and us having to go thru *this* all over again the next day (which would have been today). The vet said she would do it at 6pm (they close at 7pm) so we headed out &amp;amp; showed up. Both crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were sooo nice tho. Had a blanket out for her and we called her over &amp;amp; she came. Layed down when we told her to. The vet &amp;amp; asst were so sweet to her and we held her head &amp;amp; petted/loved her while it went thru her. She started getting sleepy &amp;amp; we just told her good girl &amp;amp; ok (which we always said to her when was scared &amp;amp; to relax her). It was very fast &amp;amp; peaceful. They let us alone with her while we cried &amp;amp; hugged and petted her for the last times. Then I had to go. I couldn't see her dead anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would do it again, over &amp;amp; over. Mike was VERY thankful I made him go (he didn't put up a fight once I told him he would regret it). But the thing with me is that *that* is what I will remember. An orange blanket will always remind me of Tejah dying. Always. I want to visualize the fun times and *this* is what will be stuck in my memory for a very long time. *That* is the only reason I don't want to be with my animals when they get put down. But I always WILL. For them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah - after hours &amp;amp; hours crying yesterday afternoon, to at the vets, to all night last night &amp;amp; this morning/today - our eyes look like marshmellows &amp;amp; feel like they were rolled in sandpaper &amp;amp; stuck back in the sockets. I probably look like I was punched or something. It's just so weird...how much she was a part of our every day life. The midgets do not make dog noise, I now realize. The big dog click-clicks on the wood floors, the collar tags, the noise and presence of a big dog. It's too...quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head hurts, my nose hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts and my heart hurts. I feel incomplete. I woke up this morning to her bark. Obviously a dream, but it startled me awake like it was real. And when I came home today, (I had stopped by Del Taco) and gave the midgets a french fry, I called out to her to come get one. And stared at my pile of fries when I had realized what I had done and, of course, busted out sobbing. Fuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to just stay with the little dogs for now. For a few years for Abbie to mature &amp;amp; not be such a pain in the ass. I'm in no hurry. Tejah isn't replaceable but I can't see us NOT getting another bigger breed ever. I mean, I can see us sooner than he can. She is that one in a lifetime dog for a family. That one that the old couple is sitting on the porch going "Remember when Tejah..." etc etc. She was just an AWESOME animal. I don't think we'll have another...but I hope we get close. Mike is really torn up. Remember that he didn't grow up with animals. This is his FIRST that he truly loved like you &amp;amp; I do the animals. So he is really hurt. I expected him to keep it in somewhat like he always does with sorrow or sad things, but I'm really glad he is being open. IDthink he can help it, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that saying, "A heart that hurts is a heart that works." Yeah - mine's in over time right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXouQIMPAzI/AAAAAAAAAZc/L2SC9n6l04k/s1600-h/77.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5312774659020873346?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5312774659020873346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5312774659020873346' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5312774659020873346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5312774659020873346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/rip-pretty-girl.html' title='RIP Pretty Girl'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXowMo7mxSI/AAAAAAAAAaE/9JeTHoM42c8/s72-c/tejahbaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4498131768969886216</id><published>2009-01-22T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T06:47:25.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Jeanerous Ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXiG0U0bByI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wQO8tMzJuI0/s1600-h/BackButtBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294129595473921826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXiG0U0bByI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wQO8tMzJuI0/s320/BackButtBW.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXiGsmLu4pI/AAAAAAAAAYE/rsSCZyV-FMg/s1600-h/BWcandy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img class="gl_video" alt="Add Video" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4498131768969886216?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4498131768969886216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4498131768969886216' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4498131768969886216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4498131768969886216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/hnt-jeanerous-ass.html' title='HNT - Jeanerous Ass'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXiG0U0bByI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wQO8tMzJuI0/s72-c/BackButtBW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7558319137520667499</id><published>2009-01-19T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T18:10:11.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pissing People Off, I'm Sure...</title><content type='html'>I’m going to be very un-PC for a moment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But tell me if I speak any untruths.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I’m not picking on the new President.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m not bitter because he was elected, I’m not mad he will be running our country.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He is a cool dude.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What he can accomplish is yet unseen but I still stand behind him 100%.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t vote, btw, so don’t persecute me as a McCain fan.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;My beef is with the people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Never have I noticed an inauguration as much as this one being pushed by the media.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Never have I seen so many celebrities so into a President.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Never have I heard so much &lt;i style=""&gt;bullshit&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Our first ‘black President’.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s all you hear about.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I wonder.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I truly do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And think about it for a moment.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Would the non-white people stand behind him as much as they are now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Would the non-white people be hooping and hollering as much as they are.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Would the media be all up in the grill about ‘black, black, black”…if our President looked more white?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Because he is only HALF black.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s HALF white too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Which, apparently, the whole Nation has forgotten.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s getting all this extra attention because of his SKIN COLOR – which is what exactly I thought non-white people hated bringing to the front &amp;amp; used!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;It boggles my mind.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I understand if the focus was on how he is not Bush.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How he can do his job.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How he will change this country.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But seriously, if he looked more white, all this shit wouldn’t be over exaggerated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Beyonce wouldn’t be singing for him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stevie Wonder wouldn’t be bobbing his head for him with all the other traffic jam of stars there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m tired of hearing the black card.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s not all black!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If he was – that’d be cool and I’d totally understand and totally agree.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;BUT HE’S NOT.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He’s &lt;i style=""&gt;mixed&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;He’s our first &lt;i style=""&gt;mixed&lt;/i&gt; President.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Get it right.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Geez already.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;In other news that won’t get me hate comments, my dog goes from bad to good.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At first I thought it was her hips, then her spine/back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the more it continues, I think it might be her belly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t afford to get Xrays to see if it is cancer or something like that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today, I gave her a bunch of 100% pumpkin (that shit that comes in a can &amp;amp; the vets give to un-plug critters) to see if it helps.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;something clogged.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ll start there…because the end thing is a trip to the vet with no return ticket.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As much as it kills me, it is worse to see her in so much pain.  (I'm sure someone will hope she dies for my first subject matter.  To you I say - "Fucker!")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;My friend, &lt;a href="http://curiousmindofme.blogspot.com/"&gt;Curious Mind of Me&lt;/a&gt; , made a list of 101 things to do in 1001 days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was neat, intriguing and interesting to see what she put on there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It inspired me to do the same thing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So, as soon as it’s finished, I will put it on the side.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(You’d be surprised how long it takes to come up with 101 things to accomplish in roughly 2.5yrs!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;This Saturday is our first meeting for our book club.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I chose The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night by Mark Haddon &amp;amp; The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, which is being made into a movie!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had no idea when I picked it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz star in it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Comes out this Dec. so I am excited to read it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also can’t wait to eat some yummy appetizers!!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(I love me my side foods!)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m not sure what the boys will be doing while the three of us rack up some girly time, but I don’t care either.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;LOL&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Mike’s work told him that everyone had to stick to 8hr days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This sucks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For all of them, including us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The industry relies on OT.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They get paid good money, don’t get me wrong, but it allows whatever OT you need…or don’t need, but want.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s easy extra money.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So, shit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ve done several things to prepare for it &amp;amp; now we just have to wait to see if it is enough.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If not, *shrugs shoulders* - we’ll have to cross that road if we get there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The economy is fucking up a LOT of our friends right now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re all in the same industry – construction of some sort.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s very sad.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Very sad.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;His boss did tell him that he’d be the last employee to go though, lol.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If it came to that, he would go down with the company.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s encouraging.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t imagine a Goliath as big as his work to go down…but all it takes is…wtf was it, lmfao?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A rock?!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;HAHA – I can’t remember.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;My work, on the other hand, is surviving.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My boss is rich with little overhead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His whole family works there so if it goes, so does his childrens’ jobs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He is sending me to Vegas the first week of Feb to the PMA convention.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That is a huge relief to me – I’m worth spending a fully paid trip on!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wish I could do TMI - but they don't post it the night before.  Ogr at least before *I* go to bed and I don't have time to come up with good answers early in the morning before I leave for work.  But I read everyone else's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just found out one of our friends from Idaho is coming out Mar 25 - Apr 2.  *woot**woot*!!  I'm going to bathe, swim &amp;amp; have sex in Vodka.  Anyone want to join us??!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7558319137520667499?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7558319137520667499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7558319137520667499' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7558319137520667499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7558319137520667499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/pissing-people-off-im-sure.html' title='Pissing People Off, I&apos;m Sure...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7213515522507228969</id><published>2009-01-18T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:51:50.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday 'A'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqrASbkiI/AAAAAAAAAX8/DQzryHV6ikM/s1600-h/anti-IOU.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292832011623043618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqrASbkiI/AAAAAAAAAX8/DQzryHV6ikM/s320/anti-IOU.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqiCpJqoI/AAAAAAAAAXs/UAjc5VcWVuM/s1600-h/anti-olson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292831857636387458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqiCpJqoI/AAAAAAAAAXs/UAjc5VcWVuM/s320/anti-olson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqdMhsJxI/AAAAAAAAAXk/g9ZMY2y5CJU/s1600-h/anti-seafood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292831774390101778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqdMhsJxI/AAAAAAAAAXk/g9ZMY2y5CJU/s320/anti-seafood.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqXVBnsWI/AAAAAAAAAXc/pxjW7nU2-A0/s1600-h/anti-fur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292831673592295778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqXVBnsWI/AAAAAAAAAXc/pxjW7nU2-A0/s320/anti-fur.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqRL5g9qI/AAAAAAAAAXU/cl7YcC0kn8o/s1600-h/anti-crombie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292831568063166114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqRL5g9qI/AAAAAAAAAXU/cl7YcC0kn8o/s320/anti-crombie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqMU6SS8I/AAAAAAAAAXM/gaS7-fkMIEM/s1600-h/anti-asshole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292831484582972354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqMU6SS8I/AAAAAAAAAXM/gaS7-fkMIEM/s320/anti-asshole.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; anti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7213515522507228969?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7213515522507228969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7213515522507228969' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7213515522507228969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7213515522507228969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/mute-monday.html' title='Mute Monday &apos;A&apos;'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SXPqrASbkiI/AAAAAAAAAX8/DQzryHV6ikM/s72-c/anti-IOU.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7822899058275215738</id><published>2009-01-15T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T06:19:26.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Touch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SW9F4KbcVCI/AAAAAAAAAXE/7Q8ZC4r8Jzs/s1600-h/Sweet+Touch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SW9F4KbcVCI/AAAAAAAAAXE/7Q8ZC4r8Jzs/s320/Sweet+Touch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291524918358070306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7822899058275215738?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7822899058275215738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7822899058275215738' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7822899058275215738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7822899058275215738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/sweet-touch.html' title='Sweet Touch'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SW9F4KbcVCI/AAAAAAAAAXE/7Q8ZC4r8Jzs/s72-c/Sweet+Touch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8832193583196692519</id><published>2009-01-08T03:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:15:57.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soak my panties in turpentine so the ants don't eat my candy ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVuUVDK1w4I/AAAAAAAAAW8/7ErnIOZwMAM/s1600-h/CandyAss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVuUVDK1w4I/AAAAAAAAAW8/7ErnIOZwMAM/s320/CandyAss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285981676998345602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More of this series to cum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8832193583196692519?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8832193583196692519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8832193583196692519' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8832193583196692519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8832193583196692519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/soak-my-panties-in-turpentine-so-ants.html' title='Soak my panties in turpentine so the ants don&apos;t eat my candy ass'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVuUVDK1w4I/AAAAAAAAAW8/7ErnIOZwMAM/s72-c/CandyAss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2490016771040346274</id><published>2009-01-05T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T13:57:41.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My brain has a St. Bernard on it</title><content type='html'>I'm about to pop some Advil and then do...nothing.  I guess, lol.  I was planning on working longer, but our server host's hard-drive decided to commit suicide.  And now it's dead.  Boss man is not a happy camper.  They've been having intermittent problems with it and should have thought that it was a hard-drive going out.   But they didn't do any research and now it is D.E.A.D. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customers can't see our website, can't place orders which means we can't download orders and process them.  Which, at this point, means no work for us.  I prepped what I could for the Spring 09 season but am at a stand still until other employees do their jobs.  I sat around for 4hrs and then couldn't stand it anymore.  Off I tanned and then came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike and I are downsizing...our life, where we can, because of the economy.  Now that I won't be working OT...and right now probably not even FT (towards the end of January I should be there) and 2009 is supposed to be worse than 2008, we're cutting whatever corners we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No golfing or fishing, no more Netflix, I froze my tanning account (only $5 a month instead of $19.99.  If I canceled I would have had to have paid the $80 initiation fee again), we got a different cable plan.  Little things like that that add up without you realizing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And back to the gym we go too.  My busy season fucks everything up and then Mike ends up getting lazy because I'm not being a gym partner, lol.  Then we start eating fast-food because it's just easier with my hours.  No more!!  I'm feeling better just&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; knowing&lt;/span&gt; my schedule is going to get back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck, my head hurts.  Wonder what's up with that.  It's like a hangover headache.  Bleah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few girlfriends and I are going to start our own bookclub.  I've picked my books - The Lovely Bones by alice sebold, The Gargoyle by andrew davidson and then I can't decide between The Host by stephanie meyer (the Twilight series author) or The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night by mark hadden.   Ho-hum.  I wonder what 3 books they each picked for us to read.  I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adore&lt;/span&gt; reading.  I grew up reading book after book after book while my brother and friends watched TV or played sports.  When I read, it's like a movie going on in my head.  The Twilight Series seriously rocked, btw.  But i LOATHE the actor they used to play Edward.  My dog's ass looks better than that guy.  Ewwwww...teehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to pound my head into the counter a few times.  Toodles!&lt;br /&gt;(I'll start Mute Monday back up after the alphabet.  Kinda pointless to only do the last 4 letters, lol)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2490016771040346274?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2490016771040346274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2490016771040346274' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2490016771040346274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2490016771040346274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-brain-has-st-bernard-on-it.html' title='My brain has a St. Bernard on it'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4173386514917380449</id><published>2009-01-02T12:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T12:53:50.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take my uterus, please</title><content type='html'>Well, Christmas is officially over.  My house is back to normal.  I almost didn't put anything up this year but trudged through it.  I'm even more convinced I won't do it next year.  It's just such a pain in the ass to take your normal house stuff down, unbox the Xmas stuff and put up, put your normal stuff in the boxes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more of a pain in the ass to take it all down &amp;amp; put your normal stuff back up.  It's like moving, I swear.  So, I think I might just put up the tree next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost done with my chores.  I woke up with my cramps still so I wasn't sure how far I'd get but I downed some pills and pushed my lazy ass to get shit done.  Only have the laundry to finish, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year's Eve was so much fun.  We went over to a friend's house and stayed there.  I have pix,  but lost my downloading adapter so I have to wait until my memory card reader comes in.  Grrrrr...  But we had a blast and we went somewhere else for a change!  That was super nice!  Both Mike and I paid for it yesterday though.  That wasn't so nice.  Getting old sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should go shower and get all non-trashy.  It&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; is&lt;/span&gt; 1pm.  LOL  And time to take more pills too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4173386514917380449?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4173386514917380449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4173386514917380449' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4173386514917380449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4173386514917380449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/01/take-my-uterus-please.html' title='Take my uterus, please'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6765050640541997029</id><published>2008-12-31T07:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T07:40:30.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I walked on dead stars, dude!</title><content type='html'>So...after a last minute decision, yesterday I went to Hollywood with my step-sister, her 17yo daughter (whose birthday it was and this is where she wanted to go) and four of her friends.  Very interesting day.  Oh where shall I begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Supposed to pick me up at 10am but I knew that wasn't happening - 6 females on time?  HA!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finally show up at 10:45 and we're off for our 2hr drive.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Follow SS's (step-sister) husband's directions and at the first freeway transfer, we're both frowning.  This doesn't seem right - we should be heading&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; away&lt;/span&gt; from the mountains.  But he's a man and knows his shit...right?  So SS still calls him tho and is repeating his written directions - 60&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; east&lt;/span&gt;?  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;East&lt;/span&gt;, right?  Yes - east damn it!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We go &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;east&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Until we know he told us fucking wrong.  We're in Barstow for fuck's sake - an hour away from our freeway transfer.  Get off freeway and she calls him again saying we're in Barstow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Barstow? WTF are you guys doing in Barstow?"  "YOU FUCKING TOLD US EAST DIPSHIT!"  "Oh, I meant west."  I literally see SS implode...then explode.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;- side note.  This is where I am assured again and again that MY obessesive double checking of other people's words is the way to live.  I NEVER trust people - in anything.  In a fact they are telling me, in directions...in anything.  I'm always double checking their shit.  Even tho Mike is a trucker and knows routes like the back of his hand, I still would have went on the internet myself and looked his shit up.  People make mistakes and I make sure I'm not following one, lol.  SS's husband is a pencil pusher - why she even took his word as stone is beyond me.  She kept repeating that too - WHY didn't I look it up for myself, he always does this shit to me.  LOL  Why, indeed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We turn around and go back an hour to our freeway transfer and finally head in the right direction.  After all the boys via text message are giving us shit - only a truck full of women would keep heading towards the mountains when their destination is the beach.  Repeated texts returned of Fuck Off and Die Assholes are sent.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get stuck in traffic most of the rest of the way down now and LA traffic SUCKS SUCKS SUCKS.  We're starving, we're cranky, we're tired of sitting in the Tahoe for 4hrs now.  But we finally get there and find a parking garage.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That is far away from where we want to be.  SS is a trooper tho and after walking past several hookers and homeless people, we end up where the tourists are supposed to be, lol.  I'm sure this is NOT what 5 teenagers were expecting Hollywood to be like.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Welcome to the fucking real world, Princesses!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The birthday Princess is wanting Mexican food.  You know what - just pick a place that we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;see&lt;/span&gt; and be happy with it.  Ugh - spoiled children &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; piss me the fuck off.  She's lucky as we see one at the last minute.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We eat lunch and birthday Princess is not happy.  This wasn't what it was supposed to be like and somehow, she really expects mommy to pull out a magic wand and make it so.  She's rude &amp;amp; pouty the rest of the day and, at this point, I think we are there for SS more than the Princess.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It was cool to walk on all the stars tho.  I got my pic with Kermit the Frog one and then Absolut Vodka "had one" and SS and I bent down and got our pic taken with that one. LOL&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The girls got their pix taken with several of the impersonators (that all work for tips) and other ones came up to talk to me and Michelle...cuz we're hot like that.  *snort*  Elmo wouldn't leave us alone and talked to us for quite awhile.  He was funny.  I mentioned to SS how that would be, that you meet this big black man somewhere and ask what he does for a living and he responds, "I'm Elmo, baby!"  LMFAO&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave the garage around 5:30 and can't go the way we come in so we're instantly loss getting back to the freeway.  Now we're driving in the parts of LA that 7 white females shouldn't be in.   LOL  We ask some one on the sidewalk how to get back to the freeway and we are way out of the way but head back in the direction of a street he says (&amp;amp; we saw earlier).  SS calls dipshit again and he's no help so once we get to that street, we ask another local...and finally we're homefree.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For like 10 seconds because what is worse than LA lunch traffic???  LA evening-going-home-from-work traffic.  Oh yeah.  Bumper to bumper.  Teenagers are cranky, Birthday Princess is bitchy and un-thankful, SS is done already too.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And here's me thinking - wtf did you make her stay there?  As soon as my kid started complaining in the backseat on the way there, I would have asked her if she wanted to keep going or if there was somewhere else we could go instead?  As soon as we got there, she didn't want to be there but SS made us all stay.  It was annoying and then especially when SS was grumpy on the way home, I really wondered wtf the point was???&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When they dropped me off, Mike was out in the garage and he asked how it was and SS went on &amp;amp; on about how much fun the girls had.  Is she blind or in denial????!!!!  The girls were miserable.  Birthday Princess wanted to go to Rodeo Drive and shit!! Ugh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So, that was my day yesterday.  Would I do it again - Hell no.  Do I regret it?  Very little.  I got to see a place I never would have otherwise.  I can say I stepped on Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, John Wayne etc etc etc.  (I made sure I grounded my heels on Britney Spears).    I could have done without getting lost walking &amp;amp; driving (which mostly drives me nuts because she didn't plan anything. I am a planner and I would have found directions out of there as well...you know?  And then even for walking around, I would have looked up addresses and stuff.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have to make more chili for the party we're going to tonight.  I'm not sure I have all the ingredients so a trip to the store might be in order.  I actually have quite a few things to do today since my day was wasted yesterday (we got home at 8pm instead of 4pm).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do with my hair either.  I chopped it and hate it.  Really, I do.  Or maybe I'm just not comfortable with it yet.  I feel...insecure.  *SIGH*  I gotta find a way to do it that I can rock it.  That's my problem.  I feel all...goody-two-shoe or nerdy or something.  Gah!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone have  a safe night tonight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Don't puke in public!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6765050640541997029?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6765050640541997029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6765050640541997029' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6765050640541997029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6765050640541997029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-walked-on-dead-stars-dude.html' title='I walked on dead stars, dude!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5975196582358088608</id><published>2008-12-24T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T09:26:54.849-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Early!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwlDtlPCI/AAAAAAAAAW0/v9Dy9qt-K8Y/s1600-h/YGing3T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwlDtlPCI/AAAAAAAAAW0/v9Dy9qt-K8Y/s320/YGing3T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283409094812974114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwfexjTFI/AAAAAAAAAWs/Zac7ru68u9c/s1600-h/YGing4T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwfexjTFI/AAAAAAAAAWs/Zac7ru68u9c/s320/YGing4T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283408998998166610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwYpptcjI/AAAAAAAAAWk/A85I0Dhlfk0/s1600-h/YGing2T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwYpptcjI/AAAAAAAAAWk/A85I0Dhlfk0/s320/YGing2T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283408881658982962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sorry - I won't be around tomorrow or even in a few hours so I need to do this now.  Hope you all have a great holiday!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5975196582358088608?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5975196582358088608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5975196582358088608' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5975196582358088608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5975196582358088608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/hnt-early.html' title='HNT - Early!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SVJwlDtlPCI/AAAAAAAAAW0/v9Dy9qt-K8Y/s72-c/YGing3T.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4729730938512494302</id><published>2008-12-10T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:50:59.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Covered</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SUB_c5Bo3cI/AAAAAAAAAWU/UM7LpN9stig/s1600-h/Drapes72.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SUB_c5Bo3cI/AAAAAAAAAWU/UM7LpN9stig/s400/Drapes72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278358897598979522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I could have made this bigger so that you could actually see my bits &amp;amp; pieces, but what fun would that have been?  *smirk*  :D&lt;br /&gt;(It looks like my furniture is black with turquoise, lol.  It is all super dark chocolate brown.  But I loved the way it came out - I didn't photoshop this at all!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4729730938512494302?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4729730938512494302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4729730938512494302' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4729730938512494302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4729730938512494302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/covered.html' title='Covered'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SUB_c5Bo3cI/AAAAAAAAAWU/UM7LpN9stig/s72-c/Drapes72.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-32570821748776947</id><published>2008-12-03T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:04:26.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Draped In...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/STc2uFhNUUI/AAAAAAAAATg/MyihjMw5tGI/s1600-h/Drapes272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/STc2uFhNUUI/AAAAAAAAATg/MyihjMw5tGI/s400/Drapes272.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275745653871169858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...enter your own word ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-32570821748776947?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/32570821748776947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=32570821748776947' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/32570821748776947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/32570821748776947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/draped-in.html' title='Draped In...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/STc2uFhNUUI/AAAAAAAAATg/MyihjMw5tGI/s72-c/Drapes272.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4027391837880676240</id><published>2008-11-29T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T14:24:26.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in town...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="entrytext"&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's morning.  Early morning, or it was.  I read my faves and now it is, at least, a more respectable hour of 7am.  I am looking forward to when I can get up at 6am for work - it means my body will sleep in on the weekends.  Right now, not happening.  At least I'm not hungover - I thought I would be after Mike making LGBNAF's (Let's get buck naked and fuck).  He can make great drinks out of anything - but they're always stronger than you think they are.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My busy season is almost over.  No more Saturdays at least.  I think next week will still be OT &amp;amp; then it will be back to 8hrs.  This season has just been such shit for so many reasons that won't make a lick of sense to anyone.  I am highly annoyed at something and it may result in me looking for another job.  But in this economy, isn't that scary?  I can't afford to start at the bottom again...maybe a rung or two lower but I have to make a certain amount of money to pay the bills.  *SIGH*  Gives me a headache just thinking and trying to figure it all out so for right now, I am doing nothing &amp;amp; seeing if annoyed situation actually presents itself.  No reason putting the cart before the horse, right?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Mike is spending the morning getting &amp;amp; cutting wood.  Let me rephrase that in Brandie language - Mike is spending the morning wasting $200 on wood.  We live in So Cal &amp;amp; the fireplace is more of a decorative item.  Sure, I enjoy a fire but we don't have $200 extra for fucking wood.  We use the heater, we pay for the heater.  It's not like we're NOT going to use the heater and use the fireplace to heat up the house instead.  Grrrr...can you tell I'm mad about this?  That $200 could (&amp;amp; needed) to go towards Christmas presents, or bills!  Not wood *rolls eyes* but it was something he still did knowing how I felt about it.  He's going to regret tho, he'll see.  And yes, I'm childish enough to then go "I told you so".  /end Mike rant.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Our Thanksgiving was really good.  We declined all the invites and relished being hermits.  Our single/no family out here neighbor (who is actually one of Mike's best friends) came over.  We injected the turkey with jalapeno butter stuff and put it in the rotissere.  OMG that shit was sooo good &amp;amp; juicy!  I made sour cream &amp;amp; garlic mashed potatoes and a green bean casserole.  But not the mushroom soup kind - that stuff looks like an elephant snotted all over it and literally makes me gag.  Try this recipe (even just on a normal dinner night):&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Take casserole dish and soften a brick of cream cheese (or half if you're only feeding a small group.  You want enough to coat the green beans like the normal mushroom recipe).  I just put it in the microwave for a few.  Add about 2-4tbl of butter too (I just slap some in there).  Add your green beans and mix it up.  Add salt &amp;amp; pepper.  Smooth evenly in your dish.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;(Optional is adding grilled onions at this point too - diced or however you want them in the dish.  They add a great flavor!)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Cover with foil &amp;amp; pop in the 350 oven for like 20 minutes or so - you want it to start bubbling so that you know it's nice &amp;amp; hot and melted.  Then pull out.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Uncover and top with mozzarella cheese and then those French's Fried Onions.  Then another layer of the mozzarella cheese and pop it back under the broiler (uncovered) until it starts getting brown.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;To die for, I tell ya.  It's all creamy &amp;amp; cheesy and crispy.  Oh yum!  I think I will have some for lunch, lol.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We took the Christmas decorations down from the garage rafters last night &amp;amp; I think I will start the inside of the house later today while Mike takes care of the outside.  It's a chore tho - I always feel like I'm moving.  Take the year 'round stuff and wrap it up and put it in the boxed that the Xmas decorations came out of.  But it's so pretty to see the inside all snowmaned out.  ;)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I should hop in the shower and start my day.  At least now I know I will be on here more.  Yay for the end of my busy season!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4027391837880676240?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4027391837880676240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4027391837880676240' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4027391837880676240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4027391837880676240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-in-town.html' title='Back in town...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4351063146159341352</id><published>2008-11-07T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T19:02:35.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help or support needed</title><content type='html'>Wow, I can't believe it's been over a month since I've been here.  My life-slash-work is so hectic right now I can barely fart, let alone find time to come here and write.  I need it tho *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, The O'Toole's are family friends.  What isn't said here is that this man killed their last puppy too right in their own backyard.  There just weren't any witnesses.  And I guess his daughter is known for running up to neighbor's houses for safety from him.  I remember them telling us about this crazy man that no one could do anything about because he was some uppity Fire Dude.  I can't believe the poor puppy - she was beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been on the news since last night.  Please go comment and show your support - even fellow fightfighters can't stand him &amp;amp; have placed comments.  If you know me, you know animals are my world and if he did this to any of my animals, I'm quite sure I'd kill him.  Ineed to mention to Heather that she should find out where his past residencies were &amp;amp; see if there were any similar incidences.  The guy's family is in politics and has something to do with a past mayor or something...at this point, I don't have all those facts, but what is known is that sooooo many people have complained about this guy and he still has a job.  Fuck him!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know of anything more we can do?  Or who we can get involved for more coverage???  Anyways, at least go post a comment...we can't let him do this to another animal.  What's next, someone's child?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ktla.com/content_landing_page/?Asst-Fire-Chief-Admits-Beating-Puppy-in-=1&amp;amp;blockID=128134&amp;amp;feedID=171"&gt;http://www.ktla.com/content_landing_page/?Asst-Fire-Chief-Admits-Beating-Puppy-in-=1&amp;amp;blockID=128134&amp;amp;feedID=171&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4351063146159341352?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4351063146159341352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4351063146159341352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4351063146159341352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4351063146159341352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/11/help-or-support-needed.html' title='Help or support needed'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2045383673698602897</id><published>2008-09-25T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T04:39:14.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiss my... ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNt4Ty1MW8I/AAAAAAAAASQ/6PRzMn3YdJc/s1600-h/booty1S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249922072088173506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNt4Ty1MW8I/AAAAAAAAASQ/6PRzMn3YdJc/s320/booty1S.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2045383673698602897?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2045383673698602897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2045383673698602897' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2045383673698602897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2045383673698602897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/09/kiss-my.html' title='Kiss my... ;)'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNt4Ty1MW8I/AAAAAAAAASQ/6PRzMn3YdJc/s72-c/booty1S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-3732503885001738277</id><published>2008-09-17T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T20:14:27.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aye Chihuahua!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNHHbOIR4II/AAAAAAAAASI/Fdmk2cftbEE/s1600-h/AyeChihuahua.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247194311326556290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNHHbOIR4II/AAAAAAAAASI/Fdmk2cftbEE/s320/AyeChihuahua.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNHHUkDSA2I/AAAAAAAAASA/vvgruE7-Hq8/s1600-h/KittyBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-3732503885001738277?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/3732503885001738277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=3732503885001738277' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3732503885001738277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3732503885001738277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/09/aye-chihuahua.html' title='Aye Chihuahua!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SNHHbOIR4II/AAAAAAAAASI/Fdmk2cftbEE/s72-c/AyeChihuahua.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4535330865071376153</id><published>2008-09-11T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T05:09:21.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT-Drillin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SMkKMhtsT7I/AAAAAAAAAR4/ZhD2h6YIMPY/s1600-h/toolsquat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244734451374378930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SMkKMhtsT7I/AAAAAAAAAR4/ZhD2h6YIMPY/s320/toolsquat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4535330865071376153?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4535330865071376153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4535330865071376153' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4535330865071376153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4535330865071376153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/09/hnt-drillin.html' title='HNT-Drillin&apos;'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SMkKMhtsT7I/AAAAAAAAAR4/ZhD2h6YIMPY/s72-c/toolsquat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1155117824806167621</id><published>2008-09-07T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T09:28:37.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True dat!</title><content type='html'>The Bolded are true&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Appearance:&lt;br /&gt;- I am 5'4 or shorter.&lt;br /&gt;- I think I'm ugly.&lt;br /&gt;- I have many scars.&lt;br /&gt;- I tan easily.&lt;br /&gt;- I wish my hair was a different color.&lt;br /&gt;- I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I have a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;- I am self-conscious about my appearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I have/I've had braces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I wear glasses.&lt;/strong&gt; (for night driving)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I'd get/have gotten plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free, scar-free.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been told I'm attractive by a complete stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I have had more than 2 piercings.&lt;br /&gt;- I have had piercings in places besides my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I have freckles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family/Home Life:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;- I've sworn at my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've run away from home.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been kicked out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;- My biological parents are together.&lt;br /&gt;- I have a sibling less than one year old. &lt;br /&gt;- I want to have kids someday.&lt;br /&gt;- I have children.&lt;br /&gt;- I've lost a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarrassment:&lt;br /&gt;- I've slipped out a "LOL" in a spoken conversation.&lt;br /&gt;- Disney movies still make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've snorted while laughing.&lt;br /&gt;- I've laughed so hard I've cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've glued my hand to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've laughed till some kind of beverage came out of my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've had my trousers rip in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Health:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I was born with a disease/impairment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've had stitches.&lt;br /&gt;- I've broken a bone.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had my tonsils removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've sat in a doctor's office with a friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I've had my wisdom teeth removed.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had serious surgery.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had chicken pox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've driven over 200 miles in one day.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been on a plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've been to Canada.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been to Niagara Falls.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been to Japan.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been to Europe.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been to Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Experiences:&lt;br /&gt;- I've been lost in my city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've seen a shooting star.&lt;br /&gt;- I've wished on a shooting star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've seen a meteor shower.&lt;br /&gt;- I've gone out in public in my pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;- I've pushed all the buttons in a lift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've been to a casino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've been skydiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've gone skinny dipping.&lt;br /&gt;- I've played spin the bottle.&lt;br /&gt;- I've crashed a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've been skiing.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been in a play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've met someone in person from the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;- I've caught a snowflake on my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've seen the Northern Lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've sat on a roof top at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've played chicken.&lt;br /&gt;- I've seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.&lt;br /&gt;- I've eaten Sushi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've been snowboarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships:&lt;br /&gt;- I'm single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I'm in a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I'm available.&lt;br /&gt;- I'm engaged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I'm married.&lt;br /&gt;- I've gone on a blind date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've been the dumpee more than the dumper.&lt;br /&gt;- I have a fear of abandonment.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been divorced.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've told someone I loved them when I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've told someone I didn't love them when I did.&lt;br /&gt;- I've kept something from a past relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexuality:&lt;br /&gt;- I've had a crush on someone of the same gender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've kissed a member of the same gender.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had sex with someone of the opposite gender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've had sex with someone of the same gender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've had sex with more than one person at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;- I am a cuddler.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been kissed in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;- I've had sex outdoors.&lt;br /&gt;- I've hugged a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;- I have kissed a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;- I have had sex with a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honesty/Crime:&lt;br /&gt; - I've done something I promised someone else I wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've done something I promised myself I wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I have lied to my parents about where I am.&lt;br /&gt;- I am keeping a secret from the world.&lt;br /&gt;- I've cheated while playing a game.&lt;br /&gt;- I've cheated on a test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've driven through a red light&lt;/strong&gt; (not on purpose)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've witnessed a crime.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been in a fist fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've been arrested.&lt;br /&gt;- I've shoplifted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drugs/Alcohol:&lt;br /&gt;- I've consumed alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I smoke cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I smoke pot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I regularly drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I've taken painkillers when I didn't need them.&lt;br /&gt;- I've taken cough medicine when i wasn't sick.&lt;br /&gt;- I've done hard drugs.&lt;br /&gt;- I've been addicted to an illegal substance.&lt;br /&gt;- I can't swallow pills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I can swallow about 5 pills at a time no problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental health:&lt;br /&gt;- I have been diagnosed with depression.&lt;br /&gt;- I shut others out when I'm depressed.&lt;br /&gt;- I take anti-depressants.&lt;br /&gt;- I have had an eating disorder.&lt;br /&gt;- I've slept an entire day when I didn't need it.&lt;br /&gt;- I've hurt myself on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;- I'm addicted to self harm.&lt;br /&gt;- I've woken up crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I'm afraid of dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I hate funerals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I've seen someone dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I have attempted suicide.&lt;br /&gt;- Someone close to me has attempted suicide.&lt;br /&gt;- Someone close to me has committed suicide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random:&lt;br /&gt;- I can sing well.&lt;br /&gt;- I've stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;- I open up to others too easily.&lt;br /&gt;- I watch the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I don't kill bugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I hate hearing songs that sacrifice meaning for sake of being able to rhyme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I fucking swear regularly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I am a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I paid for my mobile phone ring tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I'm a snob about grammar.&lt;br /&gt;- I am a sports fanatic.&lt;br /&gt;- I play with my hair.&lt;br /&gt;- I have/had "x"s in my screen name.&lt;br /&gt;- I love being neat.&lt;br /&gt;- I love Spam.&lt;br /&gt;- I've copied more than 30 CD's in a day.&lt;br /&gt;- I bake well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I don't know how to shoot a gun.&lt;br /&gt;- I am in love with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.&lt;br /&gt;- I laugh at my own jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I eat fast food weekly.&lt;br /&gt;- I believe in ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I am online 24/7, even as an away message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I can't sleep if there is a spider in the room.&lt;br /&gt;- I am really ticklish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I love white chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;- I bite my nails.&lt;br /&gt;- I play video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I'm good at remembering faces.&lt;br /&gt;- I'm good at remembering names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- I'm good at remembering dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;- My answers are totally honest... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1155117824806167621?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1155117824806167621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1155117824806167621' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1155117824806167621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1155117824806167621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/09/true-dat.html' title='True dat!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6813571204790320763</id><published>2008-09-04T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T05:54:13.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - She's got legs...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SL_aSZRddXI/AAAAAAAAARw/qAPbgJVrTkk/s1600-h/legupColor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242148500839167346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SL_aSZRddXI/AAAAAAAAARw/qAPbgJVrTkk/s320/legupColor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My busy season has started at work.  I'll keep trying to do HNTs, at least :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6813571204790320763?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6813571204790320763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6813571204790320763' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6813571204790320763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6813571204790320763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/09/hnt-shes-got-legs.html' title='HNT - She&apos;s got legs...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SL_aSZRddXI/AAAAAAAAARw/qAPbgJVrTkk/s72-c/legupColor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7252964007581877443</id><published>2008-08-28T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T05:40:21.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Swirly Girly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SLacoHJ7eAI/AAAAAAAAARo/eGTIWhrH8fY/s1600-h/Swirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239547429421545474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SLacoHJ7eAI/AAAAAAAAARo/eGTIWhrH8fY/s320/Swirl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7252964007581877443?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7252964007581877443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7252964007581877443' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7252964007581877443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7252964007581877443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hnt-swirly-girly.html' title='HNT - Swirly Girly'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SLacoHJ7eAI/AAAAAAAAARo/eGTIWhrH8fY/s72-c/Swirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8788799720815066399</id><published>2008-08-26T16:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T16:53:57.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You find a fairy. With a wave of their wand they can change anything for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one thing you would change about your body? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;Saddlebags!!!  Go away, stupid shitheads!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one personality trait you would change? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;I&lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;'d be more 'bubbly'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one thing about your job you would change? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;The way it is either feast or famine - I'd make it normal all year long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one thing about your home you would change? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;Make it bigger so WAM would have her own section.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one thing about your Significant Other you would change? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;More dominate in bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the one person you would poof out of your life and why? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;It depends on my mood &amp;amp; time of my life, lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the one person you would poof back in and why? &lt;span style="color:#ff00ff;"&gt;My grandpas - I miss them.  *Waves up in the air*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8788799720815066399?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8788799720815066399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8788799720815066399' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8788799720815066399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8788799720815066399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/tmi-tuesday_26.html' title='TMI Tuesday!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5909611302396646251</id><published>2008-08-19T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T16:11:05.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Well...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtclfXk7aI/AAAAAAAAARg/OBXZcpdVOlU/s1600-h/blackNailsBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236380790893637026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtclfXk7aI/AAAAAAAAARg/OBXZcpdVOlU/s320/blackNailsBW.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtcecEOELI/AAAAAAAAARY/WrE4smTW20w/s1600-h/blackNails.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236380669748056242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtcecEOELI/AAAAAAAAARY/WrE4smTW20w/s320/blackNails.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man's tests came back ok for his liver, but there's a polyp on his gall bladder...testing next week :)  Yay - he can drink again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtcPFAFiEI/AAAAAAAAARQ/JDvT0ftE5M4/s1600-h/Lacey.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5909611302396646251?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5909611302396646251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5909611302396646251' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5909611302396646251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5909611302396646251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hnt-well.html' title='HNT - Well...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtclfXk7aI/AAAAAAAAARg/OBXZcpdVOlU/s72-c/blackNailsBW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2725678143570806627</id><published>2008-08-19T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:48:09.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtborKvLFI/AAAAAAAAARI/q8RQhZntkcs/s1600-h/sexy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236379746088987730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtborKvLFI/AAAAAAAAARI/q8RQhZntkcs/s320/sexy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Happy Hump Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2725678143570806627?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2725678143570806627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2725678143570806627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2725678143570806627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2725678143570806627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hhd.html' title='HHD'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKtborKvLFI/AAAAAAAAARI/q8RQhZntkcs/s72-c/sexy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1355713607940766708</id><published>2008-08-14T15:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T16:20:40.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The grass is greener where you water it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKS9bKqHJgI/AAAAAAAAARA/n_AQvGqI6rU/s1600-h/c+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234516941326460418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKS9bKqHJgI/AAAAAAAAARA/n_AQvGqI6rU/s320/c+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKS9NAY0mbI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/6h2kdVUIFdg/s1600-h/c+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234516698051418546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKS9NAY0mbI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/6h2kdVUIFdg/s320/c+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little doggy didn't want us to leave to go visit Vixen. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh man, what a week. I had all sorts of plans to do MM, TMI, HHD and Weird Wednesday (to be my first!) and then didn't make the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Monday was my first Monday back from taking Mondays off in July. (That was a lot of Mondays in that sentence!) That same afternoon after work, The Man got a call from his Dr about his blood results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has, for quite some time now, been feeling not so hot. But kept putting it off like most men do. Finally, I pretty much made him go. I was tired of him talking about it. He's never even had his cholesterol #s checked or anything and with his family history, I thought it about time to figure out his health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, his liver enzymes are high. He had to go back the next day &amp;amp; draw more blood for hepatitis tests. He goes in this Saturday for a liver MRI/scan/whatever. We will hopefully find out the hepatitis results tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;And that's not even the cardiologist yet. His family heart history is horrible (grandpa died of a heart attack and all his uncles have had one) so he goes to that consultation visit on the 28th. He works out all the time and has no problem with it so I'm not sure if the stress test will reveal anything, but he complains about shortness of breath just doing normal things. I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - my absence is because The Man is not used to health issues regarding &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;. They are always me so this is throwing him for a loop. I haven't been Mother Henning him to death, but am by his side as a distraction (I remember when I went thru my cancer scare and how freaked out I got even tho I never thought I would react that way. I had pre-cancerous cells removed and that was enough!). To divert his mind when I see him start to ponder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biker Dude stopped by the liquor store to pick him up a liter of Pepsi and a 6-pk of O'Douls, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to go to that bachelorette party tomorrow night but am now skipping it. Originally because of no dinero, but now - even if I did, I'm not sure I would. I think he wants me to go with him and Saturday's appt is at 8am. Bleah! That will still be unpleasant with me waking up sober!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K - if you read this, I'm not sure what he told T, but he hasn't told anyone yet. Not even his parents or my mom. Seeing how T's mom saw my mom last night...could be out of the bag if T mentioned it to anyone else. You know how that works. LOL&lt;br /&gt;In other random news, my boss is out of town so today &amp;amp; tomorrow are lax days. I have some new people starting Monday. The Season hath arrived! I hope they're not idiots. You'd be surprised at what I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ummm...SR...."says the 6'1 late twenties dude as he comes up to me in my office almost an hour late. I just looked up at him. He had just been warned about his tardiness and written up. He was so much &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt;-more than this and we were looking for a legit reason to can his ass. He seemed to hem &amp;amp; haw and I just knew the lamest excuse was going to come out of that worthless smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea ~~~~&gt;"Ummm...I had an &lt;em&gt;accident&lt;/em&gt; on the way to work and had to pull over and, ummm...I don't know how to say this...uummmm...I, uh, had to pull over and throw my &lt;em&gt;shorts&lt;/em&gt; away. *Ahem* And I just got here but had another...ummmm...&lt;em&gt;accident&lt;/em&gt;. I need to go home." All I could say was ok but, inwardly, all I could register was that this grown adult (ha!) had just told me face to face that he shit his pants, not once, but twice. And as we spoke, had a shitload residing between said sorry ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the girl who called me to tell me wouldn't be coming in because she started her period and was 'bleeding all other the place' and while she could maybe try coming in, she doubted I wanted her 'red tide possibly pouring out everywhere.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't people just tell me they have food poisoning (we all know what &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; means) or cramps (again, we all know what &lt;em&gt;that &lt;/em&gt;means) or the flu or a headcold? I don't need to know details. I don't care about details! You're not here, you're not here.&lt;br /&gt;*SIGH*&lt;br /&gt;/end rant &amp;amp; off to start laundry. Oh joy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1355713607940766708?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1355713607940766708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1355713607940766708' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1355713607940766708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1355713607940766708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/grass-is-greener-where-you-water-it.html' title='The grass is greener where you water it.'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKS9bKqHJgI/AAAAAAAAARA/n_AQvGqI6rU/s72-c/c+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1502586267154573407</id><published>2008-08-13T20:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T20:36:05.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Not Made for Walkin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKOnz8Yi4pI/AAAAAAAAAQo/lBs56nHOfck/s1600-h/boots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234211702758892178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKOnz8Yi4pI/AAAAAAAAAQo/lBs56nHOfck/s320/boots.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKOn4KP2SVI/AAAAAAAAAQw/FO8hCMNMgsE/s1600-h/boots2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234211775199988050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKOn4KP2SVI/AAAAAAAAAQw/FO8hCMNMgsE/s320/boots2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1502586267154573407?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1502586267154573407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1502586267154573407' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1502586267154573407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1502586267154573407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hnt-not-made-for-walkin.html' title='HNT - Not Made for Walkin&apos;'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SKOnz8Yi4pI/AAAAAAAAAQo/lBs56nHOfck/s72-c/boots.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2988170256608910224</id><published>2008-08-06T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T20:55:15.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Itty Bitty Teeny Weeny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJjzgIqODJI/AAAAAAAAAQg/mD8X2CWCRN8/s1600-h/suitT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231198700596759698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJjzgIqODJI/AAAAAAAAAQg/mD8X2CWCRN8/s320/suitT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2988170256608910224?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2988170256608910224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2988170256608910224' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2988170256608910224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2988170256608910224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hnt-itty-bitty-teeny-weeny.html' title='HNT - Itty Bitty Teeny Weeny'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJjzgIqODJI/AAAAAAAAAQg/mD8X2CWCRN8/s72-c/suitT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8446398987306441586</id><published>2008-08-05T17:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T18:14:54.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD - I love the things that you aren't.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c26/toni4ball/PinUps%20-%20Sexy%20Art/sexyback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c26/toni4ball/PinUps%20-%20Sexy%20Art/sexyback.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7b/Woman_in_black_thong_bikini_with_tattoo_and_wearing_bracelets_and_wrist_cuff.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hump Day, bitches!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still trying to play catch-up from returning from CO. It's hard when your work drive is so long. Oh well - mama needs new shoes *wink*. OK, well - mama needs to pay bills first so that she can get new shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of long drives, this is when I do most of my thinking. I have nothing else to do so my brain relishes the 'come out &amp;amp; play' time in the late afternoon/early evening. (It's still half asleep in frog pajamas in the morning.) Sometimes, I think about bills or what The Man is doing or how much fun The Man is having while I sit in traffic. Others it is about something exciting coming up or choices I have to decide upon. But its favorite thing to do is just...think. About different perspectives. It makes the brain more active, I think. Like: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Everyone focuses on &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; they love something about someone. How about my title? I love The Man because he's not an asshole (for the most part), he's not a child-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;molester&lt;/span&gt;, he's not a wall-flower, he's not serious. But I like my job because it's not formal dress, it's not minimum wage, it doesn't have to deal with the public. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have you ever thought about ice-skating...on the other side of the ice?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Isn't that a stupid saying about wanting your cake and eating it too? Why &lt;em&gt;else&lt;/em&gt; would you want your cake?!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why can't there be God &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; reincarnation &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; Karma &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; Mother Nature - all at the same time? Like, say you die and you get a choice! Do you want to go to Heaven or do you want come back as a dog or just hang out as a ghost?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We are ALL friendly with the skeletons in our closet whether we acknowledge it or not. The difference is that a few people hold the key, others throw it as far away as possible, and still, some of us never lock the damn thing in the first place.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seriously, &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; aren't you having fun in life? As long as you aren't hurting someone else - what's the point of having the perfect body or hair or skin or digestive tract when it's just going to rot in a coffin anyway? &lt;em&gt;Seriously&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've realized that sometimes you have to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-true to yourself in order to be kind to others. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that. I can step down from my soapbox if it means making someone feel better that needs it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why do people freak out at cuss words? They are just words. Some &lt;em&gt;guy&lt;/em&gt; made them up. I think (insert your higher Being here) cares more about the emotion behind the words. I tell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cerveza&lt;/span&gt; all the time, "I love you, you little fucker!" Am I going to Hell for that? Do I need to repent? I think not. What I think I need to ask forgiveness for is if I said to The Man, "You &lt;em&gt;chair&lt;/em&gt;!" with all the hate in my words. With the intention of hurting his feelings. Think about it. Some dude came up with fucker and deemed it bad and now it's the worse word you can say - just because some &lt;em&gt;person&lt;/em&gt; said so. What gave him the right? NOTHING!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway - my alone time has ran out. Have a great Wednesday, you shitheads. :P&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8446398987306441586?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8446398987306441586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8446398987306441586' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8446398987306441586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8446398987306441586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/hhd-i-love-things-that-you-arent.html' title='HHD - I love the things that you aren&apos;t.'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c26/toni4ball/PinUps%20-%20Sexy%20Art/th_sexyback.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-166907055883961583</id><published>2008-08-05T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T17:38:48.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src=" http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your definition of romantic? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Being selfless in an action towards someone else and focusing on their, &amp;amp; only their, desires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Would you consider yourself to be romantic? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Probably not. I think it, but I never follow thru.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Is your significant other romantic? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sometimes. But I can't complain unless I step it up too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Have you ever chastised a SO for not being romantic enough or too romantic? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;No. I don't want to have to force them to be romantic because then it &lt;em&gt;isn't&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What do you consider a grand romantic gesture? Have you ever been the recipient or giver of one? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;See #1. Something I remember that really caught my heart and I repeat this story all the time is this one time he gave me an anniversary card. It was all poofy, like something was in with the card. When I opened it up, there was a package of my FAVORITE brand of beef jerky that can be hard to find. He really took the time to do something that was ME, instead of using the old stand-by: flowers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If you have done something romantic to get laid, did it work? If not, why and how did that affect your romantic tendencies in the past. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;No, I don't think being romantic is about getting laid. That would make it very &lt;em&gt;un&lt;/em&gt;-romantic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What is the most romantic thing you have ever done? Had done for you? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I can't remember something I di. But see #5 for the other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-166907055883961583?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/166907055883961583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=166907055883961583' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/166907055883961583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/166907055883961583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/tmi-tuesday.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-9085154322710991504</id><published>2008-08-04T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T14:52:22.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Promise</title><content type='html'>So. This is my &lt;em&gt;story&lt;/em&gt; about our time with PC &amp;amp; Vixen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were on our way to baggage claim, we were kidnapped and made to go thru Del Taco and forced to eat yummy food. It was really a traumatic experience, let me tell you! Vixen ripped open the green burrito wrapper and smashed it down my throat yelling, "Eat that, bitch!" and I had to swallow big chunks of food without chewing it properly. This caused my throat to swell and I could hardly talk. I think my larynx is permanently damaged...at least that is what my Dr told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They engaged the childproof system on the rear doors so we couldn't escape, because, believe me - I would have jumped out if I could even with the car going. I've done it before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, they took us to their house and forced us to drink some beers with them. They were treating us nice and all, like family. The kids were all over us and laughing and wanting to hang out with us but then they had to go to bed. PC &amp;amp; Vixen made us stay up really late and then dragged us to the spare room where they threw us, and all of our shit, into and then locked the door! We had no choice but to go to bed. I didn't know whether to cry or not - I was just so confused but decided to snuggle down into the comfy bed and sleep bundled up in blankies, watching TV while I fell asleep. All nice and cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, they banged on the door and demanded for us to come out. Vixen made some breakfast - I think it was like dogfood and chicken feed mixed up, I couldn't tell. Oh wait, I remember now. It was bacon and eggs. I can't tell sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they told us to go to the rehearsal with them. I bet if Vixen could have put a collar around my neck, she would have. She's so mean and told me where to walk and with what guy. I felt really uncomfortable with him too. Because you know that one incident that happened to me while I was in India - do you all remember that? I was really terrified. With my scarred larynx and all, I couldn't call for help so I just did what I was told because I was afraid. I don't think all the other people around us could have helped me. I'm not sure why, but I'm &lt;em&gt;sure&lt;/em&gt; I can come up with something later. I'm good at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, she forced me to pick a room. Even tho I got first dibs, I'm positive it's out of maliciousness, but like I said, I couldn't do anything but what she wanted. So I smiled and laughed and accepted the room she had paid for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we went to dinner. I didn't have a choice to go or not. I mean, there was food in the house and all and I could have stayed home, but they forced me to go and what was I to do!!?? We went and I met a bunch of family. I looked at the menu and found the most expensive food and drink on it and ordered it. What did I care - I wasn't paying for it?! Dinner was awesome &amp;amp; everyone else...wait, what's the word?...thanked (?) PC &amp;amp; Vixen. I'm not sure why though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding day was somewhat the same - me following her around and doing whatever she demanded. She asked me my opinions but still, I had no choice. She paid for everything! The ceremony was filled with all of their friends and I felt like an outcast even tho everyone treated me really nice &amp;amp; friendly. I think they did anyway...I'm not sure yet. Depending on who asks me later, I'll decide which it is. OK? OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - the weekend was fun and all. I had a great time there and they paid for everything and treated us awesomely but I still feel...I dunno. Like we were pets or something. Do you understand what I mean? Don't you think so too? I mean, after reading all that I wrote?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd0TmvsMjI/AAAAAAAAAQI/w1MPmIc33JQ/s1600-h/DSC02987.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230777372381033010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd0TmvsMjI/AAAAAAAAAQI/w1MPmIc33JQ/s320/DSC02987.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Awww...lookee all the little birdies! Reality bites those that lie about it. Obviously, this only makes sense to a few people. It's a little wedding present I promised her. The truth of the matter is that we had an awesome time, like normal people. It was great meeting and hanging out and getting drunk with Os and the rest of their friends. I miss them all already. I can't really post a lot of pix because there are faces of people who did not consent - you will have to see most of them on her site when she puts them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd1soRRVDI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/FMuF39RivXY/s1600-h/wed+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230778901798671410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd1soRRVDI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/FMuF39RivXY/s320/wed+133.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You don't understand how HOT it was when we were trying to do this. The power went off at the B&amp;amp;B earlier and the A/C never had a chance to catch up. I swear it was over 110 in here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd263XzXzI/AAAAAAAAAQY/FIa8nScs1JY/s1600-h/wed+155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230780245882396466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd263XzXzI/AAAAAAAAAQY/FIa8nScs1JY/s320/wed+155.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Man has no shame. Yes, he is 'smackin' dat ass' there. And yes, his shirt is part of the plan. I'm not married to gigolo. I swear! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Toodles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-9085154322710991504?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/9085154322710991504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=9085154322710991504' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9085154322710991504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9085154322710991504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/promise.html' title='Promise'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJd0TmvsMjI/AAAAAAAAAQI/w1MPmIc33JQ/s72-c/DSC02987.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-3538743082916571307</id><published>2008-08-04T08:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:42:05.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Returning...ugh</title><content type='html'>I am downloading all the pictures now, so there will be a separate post with all the pix later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the weekend was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; much fun!!!  We had a such a good time with Vixen &amp;amp; PC (not that I would have expected anything different, but they &lt;em&gt;were&lt;/em&gt; getting married in 2 days!!).  I loved seeing the animals again &amp;amp; meeting all the new ones and certainly, seeing the kids again - and meeting the new ones *snort*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe what a little woman her daughter is.  I love her to death, but I always have even when she was a teeny non-talking baby.  And her son is a cutie pie (although at one point, he stayed in his room awhile because 'he was mad at *insert my name here*' because of something he did that wasn't very nice and I called him on it when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Vix&lt;/span&gt; wasn't around and he didn't like it.  *snort**snort*. It was short lived and he was back to his happy little self in no time.) who just seems to love life :)  I also had the pleasure of meeting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;PC's&lt;/span&gt; son who is equally cute and quite the gentleman with a gentle soul as well.  They were all very well behaved and a treat to be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we brought the heat with us tho.  On Friday, it was 105 and a little muggy.  Just like at home - I didn't feel like I had left So Cal, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ceremony was beautiful.  I can't really say a lot without the pictures so I will save all that until then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, there were some thunderstorms and I remember &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Vix&lt;/span&gt; saying in the past that they shut down the airport when that happens, but was just hoping it wasn't around that area.  We get dropped off at the airport and go sit in our area and see that the plane is delayed 20 minutes.  No big deal.  But then she comes over the loudspeaker that the airport had been shut down due to the weather so all flights in &amp;amp; out were behind schedule &amp;amp; that our plane from AZ wasn't going to be in until 6:30 - putting us an hour &amp;amp; a half behind schedule.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bleah&lt;/span&gt; - but what can you do?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally see the plane come in and people getting off and...end up getting behind another half hour because one of the stewardesses that was supposed to be on with us was on a plane that hadn't came in yet either so they had to hunt around for another one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to have arrived at 7:15pm but didn't land until 8:30.  Go down to wait for our luggage forever and The Man's never comes out.  Fuck.  It has both of our stuff in it, but luckily, just clothes.  So we we head over to the guy and he keys in the luggage number and he sees it has a flag on it.  *Ahem*  It got left behind and they put it on the next flight over that was supposed to land at 11pm.  UGH.  They are going to deliver it today before noon at my cousin's house (they won't deliver to my house - it's in a different county) and I will pick it up tomorrow after work on my way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK.  Got all that?  So, we head to the car and I see this note-looking thing on my car and freak out that someone has hit it.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt; - just an advertisement piece.  Load it all up and head to the gate.  The lady is doesn't acknowledge us.  The Man greets her and she slowly turns around, and in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Quaalude&lt;/span&gt; induced type of state, says "Ah - hello".  *rolls eyes*  The Man hands her a credit card and she asks if we have another one.  Huh?  It's a brand new card with plenty of credit still on it, but whatever.  He hands her the bank card.  Same thing.  Mike looks at her and asks if she's sure her card thing is working because BOTH of those cards have plenty of money.  The whole time she is moving as slow as molasses on a winter day &amp;amp; I'm already feeling bad for the people who are behind us because, really, how long does it usually take to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; the gates??  Less than 2 minutes!  So, she calls the neighboring stall and asks if she can run this credit card because hers doesn't seem to be working and, oh my goodness, it clears!!!  She still takes forever to print it out and hand it over to The Man for his signature.  The Man then says it is NOT our night.  I tell him to keep his mouth shut, we're almost 2hrs from home yet, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - the SHITTY part about the whole night tho???  Let's recap, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flight delayed because of weather&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flight further delayed because of missing flight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;attendant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flying absolutely sober for the first time ever&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Home bound even &lt;em&gt;further&lt;/em&gt; delayed because you're waiting for a piece of fucking luggage &lt;em&gt;that isn't even there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Parking gate attendant is slower than a constipated 4 month old trying to take a shit&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Parking gate attendant's card machine doesn't work&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Paying $90 in parking fees!!!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Priceless!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Holy shit.  Wasn't expecting that one.  That's $22.50 a day people.  *chokes*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;One the way home, we kept finding mosquito bites from the wedding night (we all got eaten alive) and I counted 12 on me.  The Man has about 12 on each knee - they look REALLY distorted, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.  We finally crawled in bed around 11:30.  The Man got up at 4am and went to work.  He gets to leave a little early today tho because of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Drs&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;My day will be spent investigating why a $500 deposit bounced &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;cost&lt;/span&gt; me $12.  Laundry was planned, but all the dirty clothes are in The Man's bag so there isn't any.  Unloading my luggage bag.  Pictures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Despite the night, we had a great time and would do it all over again.  It was just challenging to get home, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;OK - I'm gonna download those pictures now!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-3538743082916571307?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/3538743082916571307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=3538743082916571307' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3538743082916571307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3538743082916571307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/08/returningugh.html' title='Returning...ugh'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-811458829129426538</id><published>2008-07-31T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T07:50:52.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Owned</title><content type='html'>So, I've been sick that past 3 days - just in time to get on a plane and go to a wedding. Splendid! I am feeling much better tho, thankfully. No more sore throat - yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much packed and ready to go. The Man still has to do his - he's a guy tho and just takes a few minutes. I started a few days ago, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado, what you all came here for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJHQ9QTFE2I/AAAAAAAAAP4/DZhZO3b3evk/s1600-h/BW2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229190393119445858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJHQ9QTFE2I/AAAAAAAAAP4/DZhZO3b3evk/s400/BW2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-811458829129426538?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/811458829129426538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=811458829129426538' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/811458829129426538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/811458829129426538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hnt-owned.html' title='HNT - Owned'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SJHQ9QTFE2I/AAAAAAAAAP4/DZhZO3b3evk/s72-c/BW2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-9004678270289865275</id><published>2008-07-28T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T08:06:05.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Brands</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/448/029/06/Michael_Kors_sandals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/448/029/06/Michael_Kors_sandals.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.roxy-roxy.com/_borders/RoxyPink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.roxy-roxy.com/_borders/RoxyPink.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.googlesina.net/eb/8F69-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.googlesina.net/eb/8F69-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.smarter.com/blogs/levis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.smarter.com/blogs/levis.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://beautyandtheblog.podbean.com/wp-content/blogs/6390/uploads/sephora.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://beautyandtheblog.podbean.com/wp-content/blogs/6390/uploads/sephora.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA - I stayed away from posting anything Betsey Johnson because Vixen did her whole thing on it, lol. These are a few brands I think are known right away from site by most people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend The Man added rope lighting to the gazebo thing and did some other household tinkering. We had a BBQ Saturday night and enjoyed friends in the cool night (it's finally been a little cooler at night - like after 8pm - to where you can sit outside and relax).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wierd Ass Mom had a redneck party to go to so I decked her out as best we could. She doesn't have any redneck clothing so we opted to go the redneck cougar route. She ended up looking really good, lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, we watched Thank You For Not Smoking (loved it) and then went to Walgreen's and came back and lazed around the house. Went swimming for a little bit in the afternoon &amp;amp; that was it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only have a 2 day work week this week. Thursday, we'll take our time getting up &amp;amp; then head down to San Diego, stopping at my work along the way to pick up my paycheck and deposit it before getting to the airport. We have to be there 2hrs before our plane leaves &amp;amp; with that airport, you'd better be. Our plane leaves at 4:30 and gets in Denver at their 8pm (our 7pm). It's never taken 2.5 hours to get there before, so hopefully, it'll be the same. More like 2hrs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't wait to spend a crazy weekend with Vixen and PC during their wedding!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today - I had motivated plans of going to the mall looking for a bachelorette party top for the 15th, but now I'm not so sure. I need to start packing and planning shit for this weekend too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to see the wizard - you all have a good day ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-9004678270289865275?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/9004678270289865275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=9004678270289865275' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9004678270289865275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9004678270289865275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/mute-monday-brands.html' title='Mute Monday - Brands'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5241730109487400914</id><published>2008-07-23T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T18:52:15.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - BJ Shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOZajZd2kI/AAAAAAAAAO4/dTICKi1XhRU/s1600-h/BJ+shoes2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225188674137610818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOZajZd2kI/AAAAAAAAAO4/dTICKi1XhRU/s320/BJ+shoes2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOZjDeamnI/AAAAAAAAAPA/SJNl4AaTtcQ/s1600-h/BJ+shoes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225188820187257458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOZjDeamnI/AAAAAAAAAPA/SJNl4AaTtcQ/s320/BJ+shoes1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; No, you dirty pervs. I know what you're thinking too. But they're Betsey Johnson shoes, not...ummm...not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;. Wouldn't that be cool tho? BJ shoes? Strap 'em on &amp;amp; they do all the work for you?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5241730109487400914?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5241730109487400914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5241730109487400914' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5241730109487400914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5241730109487400914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hnt-bj-shoes.html' title='HNT - BJ Shoes'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOZajZd2kI/AAAAAAAAAO4/dTICKi1XhRU/s72-c/BJ+shoes2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7277733360609700136</id><published>2008-07-22T16:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T16:40:26.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvbFO6n6I/AAAAAAAAAPg/igtSKsG-EnE/s1600-h/patio+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Happy Humpalicious Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://gallery.photo.net/photo/6731743-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gallery.photo.net/photo/6731743-md.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I was invited to a bachelorette party and it doesn't say much but a residence to show up with, dress 'downtown dressy' &amp;amp; bring 'ID &amp;amp; $35'. That kinda torques me. This party is being thrown by two girls and it's my understanding that the hostess should by throwing this - as in paying for it. Now - if that $35 is for a limo to cart our asses around the roads, so be it, I am fine with that, but don't you think they should have said that? I will be &lt;em&gt;pissed&lt;/em&gt; if my $35 just goes into those girls' pockets &amp;amp; it doesn't go towards something that benefits &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You guys want a stripper - you pay for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You want party favors or food - you pay for it (unless we go to dinner, then *I* will pay for my own, which will NOT total $35)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know - I work hard for my money (you all just sang that sentence, you know it!) and it's not to go towards something I don't approve of. It's not 'til the 15th.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Man and I did got a gazebo thing for our patio and then spent all day yesterday driving around different places hutning for patio furniture. I was PMSing so it wasn't a fun experience. We were just like oil &amp;amp; water. He'd say right just because I said left and it was really pissing me off, lol. Then I came up with brilliant idea of getting pots and filling those up with cement to keep it from getting blown away. I wanted something decorative, you know? Yeah, well - it was HARD to find something that I liked that wasn't $40 a fucking pot, not to mention the fact that no one carries FOUR of the same pot (I had to do 2 &amp;amp; 2). UGH!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But here is the almost finished results (oops - I just saw that I forgot to push that one ottoman cushion all the way down. Oh well...):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvbFO6n6I/AAAAAAAAAPg/igtSKsG-EnE/s1600-h/patio+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225986928661929890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvbFO6n6I/AAAAAAAAAPg/igtSKsG-EnE/s320/patio+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvBu62wDI/AAAAAAAAAPY/UT1q_NQYXVQ/s1600-h/patio+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225986493175480370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvBu62wDI/AAAAAAAAAPY/UT1q_NQYXVQ/s320/patio+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZuu_wEBaI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u1sKeX1bu4k/s1600-h/patio+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225986171276101026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZuu_wEBaI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u1sKeX1bu4k/s320/patio+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now I'm going to get my book, grab a beer and go out and enjoy my rewards ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7277733360609700136?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7277733360609700136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7277733360609700136' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7277733360609700136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7277733360609700136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hhd_22.html' title='HHD'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIZvbFO6n6I/AAAAAAAAAPg/igtSKsG-EnE/s72-c/patio+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4870328853754297257</id><published>2008-07-20T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T22:24:01.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Science</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgUZXeErI/AAAAAAAAAOY/rgSzql1NwCE/s1600-h/science6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224492577505284786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgUZXeErI/AAAAAAAAAOY/rgSzql1NwCE/s320/science6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Molly - the bottom of her 'hoof' has a smiley face so that where ever she goes, she leaves a happy trail ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgOOJpKZI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/I7_Lhjt5CNM/s1600-h/science5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224492471415286162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgOOJpKZI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/I7_Lhjt5CNM/s320/science5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Robotic horse, cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgJY95B2I/AAAAAAAAAOI/J7NeBqOh2EI/s1600-h/science3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224492388419438434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgJY95B2I/AAAAAAAAAOI/J7NeBqOh2EI/s320/science3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love me my Dexter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224492316874535810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgFOcQc4I/AAAAAAAAAOA/YKCHqmkyUco/s320/science.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Ooohhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgAuPkfpI/AAAAAAAAAN4/hMbOzSrSIL8/s1600-h/science2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224492239511912082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgAuPkfpI/AAAAAAAAAN4/hMbOzSrSIL8/s320/science2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4870328853754297257?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4870328853754297257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4870328853754297257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4870328853754297257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4870328853754297257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/mute-monday-science.html' title='Mute Monday - Science'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIEgUZXeErI/AAAAAAAAAOY/rgSzql1NwCE/s72-c/science6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1787808818955927499</id><published>2008-07-19T13:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T13:34:50.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*Rolls eyes*</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;*Meow*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;*Meow* *Meow**Meow*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep - I sure did.  If you don't yet, I'm sure you will soon.  Don't pay it any attention - it's just the...copy cat running around.&lt;br /&gt;*SIGH*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1787808818955927499?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1787808818955927499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1787808818955927499' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1787808818955927499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1787808818955927499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/rolls-eyes.html' title='*Rolls eyes*'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1579541029382341503</id><published>2008-07-18T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T15:54:43.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ack!  My choo-choo-vega saw the light!</title><content type='html'>The Man and I were talking about how rather than having jet lag, we have vacation lag. *SIGH*  A whole week off does things to your ambitious side and let's just say that side hasn't kicked in for either of us yet.  I'm sure that when it does, we'll be off to CO for Vixen's wedding and we'll have to start all over again, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally started a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Flickr&lt;/span&gt; account and just got done fiddling around with it.  I need a avatar dude.  I think Vixen is working on one for me.  She said she had the perfect one in mind so I'm not about to waste my time (I can get so obsessed with making cool things in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;PhotoShop&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;) if she's already started.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Woohoo&lt;/span&gt; for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night we're going to dinner with my boss out at one of the wineries.  He is an elite  member (or whatever) and it's a release party so we get to try some expensive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dinero&lt;/span&gt; wine.  And a free dinner.  And an opportunity to get all dolled up.  How could I say no like The Man wanted me to???  My boss has been bugging me for awhile now and there's only so many times I can come up with lame excuses for declining.   Plus, it irritates me that The Man becomes such A Pill over these rare &amp;amp; few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;in between&lt;/span&gt; affairs because he &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; has a great time.  I think it's just getting his ass in gear to do something different from the usual hanging out with friends &amp;amp; drinking.  Talk about lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been on the Rachel Ray with dinners this week.  I made taco pizza, skillet chicken pot pie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;boneless&lt;/span&gt; pork chops marinated in herbs &amp;amp; garlic with asparagus and quartered red potatoes seasoned with garlic pepper, sea salt &amp;amp; lemon pepper - all cooked out on the grill.  Oh yum!  The Man got up early and put the pot roast in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;crock pot&lt;/span&gt; (he has his secret recipe) and I'm going to shred it up and make open faced sandwiches on french rolls.  Put sauteed onions and bell peppers on top, then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;swiss&lt;/span&gt; cheese &amp;amp; under the broiler it goes.  My house smells Heavenly at the moment!!  Vixen would &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;lurve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; it.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to the mall this weekend too.  The Man needs a shirt and I need a dress to wear to Vixen's rehearsal dinner.  I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for - I'm open so I hope I find something I like - that's not a heart attack to my checkbook, you know??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck - the stupid midgets have eaten 3 pairs of my panties this week!!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Cerveza&lt;/span&gt; pulls them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; the hamper holes (I know!) even when I stuff in my pant leg or on the side that's up against the wall.  Little Siegfried and Roy mother fucker.  Then Abbie destroys them.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Cerveza&lt;/span&gt; doesn't wreck them - I'd just grab them &amp;amp; throw them in the wash, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;noooo&lt;/span&gt;...she has to go all Courtney Love on them.  I'm going to Target this weekend too and getting a solid hamper.  Assholes.  Sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep forgetting to contact my grandma to see if she wants to do lunch one day during the week.  She's going to write my ass out of the will if I keep that up.  If she hasn't already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh fuck!  I took a digger at work today.  Thank &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;F'ing&lt;/span&gt; God that no one saw me.  I'm wearing a jean skirt too.  See, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;whatta&lt;/span&gt; happen was...(we always say that when we're about to tell a story - you gotta add a down-south bayou accent to it) I'm wearing these wedge flip-flops and I apparently stepped on the side of it instead of coming straight down and twisty goes my ankle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I know I'm going down &amp;amp; try to catch myself but that just ends up fucking me up worse.  I land on my knee and wrist at the same time, then *oomph* goes my tummy, other arm, face.  Rug burns on my knee and elbows.  Skirt up around my waist showing the world my baby maker.  *DIES*  I laughed and hopped right the fuck back up because anyone could be coming around the corner at any time.  Oh shit.  My wrist and ankle hurt a little but they're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; now.  Probably the funniest thing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;any one's&lt;/span&gt; seen in a long time if they had seen it.  Sorta makes me sad no one did see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's way past beer-thirty and I'm way past due for one.  Have a good Friday night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1579541029382341503?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1579541029382341503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1579541029382341503' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1579541029382341503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1579541029382341503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/ack-my-choo-choo-vega-saw-light.html' title='Ack!  My choo-choo-vega saw the light!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2655616999873563801</id><published>2008-07-17T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T06:07:12.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - mama said knock you out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DnBuanRI/AAAAAAAAANw/PYyMCvceuII/s1600-h/boyshorts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223968430530141458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DnBuanRI/AAAAAAAAANw/PYyMCvceuII/s320/boyshorts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DUxvq9qI/AAAAAAAAANo/SDpbufmr1Uc/s1600-h/JeanButt.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DQocUvkI/AAAAAAAAANg/li3Xl6XdEt0/s1600-h/JeanButtBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DJq67N3I/AAAAAAAAANY/1P02XNxea7A/s1600-h/BackButtBW.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2655616999873563801?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2655616999873563801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2655616999873563801' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2655616999873563801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2655616999873563801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hnt-mama-said-knock-you-out.html' title='HNT - mama said knock you out'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SH9DnBuanRI/AAAAAAAAANw/PYyMCvceuII/s72-c/boyshorts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4283628867209111536</id><published>2008-07-15T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T06:27:42.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What were you known as in HS (Jock, Princess, Geek)?&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; I was nothing. I partied with people the year above me and then below me (my brother's class). I guess my year probably didn't even notice me - they were a bunch of goody-two-shoes. My brother's class was the FUN one so we partied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What were you really? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I was super skinny. People thought I was anorexic but I ate like a pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you could go back and tell your 16 year old self one thing, what would it be? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Don't waste your time with the surfer guy. M.e.n.t.a.l issues on his part. It was Hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you could erase one moment from your school days what would it be? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have a lot to choose from, lol. I hated school. It was boring and unchallenging for me. I finished early but was required to stay all 4yrs. My senior year consisted of a creative writing class, an art class &amp;amp; the last one I helped out in the office (read: stole off campus passes &amp;amp; sold them for $5) before I left at lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Who did you not date (or more) that you wish you did? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ha! I had a crush on Jeremy Simpson. A twin. The cuter one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): If you went to prom, describe your outfit. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I went to two. Mine and then my boyfriend's at the time. Shit, I can't even remember what I wore to the first one, but the second one was so '80's style. It was this peach satin skirt and the top was peach with white polka dots. Ewwww....lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4283628867209111536?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4283628867209111536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4283628867209111536' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4283628867209111536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4283628867209111536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/tmi-tuesday.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7941990675909749372</id><published>2008-07-14T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T08:33:20.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's the ho?  Idaho!</title><content type='html'>Well, Idaho in the summer time is really...normal.  Besides only seeing white people and the normal state differences (license plates etc etc) it wasn't that big of a change.  The weather was awesome (mid 80's compared to the low 100's here was SUPER refreshing) and lots of CA friends were already there (either visiting too or had moved up there) that it didn't seem we were so far away from our own town.  It was oddly strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man's buddy was surprised, but he knew something was up.  After he left for work, his wife went about to making our beds (air mattresses in the den) and he had forgotten something &amp;amp; came back home &amp;amp; caught her, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.  Tuesday was really fun - like old times here.  The rest of the week was just relaxing.  They both had to work.  I think The Man would move there in a heartbeat if it didn't snow.  Like thousands of others would, I'm sure, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a different lifestyle up there, for sure.  People are...slow.  And friendly.  They talk to you!  They start conversations with you!  They smile at you!  CA is a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-friendly state, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.  I felt like I was in a Twilight Zone episode.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Doh&lt;/span&gt;!  And gas prices are a lot cheaper and so is the tax.  We got groceries and the tax was only $2.80!  And while the cheapest gas here wavers around $4.50, up there it was $3.89.  *SIGH*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of their friends were major porn stars.  It was funny knowing that while having dinner with them.  I'm not sure if they knew we knew.  One, she still strips and just screams "Crazy-ass bitch" (she's nice, not that mental crazy type, but Hell raising type crazy).  But we came home &amp;amp; googled each of them &amp;amp; watched them in action *snort*.  They left CA to leave that behind them &amp;amp; start fresh (one is married).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is spent taking the dogs to the vet to get their shots updated &amp;amp; get their licenses renewed.  Riverside county does this thing every few years of going around &amp;amp; putting notices on doors and you call &amp;amp; have them come back to prove you licensed your dog.  PITA, but it's not something I can ignore.  I can never remember when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cerveza's&lt;/span&gt; license is up (what month - it's a yearly thing) so he might still be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, but I doubt it since I got the vet reminder card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a survey Vixen tagged my ass with ;)&lt;br /&gt;1. Link the person(s) who tagged you&lt;br /&gt;2. Mention the rules on your blog&lt;br /&gt;3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours…&lt;br /&gt;4. Tag 6 following &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt; by linking them…&lt;br /&gt;5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;So….here goes. &lt;br /&gt;1) I am a very open-minded person, as in I accept lots of different things, but I have my own STRONG opinions.  If that makes sense.  I hate certain things in people, but I won't be rude to you because of it.  I won't NOT be your friend because of it.  Does that make sense?&lt;br /&gt;2) I used to be pitifully shy.  I got tired of it &amp;amp; started forcing myself to be more confident.  Challenging myself to do things that made me uncomfortable.  I still do to this day.  I could very easily be a hermit somewhere.  It's a constant battle within myself.  I'm not a people person.  Hole me up somewhere with a shit load of animals &amp;amp; I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ecstatic&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;3) I don't do small talk.  'Gabby' people annoy me.  Stop talking already!  Enjoy the silence, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;!  Really, in social situations, I will keep up the conversation, but you can definitely tell when I want out or don't want to be dragged in.  I don't need to fill the air between us with senseless chatter.&lt;br /&gt;4) (Like Vixen I hate talking on the phone too, but I'll pick something else here, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;) It fucking bugs the ever-living shit out of me when someone is in my kitchen while I'm cooking.  Get out!!  Get out, get out, get out!!!  And you want to see me run to the bedroom to scream or I'll deck you upside the face??  Dip your nasty ass fingers in what I'm making to take a taste!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; - The Man's dad does this and he grosses me out as a person anyway so you can imagine my ire being irked when he &lt;em&gt;licks&lt;/em&gt; the spoon and puts it &lt;em&gt;back in&lt;/em&gt;!!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;OMFG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;OMFG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;OMFG&lt;/span&gt;  I feel like throwing it out &amp;amp; starting it all over again.  Sit your FAT ASS down and wait until dinner is done - you have enough layers on you that you won't starve!&lt;br /&gt;5) One night stands are a fetish of mine...before I was married.  It was a different life time ago.&lt;br /&gt;6) Stupid people &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; bother me.  I realize this is a loaded opinion because one man's stupid is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;another's&lt;/span&gt; genius, but what the fuck happened to common sense?  Don't people have it anymore??  Do people just not &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably should have waited later in the day to answer these questions and I could have came up with better ones. You can, obviously, tell that I'm annoyed right now.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;LMFAO&lt;/span&gt;  Sorry about that.  Off to do laundry &amp;amp; shit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7941990675909749372?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7941990675909749372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7941990675909749372' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7941990675909749372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7941990675909749372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/whos-ho-idaho.html' title='Who&apos;s the ho?  Idaho!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-9074000788197391983</id><published>2008-07-07T14:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T15:10:05.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MM - Patriotism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKO4dQDHLI/AAAAAAAAANQ/FUe3Vz6BfLc/s1600-h/patriot4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220392018651585714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKO4dQDHLI/AAAAAAAAANQ/FUe3Vz6BfLc/s320/patriot4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKO0nduGrI/AAAAAAAAANI/AES_C-skfgs/s1600-h/patriot3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220391952673807026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKO0nduGrI/AAAAAAAAANI/AES_C-skfgs/s320/patriot3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKOuRRgBvI/AAAAAAAAANA/-oN4wQEjhKs/s1600-h/patriot2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220391843637757682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKOuRRgBvI/AAAAAAAAANA/-oN4wQEjhKs/s320/patriot2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKOlyAgASI/AAAAAAAAAM4/hdAQurTEyi4/s1600-h/patriot.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220391697806000418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKOlyAgASI/AAAAAAAAAM4/hdAQurTEyi4/s320/patriot.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, didn't think I would have time to do this today, but I have about an hour of alone/free time so there you go.  I won't be around the rest of the week but don't forget to stop by next week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I have some free time, I might as well write too.  Two of my friends who have blogs are having sorta the same problem and it's one I just.don't.get.  They're being left rude anon comments that are hurtful &amp;amp; spiteful.  I thought, long ago when I first got into computers &amp;amp; on-line conversations, that it is was&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;incredibly stupid&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;immature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;a huge reflection of one's character&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to type something on a screen that you would not say to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;some one's&lt;/span&gt; face.  And you can puff up your chest and say all you want that you &lt;em&gt;would&lt;/em&gt; say this or that to their face, but I'm calling bull-fucking-shit on that one.  &lt;strong&gt;Bullshit&lt;/strong&gt;.  Some things; yes, but something really rude (you all know what I mean) you so would not.  You'd be an asshole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that if you &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; would, you would sign your name to that fucking comment &amp;amp; own up to it.  Face your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;repercussions&lt;/span&gt; from the other person.  Just as if you would say that to their face, you pretty much realize it could end up in a fight.  Plus, you wouldn't say that comment to their face with a bag over your head so they couldn't tell who said it, now would you??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much what you just did leaving that anon note, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dumbass&lt;/span&gt;.  You just proved to the world and &lt;em&gt;to the person you left the note to&lt;/em&gt;, that you are a coward of the biggest kind.  You are a pussy, you - in some way - are jealous of them, you are scared of them and that your momma just didn't raise you right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she had, you would have remembered these 'in a social situation' tips  (I'm not talking about thoughts in your head.  Good Lord, we all have our opinions, they just don't need to aired out to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;purposely&lt;/span&gt; hurt someone):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Treat others how you would like to be treated&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You never know the whole story of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;some one's&lt;/span&gt; life&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't judge others&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be open minded&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What goes around, comes around&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Karma's a bitch&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Other people remember the nice people.  They want to be around them, they want to do things for them, they respect them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think the girls who had this happen to them need to brush it off and stand upright and forget about these pussies who aren't worth their time or effort.  Move on &amp;amp; ignore the stalkers - take away their ammunition.  They'll get bored.  That or play back.  Humour &amp;amp; indifference are disarming weapons. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Steps down from soapbox*  I'm off to Idaho before the buttcrack of dawn tomorrow morning.  See you all next week!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-9074000788197391983?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/9074000788197391983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=9074000788197391983' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9074000788197391983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9074000788197391983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/mm-patriotism.html' title='MM - Patriotism'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SHKO4dQDHLI/AAAAAAAAANQ/FUe3Vz6BfLc/s72-c/patriot4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5670157566132881756</id><published>2008-07-02T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T22:48:39.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Polka .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FqRCwqRI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yfB8P6NCJFE/s1600-h/Polka4tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215104223438481682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FqRCwqRI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yfB8P6NCJFE/s320/Polka4tiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FcIKStVI/AAAAAAAAAJk/2S0XtrUTnzA/s1600-h/Polka8tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FVxpiYPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/XjCZu_NXEpw/s1600-h/Polka6tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215103871413805298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FVxpiYPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/XjCZu_NXEpw/s320/Polka6tiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FPSko0qI/AAAAAAAAAJU/LGZkpHNdJWY/s1600-h/Polka5tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FJvxXsoI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x7NlVj34z_Q/s1600-h/Polka3tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215103664751358594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FJvxXsoI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x7NlVj34z_Q/s320/Polka3tiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FDpfHjVI/AAAAAAAAAJE/XrVCxxnSSlU/s1600-h/Polka2tiny2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215103559984975186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FDpfHjVI/AAAAAAAAAJE/XrVCxxnSSlU/s320/Polka2tiny2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_E9zo_CWI/AAAAAAAAAI8/4h9UUFKKLec/s1600-h/Polka1tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215103459631499618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_E9zo_CWI/AAAAAAAAAI8/4h9UUFKKLec/s320/Polka1tiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a series because I highly doubt I will be able to post anything next week when I'm in Idaho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5670157566132881756?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5670157566132881756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5670157566132881756' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5670157566132881756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5670157566132881756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hnt-polka.html' title='HNT - Polka .'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_FqRCwqRI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yfB8P6NCJFE/s72-c/Polka4tiny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6327703009224853799</id><published>2008-07-01T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T20:27:40.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGr1eIrP_FI/AAAAAAAAAMU/iL4zlUDO-H8/s1600-h/hhd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGr1eIrP_FI/AAAAAAAAAMU/iL4zlUDO-H8/s320/hhd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218253016335907922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This pic was taken by an amateur?? photographer.  He posts his pix on this one blog/site.  I just really liked it.  Sorry I couldn't get a link.)&lt;br /&gt;Hola, chaquita bananas...and a few mangos in there too!  Hope you all have a great Hump Day.  Mah hairs are gettin' a whippin' tahnight.  We'll sah what it lerks like tomarra, k?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6327703009224853799?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6327703009224853799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6327703009224853799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6327703009224853799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6327703009224853799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/hhd.html' title='HHD'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGr1eIrP_FI/AAAAAAAAAMU/iL4zlUDO-H8/s72-c/hhd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5595209747690881125</id><published>2008-07-01T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T06:35:23.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>(Their button is not working for me!)&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you believe in marriage? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well, I'd better seeing how I'm going on 16yrs of it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What is marriage to you? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Committment, respect and a lot of hard work. Even after 16ys, it's not easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you are married, why did you do it? If you are not, why have you not married? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I was barely 20 &amp;amp; needed his insurance, but we fell in love anyway. It's security too. Sometimes, I regret getting married so young. I am a &lt;em&gt;totally&lt;/em&gt; different person at 36 than I was at 20.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you believe in divorce?&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; Yes. I don't believe in divorce at the littlest disagreement. I think people use it as an easy way out, but still...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If you are divorced, why did you do it? If you have not, are there certain circumstances under which you would agree to a divorce?&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; I would &lt;em&gt;demand&lt;/em&gt; a divorce if he cheated on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): [ed note:I am not trying to spark a get political debate, I am much to superficial for that]Do you believe that same sex marriages are a threat to traditional marriages?&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; No - what the fuck are traditional marriages anyway?? No one knows what goes on behind closed doors. I think religious fanatics are hyper-ventilating for their own 'this-is-what-I-*think*-the-Bible-means-when-it-says-this' reasons. What happened to Thou shalt not judge...hmmmm?? True religion is kindness, no matter what higher being you worship. Practice it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5595209747690881125?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5595209747690881125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5595209747690881125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5595209747690881125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5595209747690881125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/07/1.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1226763364509883598</id><published>2008-06-30T08:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:06:53.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Summmmertimmmme...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2g_v4EEI/AAAAAAAAAMM/d9-suUf0MCM/s1600-h/summer6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217691215037206594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2g_v4EEI/AAAAAAAAAMM/d9-suUf0MCM/s320/summer6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2bSNb95I/AAAAAAAAAME/hQZYiU0IleY/s1600-h/summer5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217691116913817490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2bSNb95I/AAAAAAAAAME/hQZYiU0IleY/s320/summer5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2XrwWuMI/AAAAAAAAAL8/Cbagtm8br74/s1600-h/summer4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217691055051684034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2XrwWuMI/AAAAAAAAAL8/Cbagtm8br74/s320/summer4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2SoChOuI/AAAAAAAAAL0/o2igAnj4gFk/s1600-h/summer3.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217690968154782434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2SoChOuI/AAAAAAAAAL0/o2igAnj4gFk/s320/summer3.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2NdKpFUI/AAAAAAAAALs/hy1vyRQgmC4/s1600-h/summer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217690879336715586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2NdKpFUI/AAAAAAAAALs/hy1vyRQgmC4/s320/summer2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2HrlVGFI/AAAAAAAAALk/FEyE8zmJY9E/s1600-h/summer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217690780127533138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2HrlVGFI/AAAAAAAAALk/FEyE8zmJY9E/s320/summer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1226763364509883598?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1226763364509883598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1226763364509883598' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1226763364509883598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1226763364509883598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/mute-monday-summmmertimmmme.html' title='Mute Monday - Summmmertimmmme...'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGj2g_v4EEI/AAAAAAAAAMM/d9-suUf0MCM/s72-c/summer6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8935960369658406366</id><published>2008-06-28T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T22:19:38.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Functional Disfunction</title><content type='html'>Oy - I was hungover today.  Too much fun from last night. Vodka makes me very...well, drunk &amp; drunk acting, lol.  I tend to forget things when I drink vodka and then remember as people tell me.  Doh.  Anyway - many vodka &amp; cranberries later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man had came home before me and accidently locked the bedroom door so that when I came home &amp; tried to go in, I couldn't.  I banged on the door, I went outside and banged on the slider door but he was zonked out.  I got mad because I was loud enough that how could be &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; hear me?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I told my mom I was going to go outside and sleep on the patio right outside the slider so that when he woke up, he could see me &amp; feel sorry.  LOL!!!  She was like, you are not sleeping outside and I kept telling her I was.  I even wrote this nasty little note and slid it under the door!!!!!!!!!  He finally opened it &amp; I was happy.  I kill me sometimes, lol.  (I only had a towel around me too so I would have been sleeping out there naked.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried getting my game on today when I finally was feeling better, but I just couldn't get into it.  They have a kareoke machine tonight too and The Man is singing Carrie Underwood songs, lol.  I left tho - I wasn't about to be hung over 2x in a row. Bleah.  HE is going to hurting tomorrow - he is drinking the hard stuff and was pretty snockered when I left a few hours ago.  Shit - he better not puke in bed.  He did that once many years ago &amp; it was so nasty!!  (And I couldn't get him up so he ended up sleeping right next to his barf all night.  *SNORT*)  But now I always worry about it, lol.  I wish he would have stayed with beer.  I'll end up calling him in a few...if he even hears his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of phones, I got my hands-free device today so I'm all legal with July 1st rolls around.  I &lt;em&gt;loathe&lt;/em&gt; the earpieces, I really do.  And no one calls me enough to warrant putting one in my ear for 2hrs a day just &lt;em&gt;in ca&lt;/em&gt;se someone calls me so I got this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.parrot.com/usa/products/plugnplaycarkits/parrotminikit"&gt;The Parrot&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Love it*  Very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I should shower - I'm kinda stinky from pool water and sun all day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8935960369658406366?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8935960369658406366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8935960369658406366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8935960369658406366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8935960369658406366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/functional-disfunction.html' title='Functional Disfunction'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-3240280187022975241</id><published>2008-06-26T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T22:06:01.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Metallic Saliva</title><content type='html'>I wrote this Thursday, but saved it for today's post since I knew I wouldn't be able to find the time today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even tho I left work early, I've been quite productive before I got home.  I stopped &amp; tanned (&amp; bought a cute shirt for Idaho) before leaving town &amp; then once in civiliation again, stopped at Target and got a few things I needed.  Well, ok - plus some really good priced boulder holders and some matching thongs since the Midgets keep stealing mine out of the hamper and eating them in half!!!  Grrrrr....I can't tell you how many underwear they have gone thru since Abbie has been here.  It's quite annoying because I pick my panties with care!  Boo-hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, left there &amp; got gas and then just coming up to my street, there was a car pulled over and some old people trying to round up a baby lamb that had squeezed thru the fence and was alongside the street :(  I got home &amp; grabbed a bowl of dog food and a halter &amp; lead and walked down there to try to help but the owner had finally came out and got it.  The poor mama lamb was quite upset, you could hear her bleating from my house.  But I was glad everything was ok.  That's just NOT something I'd want to see splatted on the road, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh crap, I just remembered that Target didn't have some hair stuff I needed so I need to visit drugstore.com and get that shit shipped so I get it before our Idaho trip.  Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know of anyone who is doing that AdSense - where you get $$$ for letting ads be on your blog?  I was just curious if they made anything worthwhile.  Obviously, my blog is considered 'porn' (*rolls eyes*) or I'd try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA - I forgot to post this.  Oh well...better late than never, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-3240280187022975241?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/3240280187022975241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=3240280187022975241' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3240280187022975241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/3240280187022975241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/metallic-saliva.html' title='Metallic Saliva'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-114347871459370295</id><published>2008-06-25T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T21:02:56.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Scottish Throes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_GRBTBz-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/uM8b2siWA88/s1600-h/scot3S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215104889226645474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_GRBTBz-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/uM8b2siWA88/s320/scot3S.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was my first HNT.  Some of you probably know who I was before by now and have seen a lot of my HNTs before, but I'm posting them until I have time to take a bunch of new ones.  For my new readers - enjoy!  For my faithful followers - take a trip down memory lane ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-114347871459370295?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/114347871459370295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=114347871459370295' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/114347871459370295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/114347871459370295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hnt-scottish-throes.html' title='HNT - Scottish Throes'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_GRBTBz-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/uM8b2siWA88/s72-c/scot3S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4720610186293355688</id><published>2008-06-24T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T19:11:46.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD - Here piggy, piggy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_Ha9BdizI/AAAAAAAAAKE/c2JYE16UKd4/s1600-h/hhd1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215106159389543218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_Ha9BdizI/AAAAAAAAAKE/c2JYE16UKd4/s320/hhd1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Happy Hump Day everyone! I love images like these, but sadly, no one is going to tie my ass up like that, lol. I don't mind the whole play thing where I can get free if I really wanted to, but Hell no to actually being tied up. *snort*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_G9ufTeBI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/AQh2mZ7FRdo/s1600-h/hhd.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4720610186293355688?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4720610186293355688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4720610186293355688' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4720610186293355688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4720610186293355688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hhd-here-piggy-piggy.html' title='HHD - Here piggy, piggy!'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF_Ha9BdizI/AAAAAAAAAKE/c2JYE16UKd4/s72-c/hhd1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2468862805936182296</id><published>2008-06-24T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T09:00:09.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src=" http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you believe anyone truly likes their job? If so, why? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Yes, I think there are some lucky mother fuckers out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you 1) live to work or 2) work to live 3) not see a difference? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I most certainly work to live. If I was wealthy, I would be doing something I enjoy. Something with animals that probably wouldn't pay a cent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. How many hours do you work a week? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Right now - not very much. But from Aug - Christmas, I probably won't be on here much. I work 12hr days M-F and then 4-8hrs on Saturdays. It's tedious, stressful and burns me the fuck out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What was your safety item (i.e. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt;) from when you were little? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I still have her. When I was born, someone gave me a stuffed pink wind-up lamb. I used to play the tune every night to go to sleep. This lasted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; elementary school. I still pulled her out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; high school, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. She sits in my drawer now so that the midgets can't chew her up. She's torn and tattered, but I love my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lambie&lt;/span&gt; ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Have you ever used food during sex? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Yes, but rarely now since Mom has lived with us. I'd rather not spend my precious time alone cleaning up a mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional):What is your guilty food pleasure? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I try not to put guilt into my food. (Methinks you, Vixen, can afford to put whipped cream in your coffee EVERY time, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;). I try not to think about in that way, but now that I'm older, I need to be &lt;em&gt;healthier&lt;/em&gt; so I basically eat what I want, but in moderation. I'm not an extremist *ahem* (wink-wink) because *I* could get way out of control - the unhealthy kind so I don't go there. Sure - it's always on my mind, but I refuse to act on it. I'm a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;carb&lt;/span&gt;/salt person so I love chips and mashed potatoes and gravy and crackers. Just normal things ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double Bonus from our &lt;a href="http://spiritualandsexual.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;inquisitors&lt;/a&gt; (still optional): "We are looking for suggestions. . . If someone asked for your suggestions for a butt worshiping evening (an evening devoted to butt attention), what would you suggest?" &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well, my worshipping butt evening would start and end with a great butt massage. Exit only for my booty ;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, the Army of Cramps have made camp in my uterus and are now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;eliciting&lt;/span&gt; an all out war. I stayed home today. Which will bite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;donkey&lt;/span&gt; balls on my paycheck. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; Barb, my co-worker, and asked if anything was going on. She said NOTHING. So, I would just be wasting gas money even trying to show up (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; I'd end up coming home early).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man and I consolidated a &lt;em&gt;few&lt;/em&gt; bills yesterday. Instead of paying $515 a month, we're now paying $289. And have some extra cash for our trip to Idaho and the bills coming in (since my paychecks lag until August). I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;WAAAAY&lt;/span&gt; more other bills, don't get me wrong, but I took the biggest monthly-payment ones so that we'd have some extra cash to put towards the other ones. The Man and I live the American Dream - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; credit. *SNORT* I've been tired of it for awhile and am slowly making The Man see the disaster in that theory. Boy believes in living for the moment. It's &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; stressful for a Planning Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh-oh, I hear the midgets getting into something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Midget #1, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Cerveza&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEWpiKWUHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/lWsaXUbg1BA/s1600-h/CervezaG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215474746272403570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: left" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEWpiKWUHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/lWsaXUbg1BA/s320/CervezaG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEY470zWDI/AAAAAAAAAK0/WRjrrrw5bJk/s1600-h/Cerveza07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215477209882646578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEY470zWDI/AAAAAAAAAK0/WRjrrrw5bJk/s320/Cerveza07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEX_huFZdI/AAAAAAAAAKk/4c9HAJUimPU/s1600-h/A3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215476223622604242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: left" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEX_huFZdI/AAAAAAAAAKk/4c9HAJUimPU/s320/A3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEYKQfmfDI/AAAAAAAAAKs/crFhTgpHk5o/s1600-h/A1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215476407977016370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: left" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEYKQfmfDI/AAAAAAAAAKs/crFhTgpHk5o/s320/A1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and Midget #2, Abbie.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2468862805936182296?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2468862805936182296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2468862805936182296' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2468862805936182296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2468862805936182296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/tmi-tuesday_24.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SGEWpiKWUHI/AAAAAAAAAKM/lWsaXUbg1BA/s72-c/CervezaG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7623025722472357114</id><published>2008-06-23T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T08:36:09.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rambling Lipstick</title><content type='html'>*Sings The Cramps Come Marching In*  Assholes.  Right now, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; - I could totally function with just a wince here &amp;amp; there.  It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; tho because, starting today, I have Mondays off until August.  So I am really hoping today will be the end of it.  We'll see...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; 'started' yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell my mom that I wasn't going to work because I worry she will take a Monday off to do hang out with me and all I want is some 'no-mom time'.  She woke me up &amp;amp; I said I had cramps.  Damn - that lady makes so much noise in the morning, just like when we were kids.  My brother &amp;amp; I were always yelling out our rooms for her to be quiet in the mornings.  See, she would get up with my dad &amp;amp; then when he left for work, she'd start doing house work.  Even on the weekends, she was up clanking dishes and vacuuming before 6:30am.  Yeah - an even more infuriating teenager that does make.  So, to this day, as an adult, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;abhor&lt;/span&gt; the sound of the vacuum.  I really hate doing it too, but if I'm not, I am filled with all sorts of anger when someone is doing it in my house.  *snort*  I have issues, I know.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;  She enjoys it so when she's vacuuming my house, she takes forever.  (I don't have a lot of carpet in my house so it literally could take you less than 8 minutes to vacuum).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and dishes clanking!!!!  Let's not get started on that.  I fly back in time when The Man and I are in bed and I can hear her over the closed door, the A/C on, the standing fan going and the ceiling fan on...yeah - makes me want to put a cap in her ass in 2 seconds flat.   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Grrrrr&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's tough when you are grown and have your own family and your mom lives with you.  All those things you felt when you were a teenager??  Yeah - still there.  Trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Anywhore&lt;/span&gt; - the past weekend has been so hot.  The hottest it got here was 111.  And on that day we had places to go with our neighbor so I had to sit in the back seat of my car.  Which is charcoal grey, with black interior, 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sunroofs&lt;/span&gt;, and a hatch back window.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt; - can you say the poor A/C could NOT cool that thing down fast enough?  I was gasping for air.  Ugh.  Yesterday was better at 100.  I need to see what this week is supposed to bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap - it is Neighbor's birthday on Wednesday too. I think we're taking him out to dinner or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man forgot I had Mondays off and he called me at 6:45 (his usually time to say good morning when I'm on my way to work) and was freaking out that I was still in bed.  He forgets things that come out of my mouth.  He can remember words from everyone else tho.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;...funny how that works, huh?  ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe George Carlin died yesterday!!!  I liked him.  And RIP to the dragster Scott &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Kalitta&lt;/span&gt; who lost his life this weekend too.  His poor wife &amp;amp; two sons - how sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit, I can't believe in 2 weeks I'll be in Idaho.  I've never been.  Then before I know it, I'll be in CO.  Shit, time flies when you're not sitting on your ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7623025722472357114?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7623025722472357114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7623025722472357114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7623025722472357114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7623025722472357114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/rambling-lipstick.html' title='Rambling Lipstick'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4327829234931216584</id><published>2008-06-22T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T20:40:34.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Aroma/Scents</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aZha19hI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bgVo1FVgmGY/s1600-h/scent4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214915919288333842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aZha19hI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bgVo1FVgmGY/s320/scent4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aV89zmeI/AAAAAAAAAIs/XXhzy78yUkI/s1600-h/scent3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214915857963260386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aV89zmeI/AAAAAAAAAIs/XXhzy78yUkI/s320/scent3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aQ6mNFkI/AAAAAAAAAIk/_YbiSAzpjpk/s1600-h/scent2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214915771428050498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aQ6mNFkI/AAAAAAAAAIk/_YbiSAzpjpk/s320/scent2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aLouowNI/AAAAAAAAAIc/YJutpkSxLbE/s1600-h/scent1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214915680732233938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aLouowNI/AAAAAAAAAIc/YJutpkSxLbE/s320/scent1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;and I can smell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kimrichter.com/Blog/uploaded_images/graphonic_lies_2-750627.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.kimrichter.com/Blog/uploaded_images/graphonic_lies_2-750627.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4327829234931216584?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4327829234931216584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4327829234931216584' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4327829234931216584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4327829234931216584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/mute-monday-aromascents.html' title='Mute Monday - Aroma/Scents'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SF8aZha19hI/AAAAAAAAAI0/bgVo1FVgmGY/s72-c/scent4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-343478592170884395</id><published>2008-06-21T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T08:59:04.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I opener</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ohsweetgal.blogspot.com/2008/06/i.html"&gt;"I"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raw “I”s&lt;br /&gt;I am: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;open-minded, but have my set opinions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;way too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I could be a better person. *SIGH*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;the gas prices to go down &amp;amp; my bills to do that too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;puffy under-eyes right now - huh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I wasn't the stressful type.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;stupidity. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I miss: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;some of my past animals &amp;amp; going to the desert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;being kidnapped and raped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I feel: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;gelatinous. I hate getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I hear: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;the gardner mowing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smell: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I crave: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I search: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;for self-improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I wonder: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;if I well ever achieve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I regret: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;some past animal things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love:&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; in a complicated way. It comes with a lot of strings attached.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ache: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;to be understood, but I do not understand myself so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am not: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;as cool as people think, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I believe: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;in respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I dance: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;not as much as I'd like/used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I sing: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;hardly ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;when I'm frustrated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t always: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;put other people first. Doh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I fight: &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;for my right to parrrrrrtaaayyy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I write: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;all the time. I love to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I win:&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; hardly ever. It's Karma, I know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I lose: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;all the time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I never: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;am rude to the waiter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I always:&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; tip well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I confuse:&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; The Man ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I listen: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;so that I don't look stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I can usually be found:&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; in Intense Land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am scared: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;of flying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;alone time often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am happy: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;sometimes. I always strive for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I imagine: &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;that it is a futile battle. I just need to 'be' and then it'll come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's 110 here, people, 110!!  I am *meeellllttttiinnnnggggg*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-343478592170884395?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/343478592170884395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=343478592170884395' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/343478592170884395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/343478592170884395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-opener.html' title='I opener'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8384386386378411122</id><published>2008-06-18T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T20:44:27.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT-Rear View</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFnV-roNSXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/AbyD1iLfifk/s1600-h/flower1S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213433316498033010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFnV-roNSXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/AbyD1iLfifk/s320/flower1S.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFnViNhGthI/AAAAAAAAAIM/sn5jy6mZl6w/s1600-h/flower1S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's HOT here.  105 yesterday &amp;amp; 106 today.  *whew!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8384386386378411122?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8384386386378411122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8384386386378411122' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8384386386378411122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8384386386378411122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hnt-rear-view.html' title='HNT-Rear View'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFnV-roNSXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/AbyD1iLfifk/s72-c/flower1S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-578881457747682019</id><published>2008-06-17T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T19:19:52.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What's your favorite color of lingerie? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Black &amp;amp; pink or polka dot or something different like cool piping or something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. Do you have a porn collection? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Duh - yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you have any fetishes? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Not really, other than not being so into foreplay. I like to just get down to it, already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. What is your favorite place to have sex? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Anywhere in the house, I suppose. I'm not picky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you like to scratch, bite, pull hair, etc? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Not really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;6. Do you like having it done to you? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Yes ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): Do you think the number of sexual partners you've had is below average, average, or above average, and how does that make you feel? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;When I was 19-20 &amp;amp; freshly married, I thought it was high but now at 36, no. I'm totally fine with it. I'd be fine with 100. Sex to me is something to do for fun, it isn't associated to love for me. Oh sure, you want to know the #, right? I'm surprised it's not part of the question, lol. It's somewhere 15-20-ish. I never kept track. I'd have to sit with a pen &amp;amp; paper. Sue me, I had FUN!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-578881457747682019?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/578881457747682019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=578881457747682019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/578881457747682019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/578881457747682019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/tmi-tuesday_17.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6372108940806971614</id><published>2008-06-15T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T19:24:26.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Old Man</title><content type='html'>Ironically, this is exactly what I, and family members, call my dad. He's The Old Man instead of 'his name' or 'dad'. He owns a construction company and for as long as I can remember, he's been this, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFV1HfRMu7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/hFuDtE2IITk/s1600-h/dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212200915264388018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFV1HfRMu7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/hFuDtE2IITk/s400/dad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;*This* is my dad. It's no wonder that I have a deep sense of humor. He's fricking hilarious when he's not on his best behavior. He's the reason why it takes a lot for me to laugh, but then again, not really. Hard to explain. My mom, on the other hand, laughs hysterically at the stupidest, tiniest things and it drives me nuts, lol. Oh well...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFV1tIoQ05I/AAAAAAAAAIE/Sbe81UUJXpE/s1600-h/BonkSleep2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212201562022138770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFV1tIoQ05I/AAAAAAAAAIE/Sbe81UUJXpE/s400/BonkSleep2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is *my* old man. I can't believe he's 16 this year. The Man got him when he was 8wks old and he was &lt;em&gt;hyper&lt;/em&gt;. Running all over the place, but not able to stop in time so he kept "bonking" into things. Bonk is a good boy. He sleeps a lot and has a gimp (he broke his hip at about 12wks) but still protects his property from the young-uns outside. He'll fight, lol. He's been bitten by a dog, hit by a car, poisoned, had tumors on the outside of his skin...you name it, this cat has been thru it. Even at 7lbs, he's a true Tom Cat. I love my little Bonkers ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;(Even as I try to type this, he keeps going across the keyboard, rubbing up against me for some love. It annoys the shit out of me; getting cat hair in my lipgloss and eyes, but I realize his time is shortening so I put up with it.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Other than that - the weekend was good. The Man ended up not going on the fishing trip. He wasn't feeling well, amongst other things, so he opted out. Right now he is watching NASCAR and the golf game so I'm able to do the things I had planned. We went shopping earlier and a BBQ is planned for later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have a lot more to say, but chores are calling my name and I can't just sit here relaxed when I know I have a list of things to do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6372108940806971614?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6372108940806971614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6372108940806971614' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6372108940806971614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6372108940806971614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/mute-monday-old-man.html' title='Mute Monday - Old Man'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFV1HfRMu7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/hFuDtE2IITk/s72-c/dad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4103893037187384378</id><published>2008-06-12T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T19:53:09.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Heart Happy Recipe</title><content type='html'>Looking for that heart healthy, thigh friendly burger? Well, I've come up with a tasty winner. Even The Man asks for these over regular hamburgers. So, here we go with pictures! How much easier can it get?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHYRPLEwLI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qTXkC_7hgds/s1600-h/SS+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211184034486730930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="252" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHYRPLEwLI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qTXkC_7hgds/s400/SS+001.jpg" width="353" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is all you need for the basic Southwestern Turkey Burger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;lb of lean ground turkey&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 to 3/4 can of diced (or stewed - it just means you'll have some chopping to do if you get the stewed) jalapeno tomatoes. Rotel or whatever your store sells is fine. Sometimes it's hard to find them with the jalapenos. Any sort of 'Mexican version' works fine too - you just need some extra spice. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SAVE THE REST!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;epper&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Salt-free seasoning that's similar to Lowry's (if you're not worried about your heart, go ahead &amp;amp; add Lowry's or TexMex or whatever!!!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diced onion - however much you want&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diced garlic (I love garlic so I add a lot) Again - if you're not worried about sodium, you can substitue garlic powder and garlic salt for fresh or minced in a jar garlic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 egg as meat binder (or whatever you usually use as a meatloaf etc binder)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHZnmRZ7OI/AAAAAAAAAGc/YgkdQ2fkf0A/s1600-h/SS+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211185518156049634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="213" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHZnmRZ7OI/AAAAAAAAAGc/YgkdQ2fkf0A/s320/SS+002.jpg" width="294" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (I use these suckers in EVERYTHING from omelettes to casseroles to...everything!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHaPS08dfI/AAAAAAAAAGk/x18iUAC_PAY/s1600-h/SS+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211186200131171826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="211" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHaPS08dfI/AAAAAAAAAGk/x18iUAC_PAY/s320/SS+004.jpg" width="294" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ooopsie - I got the stewed ones instead of the diced ones! Simply dice them up! And reserve the juice -don't throw it away!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHanRwV1bI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PZHjUoS34-Q/s1600-h/SS+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211186612160288178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="203" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHanRwV1bI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PZHjUoS34-Q/s320/SS+003.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, once we've diced everything up, throw it all together with the meat &amp;amp; mix-mash away!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHbEfVoNLI/AAAAAAAAAG0/6FboYm4l1Vg/s1600-h/SS+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211187114022548658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHbEfVoNLI/AAAAAAAAAG0/6FboYm4l1Vg/s320/SS+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Doesn't that look yummy, Vixen??? You know what? I think it would be great fun to throw raw meatballs at you while you're in a bikini. I can just hear you screaming as the meat pelts your flesh. AHAHHAHAHA! (Ok, upon further thinking, I realize that sounds mean. So, in return, &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; can throw &lt;em&gt;sushi&lt;/em&gt; at me.)&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHbt1VyO-I/AAAAAAAAAG8/6HdnrnjTo-4/s1600-h/SS+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211187824303422434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHbt1VyO-I/AAAAAAAAAG8/6HdnrnjTo-4/s320/SS+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now you can do this however you want to. I've certainly done it several ways. If you like the big, round burgers, just make them how you normally do, but I learned a quick, easy tip from Alton Brown. I take wax paper and lay it down on a cookie sheet (if I have several pounds) or a shallow plastic dish. You just need sides. I pound it in so that it is all even! How cool is that? Then I just cut it up into squares!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At this point, you can wrap the wax paper over the top &amp;amp; put it in the fridge to cook later or you can start cooking right away.&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHcdAyCXPI/AAAAAAAAAHE/f094Vbj6Hv0/s1600-h/SS+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211188634828561650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHcdAyCXPI/AAAAAAAAAHE/f094Vbj6Hv0/s320/SS+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm only making 4 burgers here and see how cool they look? They're all the same size too. So, while these are cooking I prep some other stuff:&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHc4GOSDTI/AAAAAAAAAHM/9qcxZV0NrYY/s1600-h/SS+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211189100145675570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHc4GOSDTI/AAAAAAAAAHM/9qcxZV0NrYY/s320/SS+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, so now I take the rest of the tomatoes and juice and put it in a little food processor and blend it up. This picture is actually a little more pulverized than I normally make it. (Stupid beer!) Instead of mayo, you are going to put this on top of your burger when finished. MAYO IS BAD FOR THE HEART &amp;amp; THIGHS. *Giggles*&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHd0A9pLBI/AAAAAAAAAHU/g0Y0QOznLRI/s1600-h/SS+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211190129525861394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHd0A9pLBI/AAAAAAAAAHU/g0Y0QOznLRI/s320/SS+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here again, I do this two different ways. These burgers are done. You can either add the sauce and cheese (optional) to the top and let it melt, or do what I usually do. Transfer them to under the broiler. Be sure you either put them on a cookie sheet or have an oven-safe pan first.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now you can put them on a bun or toasted bread!! Sometimes, I even add whole green chilies to the top. YUM!&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHenl7P2QI/AAAAAAAAAHc/MJkgHiAUSGE/s1600-h/SS+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211191015621253378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHenl7P2QI/AAAAAAAAAHc/MJkgHiAUSGE/s320/SS+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (That weird looking side dish is cheesy cauliflower, lol. Not heart friendly, but I haven't made it in a long time &amp;amp; it sounded soooo good.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I LURVE to cook (bake? Notsomuch) so maybe once a month I will try to remember to post a favorite healthy recipe of mine. I have ticker issues so when I cook, it's always heartier friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHfhul_XII/AAAAAAAAAHk/TczaJmbO8oA/s1600-h/SS+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211192014380424322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHfhul_XII/AAAAAAAAAHk/TczaJmbO8oA/s320/SS+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Doesn't this huge ass jar of jalapeno carrots look scrumptious??? Oh yeah, baby. Even my Mexican friends want my carrots! Maybe I will do those next time. We'll see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4103893037187384378?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4103893037187384378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4103893037187384378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4103893037187384378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4103893037187384378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/weekend-heart-happy-recipe.html' title='Weekend Heart Happy Recipe'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SFHYRPLEwLI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qTXkC_7hgds/s72-c/SS+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-9171490196948730830</id><published>2008-06-11T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T20:10:45.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT-Seduction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE8-1RRdXoI/AAAAAAAAAGM/W0lVdsQoU88/s1600-h/Pink2tiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE8-jkX3IRI/AAAAAAAAAGE/WQuxv4M5SXo/s1600-h/BWtiny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210452074671055122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE8-jkX3IRI/AAAAAAAAAGE/WQuxv4M5SXo/s400/BWtiny.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Man leaves Saturday to go ocean fishing with a bunch of the boys. He'll be back Sunday night. I'll cherish the alone time, the have-nothing-to-do time as The Man is a very active boy. He's always gotta be doing something or has something planned. Even if it is just going across the street to the neighbor's pool, it means I am not in my&lt;em&gt; own&lt;/em&gt; home relaxing or on the computer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He doesn't understand this. My need for solitude or just quiet time reading a book or watching a movie or blogging. When we do part ways, he is always coming back checking up on me. Trying to be a good attentive boy. I don't have the heart to scream, "Leave me the fuck alone already, will you?!!" He is just thinking about me, wishing I was there with him. He is not bad nor am I annoyed by &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;, just something he does, lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*SIGH* But it can be annoying, especially when my Weird Ass Mom is twisting my last fucking nerve. We rent a room to her &amp;amp; although I love her to death, it is the MOST annoying thing in the world to have a parent live with you. Like I said, I am a loner and there is NO ALONE TIME when you have a parent under the same roof. She doesn't have her own life &amp;amp; therefore is ALWAYS.HERE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll end that there. I can easily go on a huge tangent and I really don't want to do that right now. Suffice to say that I literally cry in frustration because of her. I'll get into it some other time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope you all have a great HNT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-9171490196948730830?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/9171490196948730830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=9171490196948730830' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9171490196948730830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/9171490196948730830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hnt-seduction.html' title='HNT-Seduction'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE8-jkX3IRI/AAAAAAAAAGE/WQuxv4M5SXo/s72-c/BWtiny.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4266599479231189023</id><published>2008-06-11T16:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T18:27:09.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged like a whore on payday</title><content type='html'>Crap - I totally forgot to do this like I said I would!  So, here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What was I doing ten years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Pretty much the same thing as I'm doing now except I was 26 &amp;amp; thought I knew everything already.  Boy - what a different person I am today than that!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. What are five things on my list to do today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;a-cook dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;b-reconcile bank account to ledger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;c-shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;d-have a romp session&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;e-sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Snacks I enjoy? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Beef jerky, Goldfish, oriental mix stuff, beer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Things I Would Do If I Were A Billionaire?  &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Have a great ranch somewhere AND a river house.  Fund several animal shelters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Three of my bad habits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;a-Chewing on my nails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;b-Thinking ill thoughts about WAM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;c-Insomnia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Five places I have lived?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;a-Alaska&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;b-Arizona&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;c-California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Five jobs I’ve had?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;a-pet/feed store&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;b-my dad's company&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;c-another feed store&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;d-current employment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. How did you name your blog? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Very carefully this time.  It took me awhile *snort*  I LOVE shoes so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4266599479231189023?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4266599479231189023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4266599479231189023' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4266599479231189023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4266599479231189023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/tagged-like-whore-on-payday.html' title='Tagged like a whore on payday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5435215535246487667</id><published>2008-06-10T19:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T06:31:38.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD Quote</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE85eoCj7lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/n2eKKlXvaX8/s1600-h/hhd2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210446492197973586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE85eoCj7lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/n2eKKlXvaX8/s320/hhd2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Sometimes you have to be untrue to yourself in order to be kind to others."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5435215535246487667?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5435215535246487667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5435215535246487667' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5435215535246487667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5435215535246487667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hhd-quote.html' title='HHD Quote'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SE85eoCj7lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/n2eKKlXvaX8/s72-c/hhd2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7091777791148347748</id><published>2008-06-10T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T17:36:58.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you're in love with your partner, does it make the sex better? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think it makes it different. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. What is the most expensive sex toy you've ever purchased? &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Probably my Rabbit - love it! I got it a long time ago before there were so many animal options. *snort*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you knew ahead of time you would not have an orgasm, would you still have sex? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, mainly to please my partner.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. What celebrity would you most like to have sex with if given the chance? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;MMMMcConaughey or Johnny Depp or pretty much any other hot guy, lol. My tastes are always changing but these 2 men seem to always stay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5. Have you ever had sex while an audience watched? &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not an audience, but with other couples.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Bonus (as in optional): Describe the best sexual encounter you've ever had. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry, but I hate these go-back-in-time questions. I don't have time to think about it or type it out, lol. I had a lot of fun before I was married, let's just say, ok?&lt;/em&gt;  Doh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7091777791148347748?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7091777791148347748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7091777791148347748' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7091777791148347748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7091777791148347748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/tmi-tuesday_10.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1604938109548165803</id><published>2008-06-04T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T20:10:54.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Pretty in Turquoise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEdZD7EhfCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ipMUR_TR2XE/s1600-h/TurqTINY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEdZD7EhfCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ipMUR_TR2XE/s400/TurqTINY.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208229418008411170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya all Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1604938109548165803?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1604938109548165803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1604938109548165803' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1604938109548165803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1604938109548165803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hnt-pretty-in-turquoise.html' title='HNT - Pretty in Turquoise'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEdZD7EhfCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ipMUR_TR2XE/s72-c/TurqTINY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2167219780120976372</id><published>2008-06-03T17:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T06:36:04.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HHD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEXj-rEhfBI/AAAAAAAAAFc/IqipZ0O4JMc/s1600-h/hhd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEXj-rEhfBI/AAAAAAAAAFc/IqipZ0O4JMc/s400/hhd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207819209976937490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Hump Day everyone!  I won't be around this weekend, we're off to the river for 4 days.  I'll post HNT before I leave tho!  And I'll read your today posts this evening when I get home from work ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Muah!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2167219780120976372?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2167219780120976372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2167219780120976372' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2167219780120976372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2167219780120976372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/hhd.html' title='HHD'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SEXj-rEhfBI/AAAAAAAAAFc/IqipZ0O4JMc/s72-c/hhd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5843173100906788347</id><published>2008-06-03T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T17:30:28.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src=" http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How old were you when you first kissed a boy?  &lt;em&gt;I can't believe so many people remember kissing boys before 8 or whatever!  Maybe I've done too many drugs in the past or something, but I have no clue.  LOL!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Who would play you in the movie of your life story?  &lt;em&gt;Oooh - Fergie or Marisa Tomei would be cool.  Actually, I don't care as long as she can act.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What is the number one thing your love/hate about gay people?  &lt;em&gt;I don't hate anything.  Gay guys are hilarious - I don't think gay women are as funny tho.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you could legally get married to "the fella" - or any fella - would you?  &lt;em&gt;Like everyone else, I have no idea what this question is really asking.  So there.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Have you ever worn short short shorts in public?  &lt;em&gt;Yes, when I was younger &amp; could pull it off, lol. I still wear normal shorts tho.  It's why they're called shorts - duh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): Who is your favorite blogger?  &lt;em&gt;Well, seeing how we've been friends for like 22 yrs,  I'd have to say Vix.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5843173100906788347?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5843173100906788347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5843173100906788347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5843173100906788347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5843173100906788347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/tmi-tuesday.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6415515302209506481</id><published>2008-06-02T17:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T17:30:09.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MM - Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQfLEhfAI/AAAAAAAAAFU/U-7P-2jG6N0/s1600-h/beauty5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQfLEhfAI/AAAAAAAAAFU/U-7P-2jG6N0/s320/beauty5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207445934369242114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQbLEhe_I/AAAAAAAAAFM/Jja-zBaJL7M/s1600-h/beauty4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQbLEhe_I/AAAAAAAAAFM/Jja-zBaJL7M/s400/beauty4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207445865649765362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQSrEhe-I/AAAAAAAAAFE/YSsF7H6N8ow/s1600-h/beauty3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQSrEhe-I/AAAAAAAAAFE/YSsF7H6N8ow/s400/beauty3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207445719620877282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQOLEhe9I/AAAAAAAAAE8/K9yPT9hPnV0/s1600-h/beauty2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQOLEhe9I/AAAAAAAAAE8/K9yPT9hPnV0/s400/beauty2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207445642311465938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQI7Ehe8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/vc3lU6oiL6o/s1600-h/beauty1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQI7Ehe8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/vc3lU6oiL6o/s320/beauty1.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207445552117152706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6415515302209506481?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6415515302209506481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6415515302209506481' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6415515302209506481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6415515302209506481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/06/mm-beauty.html' title='MM - Beauty'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SESQfLEhfAI/AAAAAAAAAFU/U-7P-2jG6N0/s72-c/beauty5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-57967918003186277</id><published>2008-05-29T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T17:05:36.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOL</title><content type='html'>So, ummm, yeah.  I can't tell if Lilac &amp; Spoil (who commented the exact same thing as Lilac) are serious or spammers.  Anywhore - these pix and all of my HNTs are exactly of me.  Anyone from my other site knows me/my body/my style of photography to vouch for me.  The bottom one - good lord, if it weren't me, don't you think I'd pick someone w/o those saddlebags???  And all the crap on my bathroom counter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should take it as a compliment (if it is, indeed, a serious comment &amp; not spam) that someone thought my self-taken pix were 'magazine quality'.  *Snort*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to walk across the street &amp; have a beer with the neighbor boys.  I'd actually write, but Big D is just visiting on his way home &amp; I'd like to say hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy vey, that was a good laugh tho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-57967918003186277?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/57967918003186277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=57967918003186277' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/57967918003186277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/57967918003186277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/lol.html' title='LOL'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7872418503760563026</id><published>2008-05-28T16:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T16:51:58.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT - Getting Ready for Him</title><content type='html'>Check that - I just paid $4.19 for the cheap stuff today. *Pokes self in the eye with a spork* Gah! Fucking Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - onto more pleasant things. Sorry this is posted early, but it's the only time I'll have to myself tonight to be able to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vRGgvPEI/AAAAAAAAAEc/_dyox77NUB0/s1600-h/tie2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vRGgvPEI/AAAAAAAAAEc/_dyox77NUB0/s400/tie2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205579821394902082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vZGgvPFI/AAAAAAAAAEk/G0YDNSD1gS4/s1600-h/tie4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vZGgvPFI/AAAAAAAAAEk/G0YDNSD1gS4/s400/tie4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205579958833855570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vnWgvPGI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RuE692CXuMc/s1600-h/tieB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vnWgvPGI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RuE692CXuMc/s400/tieB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205580203646991458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7872418503760563026?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7872418503760563026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7872418503760563026' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7872418503760563026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7872418503760563026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/hnt-getting-ready-for-him.html' title='HNT - Getting Ready for Him'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SD3vRGgvPEI/AAAAAAAAAEc/_dyox77NUB0/s72-c/tie2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-5915764968624415587</id><published>2008-05-27T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T19:56:51.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Hump Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJQ2gvPAI/AAAAAAAAAD8/sfNBPvdx8QM/s1600-h/thumb300x_2007_10_11_mattia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205256560681368578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJQ2gvPAI/AAAAAAAAAD8/sfNBPvdx8QM/s320/thumb300x_2007_10_11_mattia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJsGgvPCI/AAAAAAAAAEM/oFdP9VAqFiA/s1600-h/artS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205257028832803874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJsGgvPCI/AAAAAAAAAEM/oFdP9VAqFiA/s400/artS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJWGgvPBI/AAAAAAAAAEE/XxJ9F-C-P9w/s1600-h/artS.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-5915764968624415587?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/5915764968624415587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=5915764968624415587' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5915764968624415587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/5915764968624415587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-hump-day_27.html' title='Happy Hump Day'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDzJQ2gvPAI/AAAAAAAAAD8/sfNBPvdx8QM/s72-c/thumb300x_2007_10_11_mattia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-4283961337101447431</id><published>2008-05-27T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T09:52:31.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Squatters in My Baby-maker</title><content type='html'>My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TMI&lt;/span&gt; is down there somewhere ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 3 day weekend has turned into 4. Not because I wanted it to. It means I won't get paid for yesterday. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gah&lt;/span&gt;!! But my stupid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;punctuation&lt;/span&gt; cramps are killing me. The whole thing has gotten worse/weirder over the past year or so and I can't ignore the fact that I need to see Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;HooHa&lt;/span&gt; again. But it's not as simple as that. My real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HooHa&lt;/span&gt; Dr, whom I loved and has done everything to me since I was 18 had a stroke (he's only in his 40's - how sad). He still owns the practice, but doesn't practice anymore so it's off to someone new he has hired. I really want the one who will operate on me, you know? What's the point of seeing someone else and telling them my whole history and not have them follow it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; to the end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also want the one who will really take focus on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;endo&lt;/span&gt;. We'll see - it's what I asked for now all I do is wait to see who they hook me up with. *SIGH* I'm just so used to Dr T's manners and personality (he says fuck in front of me, too cool) &amp;amp; him doing the operating &amp;amp; shit. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bleah&lt;/span&gt;. It was like, "Hey Dr T - ready for me to spread 'em?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was interesting. We were lazy Saturday (I was really quite bored) and had a BBQ at the neighbor's house Sunday. His younger roommates participated &amp;amp; they had a few of their friends over. Good lord am I glad I'm not under 22 anymore. There's no drama in drinking for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;shit's&lt;/span&gt; sake. But, after that all wore off, everyone got along and we had a good time (they were fighting amongst themselves...not with any of us old people). I'm very glad I wasn't hungover yesterday, I thought for sure I would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a few errands and then The Man went out to his garage with the same neighbor and they did man things out there while I started watching Season 3 of The L Word on my computer (from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Netflix&lt;/span&gt;). I gotta finish it today doped up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;. I wasn't feeling so hot yesterday either but was glad it was a non-work day but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;noooo&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;CrampyLand&lt;/span&gt; has decided to plants roots in my cervix and create a fucking community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought of the day - I'm confused as to why women would vote for Hillary just because she's a women and why black people would vote for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; just because he's black. That doesn't make sense to me. I want a woman/black person in there just as much as the next unbiased person, but hell no if I don't agree with their thoughts! They're not getting in &lt;em&gt;just &lt;/em&gt;because of their sex or skin color. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; all about? Shouldn't it be the person who most matches your views/opinions no matter what color or sex they are??? Sex &amp;amp; race &amp;amp; age to me are moot. In anything, in any aspect of my life. &lt;em&gt;Especially&lt;/em&gt; when it comes to the person who will run this country.  (BTW - I'm independant and haven't decided yet, lol.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-4283961337101447431?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4283961337101447431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=4283961337101447431' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4283961337101447431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/4283961337101447431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/squatters-in-my-baby-maker.html' title='Squatters in My Baby-maker'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-6733163593943017402</id><published>2008-05-26T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:39:12.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What lines have you used to let someone down gently. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Ummm...I don't even remember having to do that recently, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;2. If I gave you $10K to waste, what would you buy. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, if I had to buy something (instead of paying bills) I'd buy shoes and clothes and other fun things, lol. I really want a Wii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. If I gave you $10K, but you had to spend it all on someone else, what would you buy.  &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'd buy my mom a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. If your partner brought a double dildo to bed, you'd be _&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;lmfao&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;_.&lt;br /&gt;5. What sounds to you make during sex. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Panting &amp;amp; heavy breathing (my mom lives with us)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): Tell your worst break up story. &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ummm...none of them were really bad break-ups. Sure, I had shitty boyfriends, but no traumatic break-up, sorry.  When I'm done, I'm done.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-6733163593943017402?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/6733163593943017402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=6733163593943017402' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6733163593943017402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/6733163593943017402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/tmi-tuesday.html' title='TMI Tuesday'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-2078623544628600154</id><published>2008-05-26T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T08:44:37.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mute Monday - Courage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDrayGgvO_I/AAAAAAAAADw/5FXUG7U08k8/s1600-h/courage7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDrayGgvO_I/AAAAAAAAADw/5FXUG7U08k8/s320/courage7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712873656269810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDrap2gvO-I/AAAAAAAAADo/HsgV22-ojAQ/s1600-h/courgae2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDrap2gvO-I/AAAAAAAAADo/HsgV22-ojAQ/s320/courgae2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712731922349026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraj2gvO9I/AAAAAAAAADg/P_XfUiEeFVE/s1600-h/courage6.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraj2gvO9I/AAAAAAAAADg/P_XfUiEeFVE/s320/courage6.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712628843133906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraZmgvO8I/AAAAAAAAADY/gHgLX082Xj4/s1600-h/courage5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraZmgvO8I/AAAAAAAAADY/gHgLX082Xj4/s320/courage5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712452749474754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraTmgvO7I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ek7op1Zx2R4/s1600-h/courage3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraTmgvO7I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ek7op1Zx2R4/s320/courage3.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712349670259634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraM2gvO6I/AAAAAAAAADI/G__Wz8X3Pos/s1600-h/courage2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraM2gvO6I/AAAAAAAAADI/G__Wz8X3Pos/s320/courage2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712233706142626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraG2gvO5I/AAAAAAAAADA/X4iXeRJIF84/s1600-h/courage1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDraG2gvO5I/AAAAAAAAADA/X4iXeRJIF84/s320/courage1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204712130626927506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-2078623544628600154?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2078623544628600154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=2078623544628600154' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2078623544628600154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/2078623544628600154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/mute-monday-courage.html' title='Mute Monday - Courage'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDrayGgvO_I/AAAAAAAAADw/5FXUG7U08k8/s72-c/courage7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-198591789402870977</id><published>2008-05-23T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T16:55:33.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cure for Ugly Boys</title><content type='html'>I paid $4.03 a gallon last night. Fuck me in the buttocks, Jackson! Stupid oil tycoons and the kickbacks the government takes. Assholes. That's the most I've paid so far. And yes, I do drive a fuel efficient car. Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had to be on tornado watch yesterday evening! In So Cal!!! WTF? Very freaky. People weren't worried about it too much - there were touch downs a city over and it was headed this way, but everyone was outside watching the clouds &amp; shit. Pretty funny - like the last thing mid-westerners would do in a tornado watch is go play outside. *SNORT* But us Californians, we go hang out in the street. We had gnarly thunder &amp; lightening too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend it was 105...Monday it was 96 and Thurs and Fri (&amp; all of this weekend) we're having a gnarly storm. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*SIGH* I'm having...life purpose issues lately. Like - I always thought I'd...&lt;em&gt;be&lt;/em&gt; more than I am. Not necessarily be famous or rich or anything like that, but certainly more than a wife, sister &amp; daughter. Perhaps it's because I'm childless and my purpose seems...pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's merely my punctuation's fault. Doh. Whatever the reason, today I'm feeling inadequate as a human being. Bleah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have an epiphany tho. Yeppers. I know the cure for ugly boys. No, really! Listen &amp; you'll know what I say is true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tattoos. Seriously now. Look at Travis Barker - that guy is an ugly mo-fo. He's scrawny and his face is pointy with bugling eyeballers. He's...homely. But would I do him? Fuck yeah! That guy's hardcore!!! Take an ugly guy, add ink and viola! You've got yerself a stud-muffin who'll get all the girls of his dreams. &lt;br /&gt;Told ya. Who else out there is ugly, but has tatts so he's hot???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-198591789402870977?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/198591789402870977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=198591789402870977' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/198591789402870977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/198591789402870977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/cure-for-ugly-boys.html' title='Cure for Ugly Boys'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-1554464966837941741</id><published>2008-05-21T19:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T19:53:38.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HNT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDTgHGgvO4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/dJRUllCKTAE/s1600-h/ButtT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDTgHGgvO4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/dJRUllCKTAE/s320/ButtT.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203029882131397506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-1554464966837941741?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1554464966837941741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=1554464966837941741' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1554464966837941741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/1554464966837941741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/hnt.html' title='HNT'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDTgHGgvO4I/AAAAAAAAAC4/dJRUllCKTAE/s72-c/ButtT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7063336125631901640</id><published>2008-05-21T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T17:18:04.357-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy Hump Day'/><title type='text'>Happy Hump Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDS4q08rmPI/AAAAAAAAACw/6jQffqcle9g/s1600-h/HDW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202986515426941170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDS4q08rmPI/AAAAAAAAACw/6jQffqcle9g/s320/HDW.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Man is at the gym. He's been lagging lately (we won't get started on my laziness. *Ahem*) and is trying to get back on schedule.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Need to get started on my letter to my boss about my "manager" - who is really not. But she's barely doing the work of a lowly temp employee. She is worthless. Barb is going to give him hers Friday and then I will hit him a week or two later. Anyway - I've purged my thoughts/anger already to get out the bitchiness and now I just need to format it and make it more diplomatic, lol.She's a good person, just not a manager. At.All. She did so many things that pissed us off today that it rekindled my fire and I need to get on it before I get lazy again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Mom is at her friend's tonight. Thank God. That woman drives me battier and battier each passing minute I am around her. Do we really need 8 cans of big cans of spaghetti sauces at once? I don't have the room to shop like that. I was giving her a hard time and she made the excuse that she only got what she knew we used during the summer (which, amazingly enough is what we use in the winter too....????). I told her the stores were open all summer! I can go on forever about that woman, but I've been trying not to. It gets my blood boiling and is really not healthy for me. If you're thinking of inviting your perfectly healthy (well, relatively...she can still support herself) mother to live with you, I have one word for you - areyoufuckingcrazy??!!!! DON'T. Just DON'T. You will regret it. And mine doesn't have a life of her own either so I'm doubly fucked.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Better go start dinner while I have the motivation to. Have a happy hump day everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7063336125631901640?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7063336125631901640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7063336125631901640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7063336125631901640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7063336125631901640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-hump-day.html' title='Happy Hump Day'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SDS4q08rmPI/AAAAAAAAACw/6jQffqcle9g/s72-c/HDW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-7568534838796675227</id><published>2008-05-20T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T15:00:19.844-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TMI'/><title type='text'>TMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tmituesday.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TMI Tuesday" src="http://tinypic.com/dw3xoj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. How many credit cards do you own? Are they paid off? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oooh - a lot.  Waaay too many.  Every time I get them low, I have to use them.  I need to just do it tho - pay &amp;amp; cancel.  *SIGH*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Can you be in love with someone you don't trust?  &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I think you can be in lust, but to me, trusting is a part of love and if I don't trust you, you don't get my love.  I'll take it back.  Yes, just like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Should prostitution be legal? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I don't understand why it is.  I don't give a shit if someone wants to pay for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. On a scale of 1-10, how good of a lover do you think you are? (1 is lowest, 10 is highest)&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;  Depends on who you ask, lol.  If I'm into it, I can be pretty high, but on a day to basis, I'll humble myself with a 5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What are three mistakes someone could make on the first date with you that would automatically make you turn down a second date with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;1 - Be rude to the staff (like the waiter or ticket seller etc etc etc) or people around us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;2 - Be egotistical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;3 - Be obnoxiously drunk/out of control&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus (as in optional): Tell us about your worst date ever.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;  I haven't dated in 16yrs, lol!  I honestly can't remember a bad date, although I'm sure I had a few.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-7568534838796675227?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/7568534838796675227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=7568534838796675227' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7568534838796675227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/7568534838796675227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/tmi.html' title='TMI'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6353531229859015857.post-8346732665152253231</id><published>2008-05-20T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T11:47:30.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Shoes</title><content type='html'>Ahhhh - a clean slate. I'm not new to the online diary world. In fact, I have been doing it for quite some time, starting out &amp;amp; spending the last several, several years at &lt;a href="http://opendairy.com/"&gt;OpenDiary&lt;/a&gt; but it started to feel like an old neighborhood. And I'm not talking about the kind that rises in value. I ached to move &amp;amp; so I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been there long, but I discoverd the world of HNTs and then started directing people IRL to it so that they could see my pictures (to see if they wanted me to take some risque pictures of them for their loved ones) and I lost my anonymity there. I started not writing, which just sucks. I'm a writer, a word purger. So, I decided to start a private blog and not tell anyone IRL about it (except my best friend who also blogs - who also knows everything about me anyway!). We'll see how it goes ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my place to vent, to cry, to dream, to hope, to anguish. It is my brain waterfall - words cascading over when it gets too full. I'll say things I wished I hadn't. Open secrets that should have been kept closed. Piss you off here &amp;amp; there. But this is me - uncensored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the right to write. You have the right to leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6353531229859015857-8346732665152253231?l=stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8346732665152253231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6353531229859015857&amp;postID=8346732665152253231' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8346732665152253231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6353531229859015857/posts/default/8346732665152253231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stiletto-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-shoes.html' title='New Shoes'/><author><name>Stiletto Reflections</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12789390957499626168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JtuzHtKraMs/SIOX4RCg2CI/AAAAAAAAAOw/C1WCTh0Dowg/S220/SRicon.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
