<?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-11942972</id><updated>2011-11-26T23:34:53.079-05:00</updated><category term='Anti He&apos;s Just Not  That Into You'/><category term='Morning After Substitute.'/><category term='My Boyfriend Jack 2005'/><category term='Metaphors'/><category term='Portland'/><category term='chipwich'/><category term='New Jersey'/><category term='Family'/><category term='F.I.F.'/><category term='OR'/><category term='Paranioa'/><category term='Greatest City in the World'/><category term='My Boyfriend Jack'/><category term='postive thinking'/><category term='From the Cubicle and other Tales of Work'/><category term='football'/><category term='Smallhands Ick Logic'/><category term='health and beauty'/><category term='My Best Friend Anna'/><category term='My Parents'/><title type='text'>Smallhands Ick</title><subtitle type='html'>Typo--laden comedic brilliance of one Rachael Parenta
(misspelled Rachel Parenta)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1053</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3126666505407259577</id><published>2011-09-07T14:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T17:06:28.608-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greatest City in the World'/><title type='text'>Two Twenty Five is a lot for Some People</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:donotpromoteqf/&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeother&gt;EN-US&lt;/w:LidThemeOther&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeasian&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeAsian&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemecomplexscript&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;    &lt;w:splitpgbreakandparamark/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/&gt;    &lt;w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertalignintxbx/&gt;    &lt;w:word11kerningpairs/&gt;    &lt;w:cachedcolbalance/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;   &lt;m:mathpr&gt;    &lt;m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbin val="before"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbinsub val="--"&gt;    &lt;m:smallfrac val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef/&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-priority:99;  mso-style-qformat:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin-top:0in;  mso-para-margin-right:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;  mso-para-margin-left:0in;  line-height:115%;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:11.0pt;  font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";  mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New York City the self -proclaimed "Greatest City in the World." Sure it's expensive but that money pays for non-stop excitement-even at 11:00am on a Saturday morning in the safe neighborhood of 59th Street and Lexington Avenue in Manhattan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;There I was with my metro card (that's a little plastic card you use a debit card to pay subway fare.) in hand ready to swipe it at the turnstile. There I continued to stand in the non-crowded, subway station repeatedly swiping my card. The little swipey machine mocking me over and over as it tells me to "please swipe again at this turnstile."  Yes, through all the fare hikes the NYC MTA has levied they have yet to upgrade their magnetic strip reading device. I thought to myself, "Well, I'm lucky a bunch of ambitious in a rush New Yorkers aren't in back of me telling me to 'Fuck myself!'"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;I should not have counted my lucky stars so soon. As I'm battling with the turnstile I notice a woman standing in front of me on the other side of the turnstile. Kind of like if one of us was visiting the other in prison. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She seems to want to exit the subway platform, but she does not move to one of the many empty turnstiles to my right. "That's weird," I think.  Finally, the steel Praetorian Guard of the 4,5,6,Q,N, R trains reads my metro card and lets me pass. However, this lady does not. She mumbles something at me that I could not make out. So I just walk away toward my train. She follows me, repeats her inaudible utterance toward me. What do I do? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The only sensible thing. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I yell in her face, "WHAT?!" and run.  She surprisingly follows me. I stop running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She gets in my face and yells at me for yelling at her. She starts telling me a sob story and how all she needs is some help. “Don’t you feel guilty now?” she asks. “Um, no.” I reply. As she doesn’t walk away I begin to realize oh this is some sort of attempted  mugging.  And that’s the thing, being mugged by a woman takes forever.  There is so much talking. I learn this woman’s whole life story, she’s a few months pregnant and from South Boston. She was on her way to her one year old's &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;birthday party, (So I guess she’s having Irish twins.) &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sadly, now she's lost. Someone took her money and her purse. She wants to know how would I like it If she took my bag and money. I’m like are trying to mug me or are we breaking up. I inform her I have no money, so good luck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She takes a fighting stance of sorts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Before we could go fist-a-cuffs, my 6ft tall boyfriend stepped in between us.  (Sorry I didn't mention him earlier, but I was very preoccupied with the turnstile.  Just know that due to our co-dependent relationship I rarely go anywhere without him.). My assailant changes from excon to doctor Phil and asks my boyfriend Patrick, “What are you doing with her? You could do so much better.”  And I was like, “Thank you. I knew my mother was wrong about him, he &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a catch.  I can’t wait to shove the opinion of a crack head in her face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;This five foot four substance abuser will not be deterred from getting the money she thinks I have.  She tries to get at me by going around my boyfriend. So I put up my fists. And she starts criticizing my fighting stance. “What are you doing? You don’t even know how to fight? You got to put your hands up like this." Rocky Marciano proceeds to bring her hands so far up that her elbows are by her chin and her forearms are completely blocking her vision.  I saw my moment, &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; to diffuse the situation, but to prove that it is &lt;i&gt;she&lt;/i&gt; who has the stupid fighting stance.  I reached around my boyfriend and pushed her hands in her face.  “She screams I’m pregnant I’m pregnant. Everyone down here heard me tell you that before. You hit a pregnant woman.”  I think she was trying to scare me into believing she was going to sue me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;"Um.  You don’t know my name. And well,  I think you’d be better off suing your crack dealer. He probably has more assets." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Now, &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;here’s where I screw-up. Instead of running out of the subway station I run down the stairs toward a train. Why? Because I don’t want to have to pay an extra $2.25 to get back into the subway. She chases us down the stairs and onto the train. Patrick again stands between us where she then starts trying to coax me to fight her. “You’re\a such a coward? You’re sucha pussy you have to hide behind your boyfriend?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;"Uh. This is actually the gender appropriate response. I'm a girl, I'm not supposed to have an ego so fragile as I can't walk away from a fight. You can’t emasculate me.  I was never born with testes."  These thoughts just lead to horrible feelings of guilt on my part. Am I setting the woman’s movement back 30 years by not kicking her ass? Or maybe all that violence is the problem with men. Is that really fair to say that men are violent? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Isn't that gender stereo-typing?  I mean who is really fighting in American anyway these days? You know with all the obesity.  This woman should be proud she can actually lift her hands that far above her shoulders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;As we ride in the complete opposite direction from my home she keeps trying to grab my bag, and I’m like, "Look, lady! I’m not willing to spend an extra 2 dollars to get away from you. What kind of money do you think I have?  She’s trying to kick me despite Patrick being in her way.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She sticks a hypodermic needle in his face.  The train gets above ground at Queens Boro Plaza.  I grab my cell phone and call the cops.  As I’m on the phone repeating “Queens Boro Plaza” again and again to the 911 operator the drug addict mom runs off the train. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;And of course through this whole saga of running, being chased, screaming to onlookers, "She's terrorizing me! She's terrorizing me," and the harassment by one crazy bitch, not one new Yorker did anything. No one even bothers to whip out their cell phones and video tape it. I mean that could have been my big break, a viral You Tube video. I could have been a guest on the &lt;u&gt;Today Show&lt;/u&gt; or &lt;u&gt;Letterman.&lt;/u&gt; They would have introduced me to America as the girl who wouldn’t spend an extra 2dollars and 25 cents to save her own life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3126666505407259577?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3126666505407259577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3126666505407259577&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3126666505407259577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3126666505407259577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/09/two-twenty-five-is-lot-for-some-people.html' title='Two Twenty Five is a lot for Some People'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4984574522830671683</id><published>2011-07-18T23:51:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T14:12:12.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>trophies are only important to parents</title><content type='html'>A month or so back there was a little league game.   This little league game was a blowout. One side was kicking the tiny asses of the other side.  At one point an umpire called a kid from the ass kicking team out at first base--supposedly, the kid was safe by a figurative mile. When the umpire was asked (or more likely harassed by parents) about his call he replied, "I was trying to even things out."   The parents in the stand for the ass kicking team were completely up in arms. The parents so blinded by their rage, totally overlooked the fact the umpire clearly lied.  The umpire just wanted to go home. Umpires get paid by the game not the hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow this story made it's way from the little league field to my parents' dinner table. Yes, my parents, who are not grandparents, whose only child is a 30 something woman were discussing this little league. My parents who don't watch professional sports never mind little league games were nearly as livid as those parents. "This is the problem with this country. The kids are coddled. 'They're' killing competition. No one's feelings can get hurt anymore."  Is that what this was about? I mean, one team did get to win, and win by a large margin. What about the lesson of compassion and being a good winner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EWxGhzv77KY/TkqwMOUG63I/AAAAAAAAA1w/rFGget_dSM4/s1600/spaniel%2Bpuppy.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EWxGhzv77KY/TkqwMOUG63I/AAAAAAAAA1w/rFGget_dSM4/s320/spaniel%2Bpuppy.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641515207282322290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those little league parents (or my own parents for that matter) saw a little springer spaniel puppy on the street and she seemed hungry would they just pass the adorable puppy with the sad, droopy eyes. "Suck it puppy. Learn to fend for yourself. It's Darwinism. Only the strong shall survive. You can't find food on your own. You are loser, puppy. " And the springer spaniel comes over to you slowly because it's so hungry and tries to lick your face because it's a springer spaniel it loves everyone. And those parents would respond, "Get away, springer spaniel! I'm trying to hurt your feelings and make you a tough self-reliant citizen. I want you to be cut throat. When you see a pregnant dog on the subway don't give up your seat.  That fat bitch should have moved faster or worked harder so she could afford a cab." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I wonder if these heartless parents realize how unimportant sports is in the lives of children.  I played soccer, softball, and basketball as a kid before I ever entered high school. I might remember three coaches I had in that time. The remember snippets of a handful of games, though not the outcome of a single one. What I do remember from childhood is trying to convince one of the girls who lived on my block that the baby powder that I had put in a small container was cocaine.  Yes, at 10 years of age me and a couple of other kids wanted to trick our other neighbor we were doing coke. Sadly, for us she never believed us. That was the same girl we tried getting to jump out of the second floor window she used to lean out of to talk to us. She almost did, but because we had compassion and really didn't understand the principles of "survival of the fittest" we said, "No. No. No! We were just kidding." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I really just think the umpire wanted to go home. Stop picking on puppies and less than smart neighborhood kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4984574522830671683?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4984574522830671683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4984574522830671683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4984574522830671683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4984574522830671683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/07/trophies-are-only-important-to-parents.html' title='trophies are only important to parents'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EWxGhzv77KY/TkqwMOUG63I/AAAAAAAAA1w/rFGget_dSM4/s72-c/spaniel%2Bpuppy.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7499135309389936381</id><published>2011-07-18T23:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T23:51:10.378-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smallhands Ick Logic'/><title type='text'>Some Advice for Overseas</title><content type='html'>If you haven't heard the country of Greece has a debt crisis. So Greece in an effort to pay back their loans is trying to cut spending. I say to Greece, "Why?" Be like the million of Americans and just default. What's the worst that could happen? Will Greece's wages be garnished? Of course not no one works to have wages to be garnished. You can't put a whole country in debtors prison. Are some bond holders going to reposses your car? No, they didn't lend you money to buy a car. Greece, just go on as if nothing happened. And don't answer the phone when you get a call from a number you don't recogonize or a "restricted number" don't answer. It's been working for college students for generations why not for one of the oldest civilizations in the world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7499135309389936381?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7499135309389936381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7499135309389936381&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7499135309389936381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7499135309389936381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/07/some-advice-for-overseas.html' title='Some Advice for Overseas'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5086394694971312784</id><published>2011-07-17T23:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T23:51:24.630-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smallhands Ick Logic'/><title type='text'>The Wrong Strategy</title><content type='html'>Congratulations to Japan's women's soccer team. Sure the Japanese women played a good game, but really the American ladies gave the game away. The never instituted the Puppy Offense. Yes, the Puppy Offence, a well know though seldom used formation that can be very effective against the right opponent. Germany of course would not be the right opponent. However, Japan has that particular weakness that is vulnerable to the Puppy Offense. The Japanese are obsessed with all things cute. So if the Americans had armed their bench players with adorable, little, cuddley, puppies and then at the precise moment bumrushed the sidelines waving the puppies over their heads, well the Japanese women would have had no choice but to gawfaw over the puppies. Distracted by cuteness the Americans would have scored easily, several times perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To protect your own team from the use of the Puppy Offense you make sure the team spends at least a week caring for the puppies. The Americans have to walk the dogs 4 times a day, feed them, play with them, nurture them and sometimes clean up their doggy mess by the time the game rolled around the Americans would have been "so over" those little shit machines and therefore immune to their cuteness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When playing the Germans you just have to say, (in German of course) "Ooo. Look. The French!" And watch the ladies run off the field to invade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5086394694971312784?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5086394694971312784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5086394694971312784&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5086394694971312784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5086394694971312784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/07/wrong-strategy.html' title='The Wrong Strategy'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6362490287781558601</id><published>2011-06-27T08:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T09:10:26.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Keep it Right Here</title><content type='html'>So, last week we discussed the (OK, fine I had the discussion with 3 people in the internet ether.) attitudes of the people over 55. Today we stay on this topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only do people, of advanced ages, think the world is going to hell, they also think today's youth is soft. The examples frequently cited are how they all get trophies without regard to actual performance, bullying is now against the law, the kids are all medicated, etc etc. I wonder if their grandparents had the same complaints. "Look at these kids today, they live in apartment building with either hardwood floors or carpets. In my day we had to fight the Cherokee for our land, then kill a bunch of buffalo for food, clothes and use their bones to make a home. We slept on dirt floors next to all types of vermin. These little pansies go to go school all day. How does easy living in a school prepare someone for citizenship? You got to either till the land from dawn to dusk or lose half your digits in a factory, that's the way to build character. Do you see how now they got this thing air conditioning? Death by heat just thins out the heard, kills off the weak. Now we’re going to have all these lesser people walking around sucking up resources the rest of us could be using. I'll tell you, these children born past 1938 are soft. I pray for the future of this country."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying, suffering doesn't make you a better person it just makes you suffer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6362490287781558601?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6362490287781558601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6362490287781558601&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6362490287781558601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6362490287781558601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/06/lets-keep-it-right-here.html' title='Let&apos;s Keep it Right Here'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5175776464171725382</id><published>2011-06-22T11:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T11:40:07.558-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Inverse Age Hypothesis: Caring</title><content type='html'>Why is it the older a person is the more the seem to care that the world is going to shit?  The older you are the less years you have left on the planet.  What do you care about what happens to the world? You'll be dead in few years anyway.  Older Americans like to say things similar to, "Ahh. no one speaks English anymore." I respond, "So? In 6 months your dementia will be full blown. You won't be able to understand any language."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, people in their early 20s don't seem to bothered by the direction their world is taking despite having 6 more decades to live through.* You tell them about nuclear waste leaking from corroding pipes into the bay and they respond, "Bummer. You know what?  Fast and Furious 6 is coming out next week. I'm so excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*exception to this rule is when they are being drafted into a war.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5175776464171725382?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5175776464171725382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5175776464171725382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5175776464171725382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5175776464171725382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/06/inverse-age-hypothesis-caring.html' title='The Inverse Age Hypothesis: Caring'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1940502319321485632</id><published>2011-06-20T09:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T09:52:40.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been Awhile.  It's Time to Contribute More Chatter Into the Void</title><content type='html'>The politicians from NY State are at it again, more digital sending of what are supposed to be sexy pictures to random strangers found on the internet.  I am not concerned about taking time out of my day to write on this subject because I'm sure Anthony Wiener will not be the last politician to "sext" so any funny I come up with I'll be able to use again down the line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sure this isn't the last we'll see of this stupidity because the technology will continue to exist. Politicians could never do this kind of thing in the past. Think about how time consuming it would be to send a revealing picture of yourself in the 1800s.  First, you'd have to hire a sketch artist, preferably some who works with charcoal. Next, you have to find time in your day to pose for the artist and god forbid the temperature in the room changes you'll have to start all over again.  After you get your drawing done you have to send your assistant down to the pony express office and mail your drawing. The drawing would be addressed to "First 19 year old girl you see in the main square, Wichita, Kansas."  If you want to send more than one you have to do the whole thing over again it could take months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the sexually free Ancient Greeks couldn't really do this. A Greek senator would have go up to random women and ask them back to a cave to see some shadow puppets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1940502319321485632?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1940502319321485632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1940502319321485632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1940502319321485632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1940502319321485632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-been-awhile-its-time-to-contribute.html' title='It&apos;s Been Awhile.  It&apos;s Time to Contribute More Chatter Into the Void'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8406586562461547079</id><published>2011-04-05T23:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T23:48:18.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Get It!</title><content type='html'>So for years I've been very against these wars in the Middle East.  It's clear they are for oil. I don't care about oil. I have a bike, I have two working feet.  Granted without oil I couldn't travel internationally or across the country, but I have Netflix and 8 seasons of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Monk  &lt;/span&gt;I can stream for years and year of enrichment and enjoyment. We have plenty of coal and natural gas right here in the USA to keep my computer and wireless router running for as long as need to stream Netflix videos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my mind set. I thought only evil sociopaths like Dick Cheney were for oil wars. I couldn't sympathize with these war hawks. But then everything went nuts in the Ivory Coast.  The chocolate supply chain has been ruptured. Chocolate prices will soon reach record heights. Why did it take the UN so long to go in and stabilize the region. People were suffering. A man refused to acknowledge he lost re-election.  And I need my chocolate at affordable prices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure if we can spend billions of dollars to keep oil prices down why can't we spend billions to free chocolate producing countries from tyranny as well?  Women everywhere will be grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8406586562461547079?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8406586562461547079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8406586562461547079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8406586562461547079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8406586562461547079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-get-it.html' title='I Get It!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-688270561335944997</id><published>2011-04-04T23:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T23:38:50.008-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Don't Do It!</title><content type='html'>No today's blog title is not missing a comma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen folks if you are the fence about whether or not to have children show yourself some tough love.  Find a movie theater showing "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" the sequel and go watch it.  If after sitting through that movie you think you still want kids, now with the knowledge of what kind of movies you'll be spending top dollar to sit through year after preteen year, then you never were really on the fence about kids at all. And may I suggest becoming Amish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of you.  You are welcome. Having kids isn't all it's cracked up to be.  It's filled with plot-less movies with bad acting and bad cinematography. I never knew I could notice the way a movie was shot.  Let that movie be a lesson to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-688270561335944997?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/688270561335944997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=688270561335944997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/688270561335944997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/688270561335944997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/04/kids-dont-do-it.html' title='Kids Don&apos;t Do It!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-916783885790046972</id><published>2011-03-30T01:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T01:42:00.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Religious Beliefs Hiding out in the Empty Closet</title><content type='html'>For all you Atheists out there let me give you some advice. Don't go telling people you're an atheist.  It's all very simple. If you tell people you're an atheist and then random fate forbid something bad happens to a person you know (examples, cancer, car crash, death of a spouse etc.) what do you say to them. Non-atheist (including the non-committal spiritualists and Universal Unitarians) can say my thoughts and prayers are with you.  What are you going to say my thoughts are with you? What are you some sort of obsessed stalker? That's not comforting. Or is that your thoughts have magical powers? So you don't believe in god but you believe in super powers. No way. It's not going to fly.  You could try saying "I know everything is going to work out for the best." How do you know? Is god talking to you? If god is, you sure aren't listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No man if you just keep your mouth shut about the idea of god making absolutely no sense, then you get to say, "My thoughts and prayers are with you." Not only does it seem caring and solemn. It also seems like you're taking action on behalf the injured. Otherwise you spend your day baking brownies and making gift baskets, which will be resented because of the high calorie count. And while your diligently baking and curling ribbons those Deists are done and putting extra time in the office kissing way more of the boss's ass and making that promotion happen for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really is just better to lie and say the polite socially acceptable thing. It's not like some god is going to smote you for lying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-916783885790046972?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/916783885790046972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=916783885790046972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/916783885790046972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/916783885790046972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/03/religious-beliefs-hiding-out-in-empty.html' title='Religious Beliefs Hiding out in the Empty Closet'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1034028866890942588</id><published>2011-03-29T01:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T01:28:00.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do We Have To Do this Crap?</title><content type='html'>I was thinking why doesn't ExxonMobile, Sunnaco, BP, and Shell form their own allied coalition and bomb Libya and Iraq themselves?  With their revenues I'm sure they could afford a handful of fighter jets.  They can hire hire their own soldiers. The use of the American military as a middle man really isn't very efficient. All the money wasted on lobbyists to garner support for these military operations is just one example. Then you have to deal with all the care that America tries to take to avoid civilian causalities.  Dude oil companies just have stock holders to answer to. They don't have bleeding heart cry baby humanitarians in their constituency. Hell they don't even have a constituency.  Further, the American Soldier costs a lot of money. Why pay high first world wages when you can get cheap Chinese , Bangladeshi, and or Vietnamese labor to fight your war?  This way you can have all the gay or straight soldiers you want. As many women as you want in your army and even children. The usefulness of children has really been lost to history and the early industrial revolution.  And you don't have to worry about those guys unionizing. Could you imagine unionized mercenaries?  I have to admit that would be kind of cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This corporate war works out for those Americans who aren't interested in paying for these wars. All you have to do is not drive car. Just ride a bike or skate everywhere. That's got be a great trip rollerskating across America. It will probably take you a few days, but coasting up and down the Grand Tetons has got to be a ride of a life time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1034028866890942588?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1034028866890942588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1034028866890942588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1034028866890942588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1034028866890942588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/03/why-do-we-have-to-do-this-crap.html' title='Why Do We Have To Do this Crap?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-404895418591321311</id><published>2011-03-28T17:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T17:28:12.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A different Definition</title><content type='html'>My boyfriend says he has ADD I think he's just a Gemini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to my aunt the other day and she was talking about her tendencies to impulsively shop. Her in ability to throw out things she never uses, and I noticed she wasn't much for listening to other people complete their thoughts while she is engaged in conversation with them.  I was like wow, my boyfriend has these traits, could my aunt have ADD?   Then I remembered my aunt is a home owner her ran her own business for forty years she can't possibly have attention deficit disorder. That's when I remembered my boyfriend and my aunt had birthdays in the same week.  These must be traits of Geminis. Case solved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-404895418591321311?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/404895418591321311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=404895418591321311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/404895418591321311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/404895418591321311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-definition.html' title='A different Definition'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-9163328770161003753</id><published>2011-03-18T10:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T10:17:29.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spec Commercial</title><content type='html'>In these hard economic times I'm thinking of changing professions. I thought maybe I could venture into the world of Advertising. I present to you my faithful readers my spec ad campaign, well not a campaign just a commercial, and not really spec this is just the idea, I'm not going out and shooting this thing. Don't let my lack of work ethic on this project dissuade from my committment to a career in advertising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The product: Desenex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use: Cures Athlete's foot and Jock Itch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The commercial will be a jingle type of commercial as well as a song parody. The music will be from "Venus" the song made popular for my generation by Bananarama.  For those not familiar with the song I have included the music video at the end of this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening shot a man at the beach swimming in the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ladies sing,&lt;br /&gt;"You went swimming in the ocean all day/ Your trunks never dried don't dismay"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to the Ladies dancing with their backs to us but their heads turned to the camera as they sing,&lt;br /&gt;"We've got it, ooo baby we've got it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then crotch shot of a man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm your penis/ I'm on fire/cure from this mire"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ladies spin round and we see they are holding canisters of Desenex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pitch man's voice speaks over the scene,&lt;br /&gt;"Desenex extinquishes penis fires."  (that aren't viral or bacterial...just fungal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JH3WvI_S6-k" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-9163328770161003753?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/9163328770161003753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=9163328770161003753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9163328770161003753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9163328770161003753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/03/spec-commercial.html' title='Spec Commercial'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/JH3WvI_S6-k/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7854910944830702610</id><published>2011-03-14T14:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T16:20:56.569-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Abbra Ca Dabbra: Magic.</title><content type='html'>I'm a lost soul wandering the earth, mostly from room to room in my apartment (that is the cheapest way to wander and of course it exposes you to a minimal amount weather.) I thought it was time to find some direction. Perhaps, out of my door onto the streets, maybe even a place where people would pay me money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I found I couldn't leave.  From my research, which encompassed watching TV and listening to the radio, I learned things are crazy out there.  All you have to do to succeed is keep telling yourself you'll be successful. All you have to do to get an enemy shot is just use words that evoke violent images.  The whole time you're saying things to change the environment you won't be paying attention and you'll get hit by a bus. If you're knocked unconscious or knocked dead you won't be able to say anything to change your predicament. You'd have to hope a doctor knew enough to state that you'll recover. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No no no. Having direction is very dangerous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7854910944830702610?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7854910944830702610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7854910944830702610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7854910944830702610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7854910944830702610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/03/abbra-ca-dabbra-magic.html' title='Abbra Ca Dabbra: Magic.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7883133696322153882</id><published>2011-02-28T13:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T14:01:39.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hodge Podge</title><content type='html'>I'm scared I made a terrible mistake. I planned a trip out of the country during the time period my internet astrologist wrote,  "career opportunities will come my way."  I can't believe I've yet again self-sabotaged my career like this. Let us hope there is big time entertainment industry in Peru at the Top of Machu Picchu, or at least an agent on the plane.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the country seems to have declared wars on teachers. I don't think this really had to do with the budget or unions, I think we hate teachers. It's their own fault really. If they weren't so yelly and demanding while we were in school we probably wouldn't hate them so much.  How many of you actually liked being forced to go to school 180 days a year? Exactly, not even the ones who are smart and got good jobs. Of course we think they're stupid and inept they were at school all day for years and years. They only reason we were there was because we were forced to by the government. What kind of an idiot would choose to go to school past 12th grade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't hear so much hub bub over the police and we hate them too. What with them writing us tickets and cheating on their wives. The difference is they have guns. I'm thinking teachers need to get guns. Not only will they get to keep their collective bargaining, but they might actually get the kids to shut-up and learn something.&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the "Kings Speech" won four Oscars and not the stupid ones, like sound design that no one cares about. It won best lead male actor, best picture, best screenplay, and best director who looks like Jams Cameron.  The movie was good and all but we need to ban these back stabby Britts from our award show.  I once was in London during the Oscars and I think the "English Patient" won a bunch of awards. All their British papers were so braggy about how awesome Brittish film making is. How superior they are. Sorry that you put all your countries resources into making one film while we make 1 billion films a year. And then the ones who were born over there but live here in the USA they all smile and act polite but that's just to get us to pick up their bar tab and pay for dinner. I read  &lt;em&gt;Bonfire of the Vanities. &lt;/em&gt;I know how much they truly loathe us and here we are giving them Oscars and the good Oscars at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let me tell you something you cheap elitist bastards.  Harvey Weinstein, an American (A Jewish one at that), distributed your movie.  That's right if it weren't for the Yank you'd have to be all Ani Difranco. Going from town to town living out of your car and screening the movie one half filled coffee house at a time. And can you guys make a movie that takes place in the present?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7883133696322153882?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7883133696322153882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7883133696322153882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7883133696322153882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7883133696322153882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/hodge-podge.html' title='Hodge Podge'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1660474872073708798</id><published>2011-02-24T16:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T19:37:00.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Boss Doesn't Pay Me Anything, But She's Awesome.</title><content type='html'>Now, I know most of my readers are not comedians, so let me fill you in on something. There have been a number of comedians over the past couple of years who would send out mass emails to other comedians, and, I guess, their fans (and by fans I mean people who's email addresses they found and put in their contacts list for mass mailing occasions.) bragging about how they have an article or essay on the Huffington Post. My response whoopidy doo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These mailings and facebook updates confused me. Was I supposed to be impressed that these people were able to give their writings away for free? I do that everyweek and at one point every week day. The big difference is that I'm not working for Arrianna Huffinton (who I'm sure would make me spell her name correctly).  I'm working for me. And yes, I don't pay myself. But I know me, and I'm a pretty cool person. Yes, I do have a temper, but I'm always there for me and I know that if I sell my blog for $100 million (it could happen...maybe...shut-up) I know that I'll pay myself a good percentage of the proceeds for all the hard work I've done on my blog. That's just the type of girl I am. In fact I'd make sure to pay at least something to everyone who has ever contributed to this blog. And if you are a person who has edited things on occassion (clearly not often. This thing is pretty typo laden and grammatically unsound) or...well...that's it I guess I'll totally pay you. Of course if you're a person who isn't good at returning emails and phone calls you won't get to cash in. (these last two sentences were kind of an inside joke between me and my boss.  She's had some unattentive friends in the past, oh just never mind I'm sure to get a bonus for writing it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end just because more people may read your work doesn't mean you're getting paid any better than those in complete obscurity. And, you sure are not getting treated any better by management.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1660474872073708798?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1660474872073708798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1660474872073708798&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1660474872073708798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1660474872073708798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-boss-doesnt-pay-me-anything-but-shes.html' title='My Boss Doesn&apos;t Pay Me Anything, But She&apos;s Awesome.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3120712602501737653</id><published>2011-02-23T14:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T19:43:11.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Roaring 20s,</title><content type='html'>Has it occurred to any of you young wipper snappers that you and grandma have something in common? Happy Hour.&lt;br /&gt;Happy hour is the perfect bar promotion for people who have eaten dinner at 3:30pm and now want to go out on the town. Bar owners set pricses for happy hour just right for those on a fixed income. It allows you to get your drunk on and be home in time for a rerun of Monk or Matlock. And, for those who think "Ahh there's nothing good on TV anyway," you can be on your way home before dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am saying is that happy hour is the drinker's early bird special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3120712602501737653?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3120712602501737653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3120712602501737653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3120712602501737653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3120712602501737653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/roaring-20s.html' title='The Roaring 20s,'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3538065891688430948</id><published>2011-02-14T11:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T19:55:08.182-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Stupid Questions from HR</title><content type='html'>"What do You Want Me to Say?" a play in one act or one blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;Setting:&lt;br /&gt;A conference room on the 21st floor of a Manhattan office building. Present day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cast of Characters:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;ME&lt;/span&gt;, 33 year old former theatre student and sometimes comedian with a wealth of administrative and executive assistant experience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;HR CHICK&lt;/span&gt;, 20 something blonde (fake or real) she is perky and full of judgement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;HR CHICK: So are you comfortable with Word, Excel and Powerpoint?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Yes. I feel like every job I have had-- with all those other financial companies listed on my resume in front of you-- I learn even more more and more especially about excel. I'll admit that my visual skills aren't the greatest but I can do powerpoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR CHICK: And you really want to be an administrative assistant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(lighting change to special above ME dark on the rest of the scene)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME (aside to audience): What? Is she serious? Who grows up dreaming of administrative work? It says I have BFA in theater on that resume. Clearly, I chose theater because I wanted to either wait tables, bartend, or be a secretary. Actually, what I really wanted to do with my life is work in a coal mine. But there isn't much coal work in NYC these days. I figured the next closest thing was answering phones and scheduling meetings in a cube. Does she think this is 1920 and as a woman I just want a job that isn't in embroidery. I'll prove my independence and self worth. 'If I'm going to take care of a man for the rest of my life I'm going to get paid for it, gosh darn it. Go Rosie the Rivetter even if you're after my time.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(lights go back to full)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;ME (To HR): Yes, definitely want to be an administrative assistant. I love organizing, putting things in order, making schedules.  This is where my strengths lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR CHICK: Oh great. Yes, and just to let you know there will be a background check, a drug test and a credit check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Oh great. I'm glad you guys are so thorough. Good to know I won't be working alongside any car thieves or pot heads. I think it's very important that one's employer keeps tabs on their employees' private lives away from work. We can't have middle class people, which if I get this job I think I might actually be, galavanting around the city running their own lives after hours. That's just ridiculous. Look at me. I clearly wanted to be an administrative assistant since I'm a little girl, but left to my own, stupid devices I went and studied performing arts at an accredited (granted just barely) four year college in Boston. Instead of going to Berkley School of Business, a two year school in my home state of NJ. If only I worked for you guys when I was 17 think about how much...well not better... that's not the word...what's the word? More efficient, yeah more efficient my life would have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR CHICK: Hmm. I don't know...hmm...I don't know that's why we do it. Umm. What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Well, then I take it back. Whatever the right answer is that's what I want to say. I like paying my rent and health insurance sounds pretty great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR CHICK:&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;No. Wait, don't you have passion for working at this particular company?&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ME: Of course I read all about you online. You guys manage wealthy people's money and facilitate mergers and acquisitions. It's amazing work. I believe that Goldman Sachs said it was god's work, and though I respect Goldman Sachs I much prefer to work with a company that is a little less well known like yours. I do love indie Rock and you guys are like an indie rock financial firm.&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR CHICK: No. That's not right. We are well known and respected in the industry.&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ME: Yes of course a critics favorite. Like Vampire Weekend, they are well known and very well respected, but not as well known as say Metallica or Taylor Swift but Vampire Weekend gets way better press than those two bands.&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;HR CHICK: Yeah, OK well thank you for coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Well, thank you for having me come in. Thank you for barely asking me anything about my experience or my actual skills. That's so predictable at an interview. You guys are mavericks, in the most conservative sense.&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;curtain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/11942972-3538065891688430948?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3538065891688430948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3538065891688430948&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3538065891688430948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3538065891688430948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/more-stupid-questions-from-hr.html' title='More Stupid Questions from HR'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-382026252049993559</id><published>2011-02-08T23:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T23:21:06.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>House Republicans are Communists. They Have a Bolshevic Agenda</title><content type='html'>It has been falsely reported that the Republican Party is the party of the rich. Oh contraire. In fact the Republicans are Marxists and are doing all they can to bring about a people's revolution right in here in the US of A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the Republicans gained the majority in the House of Representatives they have been running rampant with their communist agenda. First, they tried emptying the treasury with crazy tax cuts to very rich people. This is to ensure there will be no money for social programs. "Wait," you say, "social programs are communistic." Oh, no they are not social programs were enacted by FDR to fight communism, too many poor and starving people get antsy. Next, the Republicans are trying to ensure that no insurance company will cover abortion on any of the health insurance plans they offer. This is really going to set the ball in motion for a revolution. So basically, the only women who can afford abortions are the rich ones or the ones who have been impregnated by wealthy men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you'll have all these poor people (who aren't going to abstain from sex, you might as well ask a woman to abstain from eating chocolate) getting pregnant and having the babies. Either they'll give the babies up for adoption, where the children will be reared by nuns of the orphanage, or they'll be raised by their own destitute parents. Since eventually food stamps and public schooling will be a thing of the past they'll have nothing to feed these kids and nowhere to send them. Crime will soar. People will be disenfranchised and miserable. Sounds like the turn of the century Russia to me. Next thing you know a few, highly-educated, formerly rich people who idiotically thought they could become professors or artists or something interesting that doesn't involve hedge funds will lead the uneducated starving masses in a communist revolt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new Bolsheviks will drop the iron curtain because they couldn't make a living behind a nylon one bam Communism sweeps the nation. Those Republicans are sneaky. If you want to avoid communism you must pay for all abortions all the time. Right now the federal government doesn't pay for abortions directly. Only communists and Muslim extremists are anti-abortion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically Republicans either want a communist revolution or they really want to adopt a white baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**remember if your insurance provider doesn’t cover abortions and you can’t afford to pay for one just continue to sleep with men your family doesn’t approve of. They’ll find the money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-382026252049993559?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/382026252049993559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=382026252049993559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/382026252049993559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/382026252049993559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/house-republicans-are-communists-they.html' title='House Republicans are Communists. They Have a Bolshevic Agenda'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4011771007638614810</id><published>2011-02-08T13:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T14:07:54.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Call Your Congress Person</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know I live in a Caribbean American neighborhood. By observation I'd say that 90 percent of the people living in my neighborhood are from the Caribbean. I have to write that I have found my neighbors to be quite polite and friendly. But for some reason or another many of the take restaurants don't seem to want to serve white folks. I hear'em. I also hate white people. Well, not all white people. Just the white people I know. I also hate the black people I know, which probably why I get along with my neighbors don't really know them. One can't be disappointed by someone who you hold no expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the point. The point is that I suggest that the owners and workers of these food establishments form a coalition and petition the government. The Flatbush Food Workers and Owners Coalition. And what do they want? Simple, they want government to provide job opportunities for white people. It’s clear too many white people can’t afford to live with their own kind and so they’re moving to Flatbush. Not only that, they have the temerity to want to buy jerk chicken or fast food Chinese food blocks from their apartment. What about the members of FFWOC? They don’t want to serve these folks. They don’t want to have to take their money. It’s not fair. FFWOC would also the government to set aside funds for the express purpose of art grants, mostly for music. Help fund musicians who enjoy playing rock and roll, electronica, world music, and whatever else those white people play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The FFWOC needs these white people empowered and economically able to afford to live somewhere else--someplace where they can patronize white people food places, like Thai restaurants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4011771007638614810?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4011771007638614810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4011771007638614810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4011771007638614810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4011771007638614810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/02/call-your-congress-person.html' title='Call Your Congress Person'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3961094297989144149</id><published>2011-01-27T13:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T13:37:35.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Answer that Socially Toxic Question</title><content type='html'>I have decided next time a performer colleague-type, whom I haven't seen in awhile, asks me what I have been up to I will answer, "I just got out of coke rehab." It is a better answer than "not much." Or "I don't know. My life is shit." Admitting to having a coke problem I never had makes me seem like I'm real artist, someone it wasn't scared to go to the edge, someone who was self-destructive like all the great comedians or at least Sam Kinison. Also being in rehab serves as great excuse of why they haven't seen me and why I don't have monetary success, it's not that I got burnt out and fed up with working really hard for little reward. No, of course not. I of course couldn't get on comedian central if I'm cloistered away in a hospital getting my life together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think "coke rehab" also a good answer at a job interview. The prospective employer comments, "I see there is the gap in your resume. Can you explain what you were doing during that time?" "I was in rehab." That's a way better answer than the truth, "Um. I don't know if you realized but there has been a recession for the past 3 years. I mean technically we're not in it anymore but unemployment rates are still at 10%. I never really thought of myself as joiner, but this unemployment club seemed like a cool group of folks, so I said why not. But then I don't know. I guess I got hungry so I figured I'd see if I could earn money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also when grandma asks why you haven’t come to see her. Just say, "Aw grandma you remember, I had that horrible drug problem, I was in coke rehab. You remember how grandpa was such a drunk? Well I wanted to do better than my parents and grandparents generation so really worked hard so I could afford a way better drug, and I did it grandma, but now, well I'm clean and sober."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3961094297989144149?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3961094297989144149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3961094297989144149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3961094297989144149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3961094297989144149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/ill-answer-that-socially-toxic-question.html' title='I&apos;ll Answer that Socially Toxic Question'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1668112042015297378</id><published>2011-01-24T13:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T13:20:18.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Artistic Intentions</title><content type='html'>This weekend I cleaned my apartment. To aide me in this endeavor I played some music. As I was rocking the soft scrub, the rubber gloves and sponge I wondered is this how Guns and Roses intended their music to be listened to. While Axle Rose and the boys were in the recording studio were they thinking, "Man, this album is going to rock. It's get help motivate people to mop their kitchen floor. We are so bad ass."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1668112042015297378?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1668112042015297378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1668112042015297378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1668112042015297378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1668112042015297378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/artistic-intentions.html' title='Artistic Intentions'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4197804439990707498</id><published>2011-01-21T02:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T02:28:00.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Earlier Risers Catch the Worm and Avoid the Labels</title><content type='html'>I think it's ridiculous that if you have a drink during a week day you'll be labeled an alcoholic.  I get it. If you are drinking alcohol from the time you get up in the morning until the time you go to bed everyday or most days that could be a sign of a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what if the only time you really could fit in a drink is 11am on a Wednesday. Perhaps you bought a Strongbow hard cider a few weeks back and all it's been doing is sitting in your fridge wanting to be imbibed? Now, you've thought of drinking after sundown when you got home from your evening's activities, but when you get home it's too late to sit down and have a big can of cider. You want to go to bed. And you don't want to be awoken in the middle of the night by pressure on your bladder. Or maybe when you get home you get caught in a conversation with your roommate and you forget to have drink it. Or you had a bunch of pineapple juice and seltzers during the early evening hours and now the thought of having a sweet drink at 11:00pm seems sickening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drinking at 11am you get your buzz on, peeing doesn't ruin a good night's sleep and by the time you have something important to do you're already sobered up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4197804439990707498?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4197804439990707498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4197804439990707498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4197804439990707498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4197804439990707498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/earlier-risers-catch-worm-and-avoid.html' title='Earlier Risers Catch the Worm and Avoid the Labels'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1368729375125104404</id><published>2011-01-20T14:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T14:28:35.335-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Just In: Task Force Arrests Wrong Criminals in Economy Debacle</title><content type='html'>Have you heard the news? The Feds, NJ State Police, NYC police, and some law enforcement group joined forces to arrest the mobsters and members of Mafia crime families. During the press conference a spokesperson for the joint task force mentioned the damage these mobsters did the economy. The spokesperson also mentioned scams these people pulled on citizens with low credit scores, and the siphoning of funds from labor unions.  Wait a minute. Does the US Attorney's office have the right guys? This sounds awfully like Wall Street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ruined the economy? Check&lt;br /&gt;2. Scammed citizens with low credit scores? Can you say subprime mortgages? Can you say mortgage backed securities?&lt;br /&gt;3. Injured labor unions? Well, if you think about how wall street sold state and city governments a bunch of worthless bonds for the past 2-3 decades, and how state and city government took pension funds that were marked for public sector workers who are all unionized, and now state coffers are empty and they can't pay the pensions to public employees, then I'd say, "check."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our only hope is that the US attorney's office picked up these mobsters on murder and drug charges in effort to get them to testify to the bankers they sell their cocaine to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1368729375125104404?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1368729375125104404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1368729375125104404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1368729375125104404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1368729375125104404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/this-just-in-task-force-arrests-wrong.html' title='This Just In: Task Force Arrests Wrong Criminals in Economy Debacle'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4619950718105507937</id><published>2011-01-20T14:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T14:11:36.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Roethlisberger Conundrum</title><content type='html'>This coming Sunday the Jets will play Steelers in the AFC championship game. I'm rooting for the Jets. Not because I'm a Jets fan or that I live in NYC, but because I want to see the rapey Roethlisberger go down. (I have heard hearsay evidence that Mark Sanchez's past isn't so clean either, but I'll wait to hold judgement until it gets national press.) I've mentioned this reasoning to several people throughout my travels. It seems that I'm the only woman out there without a rape fantasy. Ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, if your fantasizing about something then you want it and it can't be rape. Secondly, if I did have a rape fantasy it wouldn't be with Ben Roethlisberger, I'm Giants fan. And thirdly, I don't have rape fantasies. Maybe a cuddle fantasy with Ben Kingsley.  He's kind of small I guess I'd be spooning him. Would he be dressed as Ghandi? Or would he be dressed like the villian from &lt;em&gt;Sneakers&lt;/em&gt;, with that little, cute poney-tail?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4619950718105507937?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4619950718105507937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4619950718105507937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4619950718105507937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4619950718105507937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/roethlisberger-conundrum.html' title='The Roethlisberger Conundrum'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6993867561597170333</id><published>2011-01-17T12:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T12:37:30.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Older</title><content type='html'>I can feel old age creeping up on me. There are, in my elderly state I no longer have the energy to hover while using a public bathroom. That kind of thing would have never happened in my twenties. I have moments in my 30s where I'm just too tired and weak to care what might be on that toilet seat and how it may adversly effect me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6993867561597170333?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6993867561597170333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6993867561597170333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6993867561597170333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6993867561597170333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/getting-older.html' title='Getting Older'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-9028209942673133115</id><published>2011-01-14T14:38:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T15:02:51.918-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health and beauty'/><title type='text'>Be Beautiful Like the Chasm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zj6JV88c1Q0/TTCm4KZezLI/AAAAAAAAA1c/PqKaV625MzY/s1600/Photo%2B00038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562129023596678322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zj6JV88c1Q0/TTCm4KZezLI/AAAAAAAAA1c/PqKaV625MzY/s320/Photo%2B00038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zj6JV88c1Q0/TTCmgY8O_0I/AAAAAAAAA1U/gxN9bqGMSRA/s1600/Photo%2B00021.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right you too can have a beautiful body like the body of water rushing through the Ausable Chasm, NY. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Smallhands Ick scientists in our research and development department have hit upon a breakthrough in muscle development. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have better looking abs in three weeks without going to a gym.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the best part is it costs you nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cough your way to better looking abs. All you need is dirty tissue of a coworker or some reason to be in a public school and you can hack hack hack your way to abs of steel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No more having to find the will power to go to the gym. No need purchasing wacky inventions off late night infomercials. No expensive painful surgery. The best part is the more ice cream you eat the more phlegm your body creates to keep the cough going all day long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So don't waste the winter months in perfect health sitting on your butt waiting for the snow to melt. Start coughing today and by summer all your friends will be jealous of how great you look in that two piece. You'll have the body to match the beauty your summer vacation.&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/11942972-9028209942673133115?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/9028209942673133115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=9028209942673133115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9028209942673133115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9028209942673133115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/be-beautiful-like-chasm.html' title='Be Beautiful Like the Chasm'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zj6JV88c1Q0/TTCm4KZezLI/AAAAAAAAA1c/PqKaV625MzY/s72-c/Photo%2B00038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4847835561013326573</id><published>2011-01-13T11:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T11:55:49.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick and Tired of Being Sick</title><content type='html'>I've been sick for 3 weeks. Finally, today I feel like I'm on my way to true recovery. The whole ordeal was very demoralizing. This scares me, because if I can't  handle three weeks of the flu how the hell am I going to deal with cancer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, when you have cancer doctors hospitalize you at times, but that just means you get visitors.  When you have a head cold no one visits you. Everyone fears that they'll catch whatever it is you have.  With the flu no one tells you how brave you are that you even showed up to work.  They're just pissed you're going to get them sick.  “Well, I’d love to stay home guys, really I would but I’m a part time hourly worker, if I don’t show up I don’t get paid, and that Theraflu isn’t going to pay for itself is it.” When you have the flu you have to make your own soup, with cancer the hospital makes you the soup, but it's going to be uneatable.   I guess in the case of soup it's a wash. With the flu there are no nurses as you cough and cough and cough in the privacy of your own, lonely bedroom. No. It’s just you and your roommates who are keeping their distance as to not catch it. They trail behind you spraying Lysol.   The meds are milder with a respiratory infection, but you can't prescription for marijuana either. And I'll tell you what that day time child's Triaminic messed me up something fierce. I felt nauseas and edgy, I couldn't sleep.  Granted if I were in the hospital the Triaminic would have cost me $30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that my point is a bit muddle.  I think in the end it would be nice if people weren't so scared of the common cold and would come over and watch some play off football with you or something because you're too weak to go out. Maybe make you some matzo ball soup, so you don't have to summon the strength with two days of sleeping before you find the will to chop a carrot.  The visitors can wear a surgical mask, that's fine. Oh forget it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4847835561013326573?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4847835561013326573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4847835561013326573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4847835561013326573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4847835561013326573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2011/01/sick-and-tired-of-being-sick.html' title='Sick and Tired of Being Sick'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7214517943467393854</id><published>2010-12-23T14:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T15:01:16.821-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you're bored while traveling for the holiday</title><content type='html'>You can listen to this week's episode of the Football Laces Podcast. It was another loosey goosey episode. Look right and click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the feast of the 7 fishes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7214517943467393854?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7214517943467393854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7214517943467393854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7214517943467393854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7214517943467393854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/12/if-youre-bored-while-traveling-for.html' title='If you&apos;re bored while traveling for the holiday'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-2198762454790320643</id><published>2010-12-16T21:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T21:34:55.357-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aging</title><content type='html'>I'm getting older, you know? I'm at the age where I starting to wonder if Santa Claus is actually real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latest episode of football laces is posted. Look to you right and click.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-2198762454790320643?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/2198762454790320643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=2198762454790320643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2198762454790320643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2198762454790320643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/12/aging.html' title='Aging'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3215225668532087323</id><published>2010-12-15T13:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T13:32:11.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Bit of History Repeating</title><content type='html'>So yesterday I heard a report that Governor Patterson of NY is going to allow fracking in NY State. Fracking for those of you who don't know is a process for extracting natural gas from rock. The gas companies pour a punch of water and chemicals into the rock the pressure it causes pushes the natural gas out, which they capture, and sell to us. I might be wrong about this process a bit, but what I'm right about is that it has polluted water supplies in West Virginia and Pennsalvania among other states. There is a documentary out there that shows people being able to light their tap water on fire while it's pouring out of the faucet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of the story I heard about the Mayans. Supposedly, the ancient Mayan civilization had fallen on hard times.  Supposedly they had some powerful god who lived in the lake nearby or something like that. So the Mayans tried to appease the god with human sacrifices that they through into the lake. Unfortunately, the lake was also their water supply for their city.  The dead bodies polluted the water supply. I just wonder if back then there were a handful of enviromental Mayans complaining about dropping the sacrifices into the drinking water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen, high priest, we have to throw the virgins somewhere else the water is killing more of then the sacrifices are saving."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh shut up hippie. This is about jobs. We need jobs, we need favor from the gods.  We need our fortunes to change."&lt;br /&gt;"I agree things suck but this just making things worse, everyone is throwing up."&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have any proof that it's the water? We just have to kill more virgins and throw more of them in the drinking water."&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I don't have proof. Mankind won't know about bacteria for hundreds of years. But I have to say that the gods probably wouldn't have dead bodies smell so badly if they wanted us to keep them near us after death. Right?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm the priest here, shut up."&lt;br /&gt;"You shut up you facist."&lt;br /&gt;"At least i'm not a socialist."&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah if you were a socialist you'd care about the water."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, definitely the Soviet Union had a great environmental record."&lt;br /&gt;"Fuck you priest. They were communists."&lt;br /&gt;"Listen, chicken little it doesn't even matter, because in 2012 time is going to stop."&lt;br /&gt;"But that's like  three thousand years from now."&lt;br /&gt;"My point is we're all going to die, we might as well have some fun with virgins."&lt;br /&gt;"We all sacrificing virgins, but is it worth the intestine problems?"&lt;br /&gt;"For you? Probably not. But I'm high priest I can afford bottled water."&lt;br /&gt;"I can't wait for the Spanish to get here."&lt;br /&gt;"Traitor."&lt;br /&gt;"Ass-face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I think it went down just like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3215225668532087323?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3215225668532087323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3215225668532087323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3215225668532087323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3215225668532087323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/12/little-bit-of-history-repeating.html' title='A Little Bit of History Repeating'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6764857469005244197</id><published>2010-12-03T10:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T10:28:59.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If Only</title><content type='html'>The sports new media caught Derek Anderson quarterback for the Arizona Cardinals laughing on the sidelines last week during the game where the Cardinal were getting their butts kicked. Derek was pressed about the laughing by reporters after the game.  If only the regular news media had the investigative savvy we might not have thought there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. If only the regular media could show the same moxy as their sports brethren and really ask the hard questions and not let their subject off the hook, maybe a banker would be in jail right now.  This is why sports is better than real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new football laces is up. Look to your right and click. It is unscripted and probably the worst one, but it's short. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're in DC email me. I'm performing there tonight but don't have venue information.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6764857469005244197?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6764857469005244197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6764857469005244197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6764857469005244197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6764857469005244197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/12/if-only.html' title='If Only'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6447683330425054059</id><published>2010-11-28T12:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T12:37:11.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Life Lessons</title><content type='html'>Many people living in NYC did not grow up anywhere near the city. If you listen to these people talk it would seem they came to New York to flee their families and small towns.  The transplants talk trash about their relatives as if their relatives thought they were the cats pajamas. Please.  Trust me folks your family finds your existence just as mystifying as you find theirs. If your relatives believe in the existence of DNA they don't undertand how you guys share any of the same code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I have learned having many a Thanksgiving meal away from my actual family:  no one tolerates a person more than that person's own family.  Members of your family or even yourself could be the biggest douche bag out there, but your each other's douche bag. And sure they'll talk behind your back tell stories about you to their coworkers but in the end you're invited for the holidays year after year. And every year when you start in with the politics or eat all the mashed potatos without ever passing the plate to others, your family rolls its eyes and continues on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?  There is some kind of magic that happens when you know a person since that person's birth. Or you know a person since you were born. They know you. They know what they are getting. They may even hate you, but when it comes to family it doesn't matter because we don't know any better. You are you and we are related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case my family knows I'll barely eat anything on Thanksgiving because I'm a pain in the ass when it comes to food. Are they insulted? No. I've always been picky so they just ignore it. My family knows I'll say horribly offensive and insensitive things, which they will argue againsta and call me names, and then we'll go watch football. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when you are graciously invited to some other family's home it's cauldron of uncomfortableness. "Why are their hard bits of god knows what in these mashed potatos? What is the surprise in brocoli surprise? Really it's ok that everyone under 30 goes on the balcony and smokes up before dinner? Why don't you understand sarcasm? Why are you taking what I say literarlly? Oh god. how I long for my sociopath of a grandfather and my aunt who thinks her dog is a person, and my self-involved cousins who try to be a popular high school clique in the context of family. That's a world I understand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this holiday season remember you may not love your family and I'm sure they don't love you, but who cares at least you know what to expect when you're with those people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6447683330425054059?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6447683330425054059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6447683330425054059&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6447683330425054059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6447683330425054059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/holiday-life-lessons.html' title='Holiday Life Lessons'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1847597748520621768</id><published>2010-11-25T12:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T12:47:38.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Be Thankful I have new football laces podcast to go along with your mashed potatos and 3 NFL games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1847597748520621768?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1847597748520621768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1847597748520621768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1847597748520621768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1847597748520621768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-17302942297933423</id><published>2010-11-19T10:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T10:52:48.882-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Government for Looking Out for Me</title><content type='html'>Big news this week, you know get molested by airport security when traveling by plane. The economists were right the holidays would arrive early this year.  If only the U.S. government was concerned with all aspects of our safety.  There are people in Pennsylvania who can light their water on fire, people in NJ drink hormones and anti-depressants from their drinking water, people out west have arsenic in theirs.  Where are the airport security professionals to molest the household faucets of Americans. Least they can do is x-ray the water supply.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have advice for terrorists. If you want the US government to stop thwarting your plans to harm US citizens maybe you should give up the homemade bombs and start a global company, preferably dealing in chemicals, but necessarily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah and their is a new football laces podcast up. Look to your right at the sidebar and click the link.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-17302942297933423?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/17302942297933423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=17302942297933423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/17302942297933423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/17302942297933423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-government-for-looking-out-for.html' title='Thanks Government for Looking Out for Me'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3870204538687948722</id><published>2010-11-17T12:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T12:31:16.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Yourself Married, Ladies.</title><content type='html'>Hey Ladies. Are you having trouble getting your big macho guy to take the next? Is he refusing to marry you?&lt;br /&gt;I have the simple solution just tell him, "You know who doesn't get married? Gays.  So are some sort of faggot who can't get married?  Real men like Patton are married.  Fine be a pansy ass queer and stay single and have anonymous hook-ups at bars. I just hope your parents don't find out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it question his sexuality and I'm sure he'll come around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3870204538687948722?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3870204538687948722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3870204538687948722&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3870204538687948722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3870204538687948722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/get-yourself-married-ladies.html' title='Get Yourself Married, Ladies.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-2211013420582354246</id><published>2010-11-11T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T14:47:47.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>football laces is up</title><content type='html'>football laces is up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catch me in Cranberry, PA this weekend at the funny bone. I'm opening for someone you've never heard of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I might get around to writing about the new x-ray machines at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;football laces look to your right and click.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-2211013420582354246?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/2211013420582354246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=2211013420582354246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2211013420582354246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2211013420582354246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/football-laces-is-up.html' title='football laces is up'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5631007346117387052</id><published>2010-11-04T11:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T11:40:50.332-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blookd in the Streets</title><content type='html'>So it was a blood bath on Election Day. Oh wait. No it wasn't. Because we live in Democracy and not military, banana republic, nor do we live in ancient history. In ancient Rome when there was a change of power, that my friends was bloody. (I’m sure it was all violent in Persia and Greece I just have yet to listen to podcasts on the history of those empires.) Back in the day the poor would remain cripplingly poor, but also they'd be raped, slaughtered and all around pillaged. That my friends is a blood bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now no nothing happens when one group seizes power by receiving votes from the 40% of Americans who bother to show up to vote. Democratic cities don’t hoist a donkey banner and fortify their cities only to have the Republicans cut off the supply lines and starve the city out. Nope. No matter who is in power nothing changes for the average American. It’s just the same old same old steady decline of our earning potential and standard of living. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps if our votes counted toward a bloody war where a gruesome death might be our fate if the wrong side wins, perhaps we the people would not be so apathetic in voting and politics. At minimum we should make politicians mud wrestle one another as part of their campaigning. Get some actual violence in this mother fucker. I bet women would start fairing better as a result of the mud wrestling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our choices bring back the real violence that accompanied power acquisition or stop with the stupid metaphors of violence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5631007346117387052?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5631007346117387052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5631007346117387052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5631007346117387052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5631007346117387052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/blookd-in-streets.html' title='Blookd in the Streets'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6851718344785940619</id><published>2010-11-02T17:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T17:50:23.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Day. Did You Do Your Part?</title><content type='html'>It's a big day. It's election day.  Now, if you don't like your choices at the polls this year, there is an alternative.  For this to work you have to think of the big picture and be ready to realize your dreams years, even decades down the line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see today is not only election day but it is the 2nd day after Halloween. Stop into any of your box stores or regular grocery stores and see the huge discounts on bags of candy.  This is your first step, stock pile the candy and low low prices. Next, use your home computer (or go to the library if you don't have a computer and your town still has a library) and google search the names of investment bankers, CEO's of evil doing companies, and other nefarious peoples.  In your research determine where their offspring go to prep school. Then, wait outside there school and shovel candy into them.  Try to get the kids to eat the candy in front of you, as much as they can stomach. Do not let them resell the candy to impoverished children in proximate neighborhoods.  Try to ruin the prep school kids dinner.  Make them too full to consume vegetables.  You must do this everyday of the school year.  The point is to ruin their teeth so they won't be attractive enough to be elected or possibly procreate in years to come.  Also consuming massive amounts of candy day in and day out for 180 days or so should produce enough health problems that these kids won't be able to run a evil doing investment bank or company.  If you die at 33 of  hypertension or a heart attack or some diabetic related illness. It's hard to buy and sell politicians when you're dead or in the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is this plan harder than voting? Of course. Does it take more time in your life than voting once a year? Most definitely.  But ask yourself this, "Do I have a job? What am I doing with my time?"  You could be a superhero and save the world. You could be High Fructose Corn Syrup Man (or Woman) fighting corporate crime one future generation at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go get 'em America.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6851718344785940619?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6851718344785940619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6851718344785940619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6851718344785940619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6851718344785940619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/big-day-did-you-do-your-part.html' title='Big Day. Did You Do Your Part?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3435554126024432532</id><published>2010-11-01T14:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T14:59:59.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination Bug</title><content type='html'>It's election season and in some districts some politicians are talking about gay marriage. Now, for those of us who are in the arts we don't get what the big deal is regarding gay adults marrying one another. Artist, as it is widely known, are extremely self involved, so we can't fathom why anyone would care about anyone else's wedding beside their own, or of course mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard the question raised don't people have more pressing things to concern themselves with other than gay marriage?  Examples given were rent, health, job security, home security, and football.  And I think that question nails the problem right on the head.  Anti-Gay marriage is all about procrastination.  You look at your list of of uninviting things to do, like pay your credit card bill, go to the doctor, go to work, clean the bathroom, grocery shop, etc. And you say to yourself, I could get this stuff done or I could watch back to back episodes of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Nanny.&lt;/span&gt;  Well, that's done I guess It's time to clean the bathroom, ehhh. Maybe I'll just get together with some friends and protest gay marriage. They usually have coffee and donuts.  Then when I get home I'll definitely look for a job, and go to the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3435554126024432532?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3435554126024432532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3435554126024432532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3435554126024432532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3435554126024432532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/11/procrastination-bug.html' title='Procrastination Bug'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5848016444363792679</id><published>2010-10-28T16:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T16:25:05.445-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm off to Marry my Friends</title><content type='html'>No no no. I'm not getting married, I'm conducting the ceremony. If you would like your wedding ceremony I am for hire. You can hear my commercial for this new business on the football laces podcast episode 6. Just posted today. Find the link to your right of here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And may god bless you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5848016444363792679?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5848016444363792679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5848016444363792679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5848016444363792679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5848016444363792679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-off-to-marry-my-friends.html' title='I&apos;m off to Marry my Friends'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5704523619318538809</id><published>2010-10-21T13:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T13:36:48.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I might run for office</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking of running for public office in order to get a job. I don't really have any skills for any other industry and going back to school expensive. It's also a gamble. Who knows if there will be any jobs in any profession. But I do love to talk and I can hire aides with the proper training to write legislation. So if you could find it in your heart this November write me in on your ballot.  For all or any offices that are open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile episode 5 of Football laces is up. Click to your right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5704523619318538809?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5704523619318538809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5704523619318538809&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5704523619318538809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5704523619318538809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-think-i-might-run-for-office.html' title='I think I might run for office'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4518992340638209074</id><published>2010-10-14T11:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T11:23:35.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm on the Side of Righteousness</title><content type='html'>In a couple of weeks I will be presiding over a wedding ceremony. Yes, me-Rachael Parenta, comedian, non-religious, barely spiritual--will be officiating a wedding.  This wedding is a special wedding the couple to be wed are big Halloween fans and are to be married October 30th.  They are trying to convince their guests to wear costumes. They want the ring barer to be in a bear costume.  They plan to sing a song with together, accompanied by a Ukulele after their vows but before they kiss and are presented to the witnesses as newly married.  The bride is planning to wear devil horns on her head during the ceremony in honor of Halloween. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wedding does nothing to the integrity of the institution of marriage because the couple is straight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4518992340638209074?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4518992340638209074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4518992340638209074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4518992340638209074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4518992340638209074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-on-side-of-righteousness.html' title='I&apos;m on the Side of Righteousness'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-2433190642207046413</id><published>2010-10-11T15:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T16:07:42.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Secret to My Unsuccss</title><content type='html'>I look around me and I see one thing people who doing well for themselves, professionally, have in common. They overcame some horrible addiction.  I now people who were complete drunks give up drinking and the next thing you know they're out there succeeding. I have friend who weighed many pounds than she lost all the weight and now life is humming along for her.  If only I had screwed up my life in some major way. If I had almost killed myself with some bad choice I could then really take stock of my life and say, "Rachael, this has to stop." When the problem is clear the solution can be found in a book or 12 step program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I almost almost killed myself by climbing out a 3 floor window, but I only broke one bone. I was in the hospital a week maybe a week and half. You don't soul search with a broken ankle.  And that my friends is as close as I have come to hitting rock bottom and then turning my life around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure I could go out there start shooting heroin. But, what if I don't get addicted? What if I become one of those functional drug addicts we hear about? Or worse what if it all goes horribly wrong and I just stay addicted or overweight or a drunk or a sex addict, whatever? I guess I really don't have the courage to give my career my all. To gamble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess I'll still mull it over while I'm watching TV and gchatting for the rest of the day. We'll see if I can fit it in, what with all the computer hearts I have to play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-2433190642207046413?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/2433190642207046413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=2433190642207046413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2433190642207046413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2433190642207046413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/secret-to-my-unsuccss.html' title='The Secret to My Unsuccss'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-267811134716802685</id><published>2010-10-05T10:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T10:50:47.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Home! I Love You! Don't Go!</title><content type='html'>The US declared a travel advisory for Americans traveling to Europe.  I believe the warning was something like, "Don't go to Europe now the exchange rate of dollar to euro is awful, you're going to have to stay in hostel. Seriously guys, don't go. You can get Mcdonalds right here at home. You're still going? But why? We need you to spend money here. Please. We love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The government likes to keep us scared when election time nears.  Unfortunately for the political parties I'm not so scared of terrorists.  I'm scared of Cancer.  And everywhere I turn I see cancer plotting against me. If I go out into the sun without sunscreen--cancer. If I put sunscreen on--cancer. I have to eat vegetables to avoid cancer unless those vegetables were grown in toxic soil with toxic pesticides--cancer. I didn't eat all the vegetables I cooked so I have to reheat them, oh wait not in that suspicious container.  I should go get exercise, oh but not outside cancer is in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I'm saying is there is what a couple thousand terrorists most aren't that smart, but there are millions of ways of getting cancer and getting cancer is expensive and the treatment is as bad as the disease.  I'd rather have a guy with bomb sitting next to me than a guy who is radioactive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-267811134716802685?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/267811134716802685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=267811134716802685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/267811134716802685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/267811134716802685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/stay-home-i-love-you-dont-go.html' title='Stay Home! I Love You! Don&apos;t Go!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-389458029205148575</id><published>2010-10-02T20:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T20:24:13.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Football Laces episode is up</title><content type='html'>Look to your right click on the link if you're interested in football or imaginary sponsors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-389458029205148575?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/389458029205148575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=389458029205148575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/389458029205148575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/389458029205148575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/10/football-laces-episode-is-up.html' title='Football Laces episode is up'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5164843663330356616</id><published>2010-09-27T12:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T12:45:38.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Call The Wild. Will It Accept the Charges?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been hiking with your boyfriend and just kind of hope that a bob cat comes along and eats your boyfriend? Because it's not like you're going to break-up with him. You don't want to have to worry about if that was the right or wrong decision. What if it turns out after you break up you realize you actually like him. No, no no. That won't do, too much heartache. And you don't want him breaking up with you because rejection sucks. The bob cat in the woods is really the only answer to your relationship problems. This way, you're not dating anymore. You get a couple of excused days off from work, and maybe his father will help with the rent for a month. There is no way is father is contributing any money towards your rent if you guys break up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5164843663330356616?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5164843663330356616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5164843663330356616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5164843663330356616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5164843663330356616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/call-wild-will-it-accept-charges.html' title='Call The Wild. Will It Accept the Charges?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8366302457801382606</id><published>2010-09-24T13:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T14:55:00.482-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes You Just Have to Try</title><content type='html'>So for the last two weeks I've been attempting to create a podcast. I was hoping to launch by the first game of the regular NFL season, but since I have absolutely no experience in podcasting my production crew and I had some over runs with cost and time. Not cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the first episode of Football Laces  a football podcast.  It is too be amusing but not yet hysterical. Gentle constructive criticism is welcome, harsh and blunt criticism is not.  I'll have a link to the podcast site shortly. For now here is episode 1, "Black Cats, Stepping on Cracks, Breaking the Other Guy's Quarterback."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="28" width="335"&gt;&lt;param value="http://www.divshare.com/flash/audio_embed?data=YTo2OntzOjU6ImFwaUlkIjtzOjE6IjQiO3M6NjoiZmlsZUlkIjtpOjEyNjQyODU4O3M6NDoiY29kZSI7czoxMjoiMTI2NDI4NTgtY2FjIjtzOjY6InVzZXJJZCI7aToyMDg0Mjc0O3M6MTI6ImV4dGVybmFsQ2FsbCI7aToxO3M6NDoidGltZSI7aToxMjg1MzUwOTM3O30=&amp;amp;autoplay=default" name="movie"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" src="http://www.divshare.com/flash/audio_embed?data=YTo2OntzOjU6ImFwaUlkIjtzOjE6IjQiO3M6NjoiZmlsZUlkIjtpOjEyNjQyODU4O3M6NDoiY29kZSI7czoxMjoiMTI2NDI4NTgtY2FjIjtzOjY6InVzZXJJZCI7aToyMDg0Mjc0O3M6MTI6ImV4dGVybmFsQ2FsbCI7aToxO3M6NDoidGltZSI7aToxMjg1MzUwOTM3O30=&amp;amp;autoplay=default" height="28" width="335"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8366302457801382606?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8366302457801382606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8366302457801382606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8366302457801382606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8366302457801382606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/sometimes-you-just-have-to-try.html' title='Sometimes You Just Have to Try'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7948256563919729271</id><published>2010-09-22T16:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T18:21:02.458-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In the Words Of 80s Rock Legends Cinderella</title><content type='html'>Many of us are still out of work and the cries from the people to government are, "We need jobs. Jobs now!" I think it's kind of funny people are demanding jobs when they never liked the jobs they did have. It's kind of like being in a bad relationship. When you're in one all you do is bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God I hate my job. Job is so momentous, same thing day in and day out. It's so demanding. It never listens. Where is my me time? We always have to do what the job wants. And God forbid I look at porn?" But then a recession hits and you lose your job, it's as if your job has broken up with you. "No, baby, come back. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry baby. I'll do whatever you want. I'll spend time with you on the weekends. I'll wake up early to be by your side, I'll do it all for a fraction of what I used to do it for. Come on sugar, what you say? It's so cold and lonely here without you. Literarily, it's freezing I can't afford heat with you. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you can't get your old job back you start asking friends to set you up with whatever skank or loser they know. "Do you have an in at McDonalds. I'll fry cook it up. Or I'll go down in the coal mines. I'm desperate. I haven't worked in over a year. The only person to touch my bank account is me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To summarize, “You don't know what you got until it's gone.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7948256563919729271?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7948256563919729271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7948256563919729271&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7948256563919729271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7948256563919729271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/in-words-of-80s-rock-legends-cinderella.html' title='In the Words Of 80s Rock Legends Cinderella'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1573025853666201877</id><published>2010-09-20T23:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T00:09:43.777-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sports Update</title><content type='html'>Mark Sanchez, quarterback for the NY Jets, made the statement "I just told the guys to have fun. We're men playing a kids game." To which sports commentator Mike &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Francessa&lt;/span&gt; said, "I still don't like that. It's too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;philosophical&lt;/span&gt;."  Wow. Now, I'm trying to remember which philosopher said that. It wasn't Nietzsche. It was Kant. Oh wait I think it was Mike D. from the philosophical school of the Beastie Boy. Yes, her wrote the treatise on fighting for your right to party.  Oh no, or was it that great thinker Cindy Lauper and her ground breaking work on women and just wanting fun. I always get them confused.  But yeah, Mike is right you don't want to get too heady in football.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1573025853666201877?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1573025853666201877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1573025853666201877&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1573025853666201877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1573025853666201877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/sports-update.html' title='Sports Update'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6000313297361897502</id><published>2010-09-14T10:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T10:35:02.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Judge Me by My Cover. It's Dangerous.</title><content type='html'>So I was on the subway last night. Yes, I was slumming on the mass transit, I had writing and reading to do.  I sat in the car with my messenger bag next me. Across from me was a black young sprawling his right leg over nearly half the bench. During our journey a person gets on the train and asks me to move my bag so he can sit. They didn't ask the black guy. Why? because this person was clearly racist and feared talking to a black man. But they see me, a small, white woman and think I'll comply.  I moved my bag, let him sit down, and then I stabbed him. I had to prove that stereo-types weren't truth. The sprawling black guy, I think, was on the same page as me because as my victim bled out the black kid started screaming in hysterics, flailing his arms about, and then he fainted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, women don't just use poison anymore to get their point across.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6000313297361897502?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6000313297361897502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6000313297361897502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6000313297361897502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6000313297361897502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/dont-judge-me-by-my-cover-its-dangerous.html' title='Don&apos;t Judge Me by My Cover. It&apos;s Dangerous.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8191935846911653802</id><published>2010-09-09T09:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T09:42:48.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Knew Book Burning Was So Popular I Would Have Done it Years Ago.</title><content type='html'>Some untalented hack down in Florida is getting national press. I even know his name Pastor Jones. The country can't stop talking about him and he hasn't even done anything yet. He plans to burn the Koran.  How does anyone care?  I have spent 8 years doing comedy working hard, writing jokes, rewriting jokes, begging for stage time, suffering through open mics, making tapes of my set sending out press kits, producing shows and worst of all schmoozing. And this yahoo comes along and in days the country knows all about his act, which he hasn't even performed yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is this man's publicist? How much does he/she cost?  Is it about insulting people? I do that all the time. I wrote a song and made a music video called "Punch a Banker in the Face." Not one word from the press. Not one banker made a death threat or went whining to the media or the cops or to some politician they own. Should I have written the song "Burn a Banker in the Face?" How hard is it to burn a book any asshole can do that.  I had to learn how to use Logic Pro to record my song. I had to organize a group of people to come over to my apartment to record the song.  This is NYC do you know what people's schedules are like?  How hard is to clear your own schedule for a few minutes to burn a book? Not hard you don't have to buy anyone beer.  Then I had to schedule other people to come and be in the video and help me shoot the video.  I don't have budget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for all my hard work what has it gotten me? I get to perform in the Village tonight for two maybe three of my relatives. If I just went to Roshashana dinner I could have performed for more of them and gotten dinner. So if you're not busy, but of course you are, I'll be at the Zinc Bar on w. 3rd street at 8pm tonight. If that doesn't interest you what if I promise to burn the by laws of Goldman Sachs while I'm on stage. Hey that has to violate a fire code or something. Did I mention I'm a minister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I'm sure the Rev Jones doesn't proof read either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8191935846911653802?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8191935846911653802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8191935846911653802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8191935846911653802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8191935846911653802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/if-i-knew-book-burning-was-so-popular-i.html' title='If I Knew Book Burning Was So Popular I Would Have Done it Years Ago.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3658154893895196838</id><published>2010-09-07T01:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T01:56:17.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day Traditions</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I spent my Labor Day in the traditional manner.  I woke up around noon and went down to an exclusive country club, where I captured me one of those big wig, fat cat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CEOs&lt;/span&gt;.  I always hope to get an owner of a coal mine or a big investment bank, but those devils are slippery and you have to take what you can get--similar to a job, a guess.  After I get a CEO I drag him/her on down to the arts center where the kids are waiting for me for their Labor Day fun arts project.  Some years we bronze our trophy. Some years we just build a canoe and tie him/her to the mast and set sail on the nearest body of water.  Tying a human being to a mast of canoe teaches children all types of science and math lessons. Canoes don't normally have masts, and if they were to have a mast they don't normally have the added weight of grown human tied to it. Therefore, design is important. But most years we just have the children cover the captive in paper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mache&lt;/span&gt;`. The kids love painting the business tycoon in fabulous colors. Then we bring him/her down to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;AFL&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CIO&lt;/span&gt; Labor Day Picnic and let the union guys and gals have fun with the humongous pinata. The funniest part is when a person falls out of the pinata instead of candy and the laborers have this horrible look of disappointment on their faces. But, before they can start &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;picketing&lt;/span&gt; the kids and I start handing out beers and Hershey bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, Labor Day is so much fun. I love America!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3658154893895196838?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3658154893895196838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3658154893895196838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3658154893895196838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3658154893895196838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/labor-day-traditions.html' title='Labor Day Traditions'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-9213477494102330067</id><published>2010-09-02T12:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T13:02:03.027-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Contracts Don't Do it.</title><content type='html'>I know the six readers I have these days are not sports fans, but well, I have to be me.  Many in the NYC metro area who do follow sports are upset at the Jets and their cornerback Darrell Revis for not finalizing a new contract. I say wait a minute. Has it occurred to any of you that perhaps both parties are being smart seeing as how we're in a Mercury retrograde right now. And as any astrologer will tell you a Mercury retrograde is no time to be signing contracts. It's a time for reflection, for editting (don't worry I won't let that get me started) and research. I've been told by countless astrologers that contracts entered into during a Mercury retrograde are regretted once Mercury goes direct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately Mercury doesn't go direct until September 12th which is the first day of the 2010 NFL season. Good news is that the Jets don't play until Monday night September 13th. So maybe they can get the contract done Monday morning before the game starts Monday night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-9213477494102330067?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/9213477494102330067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=9213477494102330067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9213477494102330067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/9213477494102330067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/contracts-dont-do-it.html' title='Contracts Don&apos;t Do it.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8423974364100479844</id><published>2010-09-01T09:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T09:40:00.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginia Slims</title><content type='html'>This past weekend I performed at a show where the host was a gay, Arab-American. He told the audience that when he goes to the airport he really "gays" it up to avoid being taken out of line and questioned before boarding the plane.  I thought to myself wow, the Gay Civil Rights movement has really come a long way.  Homophobia is nowhere near Arabphobia.  Americans rather be judged on what they are wearing on the plane by the person next to them than sit there thinking they might have to be a hero because all they want to do is watch "Meet The Fockers 4" and take a nap.  You've really made it, ladies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8423974364100479844?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8423974364100479844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8423974364100479844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8423974364100479844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8423974364100479844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/09/virginia-slims.html' title='Virginia Slims'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5055037742234852154</id><published>2010-08-31T10:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T10:40:13.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not All Lies Are Created Equally</title><content type='html'>I heard on news radio last night that upon further inspection of the chicken coops producing the tainted eggs was grotesque. Rodent holes, sick chickens ranging free while the other chickens are trapped in cages unable to flee the sick chickens, chickens living in their own filth.  I thought to myself too bad the CEO of the egg company hadn't lied to congress about steroid use.   If only the CEO of BP had suspiciously passed Hank Aaron's home run record this summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5055037742234852154?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5055037742234852154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5055037742234852154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5055037742234852154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5055037742234852154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/not-all-lies-are-created-equally.html' title='Not All Lies Are Created Equally'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8174899331359328842</id><published>2010-08-29T14:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T15:05:26.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe It's What You Do Not Who You Are</title><content type='html'>Last week in NYC a man allegedly got in a cab, made offensive, anti-Muslim remarks, and then attacked the cab driver with a knife. I wonder if this is what really happened.  I propose the dude attacked the cab driver because the cab driver is a cab driver and we know how those people are.  I think it went something like this. The assailant was riding his bike down 2nd avenue when the cab driver cut the assailant off forcing him into a car.  This of course not being the first time our assailant was almost killed by a cab while riding his bike, so now he's pissed. He finds his balance and chases down the cab driver. Filled with rage, and perhaps concussed from his encounter with the park car (which is why the cops thought he was drunk) he stabs and slashes the cab driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cab driver being a cab driver doesn't want to take responsibility for his reckless driving makes up this defamation story. Why wouldn't some crazed white person attack a Muslim for merely being Muslim? Look how crazed some in the city are over some Islamic Community center. However, there is a big hole in his story. The white guy started talking shit about Ramadan. Really? And white people who aren't Muslims have actually ever heard of this holiday? Yes, racists and bigots are just so multi-cultural and knowledgeable. Please. Nice try, Menace to Our Roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wonder if this is how it happened, where is the white dude's bike? Simple it was stolen when he got off the bike to attack the cabby. Bike thieves are everywhere which is why the guy was carrying a knife to begin with.  You never know when you are going to happen upon someone chiseling away at your bike lock and of course if you catch someone in the act of stealing your bike you must stab him/her until he/she is dead dead dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying if the guy wanted to stab a Muslim why wouldn't he just wait outside a mosque and follow the weakest one home?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8174899331359328842?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8174899331359328842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8174899331359328842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8174899331359328842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8174899331359328842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/maybe-its-what-you-do-not-who-you-are.html' title='Maybe It&apos;s What You Do Not Who You Are'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3356139578567842669</id><published>2010-08-26T10:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T10:37:05.448-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sporting News</title><content type='html'>There are big sports stories in the news these past couple of weeks. The first story is of course Roger Clemens being indicted on perjury charges. I guess congress thinks the dude took steroids.  Many from the public are up in arms about Roger's use. One argument goes something like, "What kind of role model are you for children, Roger? Now student athletes are going to use steroids. Think about the children."   I would be all behind this argument if parents seemed to give a shit that the cows they feed their children are also on performance enhancing drugs. The milk served with cookies comes from cows that cheat. Why hasn't Bessie been brought before the some house subcommittee and grilled? (Pardon the pun.) What kind of example does she set for farm animals all over America? Hell, the chickens have already started on them as well. And let's not forget the water supply. Yes, the water supply once thought to be the Ken Griffey Jr. of substances we ingest is filled with hormones and other crap that may or may not enhance the performance of water.  There is water in Pennsylvania that you can light on fire, yes it's quite a spectacle and boy does it rake in the money, but what about the purity of the game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, when Bessie uses performing enhancing drugs, unlike Roger Clemens, it is almost certain that your kids will do them. Just look your 9 year old son has breasts. Great he has a head start on his tranny prostitute career. But shouldn't he have a childhood first?  He has his whole life to be a tranny prostitute or a chick with a dick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanhwile the Jets have yet to renegotiate their star corner back's, Darrell Revis, contract.  First, all Revis you have a contract you are invoilation of it by not reporting to practice. I think maybe Darrell should have read watched more Oprah and learned to think more positively of himself. If he had he would have thought himself a winner from day one and demanded to be paid like a winner.  When will men stop fearing TV for women? They could learn so much. Secondly, why is it the very wealthy who refuse to take a wage cut. US wages have been stagnating for 30 years now yet the owners of the Jets (and the rest of the NFL ownership) refuse to take a pay cut. Just pay your corner back his money and sell one of your yahts or planes.  It's a recession we all have to tighten our belts and you should not be an exception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of rich people not wanting to spend the massive amounts of money they have what's the deal with Jets and Giants forcing their fans to pay of a new stadium none of them asked for. I never heard anyone complain about the old stadium, yes they complained frequently about the players that played in them but not the stadium itself. So why don't you guys just pay of your own stadium? You wanted it. I want to go to Peru I'm not going to get someone to pay for my Peru vacation.  If that means owenership has to move from some mansion or penthouse in an exclusive neighborhood to Newark, NJ well, as the working in this country know sacfrices have to be made.  And to the fans who paid for those personal seat liscences I think you might have a sports addiction. However, I hope you can make all that money back this season by successfully handi-capping the games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3356139578567842669?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3356139578567842669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3356139578567842669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3356139578567842669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3356139578567842669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/sporting-news.html' title='Sporting News'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3548260981696768120</id><published>2010-08-09T15:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T15:17:44.485-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't spell his name but he's still a dick</title><content type='html'>This morning I heard that the president of Iran Ahmed Yadda Yadda A Jan has decided to ban some rock and roll like Pink Floyd.  Just like a baby boomer.  You know mister ant-free speech there has been music written after 1975.  So now Iranian living in Canada are protesting by playing Pink Floyd's dark side of the moon.  Couldn't the president ban some lesser known artists like the Apples in Stereo? Those guys could use the publicity.  Next he'll ban the Jackson 5. Not Michael the solo artist because that happened after baby boomers started having his own kids.  The man is no better than Bill Clinton with his unnecessary publicity of Fleetwood Mac. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out  that no matter what country you live in&lt;br /&gt;baby boomers are all the same, musically self-involved wind bags.  All I have to say is that Sonic Youth's bassist and guitarist got together in the1980s and not only are they still married their relationship didn't ruin the band. I don't think Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks can say the same thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3548260981696768120?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3548260981696768120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3548260981696768120&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3548260981696768120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3548260981696768120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-cant-spell-his-name-but-hes-still.html' title='I can&apos;t spell his name but he&apos;s still a dick'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-330345075251075498</id><published>2010-08-04T16:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T16:28:13.948-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='postive thinking'/><title type='text'>My Mind Is All Powerful</title><content type='html'>It was a amazing the other day I had to drive from Brooklyn to NJ.  I was hoping to get to NJ in time to buy a sandwich from my favorite sandwich shop.  Unfortunately, the sandwich shop closes at 3pm. The clock on my dresser showed that it was 1:30pm.  I knew there was no way I was going to  make it in time. I was sad, but headed out the door anyway, as I had other business in NJ to attend to. The eggplant sandwich is good but not so good that I would be traveling all the way to Parsipanny just for the sandwich.  I had the slimmest of hope that maybe I'd get there with enough time. Those hopes were quickly dashed as I drove towards the light of NJ through the Holland Tunnel.  Bam! Traffic. Bad awful traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that I realized I was a magical wizard.  If I had truly believed in my heart that I could make it to an Eggplant sandwich there would have been no traffic. My negative thoughts created construction or an accident for some poor sap.  My negativity was able to change matter.  If I had though positively all the people who live in the most densely populated state in the country would have evaporated from existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love being a magical powerful wizard. I will now will my tomato plants to produce more tomatoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-330345075251075498?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/330345075251075498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=330345075251075498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/330345075251075498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/330345075251075498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-mind-is-all-powerful.html' title='My Mind Is All Powerful'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6313784777792532541</id><published>2010-08-01T10:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T10:35:46.798-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Have Ruined the World</title><content type='html'>Financial crisis. Oil spills. Dumb ass wars. Even dumber ass politicians. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple women have long been sleeping with the wrong men. Yes, the theme for most romantic comedies is actually the reason the world is the shit whole it has become. If women looked at all those douche bag CEO's and said, "Eww." The same way women say "Eww" to homeless men hitting on them, the world would be a better place.  What a different world it would be if women looked at a man who doesn't put in place needed safety regulations the same way she looks at a dude who mows lawns we'd be a better society. If you can't get laid you're not going to stop the behavior that is infringing on your sex life. That or you'll kill yourself. Either way America wins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start giving it up to men who do charitable works. Start opening your legs to those who call you back when they say they're calling you back. Start ignoring people who trade in derivatives. Please keep dating really attractive guys. Stop dating ugly ones just because he's rich. Oh and when you yourself embark on a career stop acting like the socio-paths you've married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If women had better taste in men, the world would be cleaner and fairer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6313784777792532541?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6313784777792532541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6313784777792532541&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6313784777792532541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6313784777792532541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/08/women-have-ruined-world.html' title='Women Have Ruined the World'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1811251003194718665</id><published>2010-07-30T13:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T13:34:55.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Givvies"</title><content type='html'>What if the world was just made up of non-ambitious, lazy people?  Would that be paradise? I think it might, well almost. There world would not be tidy. Things would be strewn all over the place and their probably be human waste in our water supply as a lazy person would not walk the extra yards to keep the water clean. But look at what ambitious competitve people have put in our water supply (hormones, meds, industrial waste etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lazy may never invent anything or move society along with so called progress, but a inhabited by the lazy would never see geonicide. "What? Kill all those others from some foriegn tribe. Maybe tomorrow. Right now i'm pretty happy lounging under this tree. Why don't you find your own tree to go lounge under? If you don't move I'll have to slit your throat. Ahh I guess not, my knife is all the way over there somewhere. Who knows where it is. I didn't put away last time I held it and thought of using it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we should honor the lazy in this world. We could give them an award "Give-ups" (known as "The Givvies" because saying the whole thing is too much effort) for those who have shown excellence in not doing much of anything.  I know in this highly competitive world the laziest of us are not helping reign in the most ambitious and ruthless of us, but if we all were like them maybe the world would be a better place and for that I salute you. Have a Givvie. You deserve it. You never invented the combustible engine or napalm--good show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1811251003194718665?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1811251003194718665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1811251003194718665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1811251003194718665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1811251003194718665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/givvies.html' title='&quot;The Givvies&quot;'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3171293480557185888</id><published>2010-07-28T15:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T15:39:41.211-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Parenting Questions to Resolve</title><content type='html'>So say you decide to have the kids. Do you move to a town with a good school system, or even better mortgage your future on highly ranked, very competitive private school? I say you move to a really, notoriously bad school district.  You take the money you save on rent (or housing prices if you choose to buy) and get your kid a tutor  (and hell you probably could get those tutors for free. Look at where you live).  When your kids has great SAT scores and amazing GPA coming out of this horrible school district just watch the accolades and the scholarships roll in.   Think of the self confidence your kids will exhibit knowing they are so far superior to their classmates.  And because of the tutors they'll know all the stuff that the kids from Dalton know, but your kids won't be ravaged psychologically by growing up with cut throat competition.  And speaking of cutting throats your kid will have street smarts.  Your kids will probably know how to wield a knife and file the numbers off a gun.  So if one of the Dalton kids start getting in  your kids' face while at Yale your kids will be able to handle it, bad school district style. And what? Is the Dalton kid's parents going to sue? Sue for what you're from one of the shittiest places in America. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want your kids to have a chance in this world you have two choices, one is full of stress and competition, and debt. The other is full of cheap housing, a bit of pollution and gang violence, but expectations set so low FDR could hurdle them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3171293480557185888?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3171293480557185888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3171293480557185888&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3171293480557185888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3171293480557185888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/more-parenting-questions-to-resolve.html' title='More Parenting Questions to Resolve'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5791308648448243865</id><published>2010-07-20T12:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T13:13:22.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To Breed of Not To Breed?</title><content type='html'>In the modern era many of us actually decide whether or not to have kids, as opposed to just having them. We way the pros and cons. We think about the costs of raising kids, the time commitment, and possibly moving to a better school district.  And of course we think about raising kids with the knowledge a global war over water and food supplies will probably occur in our offspring's life time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's this last question that is not as clear cut as the first three-- either you have the money or you don't, same with time, and do you really want to live in Greenwhich, Ct?  But the inevitable war is more complicated.  Do you want to have a child just to watch him/her die in a ruthless anarchistic war between the haves and have nots? Or do you have the kids knowing that by the time the war comes you will be old and somewhat feeble and need your youthful children to protect you or seize water and food for you? Then of course you have to consider will the conditions be so bad that your children won't help you. That helping you would compromise their own survival. How heart broken would you be to watch your own children betray you after you moved to boring ass Greenwhich, CT for them. Are those the type of ethics they teach up in that public school system?  Nevermind that fact that you are going to starve to death or be eaten alive by crazy cannibals, hopefully those cannibals won't be your own children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do you have children and take the chance they'll leave you to die and all that money and time spent on them will have been for naught? Or do you just enjoy yourself now and start stockpiling water and weapons? Or do you first take psychology classes to learn how to successfully manipulate your children so that they will fight to death for your survival?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a tough question to answer. Similar to whether or not one should go to grad school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5791308648448243865?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5791308648448243865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5791308648448243865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5791308648448243865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5791308648448243865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-breed-of-not-to-breed.html' title='To Breed of Not To Breed?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8802437540391734283</id><published>2010-07-16T10:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T10:47:21.387-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Ready?</title><content type='html'>As it is nowhere near Election time, we haven't even hit preseason football yet, I figured I join in with the mass media, and put my two cents in on the upcoming midseason elections. Many from the voting public think we need fewer lawyers in Congress and more business people. Now, I hate lawyers as much as the next person, I have worked for lawyers they're assholes. Lawyers seem to lack knowledge in people skills and social decency. But you know what lawyers do know law. And that's what Congress does they write laws. However, the argument is that government is inefficient and so we need to elect someone from the business world because business gets things done. Umm. I think what has happened is we have been out of work too long. I think we have forgotten how businesses work.  Have any of you ever tried ordering office supplies?  I have been hired to temp for years. I have been hired by these so called efficient companies to replace their full time employees, on a temporary basis, to basically check my email, gchat, plan a trip to Ireland and Scotland. Once I worked for a private hospital for a month and sat in a cube and rewrote a full length play.   Do the people I replace work? If so then who is doing their job when I’m there?   If they do work but others can do their job too why is the person hired?  Or if they don’t work why were they ever hired? And please don’t stop hiring me or them we need money.&lt;br /&gt;My other job (corporate mover, where I and others move employees of corporation from one location to another, sometimes just across the cube aisle—yes you definitely needed to hire three separate subcontracting firms for this –and again keep doing it I need the money.) Big organizations whether public or private are like Andre the Giant and don't move swiftly or with any efficiency. They need a like 4000 calories a day to do the same things we do on 2000 calories a day.  Small things like Jackie Chan move with great efficacy. So basically I'm saying, Jackie Chan for congress in 2010. Or you know how about an accountant. Granted not great public speakers but they are pretty good at balancing the books.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8802437540391734283?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8802437540391734283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8802437540391734283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8802437540391734283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8802437540391734283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/whos-ready.html' title='Who&apos;s Ready?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6630378334138481388</id><published>2010-07-10T10:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T11:21:35.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Country vs. City</title><content type='html'>There are many things that city has going for it, such as being able to buy prepared food at 3am. But when it comes to the transporation the country has the advantage. Not that I'm a proponent for being stuck in one's car all day to get everywhere.  However, when driving in your car if you pass someone you know you just honk and wave and go on your way to the work while  reading your book and avoiding hitting school children. In the city no such luck. If you run into someone on your way to work you are taking the subway or the bus. Which means no reading for you. No listening to the podcast of Roman History, no sleeping.  Because now you have to talk to this person until one of you reaches their stop. The sad part is neither one of you really wants to give up their commute time to talk to the other (it's not like one of you is desperate to run into a random acquaintance. It's not like you're stalking this person.).  Social mores require you come up with conversation for your entire journey that could be nearly an hour depending on when you run into the person and how far you're traveling. God help you if you're traveling 8 miles to your destination that's an hour without the wait time in a city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel city folk should adopt this new greeting to people they know when on the subway or bus. "Hi, I know you and glad we bumped into each other. I now feel connected to a community in this god forsaken place that is lonelier than the artic in a crazy irony. However, I would like to read the book I just overpaid for and perhaps write in my journal, maybe watch something on my ipod and finish my 9 mile commute with a nap. Please don't take my lack of wanting to chat personally, I think you're a fine person I just rather spend my commute time with non-human objects.   if I were only going 3 stops I'd totally chat with you for the 10 minutes but we'll be crosssing over a body of water where we'll be stuck for train traffic ahead for a good 20 minutes before we resume moving. I just rather do other things than watch you feign interest.&lt;br /&gt;You understand."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6630378334138481388?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6630378334138481388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6630378334138481388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6630378334138481388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6630378334138481388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/country-vs-city.html' title='Country vs. City'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4922986451300528920</id><published>2010-07-01T10:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T10:47:58.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>See Live Comedy. Save a Nation.</title><content type='html'>Here is some world history.  Prior to Adolph Hitler becoming the leader of Nazi Germany he was a painter. Unable to make a living at painting he turned to dictatorship.  Before Fidel Castro ran Cuba he played professional baseball. Unfortunately, he never made it to the major leagues. Yes, the United States of America's major league baseball organization. So embittered by his crushed dreams he turned to communism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These stories teach us two things. One, it's easier to become a dictator than to make a living doing something that you love. And two, if you want to fight Communism and Fascism maybe as a world society we shouldn't make it so hard for people to realize their artistic and sports career goals. What I'm saying is you people better start supporting my endeavors or I might have to take over a country and bend its people to my will. That country could be yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4922986451300528920?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4922986451300528920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4922986451300528920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4922986451300528920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4922986451300528920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/07/see-live-comedy-save-nation.html' title='See Live Comedy. Save a Nation.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7660975482842897243</id><published>2010-06-29T18:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T09:25:02.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I think All You Need is G.E.D.</title><content type='html'>How stupid is the former General Stanley McCrystal? He was forced to resign because of some stupid shit he said in a magazine. How can he a 4 star general be less intelligent than the basic professional ball player.  I mean, Derek Jeter didn't even go to college. You'd never catch him talking shit about the Steinbrenners. Even if George or Hal decided that the NY Yankees would now be playing ball in kilts and eye-patches.  All Derek would say, is I'm just trying to go out there and win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the general had to say was, "It's a team effort, I couldn't be spending billions of tax dollars without the help of huge, multinational, conglomomorates who make the equipment we use. And let's not forget about the men and women on the field who sacrafice so much. It's not about me and my statistics. It's about winning. We have to take it one day at a time. One game at a time. In the end war is simple. You try to kill the enemy and have them not kill you. I'll know we have succeeded when we are wearing our championship rings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I have new election reform. Since waterboarding isn't torture and just a investigative tactic how about we subject all politicians seeking elected office to waterboarding. Then we can question them on what they really believe. Then we'll finally know the truth. It might be slightly unpleasant for those people, but I'm sure they don't like having to go around talking to the unwashed masses, kissing babies, and begging for financing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7660975482842897243?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7660975482842897243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7660975482842897243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7660975482842897243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7660975482842897243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-think-all-you-need-is-ged.html' title='I think All You Need is G.E.D.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4750865851299675118</id><published>2010-06-24T11:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T11:48:33.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insult. You are the Insult.</title><content type='html'>The word tourist is frequently used as a slur, such as "You look like a tourist, " or "That venue is touristy," or "Stupid, friggin tourists I hate them!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why being a tourist is a negative.  Do people really think, "Eww tourist. How stupid you are with your curiosity of foriegn places and love of seeing the world. how gross your desire is of new experiences. Why can't you be more like us who lve here in our stylish, constrictive (and culturally appropriate) clothing that hampers our ability to ambulate. You tourists are such idiots with your needs of maps and having to ask directions can you be any more dumb or dependent? If you were just like us who will live and die in the place we were born you would know your way around and wouldn't have to be lost.  And stop taking pictures of random historical things. You're like a child with your excitement.  Your awe is over a landmark our teenagers smash beer bottles over. So sad little tourist."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4750865851299675118?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4750865851299675118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4750865851299675118&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4750865851299675118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4750865851299675118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/insult-you-are-insult.html' title='Insult. You are the Insult.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6909213974181409341</id><published>2010-06-22T10:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T11:04:51.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This past weekend I watched someone accuse my best friend Anna of hating herself. Man, did she get all up in his grill. "I don't hate myself. I love myself. I'm awesome. I'm actually a sort of genius. No, my friend. I hate life. Life is  not showing me the respect that I deserve especially because I'm so awesome. Life continues to suck which is not appropriate for someone such as myself.  I am good, life is bad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only we all could have that kind of self esteem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6909213974181409341?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6909213974181409341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6909213974181409341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6909213974181409341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6909213974181409341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-past-weekend-i-watched-someone.html' title=''/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4815024002414744447</id><published>2010-06-15T12:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T13:00:56.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Accountability with An Abacus Is Going to Take Time</title><content type='html'>Now I hate teachers as much as the next American citizen. Who wouldn’t? We spend 13 years (if you count kindergarten) with these people. And what do they do. They yell at us. They make us sit down. They play favorites; they don't let you chew gum. They call your parents when you defend yourself against their wrath. They suck I get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time why are we demanding they be accountable for their job performance. The argument is that rest of us are. Umm. Really? I don't see anyone getting fired at BP or Halliburton, or anyone at the Minerals Management Service. OK the last one wasn't fair those guys are really good at sex and procuring drugs.  But how many CEO's have been fired from big investment banks? Like two and they have both been rehired somewhere else in the same industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's not just rich douche bags who ruin our lives in dramatically catastrophic ways, but it's also the people who ruin our lives one hour at a time. Have you ever bought something at store? Have you ever dealt with the cable company or the phone company?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it people we all are horrible at our jobs, because just like teaching working sucks. We're not happy to be there we are forced to be there just like we were forced to sit still as children in public school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I'm saying is don't let our blind hatred for those tyrants who ruined our youth to have us rewrite the present. No one is accountable for the job results.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4815024002414744447?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4815024002414744447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4815024002414744447&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4815024002414744447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4815024002414744447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/accountability-with-abacus-is-going-to.html' title='Accountability with An Abacus Is Going to Take Time'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7125602851306416516</id><published>2010-06-14T13:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T13:45:57.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple</title><content type='html'>Alright. America has an obsesity problem. What to do. Easy make America smaller. The reason our country is fat is because we can be. We have the room to spread out. The Japanese not so much room and therefore they are skinnier and shorter.  If we close in the borders of our courntry and make the houses and apartments smaller you'll see the people get smaller. It's the vast room we have here that allows us to be fat. People think those who reside in NYC are skinnier then the rest of the country because they walk. No. They live in tiny tiny apartments. You have to be able to fit into your expensive studio. What's the point of having an apartment if you have to sleep in central park?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry America diet and exercise is not the answer we all just have to move to rhode island and BAM! Skinniness is ours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7125602851306416516?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7125602851306416516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7125602851306416516&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7125602851306416516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7125602851306416516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/simple.html' title='Simple'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8989013332905324491</id><published>2010-06-11T11:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T11:36:45.245-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All The Single Ladies.</title><content type='html'>I finally realized it's hopeless. Sandra Bullock is beautiful and successful. She can't find a decent man. How is someone who hates wearing dresses and make-up, and is just making ends meet, going to meet a winner?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8989013332905324491?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8989013332905324491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8989013332905324491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8989013332905324491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8989013332905324491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/all-single-ladies.html' title='All The Single Ladies.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6495756640877210702</id><published>2010-06-07T12:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T12:38:44.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unemployment is Still Pretty Bad</title><content type='html'>Here's an economic indicator there are record number of people running for office in NJ. It seems congress's inablity to do anything about the economic crisis is coming home to roost in NJ.  Many people who have lost their jobs are having trouble finding new ones.  A number of them feel going into politics is the easist solution. Unlike other industries politics doesn't require retraining or any type of new degrees or certificates. All you have to do is get out of the house and collect enough signatures to get your name on the ballot.  The best part is the opportunity for exercise and money saved on gas that collecting signatures provides, as the job is best done while walking. Then there is the mental stimulus of creating a web page and coming up with a political platform. Normally the unemployed spend their hours researching job openings and mailing off resumes, interspersed of course with viewing home recordings of cats, all of which can be intellectually tedius and let's face it boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, politics is similar to all other industries during this economic downturn congress, the executive branch, and judicial branch aren't hiring more people just different ones. So if an unemployed person does win a seat in congress it means that the guy who had a congress job will soon be on the unemployment line watching cat videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright employed people also watch cat videos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6495756640877210702?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6495756640877210702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6495756640877210702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6495756640877210702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6495756640877210702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/06/unemployment-is-still-pretty-bad.html' title='Unemployment is Still Pretty Bad'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8521898856929222376</id><published>2010-05-30T10:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T11:33:36.909-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A lot Competiton on Defensive End</title><content type='html'>There are many economists and politicians who like to espouse that free market competition is the best thing ever! These people we need competition for a healthy economy and a healthy nation. Perhaps. I don't know.  What I do know is about sports and about children (sure I'm not good with kids but working with them 9 hours a week for six months you get to know them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen kids compete? I have. Because I make them do relay races in an effort to tire them out so I don't have to hear how bored they are. Also relay races are easy to explain than the improvisational concept of "yes and."  You know what these kids do in a relay race? They cheat. They half-ass their duck walks, they don't do the requisite push-ups, and they run instead of skip.  They don't care about integrity they just want to win.  Sometimes I give incentives to winning like "The losing team has to do 10 push-ups" or "The winning team gets clean the desks with dangerous spray chemicals." (Hey kids love cleaning.) But even if I don't give an incentive these kids still cheat to win. Does that sound like any company you know that might have had it's mine collapse on 23 of its employees or a company that puts estrogen in the source of our drinking water?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next you have sports. Unlike children I love sports. Recently the NY Giants drafted something like three defensive ends.  They already have like 20 defensive ends. They're hoping to get the best out of the defensive ends they have by creating competition with the rookies. You know what happened the veterans began to pout. One is pretending he has a hip problem. Yeah. One might say they're acting like children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, around the league-- oh hell in all of professional sports from cycling to baseball to curling-- professional athletes use steroids. The problem with steroids is that no one really knows the long term effects of steroids on the human body because those studies aren't really allowed funding. Despite the lack of information these people take all kinds of steroids and performing enhancing drugs even though they don't know what will happen to their own body.   Why? Because they want to win and sign big contracts and endorsement deals. So if a person, who is a professional competitor, doesn't care about what happens to his/her body why would some entity like BP or Goldman Sachs care what happens to you? Or even to their shareholders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now,  I'm not writing that I don't love freedom and want to see it ended, on the contrary, I love freedom. I hate people telling me what to do. Like that stupid crossing-guard at the school. She tells me I can't park my bike on the side of the street where the school is located. Why? Because the children may trip.  You’re kidding me.  I'm not parking my bike on the steps of the school,  It’ll be locked to street sign. If the kids trip on my bike it’ll be because they walked into a street sign. The real reason the children will trip is because they're uncoordinated, little blobs who can't tie their shoes. Ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am saying is that just like baseball players corporations should be made to pee in a cup. But unlike baseball the test results shouldn't be easy to fake. AND! I shouldn't have to pee in a cup because I do not play defensive end (I’m just a smidge too small)  or pour toxins into drinking water.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8521898856929222376?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8521898856929222376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8521898856929222376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8521898856929222376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8521898856929222376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/lot-competiton-on-defensive-end.html' title='A lot Competiton on Defensive End'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5265892576298602723</id><published>2010-05-25T12:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T12:35:15.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Day I'll be a Crazy Old Person</title><content type='html'>Several decades from now, if I haven't killed myself with my mass consumption of butter, I'll be an old lady telling a room full of one-eyed, autistic children how in my day slick mammals swam through the sea. We called them dolphins.  They were like fish except they were warm blooded and really smart. Some people could talk to them and they helped the Navy fight against nuclear missiles.  Little deformed children would look at me and emotionally inappropriately scream at me, "LIAR! Rar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd tell them no. I'm not a liar. This was way back when, when I was a young woman. Back when most people had two eyes, humans looked pretty much the same with the same number of toes, fingers, heads and what not, and people could empathise with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children would start banging their heads on the floor and start crying, "Dolphins, no. Wierdo. Dolphins lie, raaar!" And that's when I'd realize that unicorns must have existed at some point, we probably just hunted them out of existence. I'd get up from the group of children and head to the drugstore. I'd have come down with a little case of the cancer and I need to get some Bayer over the counter "Cancer b Gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children will think I'm crazy but i'll know that dolphins once swam in the sea and they slept with a half a brain at a time so they wouldn't drown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5265892576298602723?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5265892576298602723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5265892576298602723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5265892576298602723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5265892576298602723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/one-day-ill-be-crazy-old-person.html' title='One Day I&apos;ll be a Crazy Old Person'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6086725966411992206</id><published>2010-05-20T13:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T13:25:16.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Open Thank You Letter</title><content type='html'>Dear BP,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to thank you whole heartedly for doing what I by law am not allowed to do, name punish the annoying children I deal with daily.  You see, BP, I like you have made some poor judgements. I decided, despite a normally functioning intellect, to pursue a career in "the arts." By doing so I've had to take a number of stupid low paying jobs. Most recently, I have acted as an after-school, arts teacher for young children. Children, most of whom are horrible. They hit each other say horrible things to one another, they have no intellectual curiosity, they are undisciplined just miserable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately my hands are tied by the law in ways I can punish the kids or get them to listen. I'm not allowed to hit them, call them names, send them to the corner, make them do push-up (which by the way is good for them), I can't shoot them. Nothing. So thank you, BP, because now these little fuckers will never know the joys of going to the beach for recreation. They won't be able to go swim in the ocean or eat fish, or sun bathe on the sands of the Atlantic or Gulf Coasts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I of course will miss my time at the beach now that your oil that has spilled into the ocean has started journeying on the loop current.  But, I have had 32 years going to the beach, I even have pictures that I can use to jog my memory when old age hits or when brain damage sets in from the random chemicals I have injested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon beaches all up the Atlantic coast will be ruined and these kids will finally be punished. Bravo. Well done. You should be applauded and awarded by all those who have to watch others' children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoping to die of a heart attack before the cancer gets me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6086725966411992206?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6086725966411992206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6086725966411992206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6086725966411992206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6086725966411992206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-open-thank-you-letter.html' title='My Open Thank You Letter'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8906368879318821150</id><published>2010-05-19T09:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T10:00:51.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Angle on the Same Supposition</title><content type='html'>So what's wrong with this country? Why are we in the shitter? Simple. We're a nation of immigrants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see what are immigrants but people who left their struggling, oppressed communities to make it for themselves.  "Yeah the British really are sticking it to us with the potato famine, good luck with supposed friends and family, I'm on the next ship out of here! Of course I'll write, suckers!"&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, you're right, uncle Sergio, this Italian government of ours is really corrupt. Yeah, you should definitely stick around and try to reform it so all Italian people may one day prosper. Me? I'm going to America. I'll send money back for the cause. Later, sap!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the picture. People who couldn't cut it or people who felt no sense of family obligation or sense of community. My point immigrants suck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, unlike most artist I actually have a solution. We all get sent back to our countries of origin. Of course for many of us who are interbred this is a minor problem. But all we have to do is come up with a way to seperate out our varying ethnic genes and/or draw and quarter ourselves and then figure out a way to make the independent pieces of ourselves to live whole lives where we came from.  Then no more sociopathic immigrants ruining it for the 3 Native Americans left and the spotted owl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't say I never did anything for humanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8906368879318821150?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8906368879318821150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8906368879318821150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8906368879318821150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8906368879318821150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/new-angle-on-same-supposition.html' title='A New Angle on the Same Supposition'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3123625384813728003</id><published>2010-05-17T11:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T11:05:16.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>United We Eat</title><content type='html'>There is so much talk about our differences in this country: Red state vs Blue, City vs Rural, Gay vs Straight, Stupid vs Me.  Enough already.  I believe there is something we can all get behind that is fried dough.  Everywhere in America fried dough is consumed, whether you call it funnel cake, zepoli, elephant ears or simply fried dough.  It's a food even vegetarians can eat if it's fried in corn oil instead of lard. It's eaten by the Kosher keepers and the Hallal diners. It's eaten by blacks and whites, short people and tall people. Hell even dumb ass vegans can eat it (you can make dough without eggs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my fellow Americans we are one people. A group of people who love their dough fried and coated in sugar and that is the sweetest thing of all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3123625384813728003?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3123625384813728003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3123625384813728003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3123625384813728003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3123625384813728003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/united-we-eat.html' title='United We Eat'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3911304944391487323</id><published>2010-05-12T09:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T09:28:47.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ruby Ridge 'em!</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you guys have heard but there is this huge oil slick in the Gulf of Mexico. Apparently, an oil well has gone awry and BP oil company can't stop it from spewing enviromentally unfriendly oil into our waters.  According to some reports, such as the NY Times, the regulators told the oil companies and their subcontractors to make the oil well safer. The oil companies said, "Oh don't worry about it. What we have in place will be fine. An oil spill is soooo unlikely." And the regulators were like, "Really? This doesn't seem that safe. Norway doesn't it do it this way." "Come on. It's fine. Norway. Please. The drill in ice we're in the gulf." And then you know what the regulators did they said, "OK. If you guys say so." WHAT?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new idea about regulating big business who's practices threaten our well being. Use guns. You know how we do when someone is stock piling weapons. FBI agents didn't go down to Dave Koresh's compound, talk to him, and when he said, "Don't worry about it, these guns are just for fun. Nothing bad is going to happen. I mean, I'm Jesus the lord and savior for crying out loud I'm goodness." The FBI didn't say, "Oh OK." What the did was get the ATF and their fire power and stormed the bastille.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the dude who set up a car bomb in time square last week was arrested do you think the cops went in with a pencil and clipboard or they busted down his door and put thier feet on his chest. And this guy showed the same ineptitude at building something that works as BP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This spill is going to hurt a great deal more people and more industry than 911, not to mention other creatures, granted arent' US citizens, but haven't done anything to warrant an attack on their home, much like Czechslovakia in the 1930s and we brought guns to that fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time some company doesn't want to follow regulations you go get your state troopers bust down the door to all their office and CEO, COO, CFO, and board members homes and you arrest the lot of them get a paddy wagon you used in the 60s to take in hundreds of Vietnam protestors and civil rights activits. You service those paddy wagons up and fill them with these employees and have them start talking. Anyway who is defying regulation lock'em up. Or better yet just set the buildings on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what's great in BP's case they're British, some i'm sure we can military tribunal them, and torture them. Let's get on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3911304944391487323?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3911304944391487323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3911304944391487323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3911304944391487323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3911304944391487323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/ruby-ridge-em.html' title='Ruby Ridge &apos;em!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3839781251991237801</id><published>2010-05-11T09:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T09:56:02.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Charity Begins at Home</title><content type='html'>Support gay marriage! Keep divorce lawyers fed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3839781251991237801?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3839781251991237801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3839781251991237801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3839781251991237801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3839781251991237801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/charity-begins-at-home.html' title='Charity Begins at Home'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5179397287274103582</id><published>2010-05-10T10:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T12:09:45.852-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not Subsidizing Your Life</title><content type='html'>This weekend I hosted my 11 year old cousin. Let me tell you she's a little communist.  At one point we went for ice cream. She ordered chocolate ice cream in a waffle cone.  Then she didn't pay for it. She looked at me as if I were to pay for it. I asked her, "Where's your money?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't have any?"&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you work?"&lt;br /&gt;"No."&lt;br /&gt;"So I'm supposed to subsidize your lazy ass just because I make more money than you?"&lt;br /&gt;She just shrugged her shoulders and the man behind the counter looked like he was about to call the cops on her. If she go arrested I probably would have to give back the money our aunt gave me to watch her.&lt;br /&gt;Later we were in the book store and she wanted a book. I said to her, "Explain to me again why you don't have a job and think you're entitled to stuff."&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. I'm not allowed to get a job."&lt;br /&gt;"That's ridiculous everyone is America is allowed to work this isn't some fascist state where only the Polish work."&lt;br /&gt;"They said in school that kids used to work but now they can't because it's bad for us."&lt;br /&gt;"That's just propaganda spread by your socialist teachers. If you had a job then you wouldn't be in school. If you're not in school they don't have anyone to teach, then they'll be outside bookstores begging for me to subsidize their reading habits."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh is right."&lt;br /&gt;Does she really think working is bad for you? Corporations have the best interests of their employees at heart. Of course companies can't account for the stupidity of their workers. Kids working in factories we're obviously goofing off. If they hadn't been they might have been able to keep those arms and toes.  The kids today just lazy hippies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5179397287274103582?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5179397287274103582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5179397287274103582&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5179397287274103582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5179397287274103582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-not-subsidizing-your-life.html' title='I&apos;m not Subsidizing Your Life'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-2534221709577078484</id><published>2010-05-05T10:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T10:51:32.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Aren't You Crying? I'm Crying!</title><content type='html'>These days everyone seems to hate teachers and their Unions.  That's fine. I don't have fond memories of most my teachers either. Unfortunately, people seem to hate teachers because they get really good health insurance fully paid, a pension, and thing called tenure.  I understand that the real reason people are mad about all these great benefits is because they have to pay for them with their property taxes. Fine. But can we just say that. Instead of the ridiculous reason given, "In my job I have to contribute to my health insurance, and I don't get a pension, and if I screw up at my job I get fired, there's no tenure."  Great, and while you're at it why don't you outlaw ice cream because you're lactose intolerant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you want everyone to be miserable and suffer? Just because your life is shit why should everyone else's life be shit?  Instead, why don't you become a teacher if you think they have it so good?  Or why don't you unionize? Use that computer in your cube and the colored paper in your company's supply closet and start printing out leaflets. Threaten to strike if you don't get fully paid health-benefits, a pension, and tenure. And while your striking try asking for your summers off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't like those options well I guess you can become a cop, a firefighter, or a unionized factory worker. There is also always nursing since you like watching suffering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-2534221709577078484?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/2534221709577078484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=2534221709577078484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2534221709577078484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2534221709577078484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-arent-you-crying-im-crying.html' title='Why Aren&apos;t You Crying? I&apos;m Crying!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5797658507035754150</id><published>2010-05-03T11:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T11:44:45.710-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Correlation is not Causation. Or it is in Reverse.</title><content type='html'>There was an article on MSN last week stating that people who lack personal relationships (such as romantic partners and friends) are more likely to be depressed. This of course is not the first time I've heard this hypothesis.  Basically if you don't have friends or a boyfriend/girlfriend you're going to be depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder is that the case? Or is the reverse true, people who are depressed can't make friends and can't get laid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey depressive friend Claira, do you want hang out this weekend?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure."&lt;br /&gt;"What do you want to do?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. How about you come over and we sit in my room with the shades drawn? We could brainstorm on the quickest ways to kill ourselves."&lt;br /&gt;"Really Claira? We did that last week. That's what you always want to do."&lt;br /&gt;"Alright. We could read Slyvia Plath poetry."&lt;br /&gt;"How are we supposed to see the book with the shades drawn?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, you're right. I'm so stupid. I have no right breathing. Ugh. It's all so hard. I can't do this anymore."&lt;br /&gt;"Alright, well. that's my other line. I have to take this call."&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, you should."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is depressive Claira supposed to find a date if she's constantly bursting into tears. Say she finally gets herself out of the house and to a bar then what?&lt;br /&gt;"Claira, nice to meet you."&lt;br /&gt;"You too Pat, oh god! Wah Wah Wah."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my god! What's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;"It's wah...sniff...um...do you have a tissue? Wah. It's this song."&lt;br /&gt;"It's just Tupac."&lt;br /&gt;"I know and he's dead. Wah wah wah. And if he's not dead could you imagine having to hide out like that when you have talent and future. It's so sad."&lt;br /&gt;"Right. Um. I think I have to go wash my hair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying maybe depressed people don't have friends because depression makes you unfriendable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5797658507035754150?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5797658507035754150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5797658507035754150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5797658507035754150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5797658507035754150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/05/correlation-is-not-causation-or-it-is.html' title='Correlation is not Causation. Or it is in Reverse.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-7040361763208983383</id><published>2010-04-29T12:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T12:11:30.462-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this Fair? No.</title><content type='html'>If I were to go out and kill like 20 people or 200 people and then get caught the story in the papers would be how unfunny and impotent I was as a comedian, which is completely untrue and unfair. I'm not saying I'm some comedy genius but I have written and performed some funny bits.  Just because I do, what many might perceive as a bad thing, my work will be unfairly judged.  Hitler wasn't a bad painter because he was a vicious dictator. He was a vicious dictator because he was a horrible painter, or maybe no one recognized him as a artistic force. (I've never seen a Hitler painting.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the flipside of course if I were to be raped and murdered and left on the side of the road the story would be how my brilliant comedy light had been extinguished way too early. Again not fair because I’m dead and I could have written some good jokes about my murder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is jail should be the punishment for a killing spree and not bullshit disparagement of my work just because you don't like the other things I did with my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-7040361763208983383?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/7040361763208983383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=7040361763208983383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7040361763208983383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/7040361763208983383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-this-fair-no.html' title='Is this Fair? No.'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5357176255558137092</id><published>2010-04-28T10:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T11:19:32.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom Fries! Yes!</title><content type='html'>Alright so there is a big hub bub going on in Arizona about their new immigration law.  What I find crazy is that immigration both legal and illegal has become an Hispanic (Latino) issue. That's just racist. Not just on the part of Arizona legislature but also on the part of Hispanic people who go to all these immigration rallies.  Sorry burst everyone's bubble but spanish speaking people aren't the only illegal immigrants in this country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about the French?  When I first moved to Portland, OR I was staying in a hostel. That hostel was housing an illegal French girl, whose name I can not recall because it was foriegn and French sounding. Not only was trying to find someone to hire her "under the table" but she had a crush on an American who was in a relationship with another American. I dare say her sole reason for staying here was to wreak havoc on the American family. Granted this dude and his girlfriend weren't married, but if Frenchy kept to her own country and her own that live there, perhaps they would have had a shot at marriage.  Where were the Portland Police department? Why wasn't anyone taking the French threat more seriously?  Yes, this was before 9/11 before the French decided not to back us in Iraq. But, we should have known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would have been one thing if this French girl, who didn't like rootbeer or cinamon-how unAmerican, was trying to date a guy no American woman wanted to date. Meeting the jobless, unathletic, not too bright man, who lives with his Aunt (because his mother threw him out) for a night at the movies where she has to pay. Fine. I understand. Perhaps there is a shortage of men in France and a lady needs companionship. But the audacity of her trying to steal an American man from an American woman, well, call immigration and deport her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now how do you look for illegal Frenchies? Simple look for pale people with narrow fox-like noses sitting in cafes in the afternoon. They probably will be slimmer than most of us, unless it's Gerard Depardieu. (What jerk he is taking roles away from American Actors). They won't be eating freedom fries either. Look for underarm hair under the ladies arms. Warning, some unshaven women are just hippies and not French at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with hunting down the illegal French is that the don't just cross into Arizona, they could be living anywhere in the country, even Detriot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say what you will about Hispanics but I don't see them stealing anyone's possible husbands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5357176255558137092?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5357176255558137092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5357176255558137092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5357176255558137092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5357176255558137092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/freedom-fries-yes.html' title='Freedom Fries! Yes!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1685717347600056445</id><published>2010-04-27T11:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T12:12:16.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Finally Finished this Song!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_kQvVM_QUJc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_kQvVM_QUJc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1685717347600056445?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1685717347600056445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1685717347600056445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1685717347600056445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1685717347600056445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-finally-finished-this-song.html' title='I Finally Finished this Song!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5987467878555199284</id><published>2010-04-25T23:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T23:43:05.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's in a Name?</title><content type='html'>Good news everyone. Alleged sexual assualtist, Ben Rothlesberger, is not a Jew.  His name would make a person think, perhaps Jewish as would his coloring, however, according to wikipedia he is of Scandinavian descent. The Scandinavian can handle a scandal right now. The worst thing they've done, recently, is host a volcano, whose dust cloud shut down Northern Europe's airspace. Yes, inconvenient and costly, but not really the Scandinavians fault. Meanwhile, the Jewish people are still trying to live down Bernie Madoff. So they do not need Ben Rothlesberger on their team and thankfully he's not. Ike Davis, the new Met 1st baseman, is a Jew. Not only is he hitting a ton his first week in the majors, he has yet to be publicly accused of sexual misconduct. Go Ike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd also like to point out Ben Rothlesberger is not a woman. Some might find this observation to be obvious as he is a professional football player, however, with the way he allegedly treats women, one might think he's a woman himself (herself?). As we all know no one is worse to a woman than another woman. Granted, women don't usually wip out their penises infront of other women, but we sure can make each other cry.   And right now the last thing women-folk need is some bad publicity. I mean how will ever get paid equal pay for equal work? We won't if Ben Rothlesberger is one of us and I'm so glad he isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5987467878555199284?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5987467878555199284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5987467878555199284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5987467878555199284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5987467878555199284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a Name?'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-308418580766235797</id><published>2010-04-19T19:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T20:01:00.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rodents. Urg!</title><content type='html'>There many horrible things about NYC but one of the worst is the rodent problem in this town. You can't get rid of them even if you move.  I've decided to spread &lt;em&gt;Sweet N Low &lt;/em&gt;all over my floor so the mice will get cancer and die.  People have told me this plan will take to long to kill them but at least the invaders will suffer. And good luck to those guys finding medical marijuana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing that befuddles me is how does the 4 Seasons Hotel and the W hotel keep their hotels rodent free. These place can't have a guest find a mouse in the room it would ruin their reputation and they wouldn't be able to charge upwards of $400 dollars a night. I want to know what they do. If it's expensive...well...I guess I'm shit out of luck, but if it's just immoral I'm in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-308418580766235797?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/308418580766235797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=308418580766235797&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/308418580766235797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/308418580766235797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/rodents-urg.html' title='Rodents. Urg!'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6654996038814783823</id><published>2010-04-15T13:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T13:32:56.639-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fidelity</title><content type='html'>Tiger Woods' sex life has been in the media these last 6 months or however long. Some have defended Woods' actions stating things like, (here this next sentence with a Brooklyn dialect) "If every guy who cheated on his wife lost his job, we wouldn't have much of a workforce."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm. Why are you people getting married? Did you know you don't have to get married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to sleep around then don't get married. If your mother won't let you live with her into your 30s and 40s, and therefore you have no one to clean up after you and cook for you, hire a maid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. I know. You want kids. Easy.  Gay people have children all the time and their not allowed to get married. I'm sure you can figure something out, like hiring a hooker to have your kid. Or a college student looking for tuition. You can adopt. Homesexuals adopt children why can't a womanizer or manizer (depending on your gender. I don't believe philandering is a male dominated hobby.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying this is America and most of us aren't Amish, so we don't have arranged marriages.  Here's a slogan for you "Stop being a douche. Stay single."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6654996038814783823?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6654996038814783823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6654996038814783823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6654996038814783823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6654996038814783823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/fidelity.html' title='Fidelity'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1239715284901805717</id><published>2010-04-14T11:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T11:57:09.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Latest and Greatest</title><content type='html'>So the Droid phone has a new ad out basically bragging that it can help you find constellations. Was this a problem before? Where there phone users out there for the past hundred years bemoaning the fact that while they were talking on the telephone they, for the life of them, could not remember which one was the Big Dipper and which one was Orion's belt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone out with their friends hit upon a conversation where they were trying to remember find out who sang that song with the whistling in the begining and then a man and woman sing something about the young folks and the old folks only to realize how insignificant that question is when you realize there is a whole universe above us that we can't navigate from our bar stool right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what Droid? How about you take your head out of the clouds and give me a working keypad, that isn't a touch screen and an included memo app.  Or if we're going to make an amazing phone that does crazy shit, how about a phone that bakes bread. I rather have bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Note that song is entitled the Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John.**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1239715284901805717?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1239715284901805717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1239715284901805717&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1239715284901805717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1239715284901805717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/latest-and-greatest.html' title='The Latest and Greatest'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-6985422908179997522</id><published>2010-04-12T11:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T11:42:07.148-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Youth Movement</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to look more youthful, so in public I have stopped eating my vegetables.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-6985422908179997522?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/6985422908179997522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=6985422908179997522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6985422908179997522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/6985422908179997522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/youth-movement.html' title='The Youth Movement'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-82259856301504337</id><published>2010-04-05T14:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T15:15:58.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation Escape</title><content type='html'>People usually take vacations to exotic locales, or relaxing locales, or crazy-fun-party locales.  What a horribly wrong choice. If you are vacationing you should pick a destination that is worse than where you live. Otherwise when you get home you'll be depressed that 50 weeks out of the year this is your actual life. Sure you can go to Bermuda and relax on the beach for two weeks drinking fruity alcoholic deliciousness. So when you come home you realize your life is rat race to see who can eat the most shit. Or you can travel to Detroit, Michigan in the winter. Save money by squatting in a foreclosed home. When you get back to your own life you sure will be thankful and propbably most eager to head back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure you can go on Safari in Africa or you can go to Bangledesh during Monsoon season. Which vacation do you think will make you appreciate the horrible life you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know that air travel does try to make you wish for home on your back from these fun destinations. What with the having to nearly strip, to late flights, to turbulence and crying children aboard your flight. But does that really make you wish for home or does it make you wish you were back at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage fest feasting on cajun food, listening to world class music, and partying like it's 1999.  Skip the jazzfest and the skiing trips and learn to love your actual life next time try travellig to the drug cartel ravaged Mexico.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-82259856301504337?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/82259856301504337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=82259856301504337&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/82259856301504337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/82259856301504337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/04/vacation-escape.html' title='Vacation Escape'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-8184288507263756079</id><published>2010-03-25T09:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T09:55:00.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Violent Death Worse Than Dirt</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I was unable to shower due to the fact that someone from outside my apartment was probably going to kill me. I don't know who that someone was, but he or she was possibly out there and was ready to thwart my front door and kill me.  If my roommates had been home I would have had a line of defense to protecting me during my vulnerable shower time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A collegue suggested that people are usually killed by someone they know and I was more likely to be murdered by my roommates. That might be true. However, I feel I could "take" my roommates in combat even with soap in my eyes while standing on slippery, tub surface. You, the reader, now ask, "How would these two provide a line of defense if they were home while you were showering?"  The answer: A stranger only knows that there are two men in the apartment, one a black man the other over 6 feet tall. The outsider having not had the opportunity to actually get to know my roommates would have to go on a snap judgement and stereo-types and not on the intimate knowledge I have of them. Further, the two would probably work together to protect the apartment, while only one would likely want to kill me at any given time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question is what if while your roommates are home your apartment is stormed by bandits and not a single criminal working alone? Answer: Our apartment is not in South America where people like to work in teams of bandits when committing criminal acts. Instead it's in the USA, home of the rugged individual including those US citizens whose life's calling is to murder me in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see there was no way I could have showered, yesterday, while alone in the apartment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-8184288507263756079?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/8184288507263756079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=8184288507263756079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8184288507263756079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/8184288507263756079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/03/violent-death-worse-than-dirt.html' title='Violent Death Worse Than Dirt'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-1827128418446207918</id><published>2010-03-24T12:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T12:26:18.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Perhaps I'm Still Too Young for 60minutes</title><content type='html'>So I found myself watching 60minutes this past Sunday? Why? Because I like to be informed. Alright,  I can't even keep a straight face typing that. Well, I was home constructing chicken puppets for a dozen 2nd graders.  In order to keep myself from hurling myself out of my 6th floor window I decided to put on the television to escape my arts and crafts nightmare. Unfortunately, I do not have cable and 60 Minutes was the only palpable reality TV on at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question to you is, "Has Andy Rooney ever been relevant or in touch with what is actually going on in the world?" His fix for the recession was that people start becoming plumbers. According to him there is a ton of work to be done out there, but too many people have advanced degrees and feel that being a plumber is beneath them and won't apply to be one. What? I bet you any of the 20somethings out there with crazy college debt working at Starbucks would be happy to work as plumber making at least $60,000 a year instead of just over minimum wage. I wonder what is stopping them? Hmmm. Oh I bet plumbing was offered at 8:00am and these lazy, snobby kids slept through plumbing 101, and electrician 102.  How will they ever get in the union now?&lt;br /&gt;Of course Andy Rooney took his college degree and he didn't go into working with his hands. He didn't work at a factory, though for his generation that was actually possible. No, he became an elitist effete journalist. Why does he get to follow is his dreams but the rest of us should get off our high horses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, despite my greying hair and my ever rocketship ride through my 30s I'm still not old enough to truly comprehend 60 minutes. Well, there's a bright side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-1827128418446207918?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/1827128418446207918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=1827128418446207918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1827128418446207918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/1827128418446207918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/03/perhaps-im-still-too-young-for.html' title='Perhaps I&apos;m Still Too Young for 60minutes'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-4050988366828600806</id><published>2010-03-19T09:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T09:55:52.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of My Best Friend Anna</title><content type='html'>So Anna and I were hanging the other day catching up.  Right in the middle of us discussing Amy Adam's ability to act well enough to trascend her high pitched voice right as I was about to use &lt;u&gt;Sunshine Cleaning&lt;/u&gt; as an example, Anna blurts out, "I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you can be in a relationship. As much as I want one I don't know that I could give up the flirting. The talking to cute boys in bars and the excitedly waiting for emails in my inbox. The hope of a future with someone. The running through of all the possibilities of fun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anna, I'm not dead. I can still flirt."&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, but then wouldn't you feel horribly guilty that you wasted some poor single boy's time? A boy who is just looking for love and the right girl and of course the emotional betrayl to Jack."&lt;br /&gt;"Um. What boys are you talking about."&lt;br /&gt;"Then of course, Rachael, you're ego would be crushed when he didn't email."&lt;br /&gt;"Wait! What? How would I feel guilty and then crushed? And who said he wouldn't email. I'm sure this boy just looking for love wouldn't be completely smitten with me whether or not I had a boyfriend.  Listen missy, just because you're single life is riddled with rejection doesn't mean that my hypothetical adulterous life is!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we started talking about how &lt;u&gt;The Proposal&lt;/u&gt;  wasn't bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-4050988366828600806?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/4050988366828600806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=4050988366828600806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4050988366828600806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/4050988366828600806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/03/return-of-my-best-friend-anna.html' title='The Return of My Best Friend Anna'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-5043700171809839482</id><published>2010-03-18T10:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T10:15:25.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>But It's What We Do Best</title><content type='html'>Earlier this week concerns about how to keep Asian Coy from populating American Great lakes was reported. Umm.  Really? Isn't that what humans do best? Hunting or fishing a species to extinction. You don't see Wooly Mammaths walking around this continent anymore do you? And we can thank the Clovis people.  I'm just saying I don't think this should be a pressing issue. I think we can handle the Asian Coy like we've handled like the spotted owl. Unless Asian Coy or the subway rats of the lake. Then we're fucked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-5043700171809839482?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/5043700171809839482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=5043700171809839482&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5043700171809839482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/5043700171809839482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/03/but-its-what-we-do-best.html' title='But It&apos;s What We Do Best'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-3468409675667874609</id><published>2010-03-12T12:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T12:48:16.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuclear Winter</title><content type='html'>More and more countries have the bomb. It's scary. However, I'm comforted by the fact that when I die in a nuclear holocaust so will all the rats and mice of NYC. Part of me thinks that's worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-3468409675667874609?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/3468409675667874609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=3468409675667874609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3468409675667874609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/3468409675667874609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/03/nuclear-winter.html' title='Nuclear Winter'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-59727347222271656</id><published>2010-02-28T22:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T23:06:37.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All of a sudden it's March</title><content type='html'>Anyone else feel like February rips them off? I feel like my landlord is getting one over on me. I pay the same amount of rent for February as I do for all the other months. February is at least 2 days shorter than other months. And as we know it's 3 days shorter than others. I want 2.5 days of rent money back. That's almost a hundred dollars (granted split 3 ways among me and my two other roommates, but still nearly $33.33. Man, the possiblities. I could treat myself to an almost very nice dinner, like something other than a burrito. I could pay my share of the electric bill and have enough left over for a burrito. I could pay my share of the cable bill and the gas bill and than maybe split an order of nachos. I could buy an unlimited metro card for a week and then get a donut. I could hunt down my enemies and nail them with a cream pie when it was a really bad time for them to be humilated with sugar and fat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying I think February was invented by the real-estate industry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-59727347222271656?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/59727347222271656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=59727347222271656&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/59727347222271656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/59727347222271656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-of-sudden-its-march.html' title='All of a sudden it&apos;s March'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11942972.post-2939318676129346734</id><published>2010-02-26T14:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T14:32:03.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut Up About Your Weather</title><content type='html'>My least favorite thing about Mid Atlantic snowstorms is people from the Midwest scoffing at us. Yes, there ridiculousness is more annoying than my little legs trying to find safe passage across the ponds that meet me at every intersection during snowstorms.  These Midwesterners and some great lake regionites call up radio stations and say things like, "Oh this is nothing. Come on, people, it's just some snow. 12 inches? We wouldn't even call that a snowstorm that's beach weather. Grab the suntan lotion let's go surfing. Well, if we weren't land locked."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's surprising to me that these same expatriot snowbirds don't make the claims about obesity. "Oh god, you New Yorkers think that an extra 20lbs is fat. Please, that's swim suit model. We have fat people. We have heart disease. You guys with your sissy non-chain resturaunts to chose from. Please and all the walking you guys do and up and down subway steps. None of that is possible here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you this Midwesterners I saw a couple of native New Yorkers probably 17 years old on the subway last night. The two girls were dressed in fishnet stockings and 3 inch heels. Not only was it cold, wet, and slushy out it was also a Thursday! Don't tell me we can't handle winter weather, I'd like to see any of you drive a car in that outfit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11942972-2939318676129346734?l=rparenta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/feeds/2939318676129346734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11942972&amp;postID=2939318676129346734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2939318676129346734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11942972/posts/default/2939318676129346734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rparenta.blogspot.com/2010/02/shut-up-about-your-weather.html' title='Shut Up About Your Weather'/><author><name>rachael</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07353592527730907915</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/99/5217/320/one%20knee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
