<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960</id><updated>2009-10-08T17:43:15.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is My Atlanta</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-5395151604873425117</id><published>2008-10-05T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T20:23:22.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Moment Of Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I awoke today to find an unbelievably quiet house all to myself. I snuck through each room just to make sure I was the only one around. Thankfully, I was. It's not very often that I can enjoy a peaceful Sunday morning. There are usually kids running, arguments popping up, etc. Anything &lt;em&gt;but &lt;/em&gt;silence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;But today, today was all mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I poured a glass of juice and planted myself in a chair on the front porch. The dog accompanied me and had a great time frolicking around inside the confines of our picket fence. The weather was perfect - warm enough to fight away a chill, with the slightest fall breeze blowing the hair from my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;My neighborhood is all a flutter with people on the weekends. Everyone is out walking their dogs, biking, taking the kids for a stroll - it's quite nice to just sit and watch. Every so often Cameron would gallop up to the fence to greet a passerby. Dogs make friends so easily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I could hear the choir from a church two doors up. People were driving up and down the street in search of parking. The stragglers would hurry up the road, bible in hand. One man parked in front of our house directly under a "No Parking" sign. As he walked away, he turned back several times as though he were debating on whether to leave his car there. Little did he know people do it all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I sat in slince on the porch just watching life happen. Nobody knew I was there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Then, walking up the sidewalk towards the church, a man appeared. He had Down's Syndrome. He wore dress clothes and a messenger bag draped over his shoulder. In his right hand, the Holy Bible. He walked with a persistence and perseverance. He didn't notice me. He never looked down at Cameron as she hopped over to the gate. He just walked on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Without warning, my eyes watered and I began to cry. It was right then that I knew I had everything I have ever wanted and it gave me peace. I have so much to be thankful for and it overcame me all at once. I think I also cried for the man on his way to church - so many obstacles in his way but he walked on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I'm gonna keep walking, too. I can beat you, Atlanta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I'm not going anywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-5395151604873425117?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/5395151604873425117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=5395151604873425117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5395151604873425117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5395151604873425117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/10/moment-of-silence.html' title='A Moment Of Silence'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-5206869848999509473</id><published>2008-10-02T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T10:41:20.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblin' woMan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;I'm bored out of my mind. This schedule has me wanting to do harmful things to myself and those around me. I only have a few weeks to go before **hopefully** I'll have weekends off. It's such a lonely way of life to work when your friends don't and vice versa. I sit here all week with absolutely nothing to do....nowhere to go....nobody to see...solitude. Solitude sucks. I guess it's nice to have time to myself, to collect my thoughts and what not, but you kinda start to go out of your mind before too long. I'm sure if I had a boyfriend or my son lived with me or whatever I'd be grateful to have so much time to think...but...I've found that too much time on your hands is a bad thing. What's that saying about idle hands and the Devil?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;I desperately need to get back into MMA. My back is all healed and my knee is all healed and I need to relieve some pent up anxiety. I miss martial arts so much. My bag full of equipment is in my closet and every now and then I take it out and give it a good whiff just to remind me of what blood, sweat and tears smells like. Ha. We should be getting our allotted $250 at work for the health &amp;amp; wellness program they've set up - every employee gets free money to spend on whatever they choose as long as it's related to health and wellness. I think I wanna buy a punching bag, but I dunno where I'd put it. How fun though, to have my own bag and be able to go out and do some muay thai whenever I want. I might just do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm tempted to go buy crafty things and give the old artsy fartsy thing a go again. I used to do a ton of art and now I don't - mainly because I'm poor but also because I don't really know that it drives me anymore. I kinda lost interest as opposed to lack of funds. And what am I saying, I'm not poor - far from it, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why I'm so down on myself lately. I live in a gorgeous house, I drive a nice car, I live in an awesome neighborhood, I meet cool people everywhere I go...but...something is missing. Something is lacking. Dunno what it is and it bugs me that I can't put my finger on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's the fact that I've lost my sunglasses. I never lose things. I don't have all that much space of my own to actually lose anything - misplace maybe, but not lose. But, they're gone. I'll find them in like 2 years when my prescription will be all wacked out and they'll be of no use to me. Here's a question I want answered: Can you buy cheapo sunglass frames at like Target or somewhere and have prescription lenses put in them? I wanna do that if it's possible. I see so many cool frames that I'd love to have but there's no way I'd be able to see farther than 2 inches in front of my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting old. That's why my vision is shot. I'll be 28 this month. If you didn't realize, 28 rounds up to 30 which rounds up to 40 which rounds up to 80 which equals death. I'm almost dead by all accounts. If I don't have a fun birthday this year I think I may need to be placed on suicide watch. I need cheering up. I need excitement. I need fun times a million bajillion. I've always had sucky birthdays. I thought at least by now somebody nice would have thrown me a surprise party - I mean in 27 years its never happened. There have been 27 chances to shock the shit outta me and throw me a surprise party but nope, never. That's quite sad if you ask me. People need surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a pack of cigarrettes in my car yesterday. They're Camel Lights. If you're the rightful owner, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I'm going to smoke them...every last one. I found a pack of Newports under the passenger's seat like 3 nights ago. I gave those away because they were menthol. I'm not a smoker and non-smoker's definitely don't smoke menthols. But I will smoke Camel Lights. I'm really not a smoker. I'll smoke at a bar if I'm drinking but not otherwise. And this week I went out 2 nights in a row to bars and smoked like a chimney...but...the next day...no cravings. I'm like a medical mystery in that respect. I can smoke and smoke and smoke and not become addicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going outside now to enjoy this beautiful fall day...and blacken a tiny corner of my lung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-5206869848999509473?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/5206869848999509473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=5206869848999509473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5206869848999509473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5206869848999509473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/10/ramblin-woman.html' title='Ramblin&apos; woMan'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-1157738017917955048</id><published>2008-09-30T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T11:47:09.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Keep Swimming</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Lastnight was one of the weirdest nights in probably my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began with unbelievable drama at my house - not involving me - between the other occupants in the house. Basically, the family I live with needs some serious counseling. I'll leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided late in the evening, against my better judgement, to meet up with a friend at Northside Tavern on Howell Mill...all the while knowing I was almost out of gas....amidst a gas crisis....yeah, great idea. For some reason, I tried to navigate through the city as opposed to hopping on 85. And of course, I got lost. Not only did I get lost, I got lost in the hood. I don't mean the hood like "Oh, this is a lower income part of town." No, I mean the hood where, at a traffic light, a man walked up to my car wanting money and called me a 'white bitch' when I waved him away. Now if I were in the 'burbs and a guy walked up to my car and said that, I'd have no qualms about getting out and giving him a taste of my martial arts training. That's not an option down here, though. I had my windows down at the next light and noticed the gas station next to me had cars lined up at the pumps - not sure why because they didn't actually have any gas - but I did get the attention of two gentlemen perched on the hood of their car who called out "Hey white girl! Hey white girl, come over here! Hey bitch, I'm talkin' to you!" Yeah, fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was right around that time that my gas light came on and I almost had a heart attack. Luckily my friend knows his way around the city and was able to navigate over the phone and get me to the bar safely - but on fumes. So then I couldn't even chill and have a good time because I knew I didn't have enough gas to drive home and had passed a million stations, all of which were dry. I asked the bartender if he thought it was cool for me to leave my car there overnight and return with a gas can at some point. He told me it should be fine but not to leave any valuables in it. I was picturing pulling up in a cab the next day with a few drops of gas to find my car sitting on blocks and my windows busted out. Not good. We ended up taking a cab down the road and the first station we came to had gas...thank heavens. I guess if you want gas, you hafta go in the middle of the night. Lucky for me I only have a 30 MILE DRIVE TO WORK EVERYDAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the month I've lived here, I've had not one "friend" offer to come over and see my new place, go eat a meal, hang out, etc. Everyone lives in the suburbs and nobody wants to drive down here and blah blah blah. It's amazing how your so-called friends show their true colors when you're in need, whether it be needing a favor or just a shoulder to lean on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm basically feeling an overwhelming culture shock and questioning if I can really make it down here after all. I'm just used to living in a place where people are nice to you and hold doors for you and offer to help you or just say "hi" with a smile as they pass. I was called a bitch at Kroger a couple weeks ago by the guy in line behind me because I apparently wasn't putting my groceries on the belt quick enough. Then a few days later a guy cussed me out for not picking up dog shit. It's just crazy to me, the balls that people have down here and how ruthless everyone is. Nobody's nice, nobody's friendly....it's like everyone is pissed off at the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-1157738017917955048?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/1157738017917955048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=1157738017917955048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/1157738017917955048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/1157738017917955048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-keep-swimming.html' title='Just Keep Swimming'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-7238380388956206902</id><published>2008-09-25T21:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:12:46.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Blog Sucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;No, really. It does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-7238380388956206902?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/7238380388956206902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=7238380388956206902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/7238380388956206902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/7238380388956206902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-blog-sucks.html' title='This Blog Sucks'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-8872183750276777476</id><published>2008-09-19T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T22:28:50.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing To See Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;I'm soooo glad fall weather has arrived in Atlanta. So glad, in fact, that it inspired me to take the dog on a 3 mile walk this afternoon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;So, if you're not familiar, I live pretty much on the border of Little 5 Points and Candler Park. I like walking on Moreland Ave if I'm in the mood to sightsee and people watch but, on days like today, McLendon is my cup of tea for a relaxed stroll through the neighborhood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;So Cameron and I go about our merry way down McLendon toward Candler Park...when...all of the sudden...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Cameron stops to take a shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;On a busy street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;A busy street full of ongoing construction, cars, people, traffic lights every hundred yards, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;It turns out there's no possible way to look cool in this situation.  Do you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;A) stand there, acknowledging your dog is taking a dump, eyeing every turd that drops out of her happy ass...all the while passersby are beyond embarrassed for you, yet completely entertained by how pathetic your situation is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;or  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;B) look into the distance as though something highly interesting has caught your attention, seemingly distracting you from the problem at hand...all the while knowing what's going on and assuming everyone passing knows that you know...because they do...they know you know and they know you're pretending to not know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;And besides, what the hell are you supposed to be pretending to look at?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Low flying plane?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Purse snatching?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Zombie takeover?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Doesn't matter anyway. Everyone driving by knows that you know even if you're pretending to not know. They're all laughing at you. They hate you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;So she stops and drops a load. And I, being the "green goddess" that I am...leave the steaming pile right there in the grass and keep on truckin'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Now I know what you're thinking...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"MAGGI! Pet waste is hazardous to people. You should always clean up after your pet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Not happening. I refuse to carry a bag of turds on a 3 mile walk. Nope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Dumb dog. I mean, doesn't she want some friggin' privacy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Anyway, the weather has been spot on for the likes of fall and I'm diggin' it. Hell, I was at Brewhouse the other night on the patio and it was almost chilly enough to put on a little jacket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;So I'm looking forward to the Halloween festivities coming up in L5P. There's a cool parade and lotsa neat happenings. Prior to that though, I'm gonna try to check out Bill Sheffield at Northside Tavern on October 11th. And most importantly, I turn 28 on October 25th. Grr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Three cheers for birthdays and poop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-8872183750276777476?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/8872183750276777476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=8872183750276777476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/8872183750276777476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/8872183750276777476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/09/nothing-to-see-here.html' title='Nothing To See Here'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-5394928807961209379</id><published>2008-09-10T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T07:08:45.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;I'm all settled in at my new place. Check out the pictures on MySpace if you're curious. I think there are a couple that clearly show my street number if you're into stalking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;One of the pictures is of our bidet. If you're not familiar with what a bidet is, you need to Wikipedia that bitch. It's basically a contraption resembling a toilet and it's used to clean your private areas - basically like a big 'ol porcelein douche. I used it for the first time the other day. Yeah, um...yeah. I felt a little weird about using it just because it's technically not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;house, therefore it's technically not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;bidet. And that's a little gross to use someone else's bidet - like "Hey Mary, can I use those last couple drops of douche out of your douchesack?". But I used it. And it was....interesting. You sit on it facing the wall which is weird to begin with. Like imagine sitting on a toilet backwards and taking a shit - you'd feel pretty lame. So you turn on the water and then turn on another faucet that sprays the water up into your holes. At first I had it way too hot and I shot the water up my hoo hoo and it felt like my vagina was on fire. Once I got the temp at a desirable level, I turned on the faucet to almost-full-blast. Now if you turn this puppy all the way up, get ready to gargle with it because it's not playing around - it's pretty strong. So you sit there and let the water just go all up in your crevices and you kinda hafta rock back and forth so it's goes in your butt and your hoo hoo and on your other parts too. Then you just get up and dry off. I tell ya what, it looks super gay while you're doing it but that's like the cleanest my vaginal/rectal area has ever felt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;So feel free to use my bidet when you come to visit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;I'm loving city life. Well, except for the 45 minute drive to and from work - that's most certainly NOT fun. However, I've discovered the most breathtaking view of the city and here are the instructions on how to see it for yourself:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;1. Take 85 south around 3:30 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;2. Just as you cross under the sign for 17th Street - 1/4 mile, look up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;3. There it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;No really, there aren't any other cars on the road and all the city lights are right there to greet you and it's just the most remarkable skyline I've ever seen. Pretty neat and worth taking a gander at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;What's up with all the people on bikes around here? Bikes and scooters. I need to get one apparently - probably a bike because scooters are flamingly gay in my opinion. People on scooters look like they're riding motorized wheelchairs. I just don't understand the appeal. I found this picture of a scooter with a toilet attached.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SMfS6uaaIzI/AAAAAAAAAVI/-48d1Jx_nbQ/s1600-h/1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SMfS6uaaIzI/AAAAAAAAAVI/-48d1Jx_nbQ/s400/1.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244392197429273394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Find me one with a bidet and I'm game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;But seriously, everyone rides bikes down here so I think that'll be my next big purchase. I doubt I can commit to a bicycle helmet, though. They just look so dorky and I mean if I'm meant to die on a bicycle then far be it from me to stand in the way of destiny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;There's a really funny hobo that stands on the corner of Boulevard and Freedom Pkwy every afternoon. I just thought of that and felt the need to share. He stands out there with a sign saying "CANCER - PLEASE HELP". Sometimes he'll have Ding Dongs or canned drinks to sell - not sure where he gets those. I dunno if I'd have the courage to eat a Ding Dong that came from a hobo (there's a double entendre in there somewhere). One day he walked up to my car as I was taking a sip out of a cup and he did this funny "I'm drunk" gesture and then started breakdancing. It was very confusing but funny. I still didn't give him any money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;I'm sitting here waiting for our new dishwasher to be delivered. The people were supposed to be here between 8am and 10am. It's 10:07. That'd be cool if it were like the pizza thing - 30 minutes or less or it's free. Actually, I don't care if it's free because I didn't pay for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Okay, I'm shutting up now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-5394928807961209379?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/5394928807961209379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=5394928807961209379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5394928807961209379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/5394928807961209379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/09/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SMfS6uaaIzI/AAAAAAAAAVI/-48d1Jx_nbQ/s72-c/1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-4564296029367471161</id><published>2008-08-28T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T07:57:54.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did You Know...</title><content type='html'>I have a SECRET blog about dating??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, sure do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Email me for the link.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-4564296029367471161?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/4564296029367471161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=4564296029367471161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/4564296029367471161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/4564296029367471161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/did-you-know.html' title='Did You Know...'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-6014104384684121977</id><published>2008-08-27T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T12:49:30.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Shit, I've Got A Blog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah bunghole, remember you told people to take a looksy at your BLOG?!? And now you're not UPDATING IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Sorry dudes, been busy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So I'm officially 4 days out from my move to the ATL. Exciting stuff. I guess it's safe to go ahead and tell you about it now. For the longest I was under the impression that someone had a voodoo doll of me and would stab it everytime I had a deal go through on a house - like 3 of them fell through within 24 hours of me bragging on having found something. But alas, the deposit has been laid, the lease has been signed...and thus I present to you, my new abode!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(This is where I would put a picture of said abode, only I don't have one and frankly I'm not comfortable putting a photo of my house on the internet. But it's cool as shit, promise.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My new house is on Euclid Avenue in Little Five Points. If you stand in the front yard you can look up the street and see Moreland - yes, I'm in walking distance of EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN. Literally, Corner Tavern is at the top of my street - turn right and the Vortex is a stone's throw - turn left and there's Zesto. Pretty damned cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The house was built in 1914 and is a really awesome Victorian with tons of character. It has a picket fence around the front yard and a trampoline in the back (naked trampoline sleepovers, here we come!). I couldn't have asked for a cooler place to call home. The entire house has 14 foot ceilings...my bedroom has a fireplace...shitloads of natural light - just peachy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So the house is in order...now on to the moving process. Supposedly it's happening this Sunday and I've bitten the bullet and am paying for movers. I really should spend that money on more important stuff - like a GPS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I get lost every single time I go down to Atlanta, no shit. I have faux GPS on my phone but it's not keen to keep glancing down at where I'm supposed to be going as opposed to focusing on the actual road and stuff. I went to Fry's yesterday to peruse their GPS selection and ran into Salesman of the Year (that's sarcasm). This was our exchange (Me is played by Me and DBS is played by DoucheBag Salesman):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;DBS: Hey, can I help you find anything?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me: (looking at a sign that says "While Supplies Last...so and so GPS...$119) Yeah, um, do y'all have anymore of these for $119?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;DBS: (glances over shoulder in an obvious "I'm-not-looking-for-what-she-just-asked-me-to-look-for" sorta fashion) Nope, outta those. Yeah, just to let you know, you're not going to get a decent GPS for under $200. Anything under $200 is just going to tell you to turn left and right - they won't tell you any street names. Now we've got this Garmin over here for $249 that's pretty much what you're going to need to get where you need to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me: (standing with a blank "I-hate-your-fucking-salesman-guts-DBS") Oh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I think he figured he should walk away when steam began spewing from my ears and my fists clinched. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So DBS, lemme get this straight - I walk in asking about something that costs $119 and you proceed to bash half of your product display (because most GPS are around $150 but DBS says not to waste money on anything under $200) and then try to encourage me to purchase something that's $130 FUCKING DOLLARS MORE THAN WHAT I WANT TO PAY?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And anyway, I could care less if I'm supposed to turn at the intersection of Cum Lane and Titty Fuck Terrace - I just need to know when to turn and which way. GPS's know where you need to be and they tell you when to turn to get there. What do I care what the street names are? I mean I feel like a big enough asshole wanting to buy something to call out directions to me - it seems extravagant in my eyes. The last thing I need the GPS to do is wipe my ass, give me a happy ending and cook me eggs in the morning - just tell me where to turn!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Needless to say, Fry's did not move to the top of my "Awesome Electronics Stores" list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Supposedly, the laws of physics or gravity or whateverthefuck dictate that the more I drive around, the easier it'll be for me to remember directions and how to get places - but at what cost? Is my sanity worth it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Guess I'll find out...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ATLANTA OR BUS&lt;/span&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-6014104384684121977?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/6014104384684121977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=6014104384684121977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/6014104384684121977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/6014104384684121977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-shit-ive-got-blog.html' title='Oh Shit, I&apos;ve Got A Blog!'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-1385600612759471958</id><published>2008-08-17T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T18:28:38.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Investi-Gator</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SKjP9voG0qI/AAAAAAAAAVA/tyT91O2WBfs/s1600-h/P8170259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235663226481857186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SKjP9voG0qI/AAAAAAAAAVA/tyT91O2WBfs/s400/P8170259.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;So today was a pretty typical day at work...except when we found an alligator.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-1385600612759471958?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/1385600612759471958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=1385600612759471958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/1385600612759471958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/1385600612759471958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/investi-gator.html' title='Investi-Gator'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uqMgw5MVIjE/SKjP9voG0qI/AAAAAAAAAVA/tyT91O2WBfs/s72-c/P8170259.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-23191952798820675</id><published>2008-08-08T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:58:40.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House Hunters</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;While perusing homes the other day, my friend and I happened upon a house sporting a dryer in the kitchen...directly next to the stove. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;That's gotta be like a major fire hazard, right???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-23191952798820675?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/23191952798820675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=23191952798820675' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/23191952798820675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/23191952798820675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/house-hunters.html' title='House Hunters'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-9016990473095213885</id><published>2008-08-08T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:52:57.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's So Dreamy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330099;"&gt;From this point forward, I will only date men who meet the following requirements:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Height: between 5'11" and 6'4"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I have dated  a few short guys and as great as they may have been, I always had an issue with their height. I need you to be tall. I need you to be taller than me. I don't want you to be too tall though, because that may attract unwanted attention from people...and I don't want to date a freak of nature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must live within 10 miles of Atlanta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;If you live outside of a 10 mile radius of the city limits of Atlanta, I'm sorry but I cannot date you. Your desire to live outside of a major city, one that's full of fun and exciting things to do, turns me off. You are weird. You should want to live where I want to live and that's not out in the middle of nowhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must have tattoos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;You must have tattoos. I like to look at tattoos, especially colorful ones. The following tattoos do not count as &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; tattoos and are, in fact, a turn off: tribal arm band, tribal shape randomly placed on your body, any sports team logo/insignia, barbed wire, any asian symbol. If you have any of these, please have them removed or covered prior to our first date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must have a motorcycle, know how to ride a motorcycle or have interest in owning a motorcycle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I love motorcycles far too much to never ride one. If you've never been on a motorcycle, you're weird and you suck and I don't want to know you, much less date you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must make me laugh hysterically&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I like to laugh. Laughing is fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must like music other than mainstream radio bullshit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I don't care what category your musical taste falls under, as long as it's original and not played on Atlanta radio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must love art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;Art is cool. We should go to galleries and stuff. And we should buy cool, eclectic art.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must be indifferent on marriage/kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I may want to get married one day. I may want to have kids one day. I probably won't want either of those things and you need to be fine with that. If you've ever used the phrase "I was born to be a dad." or "I can't wait to meet my wife."...we will most definitely NOT work out. Please go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must be high on life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;You need to be full of life...and spontaneous...and just out-of-your-mind, bat shit crazy. I want to want to be around you. I want to feel exhillerated in your presence. If you are a wallflower, I will inevitably end up cheating on you and hating your guts. You need to be fun squared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must have used drugs in the past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;People who have never tried drugs are scary people. You don't need to currently be on drugs, but you have to have been a free enough spirit at some point in your life to have crossed over into the danger zone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must drink alcohol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I may want to tie one on at some point, and I'm going to need a partner in crime when/if I do. We'll worry about designated drivers at a later date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must not be a workout nut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;If you like to take care of your body, that's swell. I don't want the gym to take precedence over me or our fun times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must not be a homebody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;Get off your ass and let's go out. We can sleep when we're dead. There's too much to see and do in this great city to want to be at home on the couch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must have friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;This one sounds ridiculous, but you'd be surprised at how many men have no friends and are just lurking, waiting to take over some poor unsuspecting girl's life with their lameness. Get some fucking friends, dude. I want them to be cool and interesting friends. Don't worry, they'll love me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must not wear khaki pants unless mandated by your job or at a family based holiday gathering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;If you wear khaki pants on your own time, something is wrong with you and you need to reevaluate where your life is headed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must own cool hats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;I want you to sport some unique headwear. No sports team ball caps - those get you in the negative. You should have like a fucking fedora that you wear with board shorts...or a pageboy style cap. Any hat that could be paired with khaki pants is a no go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;- Must be open minded and have cool ideas about life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;Let's talk about philosophy or dying or nature or friggin' ghosts or pancakes or the color green - whatever. Our conversations should never revolve around reality television or celebrity gossip, making money, sports or any other trite bullshit that most normal people discuss. We're weirdos and we need to talk about weird stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;This is just the beginning. There are tons of other things I could go on about, but these are the basics that I'll be using to weed guys out with. There are always exceptions to the rule, of course, but I'd like to try and adhere to the above listed items.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330099;"&gt;Thank you for your cooperation and I look forward to getting it on with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-9016990473095213885?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/9016990473095213885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=9016990473095213885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/9016990473095213885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/9016990473095213885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/hes-so-dreamy.html' title='He&apos;s So Dreamy'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-2312757086591701350</id><published>2008-08-06T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:19:52.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dickhater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3366ff;"&gt;And begin fun times in and around &lt;strong&gt;Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt;...starting...NOW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Monday was an interesting day. I went to look at a potential living arrangement in &lt;strong&gt;Kirkwood&lt;/strong&gt;. Combine an old house with tons of character and a half-drunken weirdo chick who smokes inside and you get nowhere. This house was so unbelievably awesome...only it smelled like a bag of assholes and the chick showing me around was tanked. Bummer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;I met a buddy afterwards at &lt;strong&gt;Brick Store Pub&lt;/strong&gt; in downtown &lt;strong&gt;Decatur&lt;/strong&gt;. If you're into beer (and I don't mean &lt;strong&gt;PBR&lt;/strong&gt;) you should really give this place a go. It's a small place but has a really awesome vibe. They have a shit ton of beer on tap and in bottles. I mean seriously, they know their beer. So much so that they even have a Belgian Beer Bar on the second level. The food was suprisingly delicious. I had the pierogi's with fresh veggies - for only $7.95! Buddy had roasted red pepper hummus and she said it was scrumptious. The food is suprisingly cheap for the quality. Somewhere along the way my number was left on a business card for the bartender, along with the message "CALL FOR ORAL" added by some guys we'd made nice with. Don't ask and I won't tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Next we walked (yes walked - most stuff is within walking distance) to &lt;strong&gt;Twain's&lt;/strong&gt; which is sort of a bar/game room place that's kid friendly. Now I'm not a big fan of taking children to bars but I digress. They had some serious trivia going on, as well as a dart league and plenty of pool in effect. It was a cool place if games and booze are your thing. And my handsomely talented friend &lt;strong&gt;Joe McGuinness&lt;/strong&gt; plays the blues there every now and then, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;If you've never been to downtown &lt;strong&gt;Decatur&lt;/strong&gt;, I strongly urge you to go. It's chock full of shops and eateries, majority of which are not chain establishments which I find super awesome. It has a small town vibe while maintaining its big city allure. Definitely make it to &lt;strong&gt;JChristopher's&lt;/strong&gt; for brunch. I had the "Just Bubba" for breakfast there last weekend. It's mostly patronized/staffed by the gays but it makes for a fun experience. They're priced nicely, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Anyway, I'm about 3 weeks out from moving, so for now the search for housing continues. I'll keep ya posted so stay on the edge of your seat...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.decaturga.com/"&gt;http://www.decaturga.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brickstorepub.com/"&gt;http://www.brickstorepub.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twains.net/"&gt;http://www.twains.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jchristophers.com/"&gt;http://www.jchristophers.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/joemcguinness"&gt;www.myspace.com/joemcguinness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-2312757086591701350?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/2312757086591701350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=2312757086591701350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/2312757086591701350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/2312757086591701350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/dickhater.html' title='Dickhater'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496234278099735960.post-4796896170706709391</id><published>2008-08-03T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T13:32:58.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;So as you may already know, I was forced to remove my last blog because of a psycho internet stalker. It had a decent run, regular readers and more support than I would have imagined. I found blogging to be really therapeutic more than anything, but I also received compliments on my writing so I figured I'd start up a new one and see how well it went over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;There has been a change however - this will be a themed blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I know, I know. A themed blog severely restricts and limits topics of conversation but I felt a bit of a disconnect with my last blog. I mean there are only so many random stories and funny pictures/videos you can share before it starts to get bland. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Not to say my shit was ever bland - because we all know that's most certainly &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; the case. &lt;-----That's called &lt;strong&gt;MODESTY&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyway, you may or may not know that I will be moving to &lt;strong&gt;Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt; in a few weeks. I haven't secured a place yet, but I do have a couple of prospects on the horizon. I've had some cancellations and dropouts but things are looking positive at the moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This move isn't just a change of scenery. It's really much more of a lifestyle change. I was born and raised in &lt;strong&gt;Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt;, but have spent the majority of my adult life in the suburbs, aka &lt;strong&gt;HELL ON EARTH&lt;/strong&gt;. I'm sad to say I don't know my way around the city and really haven't experienced any of the cool shit it has to offer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Enter this blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I want this blog to serve not only as a sounding board for my rants and raves about daily life, but also as sort of an inspiration to those who don't get down to &lt;strong&gt;Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt; all that much but are curious about what all it has going on. I wanna buy some cool art and hear some great live music and see some cool shows. I wanna eat at mom-and-pop places and walk around. I wanna live life and be proud to say this is where I come from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Same rules apply as before: I will remain vague on some details and real names will never be used. Occasional pictures and videos will make the cut but I'd like to keep the meat and potatoes to writing. Comments and suggestions are encouraged and appreciated. Feel free to remain anonymous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;So sit back and enjoy....&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This &lt;/em&gt;Is My Atlanta&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3496234278099735960-4796896170706709391?l=thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/feeds/4796896170706709391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3496234278099735960&amp;postID=4796896170706709391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/4796896170706709391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3496234278099735960/posts/default/4796896170706709391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thisismyatlanta.blogspot.com/2008/08/welcome.html' title='Welcome'/><author><name>Know This:</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00990070656024871802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16902023948726838341'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>