<?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-7544190451237559696</id><updated>2012-01-16T10:35:45.800-05:00</updated><category term='you get on that horse you betta ride it'/><category term='Kids'/><category term='Venus'/><category term='Commuting'/><category term='Church'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='Social Commentary'/><category term='Mars'/><category term='What in the world?'/><category term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><category term='Sports'/><category term='Informational'/><category term='Stupid People'/><category term='Stuff I like'/><category term='Politics'/><title type='text'>Really Random Rants</title><subtitle type='html'>My thoughts on the world I live in...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>101</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1990319827361144596</id><published>2011-05-18T18:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T18:49:03.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nope. It's you.</title><content type='html'>Seriously. It is you. No one else, just you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the fundamental problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't like you because they have a problem, and the problem is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of it being only about you.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you never thinking about anyone but yourself.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you always blaming everyone else for your shortcomings.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you making everyone else look bad with your crazy behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you always trying to be the star of the show.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of your laziness and irresponsibility.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you treating them like a second thought.&lt;br /&gt;They are tired of you wanting them to treat you like a priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short they are tired of YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get over yourself and return to the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1990319827361144596?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1990319827361144596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1990319827361144596' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1990319827361144596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1990319827361144596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2011/05/nope-its-you.html' title='Nope. It&apos;s you.'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2994444369053822437</id><published>2011-05-10T16:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T17:17:12.524-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pots and Kettles</title><content type='html'>Lately I have been noticing an interesting trend where people would want to condemn someone publicly for the same behaviours and acts that they are committing privately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that double standards are the norm in this day and age, but it still surprises me that people can be such hypocrites. My mind is amazed at how quickly people are willing to throw each other under a bus in order to keep the spotlight off of themselves. Or how easily they will tell someone "you shouldn't do that" when they know they are sitting at home or in the streets doing the same thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think irks me the most about it all is the fact that they act as though no one realises what they are doing, or if people realise it that for some reason it is to be over looked and we should all just play along with the farce. Really? Really? I call bull on that whole notion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2994444369053822437?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2994444369053822437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2994444369053822437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2994444369053822437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2994444369053822437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/09/pots-and-kettles.html' title='Pots and Kettles'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4470384976979514335</id><published>2011-04-03T23:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T23:46:39.222-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='you get on that horse you betta ride it'/><title type='text'>Back on the Block</title><content type='html'>Welp, it has been a hot minute since I have been on here, but there is just too much foolery going on and I can no longer hold my peace and be still. I also do not have a piece of steel to take folks out with so... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right back into the fray we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my next door neighbour's kids: SHUT UP!!! Take a damn paxil and calm the hell down. Are y'all doing River Dance over there? Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Mr. Softee Ice Cream man: Really? Really? Was it even 55 today? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the females of the world (and especially Brooklyn): You ain't fooling nobody. If you were in an accident your own momma wouldn't be able to identify you cause of all the fakeness going on. There is nothing wrong with fixing yourself up nice, but the Barbie look is not the business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the church folk: You need Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4470384976979514335?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4470384976979514335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4470384976979514335' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4470384976979514335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4470384976979514335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2011/04/back-on-block.html' title='Back on the Block'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6795636452925319989</id><published>2010-06-07T00:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T00:41:18.608-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Familiarity Breeds Contempt</title><content type='html'>I think I am slow. Well actually, I don't. I just feel that way when faced with certain people and their particular problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me get this straight, mister man or sister gurl treats you like you are expendable and only remembers that you exist when they want something. They take you for granted, and make you a non priority in their life. You do everything for them, go out of your way even, and they don't even acknowledge it. You put 110% into the relationship (friendship or otherwise) and barely get .00674% back. The relationship causes you nothing but stress, heartache, and or annoyance, BUT YOU WILL NOT WALK AWAY!?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to say it, but you are a fool. Yeah, I said it. You are a fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you willingly let a person walk all over you and take you for granted, whether that person be friend, family, or loved one, then I call you all kinds of a fool. All you are doing is giving that person permission to use you. When they know they can do what they want and you will just roll over and take it then you better believe they are going to go about their business without giving you any thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting yourself be used is not the business, and when it happens and you realise it, the first thing you should do is run for the hills. I never understand when people bemoan how this and that person causes so much trouble for them, but they will not walk away from the person. I don't understand this phenomena of "oh he/she did me dirty, but we are still friends". Really? REALLY? R.E.A.L.L.Y!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone is in your life who is no good for you, LEAVE THEM ALONE! Walk away and keep it moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6795636452925319989?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6795636452925319989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6795636452925319989' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6795636452925319989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6795636452925319989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2010/06/familiarity-breeds-contempt.html' title='Familiarity Breeds Contempt'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4171500515855537991</id><published>2010-01-26T13:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T13:37:20.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is love?</title><content type='html'>Hello all, hope the new year is treating you well so far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a friend and I have been having a random running discussion on the subject of true love. Now my last comment on the subject was that they way I see it, "true" or "real" love wouldn't and shouldn't make you say or do foolishness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to be clear, I understand that when you are in love you may do silly things and goofy things like wearing matching outfits, falling asleep on the phone together, goofy stuff like that. But in my mind, goofy and foolish are two different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goofy makes sense, foolish does not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True love shouldn't make you hurt people. &lt;br /&gt;True love shouldn't make you doubt.&lt;br /&gt;True love shouldn't make you angry.&lt;br /&gt;True love shouldn't cause you to lose friendships.&lt;br /&gt;True love shouldn't make you cynical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my opinion true love, real love, should make you a better person, not turn you into someone you never wanted to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that begs the question, what is love?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4171500515855537991?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4171500515855537991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4171500515855537991' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4171500515855537991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4171500515855537991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-is-love.html' title='What is love?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4401184337524249986</id><published>2009-12-31T15:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:38:20.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Thursday  - In the midst of it all</title><content type='html'>As the year comes to an end I take the time to look back and thank God that in the midst of heartache, strife, pain, annoyance, and so much more, He has kept me and that along with many other blessings, is more than enough to give God thanks for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am thankful for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'M STILL HERE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. True family and REAL friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My nieces and nephews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My church home and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. A bright outlook for the coming year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. My Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who has not, will not, and cannot fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as this year comes to a close, what are you thankful for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UI4k3wsiLpc&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/UI4k3wsiLpc&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" 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/7544190451237559696-4401184337524249986?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4401184337524249986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4401184337524249986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4401184337524249986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4401184337524249986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/12/thankful-thursday-in-midst-of-it-all.html' title='Thankful Thursday  - In the midst of it all'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8344350823324069762</id><published>2009-11-08T20:10:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T23:21:10.024-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Oscar the Grouch has beef with Fox News...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.popeater.com/2009/11/06/sesame-street-dig-at-pox-news-backfires/"&gt;&amp;#39;Sesame Street&amp;#39; Dig at POX News Draws Backlash, Rebuke From PBS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eO-1j9T90-8&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&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/eO-1j9T90-8&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I really don't know what to say about this. I have been watching Sesame Street basically my entire life. Truth be told I still watch it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story annoys me for the simple fact that it grates on my nerves that everyone is so picky, sensitive, over analytical, and just plain cry babyish these days, and that the dude is griping about an episode &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;FROM TWO YEARS AGO!!!!&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean come on. What do I remember from Sesame Street... hmmm let me see... I remember my ABC's and 123's. I remember to be nice and to treat others the way I want to be treated. I remember that sharing is the right thing to do. That people are different but that doesn't mean that one person is any better than another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I wasn't paying enough attention because I missed the part where the show was a tool of the liberal media to skew the thoughts of my precocious little mind to believe that liberals are good and conservatives are bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me thinks someone needs to chill the (insert rude word here) out and be easy. It is not that deep people... really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheesh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8344350823324069762?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.popeater.com/2009/11/06/sesame-street-dig-at-pox-news-backfires/' title='Oscar the Grouch has beef with Fox News...'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8344350823324069762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8344350823324069762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8344350823324069762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8344350823324069762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/11/oscar-grouch-has-beef-with-fox-news.html' title='Oscar the Grouch has beef with Fox News...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4151616238294603933</id><published>2009-11-06T11:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T11:36:16.688-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>This is why it's hot</title><content type='html'>This is why Sesame Street is still one of my favourite shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wGMB7Rn8KGE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/wGMB7Rn8KGE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4151616238294603933?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4151616238294603933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4151616238294603933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4151616238294603933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4151616238294603933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-is-why-its-hot.html' title='This is why it&apos;s hot'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8732198045984795570</id><published>2009-10-28T00:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T00:25:21.458-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What in the world?'/><title type='text'>Just Wrong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SufGhfwycUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ncUg3WeWdNU/s1600-h/SSPX0025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SufGhfwycUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ncUg3WeWdNU/s320/SSPX0025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397500957190943042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was recently in Tarz-jay and saw the above item on the shelf, and had to take a picture of it as evidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically you are telling me that someone somewhere decided that chicken flavoured biscuits/crackers was a good idea, and then proceeded to market it. Really? Really really?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were in the pet food section this would have totally made sense, however I was not. I was in the people food section. This just does not make sense as people food. It just doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it just me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8732198045984795570?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8732198045984795570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8732198045984795570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8732198045984795570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8732198045984795570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-wrong.html' title='Just Wrong'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SufGhfwycUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ncUg3WeWdNU/s72-c/SSPX0025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2973067003536909768</id><published>2009-10-20T22:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T23:08:46.369-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Informational'/><title type='text'>That Girl</title><content type='html'>You know, the one who is cool with all the guys, even after/if they have a falling out, they remain cool....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well she ain't me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to avoid future confusions and possible contusions, here are just five simple rules for how to govern yourself if you are a dude and find yourself dealing with a female who is NOT that girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. if she tells you stay away from her, do it. it could mean the difference between life or death, yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. if she tells you not to speak to her ever again, stay silent. better to hold your tongue than lose it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. do not make eye contact. just like in the wild, she will see that as a challenge and kill you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. do not touch. like ever. unless you want to be called nubsie for the rest of your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. you no longer exist in her reality. deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a public service announcement from the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;PWDWTCAC&lt;/span&gt;*** Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and good night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;***People Who Don't Want To Catch A Case&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2973067003536909768?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2973067003536909768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2973067003536909768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2973067003536909768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2973067003536909768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/10/that-girl.html' title='That Girl'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7525464948896551074</id><published>2009-09-16T12:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T12:52:56.038-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I kid you not...</title><content type='html'>Happy Wednesday Everyone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few things to help you through the mid week blahs... these are actual commercials for actual products. I kid you not. These things actually exist. Apparently the FCC people may have dropped the ball on these gems. ENJOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First up... the Tiddy Bear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gw1g2yKxb0I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/gw1g2yKxb0I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we have the... Hawaii Chair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1798739&amp;fullscreen=1" width="480" height="360" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"/&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/&gt;&lt;param name="movie" quality="best" value="http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1798739&amp;fullscreen=1"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1798739&amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"  width="480" height="360"  allowScriptAccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding:5px 0; text-align:center; width:480px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least... the Shake Weight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4S3C4AC908w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/4S3C4AC908w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" 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/7544190451237559696-7525464948896551074?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7525464948896551074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7525464948896551074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7525464948896551074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7525464948896551074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-kid-you-not.html' title='I kid you not...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6357509788395842280</id><published>2009-09-15T12:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T12:57:40.512-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>Go Sat Down!</title><content type='html'>Some one really needs to tell Kanye West to go SAT his ignorant behind down and get over himself. Really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am a day behind on this but whatever, football was on so I didn't have time to watch the first broadcast of the MTV Video Music Awards, but true to form MTV re-airs things like fifty eleven times, so I dvr'd the re-air last night (because I was again watching football). During a commercial break I happened to flip over to MTV and had the pleasure of watching Mr. Kanye "Bush doesn't like black people" West once again be a total douche bag and ruin what should have been a happy moment for Taylor Swift. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Kanye, we get it, you like Bey. Most of us do. Even if you hate her, you cannot deny that she goes hard in her shows and works her butt off, but she is NOT the greatest entertainer that ever lived, and maybe not even of this generation. Furthermore I am sure that she does not need you to confirm her status. That is what she has Jigga for (I kid. Maybe.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I for one thought Bey was going to win that one, and like Taylor Swift (seriously did you see her face, she was surprised and confused) was pleasantly surprised when they called her name. She herself even stated that she didn't think someone who sang country would get the award. She showed humility and grace, then Mr. Douchye West had to come and show that once again for all his mic skills his social graces are sorely lacking. (I wondered at that point if he was contractually obligated to be an ass at award shows) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hip hop does not own MTV, neither does Bey, and apparently the people that voted picked the video that they liked. Now don't get me wrong, I like the video for Single Ladies, the dance routine is on point, and one of these days I will learn the whole thing, but the video for You Belong to Me is actually one of my faves right now because it tells such a cute story. It is like a mini movie and I am sure a lot of people can relate to it. Bey gets cool points in my book for foregoing her acceptance speech in order to let Taylor finish hers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanye performed with Jay-Z, and Rihanna on the premier of the new Leno show last night and before the performance he sat down with Leno, and I give Leno points for asking him what he thought his mother would have had to say about his actions. I think from now on Kanye should ask himself that when he feels the douchebagery urges overtaking him. "What would momma think/say?" Maybe that could save him from so often putting his foot in his mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6357509788395842280?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6357509788395842280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6357509788395842280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6357509788395842280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6357509788395842280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/09/go-sat-down.html' title='Go Sat Down!'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2739006441336442320</id><published>2009-09-11T11:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T11:14:41.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memory Of</title><content type='html'>Those who lost their lives eight years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Remember by Rosanne Yu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time of year I think back to Sept, 2001.&lt;br /&gt;I remember, Monday, Sept 10, 2001 so clearly. I remember looking out from my office on the 94th Floor in 2 World Trade Center. I remember that the view was spectular. Little did I know that it would be the last time I would ever see such a view. I remember working late and taking the car service home. I remember being annoyed at Josh since he rushed off and left me to finish up. Little did I realize that would be the last time I would ever see or speak to him ever.&lt;br /&gt;I remember my alarm clock not going off on the morning of Sept 11, 2001. I remember being annoyed that I just missed the train. I remember being pissed off that the next train was delayed since I had a 10 million trade for the MET account and I didn't have time to be late for work. Little did I realize this all factored in why I am still alive today.&lt;br /&gt;I remember rushing off the train and rushing to my office in 2 WTC.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the chaos when I entered into the lobby of 2 WTC.&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking that they were filming a scene for Spiderman and wouldn't it be cool if I was an extra in a movie. Then I thought to myself why are they filming at 8:46am when everyone is heading to work. Reality then crashed in. I realized that something was seriously wrong and this was not a scene in a movie. People were trampling on each other. A man ran past me screaming 'bomb'.&lt;br /&gt;Security was not letting anyone take the elevators. I recognized one of my coworkers in the crowd. He didn't stop - he yelled "Run Rosanne" and continue to run.&lt;br /&gt;Another coworker grabbed me and said there was some accident and we needed to leave. As I entered the concourse, I looked up. I remember seeing the billowing smoke and the gaping hole where the plane crashed into 1 WTC. I was in shock and I realized that I was an eyewitness to a historic moment.&lt;br /&gt;On that day, I did everything I could but I realized that I'm not in control. Even in the midst of chaos and danger, God guided me and brought me to safety.&lt;br /&gt;As I remember the events, I realized that I am so grateful to be alive. Life is a gift. I'm grateful for my friends and family. I am so blessed. For anyone who is feeling hopeless, I want to say there is hope.&lt;br /&gt;For anyone who is feeling restless, I want to say there is peace.&lt;br /&gt;God is good! Life is good! I love you all! Remember his goodness always!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2739006441336442320?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2739006441336442320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2739006441336442320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2739006441336442320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2739006441336442320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-memory-of.html' title='In Memory Of'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6102332047246539693</id><published>2009-08-06T07:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:38:42.547-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Private Parts</title><content type='html'>Now that it has finally really gotten hot, it seems like there are more people walking the streets naked. So in an effort to save my retinas and prevent someone from getting beat down on the day that I finally &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuAVgWJ28Hw"&gt;snap&lt;/a&gt;, here are the three point five (yes I spelled it out, so what) things to remember about dressing oneself properly in hot weather. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wear Clothes.&lt;br /&gt;It really is very simple. Wear actual clothes. You know things like shirts, pants, skirts. They are readily accessible everywhere and depending on where you shop are not really that expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Underwear is NOT optional.&lt;br /&gt;Unless you are an infant with a healing diaper rash, there is no reason to be out and about without undergarments on. Ladies, no one (at least no one that is not on the pervy side) wants to see your milkshakes jiggling like they have the palsey. Dudes, seriously, crack is whack and nasty. No one wants to see that. NO.ONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2a. UNDERwear. &lt;br /&gt;It is called UNDERware for a reason. It goes under your clothes and should NOT be seen. Also, stop wearing UNDERware as OUTERware. Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Know (and accept) your size. &lt;br /&gt;Since when did it become universally accepted to wear clothes that are either three sizes too small or two sizes too big? If you are a grown behind (literally and figuratively) woman, stop shopping in the Junior's section. Just stop it. Walking around looking like you have an inner tube under your shirt is not the business at all. Butt cheeks in the street, disrespectful. Having your back look like rows of sausages cause that tie back shirt is too small, ridiculous. If you are a schemedium at best stop shopping in the husky section (this applies more to guys than dolls). You can't go hard while holding your pants (or really long shorts?? wtf is that about? really) up. It is not gangster to look like you are wearing a night shirt circa Little House on the Prairie, unless you want people to start calling you Pa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting really tired of half nekkid people walking the streets man. Really tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6102332047246539693?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6102332047246539693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6102332047246539693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6102332047246539693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6102332047246539693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/08/public-private-parts.html' title='Public Private Parts'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1011083617045112801</id><published>2009-08-04T12:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T13:03:11.425-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Obligitory Foolishness</title><content type='html'>I'm watching the best of the Joy of Painting... that makes me mellow and thoughtful, but that is neither here nor there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the rational behind trying to convince someone to do something that they clearly do not want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never understood people who talk (or try to) someone into doing something that they CLEARLY are against by using the "you owe me" rational. How does this even make sense? If your actions are supposedly out of kindness and allegedly altruistic, then how does obligation even enter the picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or in another scenario those people who want you to do something for them or want you to acknowledge them when they don't deserve it. How do you for all intents and purposes ignore a person all the time, but want them to claim and acknowledge you in front of others. Seriously, how does one do that? Even Jesus said that if you deny me then I will deny you to my father, and He is way more forgiving than most people I know (myself included). Does genetic relationship oblige a default relationship? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This phenomenon clearly confuses me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1011083617045112801?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1011083617045112801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1011083617045112801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1011083617045112801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1011083617045112801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/08/obligitory-foolishness.html' title='Obligitory Foolishness'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5902485952685732334</id><published>2009-07-29T13:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T13:44:21.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Glass houses and other random stuff that I want to talk about...</title><content type='html'>People that live in glass houses should not throw stones. You know because why? Because I can stay in my glass house and pelt rocks at you standing on the street outside said house. I may hit you a few times, but a lot of those rocks would miss. Now if you choose to retaliate and pelt rocks at my glass house, then you don't even have to hit me. You just need to hit the section closest to where I am with a big enough rock to cause it to shatter into a million pieces one of which could possibly catch me in the jugular or femoral artery and BAM. I dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you live in a glass house, don't pelt rocks. It could get you dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two-faced people irk me. They really do. What annoys me most about them is that they will talk all kinds of sullbhit about you and try to make you seem like the bad person, when in fact THEY are doing (for real) the very thing they are accusing you (incorrectly and unjustly) of doing. Things done in the dark always have a way of coming out into the light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being comfortable in your own skin is a wonderful thing, but I don't necessarily need to be comfortable in your skin as well. Now that summer has finally decided to show up I am forced once again to deal with women and men alike who apparently do NOT know how to dress themselves. I swear foh the Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the Cherubims, Seraphims, and all the saints that if I have to see some females parts in the streets or be in a position to know if her hair colour is natural or not, I will NOT BE HAPPY!. I mean come on now. cover that up! And dudes. You know what. Crack is whack. Whitney may have been on it when she said that, but sometimes crackheads say the darndest things. I don't want to see your crack. I don't want to know that you have a daffy duck drawers fetish. I.Just.Don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No means No. If you ask me something and I tell you No, don't bother asking again cause the answer will still be No. There are certain things that are non negotiable in my world. Don't bother trying to change my mind. Don't try having long discussions trying to get me to see it your way. Won't happen. Does that make me stubborn? Yep. Do I care? Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live yah life.. ayyyya ayyyya ayyyya.... &lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Just live YOUR life. Not the life that someone else (other than God) wants for you, but the life that you want for yourself. Do you and be happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5902485952685732334?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5902485952685732334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5902485952685732334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5902485952685732334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5902485952685732334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/07/glass-houses-and-other-random-stuff.html' title='Glass houses and other random stuff that I want to talk about...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7507570865140699210</id><published>2009-06-26T03:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T03:27:31.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In every generation...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SkR4EWZhIbI/AAAAAAAAAFc/U7a1DooaSmU/s1600-h/thriller-michael-jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SkR4EWZhIbI/AAAAAAAAAFc/U7a1DooaSmU/s320/thriller-michael-jackson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351534273350410674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is that person who forever changes the music scene. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They break barriers, shatter records, and raise the game to a whole new level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there are times when a single person comes along who moves from generation to generation evolving in such a way that it almost seems like the times change to fit them and not the other way around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my life time I was lucky enough to have witnessed such a phenomenon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtyJbIOZjS8"&gt;thrilled&lt;/a&gt; us with his electrifying dance moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He marched to the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uqxo1SKB0z8"&gt;beat&lt;/a&gt; of a different drummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was as &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG5NhkxQJQc"&gt;bad&lt;/a&gt; as he wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he was one &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WjOn5TNjBM"&gt;smooth&lt;/a&gt; operator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was Michael Jackson. The King of Pop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7507570865140699210?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7507570865140699210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7507570865140699210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7507570865140699210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7507570865140699210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-every-generation.html' title='In every generation...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SkR4EWZhIbI/AAAAAAAAAFc/U7a1DooaSmU/s72-c/thriller-michael-jackson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4539498405155741908</id><published>2009-06-19T02:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:19:48.689-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm Worth It</title><content type='html'>A friend sent the following to me. I think it is worth passing along. Ladies, remember that you are worth it. Gentlemen, remember that a real lady is not cheap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a brief conversation, a man asked a woman he was pursuing the question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What kind of man are you looking for?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat quietly for a moment before looking him in the eye and asking,&lt;br /&gt;'Do you really want to know?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reluctantly, he said, 'Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She began to expound, 'As a woman in this day and age, I am in a&lt;br /&gt;position to ask a man what can you do for me that I can't do for&lt;br /&gt;myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pay my own bills. I take care of my household without the help of any man...&lt;br /&gt;or woman for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in the position to ask, 'What can you bring to the table?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man looked at her.  Clearly he thought that she was referring to money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She quickly corrected his thought and stated, 'I am not referring to&lt;br /&gt;money.  I need something more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a man who is striving for excellence in every aspect of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and asked her to explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, 'I need someone who is striving for excellence mentally&lt;br /&gt;because I need conversation &amp; mental stimulation.  I don't need a&lt;br /&gt;simple-minded man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone who is striving for excellence spiritually because I&lt;br /&gt;don't need to be unequally yoked...believers mixed with unbelievers is&lt;br /&gt;a recipe for disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a man who is striving for excellence financially because I&lt;br /&gt;don't need a financial burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone who is sensitive enough to understand what I go through&lt;br /&gt;as a woman, but strong enough to keep me grounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone who has integrity in dealing with relationships. Lies&lt;br /&gt;and game-playing are not my idea of a strong man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a man who is family-oriented.  One who can be the leader,&lt;br /&gt;priest and provider to the lives entrusted to him by God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone whom I can respect.  In order to be submissive, I must&lt;br /&gt;respect him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot be submissive to a man who isn't taking care of his business.&lt;br /&gt;I have no problem being submissive...he just has to be worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way, I am not looking for him...He will find me.  He will&lt;br /&gt;recognize himself in me.  Hey may not be able to explain the&lt;br /&gt;connection, but he will always be drawn to me.  God made woman to be a&lt;br /&gt;help-mate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she finished her spill, she looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat there with a puzzled look on his face. He said, 'You are asking a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "I'm worth a lot".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4539498405155741908?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4539498405155741908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4539498405155741908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4539498405155741908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4539498405155741908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/06/because-im-worth-it.html' title='Because I&apos;m Worth It'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2978440210580828325</id><published>2009-06-10T00:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T00:51:59.593-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Stuff This Chick Hates 1</title><content type='html'>1. Stupid and/or senseless kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am in the nailery (is that a legitimate word?) on Monday getting a mani and pedi. As I am sitting there soaking my nails (I had wrapped my own nails for a bit and was taking the wrap off), these two girls are at the table with me doing the same. Turns out they came to the shop and each got a full set done, but when it came time to pay, neither one had money. They called their uncle to ask him to come pay and he told them no because he hadn't given them permission in the first place. So the shop owner got rightfully upset and made them sit and soak them off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, this really happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could do was shake my head. I mean come on now. What did these girls (they had to be between the ages of like 10 and 13 at the most) think was going to happen? Did they think the owner would have just let them walk out without paying after two people just basically wasted an hour each doing their nails while PAYING customers where there waiting for service. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidents like that are why some days I really think about just not having children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Stupid and/or senseless adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am coming home from work on Tuesday and am on the bus when this couple (or at least they knew each other some kind of way) and proceeds to stand abreast of each other right at the front of the bus. Now any one who has ever taken the bus in NYC or any city for that matter will immediately realise why this would be a problem. It made no sense to me because the bus was not even full. There were seats right there in the front. They could have sat down, but no they had to stand right in the front and then want to side eye people and look put upon when other passengers trying to get on the bus asked them to move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are people stupid? Really. Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2978440210580828325?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2978440210580828325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2978440210580828325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2978440210580828325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2978440210580828325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/06/stuff-this-chick-hates-1.html' title='Stuff This Chick Hates 1'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6571921654134418144</id><published>2009-06-02T21:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:20:06.922-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A bag of hot nickels</title><content type='html'>And five minutes in a sealed room... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what I want to have at my disposal should I ever get the chance to meet up with the waste of brain matter that &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090531/ap_on_re_us/us_tiller_shooting"&gt;shot and killed&lt;/a&gt; controversial doctor George Tiller in church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to be clear I absolutely do not agree with the practices carried out by Dr. Tiller, however I get seriously annoyed when these alleged "Christians" who are anti abortion go about committing these kinds of acts in the name of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to ask these types of people is what kind of Bible do they read, or better yet do they even read the Bible. Last time I checked, though interpreted into many languages and versions, Exodus 20:13 still says &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus%2020%20;&amp;version=9;"&gt;"thou shalt not kill"&lt;/a&gt; (or more applicable to this case, the NIV Bible reads &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus%2020%20;&amp;version=31;"&gt;"you shall not murder"&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no footnotes to the 10 Commandments. There is no addendum that states "thou shalt not kill except in the following cases..." The Bible clearly states that murder is wrong so I am at a lost as to how someone who is supposed to be a "Christian" can justify so blatantly going against the Bible which is supposed to be the guideline for how they live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harsh though it may sound, I hope the person who committed the crime is prepared to surrender his own life. If he was willing to take the life of someone else in the name of God(in the house of God no less... shaking my head at that), then he should suffer the consequences as laid out by that same God. You purposefully and knowingly take a life, &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus%2021;&amp;version=31;"&gt;you lose your own&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6571921654134418144?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6571921654134418144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6571921654134418144' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6571921654134418144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6571921654134418144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/06/bag-of-hot-nickels.html' title='A bag of hot nickels'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-9108004313407629823</id><published>2009-06-02T20:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T21:47:52.072-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you like some ice cream with that?</title><content type='html'>So Shanna Moakler said that Ms. California didn't really represent the state of California because of the &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/did-you-hear-one-about-blonde.html"&gt;response&lt;/a&gt; she gave to a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the passage of Prop 8 in the November election in California, and with the courts &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104599658"&gt;upholding&lt;/a&gt; that decision in May, I just have one question for Shanna...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you like some ice cream with that humble pie? What's that? Sorry I can't understand you... must be hard to talk around that foot in your mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-9108004313407629823?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/9108004313407629823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=9108004313407629823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/9108004313407629823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/9108004313407629823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/06/would-you-like-some-ice-cream-with-that.html' title='Would you like some ice cream with that?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3247561690273519023</id><published>2009-05-12T14:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T16:31:24.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let the Trekkers (or Trekkies) say AMEN!</title><content type='html'>So I went to see the new Star Trek movie. Having been indoctrinated in the awesomeness that is Star Trek (yes I have been to conventions) I had mixed feelings. On the one hand I was anticipating seeing the "originals" brought back to life on the big screen. However I was somewhat apprehensive about how the film would be treated, in short I worried they would totally f@(&amp; it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My worries were in vain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The casting director(s) deserve(s) a standing ovation and all the accolades due to them for putting together a stellar (pun intended) cast of fresh faces who embodied the true essence of who the characters were (and in the case of Karl Urban's dead on portrayal of "Bones" you could close your eyes and you would really believe Deforest Kelly was on screen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The writers did an excellent job of creating an in depth plot, and were smart enough to put in those little extra touches that die hard, long time Trek fans would notice and appreciate. A wonderful score and very nice visual effects rounded everything out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short I loved the movie, so much so that I watched it two times in row. The critics got it very right when they gave the high marks that they did. Let us join with Ann Hornaday, the authour of &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/06/AR2009050603913.html"&gt;my favourite review&lt;/a&gt; of the movie (actually of any movie for that matter...) and say a word of prayer in thanksgiving for the studio not messing it up. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3247561690273519023?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3247561690273519023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3247561690273519023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3247561690273519023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3247561690273519023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-trekkers-or-trekkies-say-amen.html' title='Let the Trekkers (or Trekkies) say AMEN!'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3010905515662917910</id><published>2009-05-04T01:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T01:25:22.765-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When television was Golden</title><content type='html'>So it is 1 am and I am still wide awake, so I flipped to the Hallmark Channel where they are showing a Golden Girls marathon and I am reminded of a time when television was worth watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you looked forward to what was on television not because it took your mind off of how crappy your own life was, or because it was a way to escape reality, but because the shows were genuinely good and you had a vested interest in the lives of the characters and wanted to see how things were going to work out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am watching the episode series where Dorothy is diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and I am reminded why it is one of my favourite story lines. Dorothy's dry wit, Blanche's hoetasticness, Rose's innocent stupidity, and Sophia's no holds barred spirit, what's not to love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Television today is a pointless exercise in mind numbing stupidity. With the exception of a few shows like CSI, and CSI New York, network television is not worth watching. Truth be told, other than the two previously mentioned shows, I don't think I watch mainstream television. I have no idea what the (insert any given night of the week) line up for NBC is, but I can tell you the programming schedule for the PBS Kids network. I think if I didn't have cable, I would only be watching PBS and it's affiliated networks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, it is what it is. Back to the Golden Girls. Rest in peace Estelle and Bea, you ladies were truly a class act.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3010905515662917910?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3010905515662917910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3010905515662917910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3010905515662917910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3010905515662917910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-television-was-golden.html' title='When television was Golden'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-506930605099869105</id><published>2009-04-30T12:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T15:07:56.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You gang bangin' on bacon!?!?</title><content type='html'>So of course now everyone is up in arms against the pigs of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Egypt has ordered the &lt;a href="http://worldblog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2009/04/30/1915246.aspx"&gt;slaughter&lt;/a&gt; of herds of pigs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sales of pork products are &lt;a href="http://money.aol.com/article/flu-may-hurt-pork-sales-farmers-fear/451211"&gt;hurting&lt;/a&gt; because people mistakenly believe that you can contract the flu from eating pork products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little oink oink...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-506930605099869105?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/506930605099869105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=506930605099869105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/506930605099869105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/506930605099869105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-gang-bangin-on-bacon.html' title='You gang bangin&apos; on bacon!?!?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1875948306364800169</id><published>2009-04-22T23:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T15:14:15.642-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Did you hear the one about the blonde...</title><content type='html'>who pissed a whole lot of people off because when asked a direct question she gave a direct answer, however it was apparently not the answer that they wanted to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now most people have already heard about the debacle with the response given by Miss California in response to the question about whether she believed in gay marriage. Her response was that she believed a marriage should be between a man and a woman. Fair enough. She was asked what SHE believed and she stated what SHE believed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OY-1cybT6p8&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/OY-1cybT6p8&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally have no problems with her response. The way I see it, why bother asking someone a question if you are already set in your mind that there is only one way that is acceptable to YOU of answering the question. That is setting the person up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My problem comes from first the response of the audience, secondly from the way that Perez Hilton has subsequently responded to her answer, and thirdly the response of people who were once behind her and supported her but now, because she simply stated HER belief on a subject, have left her swinging in the wind. Talk about fair weather friends indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading the articles and seeing how the Miss California directors acted towards and treated her was very eye opening. Take for example the reactions of the California State Pageant Director Shanna Moakler as quoted in &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,517277,00.html"&gt;this FOX News article&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"While all of the state pageant directors were quick to greet their beauty queens after the live telecast, Moakler and Lewis did not go backstage, nor did they call Prejean to congratulate her on being first runner-up for Miss USA, after Prejean told a national TV audience that she was personally opposed to gay marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, Moakler started Twittering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is why we have judges at Miss USA, so we find the girl to rep us ALL," Moakler Twittered after the pageant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don’t know how you can call a gay man or woman your friend and not want them 2 have the same joys as yourself. In my family we believe in equal rights for all, I am sad and hurt, I agree with Perez 100 [percent]. It's one thing to have an opinion I am very opinionated n have dealt with backlash from it, it's another to alienate people who cared about u."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moakler, who sources say was very close friends with Prejean (who was first runner-up in the Miss California USA pageant in 2008 before winning in 2009), also issued an apology to her state pageant sponsors on Monday, saying that "Prejean’s opinions do not stand for those of the Miss California family."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I somehow think that if Moakler were to take a poll of the "Miss California family" she might be surprised to find out that wonder of all wonders, not every person believes the exact same thing. Further more, it is possible for someone to represent a body of people without being of the exact same mind as those people on everything. I wonder what Moakler's comments and responses would have been if Prejean had answered the question "favourably" and had to feel backlash from groups and people who believe that "marriage" is the union between a man and a woman? Or do their opinions, and beliefs not count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hypocrites... all of them...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1875948306364800169?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1875948306364800169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1875948306364800169' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1875948306364800169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1875948306364800169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/did-you-hear-one-about-blonde.html' title='Did you hear the one about the blonde...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-763831044990545787</id><published>2009-04-22T10:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T10:57:13.618-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>Happy Hump Day</title><content type='html'>Courtesy of one of my cousins. ENJOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a hospital's Intensive Care Unit, patients always died in the&lt;br /&gt;same bed, on Sunday morning, at about 11:00 am , regardless of their&lt;br /&gt;medical condition This puzzled the doctors and some even thought it had&lt;br /&gt;something to do with the super natural. No one could solve the mystery&lt;br /&gt;as to why the deaths occurred around 11:00 am Sunday, so a worldwide&lt;br /&gt;team of experts was assembled to investigate the cause of the incidents.&lt;br /&gt;The next Sunday morning, a few minutes before 11:00 am all of the&lt;br /&gt;doctors and nurses nervously waited outside the ward to see for&lt;br /&gt;themselves what the terrible phenomenon was all about. Some were holding&lt;br /&gt;wooden crosses, prayer books, and other holy objects to ward off the&lt;br /&gt;evil spirits. Just when the clock struck 11:00 , Pookie Johnson, the&lt;br /&gt;part-time Sunday sweeper , entered the ward and unplugged the life&lt;br /&gt;support system so he could use the vacuum cleaner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still Having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez&lt;br /&gt;Oil spill in Alaska was $80,000. At a special ceremony, two of the most&lt;br /&gt;expensively saved animals were being released back into the wild amid&lt;br /&gt;cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a&lt;br /&gt;killer whale ate them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still think you are having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking&lt;br /&gt;frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire running&lt;br /&gt;from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to jolt him away&lt;br /&gt;from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood,&lt;br /&gt;breaking his arm in two places. Up to that moment, he had been happily&lt;br /&gt;listening to his Walkman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are Ya OK Now? - No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two animal rights defenders were protesting the cruelty of&lt;br /&gt;sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn , Germany . Suddenly, all two&lt;br /&gt;thousand pigs broke loose and escaped through a broken fence, stampeding&lt;br /&gt;madly. The two helpless protesters were trampled to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?!? STILL having a Bad Day????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iraqi terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn't pay enough postage on a&lt;br /&gt;letter bomb. It came back with 'Return to Sender' stamped on it.&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits. God is&lt;br /&gt;Good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There now, Feeling Better!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-763831044990545787?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/763831044990545787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=763831044990545787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/763831044990545787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/763831044990545787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/happy-hump-day.html' title='Happy Hump Day'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6057116198923588283</id><published>2009-04-20T00:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T00:27:20.049-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>He's with me now</title><content type='html'>"She maybe a hoe but she is my hoe and I can change her." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It occurred to me today that the whole "I can change them" mentality is really one sided. A woman will take up with a no account man on the firm belief that she can change him, however you do not really see men doing the same thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many women in committed relationships, or dating men who are known to be manwhores. There can be all sorts of evidence, surveillance tapes, signed affidavits, and eyewitness accounts, yet the woman does not want to hear any of that because, "he's with me now." Think about it, when was the last time that you saw, heard of, or read about a guy in relationship with a female and upon finding out she was loser than the elastic in your favourite pair of undies that you only wear in the house on weekends when there is no chance of you having to interact with civilisation, his response was "she's with me now, I can change her?" Not never. Why? Because guys do not settle down with fixer uppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a total pessimist, and do have delusions of romantic grandeur which lead me to believe that for the right man or woman, a person will want to better themselves, but that is not what I mean in this instance. I am talking about when women discount obvious character, moral, and life flaws simply because they believe that since the guy is with them now he will change his ways and stick faithfully to her. Somehow I feel that this type of logic is fatally flawed and boarding on manic or delusional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;begin random thought blast: Eric Bennet (however you spell that) stepped out on Halle Berry... Halle freaking Berry... the chick that was voted the most beautiful person at age forty after popping out a small being... now unless she is like a major shrew at home(which I somehow do not believe)it does make one ask the question, if a guy would step out on the supernova hotness that is Halle Berry, why do the thirty watt soft light women of the world think it cannot happen to them?end random thought blast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6057116198923588283?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6057116198923588283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6057116198923588283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6057116198923588283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6057116198923588283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/hes-with-me-now.html' title='He&apos;s with me now'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3653351253776059260</id><published>2009-04-09T16:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T16:51:54.851-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>Do Better</title><content type='html'>Today I received an interesting email. It was a forward of a PDF file.... of the new book by Steve Harvey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really... REALLY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO BETTER!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me this is an EPIC FAIL!!! I mean really!? Really? Is the library not an&lt;br /&gt;option anymore? How about going in with some friends and taking turns reading or doing a group reading? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a blog I visit there was a post about the difference between &lt;a href="http://www.verysmartbrothas.com/tale-of-the-tape-hood-vs-ghetto/"&gt;"HOOD" and&lt;br /&gt;"GHETTO"&lt;/a&gt;, this situation reminds me of that... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chipping in with friends to get the book and reading as a group = HOOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting the book online as a pdf file and passing it about free = GHETTO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do better people... DO BETTER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3653351253776059260?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3653351253776059260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3653351253776059260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3653351253776059260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3653351253776059260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-better.html' title='Do Better'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6460805793122327141</id><published>2009-04-01T10:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T10:45:24.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fools Come Out in April</title><content type='html'>Today is April Fools Day... it is also the start of Autism Awareness Month which is apropos because apparently people have a lot of foolish notions that are spouted about what causes autism, what can cure it, and how those who are autistic are damaged goods not worthy of inhabiting this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in honour of the general stupidity of the human race, here is some &lt;a href="http://unclesamscabin.blogspot.com/2009/04/autism-awareness-my.html#links"&gt;fun reading&lt;/a&gt; to kick the month of right with. ENJOY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6460805793122327141?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6460805793122327141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6460805793122327141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6460805793122327141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6460805793122327141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/04/fools-come-out-in-april.html' title='The Fools Come Out in April'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2844285795152601156</id><published>2009-03-29T23:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T17:52:44.777-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>What's not to understand?</title><content type='html'>So what had happened was... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a falling out with a person with the XY chromosome makeup (calling them a man would be doing a disservice to the word) a while back and after all was said and done, my name called out repeatedly, "lies told on me and to me" and months on end of having to deal with the general ignorance and maliciousness of some people, I told said person to never speak to or have any contact with me because I wanted nothing to do with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I thought I was VERY specific in what I said. I made it abundantly clear by word and by deed that this person no longer existed in my reality. I deleted phone numbers, got a private number, go the other way if I see them coming towards me, or leave the room if I have to. I mean how much clearer can I possibly be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell me good people, WHY DO THEY STILL TRY TO SPEAK TO ME!?!?!?! Why do they still try to get me to acknowledge them if our paths happen to cross???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To quote Katt, "Nigga is you CRAZY?!?!?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pride can be a double edged sword sometimes. On the one hand it is a good thing to take pride in yourself and your accomplishments and let that be a guide for how you live your life and for wanting to be a better person. On the other hand when it is misplaced it can get you killed, punched in the throat, or hit in the face with a rock (thanks sis, I may have to use this if it comes to it). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to think that this someone is one of those people who has a misplaced sense of pride due to the fact that they have been able to get away with a lot of foolishness in their life and they are not used to anyone calling them on their bull. Is it that their ego cannot accept the fact that there is someone who will not let them off the hook? Are they not able to process the fact that they could not talk their way out of or pass the blame onto another and are being held accountable for their actions? Maybe (and this is the one that I think is probably the case) they cannot believe that they are not God's gift to the opposite sex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shyte right there nigga!!!! (I do love Katt.. I really do)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day I think they are hung up on the fact that there is someone who they could not get over on and that presents a challenge to them. So they figure that eventually I will cave and talk to them. As B said, "you must not know 'bout me, you must not know 'bout me..." I really have nothing to say to nor do I want anything to do with them, and am actually somewhat annoyed that I have to work so hard to get my point across. I mean CTFON! Get over yourself and deal... Sheesh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2844285795152601156?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2844285795152601156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2844285795152601156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2844285795152601156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2844285795152601156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-not-to-understand.html' title='What&apos;s not to understand?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4704010865155135473</id><published>2009-03-13T10:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T11:31:28.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The "I'm not Him" Conundrum</title><content type='html'>Have you ever met someone or found yourself being the someone who is trying so hard not to be identified with their predecessor that they or you end up doing things that are actually worse than or just as bad as them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was not the biggest fan of former president Bush, I agreed with some of his policies. As the term of our new president unfolds I cannot help but wonder at or be concerned that there may be too much of a push to be the polar opposite of the last administration. I am concerned that in the effort to follow through on the promises of change that some of the things that have worked well will be sacrificed simply because of their ties to the past. I don't think it is ever wise to cut off your nose to spite your face. If something has been working then it should stay in place. As the saying goes, "if it ain't broke don't fix it". It is my sincerest hope that this new administration will focus more on doing what is right for the country as a whole, than on being the polar opposite of the last administration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4704010865155135473?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4704010865155135473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4704010865155135473' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4704010865155135473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4704010865155135473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-not-him-conundrum.html' title='The &quot;I&apos;m not Him&quot; Conundrum'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2798541032796012141</id><published>2009-02-27T15:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T15:17:43.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Get'em Granny</title><content type='html'>Happy Friday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mess with Granma.. she will get in your ass... and beat you down... literally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="border:0px; padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font style="font-size:13px; font-family:Verdana; font-weight:bold; font-color:#293546"&gt;Judge's wife serves up justice&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="456" height="319" align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0" id="movie1235762832808"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/getem-granny.html' title='Get&apos;em Granny'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7382866516791528925</id><published>2009-02-23T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T22:02:31.841-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>Forgiving is easy...</title><content type='html'>it is the forgetting that can prove to be a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about when you are trying to forget about the situation and put things behind you but circumstances, or even people won't let you? What about when people want to flaunt or throw things back in your face when you are trying to go about your business and move one with your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when it seems like at every turn someone is trying to pull you back in the madness. They want to bring you back down because they see you are moving up and away from the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would this be a situation where shanking someone would be totally ok and even understandable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not how about repeatedly throat punching them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No...???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmm... busting a knee cap (or caps depending on how annoying they are and how long you want them to just sat down) with a tire iron?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busting them in the head with a big rock? (shout out to my Bajan heritage)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not ok???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if none of the above actions are appropriate or allowable, what would be the best course of action for dealing with people who won't let you move on? This inquiring mind sure would like to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***DISCLAIMER: this is all based on the understanding that while you have or are trying to move on and away from the people, place, or thing that resulted in the drama certain folks want to be on you like white on rice or wet on water trying to bring that mess up again even after you make it clear that you are D-O-N-E done with it.***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7382866516791528925?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7382866516791528925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7382866516791528925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7382866516791528925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7382866516791528925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/forgiving-is-easy.html' title='Forgiving is easy...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-339395758981959319</id><published>2009-02-21T12:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T12:27:21.682-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Ranting</title><content type='html'>Because sometimes life is a beeotch for real...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is funny… interesting, but funny none the less. Isn't it interesting how things and people change? Or not even so much how they change, but how their real character will eventually show out? Not only can the leopard not change its spots, it also cannot hide them. The truth has a way of slipping out no matter how much you try to cover it up. So why bother to cover stuff up? Just be up front about what is what and you don't end up with ugly situations in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else is very annoying, when people mistake silence for shyness and naivete. I am tired of people being nice to my face and smiling at me and looking at me trying to get back in my good graces. Why do they think I would want them back? Why do they think I would need them back? I am crazy but as I always tell people I am not stupid. I can see what is in front of me. I can comprehend a lot more than people give me credit for. I can see a situation for what it is. It is called discernment. It is called having two eyes in my head to see what is going on around me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when people think they can manipulate me or take advantage of me for any reason. I was ok by myself and I can continue to be ok by myself. I do not need to be dependant on others for my happiness. And quite frankly I want no part of the "friendship" or whatever it is that you would call it. I don't want to be a part of the madness and the drama. I have enough drama of my own to want to invite some more. As the saying goes, why borrow trouble? The reality of the situation is that some people are trouble. They have issues and as a result trouble is their constant companion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just makes me want to scream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had that moment when you just want to smack the shit out of someone because you cannot believe that they have the nerve to be even speaking to you like you don't know what they did? I mean come on! If I told you that I knew more about people than they realized why continue with the pretense? GRRR!!! It just makes me so mad! I can't stand it! I just want to tell them to get the hell out of my face with the lies and the bull. I made my mistake in that I gave people the benefit of the doubt .. that was on me.. my mistake... I crossed that bridge… so I happily lit that thing up and watched it burn when I got to the other side and realized that it was a mistake to walk that bridge. I am a quick study… thank God for that. It does not take me repeatedly making the same mistake to get it. That really does not go over well with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also don't like when people stalk my life and make groundless decisions based on random actions that they see. Simple bastards. I am not here to put on a show for anyone. People should really be careful how and what they talk about other. Just because it is true of you does not mean that it would be true of other people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-339395758981959319?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/339395758981959319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=339395758981959319' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/339395758981959319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/339395758981959319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/random-ranting.html' title='Random Ranting'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8051550336932414412</id><published>2009-02-20T16:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T16:56:33.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unbeweaveable</title><content type='html'>Why Weave???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because you never know when you may get shot at...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9q2qKq7DiAQ&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/9q2qKq7DiAQ&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/7544190451237559696-8051550336932414412?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8051550336932414412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8051550336932414412' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8051550336932414412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8051550336932414412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/unbeweaveable.html' title='Unbeweaveable'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1214520641987196002</id><published>2009-02-13T13:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T13:44:20.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Autism Speaks</title><content type='html'>In a very smart (in my opinion) decision yesterday the ruling came down that Autism is NOT caused by vaccinations given as children. My eldest sister who is mother to two autistic boys, who I am sure will go on to later rule the world, was &lt;a href="http://www.wtvh.com/news/local/39520432.html"&gt;interviewed&lt;/a&gt; by her local television station on her thoughts about this ruling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally have a real problem with believing that vaccinations are the sole reason, or a major cause of Autism. I question why it is that people have such a hard time believing that it is (again in my opinion) a genetically based issue. There seems to be such a stigma attached to the idea of it being genetically based. People are willing to believe that vaccinations that have been given to millions of people over generations are the cause of the autism, but balk at the idea that it may be caused by a genetic mutation. Right. Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my hope that with this ruling that people will stop looking for a scape goat and start really focusing on getting to the bottom of the issue, and also focus on providing better services for those who are autistic and the families and people who take care of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1214520641987196002?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1214520641987196002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1214520641987196002' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1214520641987196002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1214520641987196002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/autism-speaks.html' title='Autism Speaks'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2910784408983996360</id><published>2009-02-12T16:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T12:59:21.888-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>What did you call me!!!</title><content type='html'>I am sometimes very troubled by the stupidity of the human race. I am genuinely perplexed at times at some of the idiotic things that are done and the fact that people cannot see that it is stupid or problematic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take &lt;a href="http://babsinblogland.wordpress.com/2009/02/12/they-want-rings-too/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; for example. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this picture and just about died. I really did. Now here is the thing, when I first looked at the shirt I thought "WTFF!!!! someone actually printed that on a shirt?" It really took me a bit of staring to actually understand that is was about the song, but let me tell you I doubt too many people would have spent as much time as I did trying to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Begin sidebar&lt;br /&gt;I am so going to hell for this statement but I don't really care... you mean to tell me that there were NO Spanish speaking people ANYWHERE in the organisation that picked up on this? NONE... REALLY... NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON!?!?!?!?!? Not even in the sweatshops where they are probably produced!!??!?!?!? (I am kidding... maybe... not)&lt;br /&gt;End sidebar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just too much for me... really too much... On the report card of life the House of Deron gets an EPIC FAIL for this bit of foolishness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2910784408983996360?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2910784408983996360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2910784408983996360' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2910784408983996360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2910784408983996360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-did-you-call-me.html' title='What did you call me!!!'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2074449605664188800</id><published>2009-02-09T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T14:11:08.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Rude!!</title><content type='html'>So my friend was telling me about how she was looking for a parking space and came upon a guy who was in his car...taking up 2 parking spaces. So she toots the horn and asks him to pull up a bit so she can park. He won't. She gets out of her car with her cane (should I mention that my friend has a bad hip AND has a handicap tag in her car, AND has to use a cane or crutches right now, AND is getting ready for hip surgery, but I digress) and goes up to his car to ask, nicely if he would please move up instead of taking up two spots. He wouldn't. Seriously. He wouldn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the words of Stephanie Tanner...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW RUDE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to good old fashioned manners and courtesy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too often I am on the bus or train and a pregnant woman, or elderly person will get on and nothing happens. NOTHING. No one makes a move. Finally what usually happens is that a woman will get up to let them sit down while all the guys don't even bat an eyelash. Last year I hurt my ankle and had to wear an ankle brace and walk with a cane for a while. My first time having to take the train, a whole row of guys watched me gimp on to the full train and just stared at me. An older lady sitting across from them gave them the side eye then got up to let me sit down. I would see her each morning on the train and she would hold a seat for me. Call me old fashioned if you want, but I think that a real man/gentleman would and should give up their seat for the elderly, someone pregnant, or someone with a physical issue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How have things changed, and what has happened to make people so apathetic and careless?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so do wish I knew, and am worried for the future generations who will have no sense of decency and decorum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2074449605664188800?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2074449605664188800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2074449605664188800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2074449605664188800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2074449605664188800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-rude.html' title='How Rude!!'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1370146219522603864</id><published>2009-02-01T22:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T22:16:41.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bowl Blogging... My thoughts while watching the game</title><content type='html'>Thought it would be fun to do this so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening Ceremonies:&lt;br /&gt;Flight 1549 Crew... very cool&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer Hudson... That gurl can SANG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG DID YOU SEE THE GI JOE TRAILER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Quarter:&lt;br /&gt;I like Hines Ward... I really do&lt;br /&gt;I can see why they call him Big Ben... 6'5 240lbs... I wonder how many fights he wins by default of being that size&lt;br /&gt;Way to defend the line Arizona, and good eyes Whizzy.. the knee was down&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what type of conditioner Polamalu uses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RUN BEN RUN!!! ha ha ha ha ha... good scramble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr &amp; Mrs Potato Head commercial *DEAD*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second Quarter:&lt;br /&gt;Larry Fitzgerald reminds me of one of my cousins. Really. Hmmm, must look into this.&lt;br /&gt;Kurt Warner got skills&lt;br /&gt;Breaston = Beaston? maybe?&lt;br /&gt;Way to use you head Harrison. Literally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok is anyone else somewhat disturbed by the new Chester Cheetah? Seriously. Dude creeps me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was quite a finish. Good game so far by both teams. Should be interesting going into the locker rooms and an even better second half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halftime Show:&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's why they call him The Boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third Quarter:&lt;br /&gt;Whizzy has good eyes and a good head on his shoulders. Two for two on the challenges.&lt;br /&gt;Roughing the passer, unnecessary roughness... yeah that kinda sucks for the Cards, great for the Steel Curtain, lets see what they do with a second chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth Quarter:&lt;br /&gt;Ok so I am really enjoying the commercials this time around. I have had some real laugh out loud moments. That Mean Joe Greene send up was chuckle worthy.&lt;br /&gt;Fitzgerald has ups, serious ups. &lt;br /&gt;You know in a game where you are allowed to hit people it amazes me how many scuffles ensue. Like seriously have you not gotten to hit enough people yet?&lt;br /&gt;Well damn Pitt... a safety.. ugly man, real ugly. UGLY you ain't got no alibi.&lt;br /&gt;He can jump and he can run, Fitzgerald is a regular multitasker isn't he.&lt;br /&gt;DAYUUUUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrap up:&lt;br /&gt;Whew! what a game! I know there were a lot of people who didn't watch because they figured it would be cake walk for the Steelers, but Arizona showed up and brought their A+ game. Kudos on a job well done. Both teams played well right down to the end. Arizona came in as the underdog and though they did not win the game they showed why and how it is that they came to be there. Kurt Warner is a class act. He is a veteran player who a lot of people counted out when he came to Arizona as a back up quarter back, but in my opinion he acquitted himself quite nicely in this game. The Arizona defense deserves a shout out for holding off the Steel Curtain at some key points in the end zone. You hear so much about the vaunted Steel Curtain, but Arizona showed that there are some bad birds out there in the dessert. Hats off to Pittsburgh for the win, to Arizona for playing four quarters of gut wrenching ball, and to Kurt Warner for being a class act and a very good definition of endurance and perseverance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1370146219522603864?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1370146219522603864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1370146219522603864' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1370146219522603864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1370146219522603864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/02/bowl-blogging.html' title='Bowl Blogging... My thoughts while watching the game'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7106340154791564471</id><published>2009-01-30T16:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T16:44:45.134-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>Fantastic Friday</title><content type='html'>Happy Friday Everyone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randomly found this on line and it made me smile. It also made me that much more appreciative of the men and women who are putting their lives on the line each and everyday so that I may rest easy at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm." - Winston Churchill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jan 30, 3:47 PM EST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy's wrapped birthday gift is dad back from Iraq&lt;br /&gt;Advertisement&lt;br /&gt;Buy AP Photo Reprints&lt;br /&gt;Your Questions Answered&lt;br /&gt;Ask AP: Road salt and health, an in-flight birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAYTON, Nev. (AP) -- Gabriel Hurles' sixth birthday party wasn't a surprise, but his present sure was. The kindergartner was so engrossed in the cupcakes his mother brought to his class on Wednesday that he didn't notice the enormous wrapped box off to the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's one big, giant present," a 6-year-old classmate told him. "See what you got, Gabriel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel peeled back the wrapping paper to find the surprise of his young life - his father, an Army mechanic back in Nevada on leave from his second tour in Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's my dad!" he announced to his classmates at Sutro Elementary School in Dayton, a few miles northeast of Carson City. "Hi, Daddy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Army Spc. Casey Hurles, 23, hadn't seen his son since he left in June. When he learned his leave would coincide with his son's birthday, he hatched a plan to hide out in the 4-foot-tall box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was such a rush of emotion," said Hurles, who said he got butterflies in his stomach while waiting in the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Hurles sat down and ate a cupcake with the birthday boy, teacher Dawn VanSickle presented him with a banner from the class that read, "Welcome Home. Thank you for your service."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VanSickle said she was happy to arrange the reunion in her classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the first things (Gabriel) shared about himself was that his dad was in Iraq and that he was waiting for his dad to come home," she said. "He talks about his dad all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurles, who joined the Army four years ago, is a mechanic in the 1st Cavalry Division stationed at Fort Hood, Texas. He completed one tour in Iraq and is seven months into his second tour. He expects to finish sometime this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel said he looks forward to playing with his dad over the next two weeks but understands why he has to leave again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He has to work," Gabriel said. "He works in the war."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Information from: Nevada Appeal, &lt;a href="http://www.nevadaappeal.com"&gt;http://www.nevadaappeal.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7106340154791564471?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7106340154791564471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7106340154791564471' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7106340154791564471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7106340154791564471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/fantastic-friday.html' title='Fantastic Friday'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8107344631724357819</id><published>2009-01-21T11:12:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T11:37:47.839-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Black People" Conundrum</title><content type='html'>As I watched everything unfold yesterday and in the days leading up to the inauguration I began to really think about the significance of the election of Obama. He is the first African American/Black/Coloured/Non White person to be elected to the highest office in the land. For many people in this country and around the world this is something that they did not think would ever happen in their life time if at all. The November election saw some of the biggest turn outs ever recorded in some areas and major participation in the voting process by the youth of the country. For all of the achievements and barriers that have been broken in this electoral season I cannot help but realise that President Obama faces serious challenges and hindrances to his presidency, namely black people. Yes you read correctly. In my opinion the biggest obstacle facing President Obama right now is black people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Sidebar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the course of the election and also during the inauguration yesterday and its ensuing celebrations, I saw a lot of people crying, and really the only question that came to my mind was "what you crying for?". Now as I was telling one of my older sisters yesterday, if Coretta was alive and she shed a tear, I would have no problem with that, or if it was Rosa, but to see these young people all teary eyed and what not... Well call me cynical, call me cold, call me whatever you like (cause it is not what you call me but what I answer to) but I just cannot understand the tears. It made me question if they really understood the significance of it or if it was the bandwagon mentality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End Sidebar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know that statement will probably annoy at lot of people but I happen not to care. In my opinion black people will be his biggest obstacle, stumbling block, or what have you because to far too many of them his election is seen as a free pass.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before anyone gets too up in arms let me clarify just what I mean by "black people". I am not talking about people who expressed sentiments like Beyonce did in her post serenade interview at the Neighbourhood Ball where she stated (I am paraphrasing) that seeing what has been accomplished made her want to be a better person, a more socially involved person, and a smarter person. I am not talking about those who truly understand that "of the people, by the people, and for the people" means getting involved not sitting back and complaining. I am not talking about the people who are actively involved in their communities and cities. I am not talking about those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am talking about the ignorant people who cannot see beyond the colour of his skin. This is not common only to white people but something that exists in the black community as well. There are those black people to whom Obama is just a black man so because a black man is in office "things gonna go different now cause we got a brotha runnin da show". If that is all you think when you see the President then you are not a help but a handicap. There are many black people out there who are spouting nonsense about how "the man is gone now so we gonna be able to come up". Really? Really? So the only thing that was holding you back was one man? So all the other black people that have made a way and made something of themselves and are on the path to and reaching their goals, what they just got lucky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to the next four years. I look forward to seeing what someone who is not so jaded by politics as usual can do for this country. I look forward to seeing the black community reaching towards the dreams of Martin and Malcolm and making them more of a reality. And (yes I know I should not start a sentence with "and") it is my dearest and sincerest hope that when the real black people who truly understand the magnitude of what has been accomplished hear the nonsense being spouted, they will rise up... and throat punch the idiots that said it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8107344631724357819?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8107344631724357819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8107344631724357819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8107344631724357819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8107344631724357819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/black-people-conundrum.html' title='The &quot;Black People&quot; Conundrum'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4407096688514166925</id><published>2009-01-13T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T22:44:43.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Salutations</title><content type='html'>So I am walking home from the train station this evening and I hear this, "you almost got smacked on the ass". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say what????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, no lie, a guy said this to me. His explanation, after I gave him the "I will make it so you never have children nor ever again enjoy the act of creating them" side eye, was that I looked like someone he knew and apparently his way of saying hello would have been to smack them on the ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened to a simple "Hello"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4407096688514166925?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4407096688514166925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4407096688514166925' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4407096688514166925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4407096688514166925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/salutations.html' title='Salutations'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7523973755711805741</id><published>2009-01-10T17:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:02:13.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When it's no longer a gardening tool</title><content type='html'>At what point does a person, male or female, cross the line from being one who enjoys the pleasures of life to being a ho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This debate has been raging (well I don't know if it is really raging per say but a lot of people are talking about it) for the past week on various sites and blogs that I frequent and it is really intriguing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes someone a ho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sidebar: Now there are many that would automatically start the answer with something along the lines of "well a woman is considered a ho if..." and I would have to stop them right in their tracks. In my opinion there are far more manwhores than hoes out there in the world but ladies get a bad rap. Granted it is wrong no matter what gender you are, but men seem to get away with it more that women do. Why is it that if a guy sleeps with every female within a 5o mile radius he is just sowing his wild oats, but if a woman sleeps with every male within 50 mile radius she is looser than your bowels after mistaking the bar of ex-lax for a bar of chocolate?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the quantity of people slept with that indicates hoedom or is it the quality of the game spit to get into the respective undies? Is a man a manwhore because he has slept with 30 women, or is he a manwhore because he pretended to want real relationships with 30 women to get them into bed? Is a woman a ho because she slept with 30 men, or because she slept with 30 men to get them to buy her stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am of the opinion (see disclaimer) that it is not so much about how many people you sleep with, trick with, mess around with, or whatever, but more so how you go about doing it. If you are up front and make it known from the get go that all you are looking for is a one night stand, jump off, quick fling, or what have you, and both parties are in agreement and accordance, well then suit up and have at it. However if lies and deceptions are used, and one party is mislead, or used in some way then that denotes hoedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again the question, what makes someone a ho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/T9_zJD3MsgE&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/T9_zJD3MsgE&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;DISCLAIMER** the views expressed in this post in no way indicate the acceptance of sleeping around. just so you know, the Ranting Auntie is not down with that, but hey inquiring minds do wonder about things from time to time **&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7523973755711805741?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7523973755711805741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7523973755711805741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7523973755711805741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7523973755711805741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-its-no-longer-gardening-tool.html' title='When it&apos;s no longer a gardening tool'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8661910510164798141</id><published>2009-01-07T09:39:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:09:52.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Today</title><content type='html'>Too often kids today are at the mercy of stupid parents which then, in my opinion, leads to situations like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OntMo5iMUFA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OntMo5iMUFA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I have many questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. why is the 6 year old up by themselves?&lt;br /&gt;2. why does the 6 year old know where the keys to the car are?&lt;br /&gt;3. why is the 6 year old playing Grand Theft Auto?&lt;br /&gt;4. why does the 6 year old not want to miss breakfast at school?&lt;br /&gt;5. how as the parent are you asleep while your child is getting ready for school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if this were a teenager, then I would lay some blame at the foot of the teen because they would be of an age to know better. They would be of an age to be held accountable for their own actions, and be of an age to reason for themselves and know right from wrong. This however was not a teen, this was a 6 year old child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am being too harsh, but if you have a small child then no matter how tired you are, you make sure they GET ON THE BUS, before you go to your bed. At 6 years old there would be no way my child was roaming my house alone or waiting for a bus alone. Sorry, not going to happen. Until I see them safely on the bus then I should be up with them. If for some reason the bus is missed or does not come then it is my responsibility as the parent to get them to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted this is all hypothetical because I do not have children, but I have watched my niece and nephews and when they got up, I got up. I made breakfast, saw that everyone was dressed and ready, then waited for each bus, and walked them to the bus when it came. Only after each one was off to school did I go back and lie down for a bit. To me that is just common sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8661910510164798141?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8661910510164798141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8661910510164798141' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8661910510164798141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8661910510164798141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/kids-today.html' title='Kids Today'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8134069447731218485</id><published>2009-01-06T17:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T17:24:02.587-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>For real though?</title><content type='html'>Part of me really does not want to believe that this is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/30GnIAz5Ics&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;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/30GnIAz5Ics&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The skeptic in me wonders how a four year old "knew" how to fire a gun. I desperately want to believe that maybe the teens were fooling around and one of them accidentally shot the teen and they are just trying to cover it up. However as far as lies go this one would rank towards the top as being really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally would have said that the child got a hold of the gun and in my efforts to get it away from them so they would not harm themselves it accidentally went off. That sounds more plausible and would then leave me to blame the parents for leaving it somewhere that was easily accessible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if this story is real and charges are brought, who will they charge? The four year old? What would the charge be, furthermore how would punishment be assessed? What responsibility will the parents of the toddler have for leaving a gun where the child could get at it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this world coming to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year indeed.... kind of makes you wonder what the rest of the year will bring...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8134069447731218485?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8134069447731218485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8134069447731218485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8134069447731218485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8134069447731218485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-real-though.html' title='For real though?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7825328902970354607</id><published>2008-12-21T12:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T17:23:09.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is Not Me...</title><content type='html'>Really... it is not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not me. I am not the problem. I have now come to accept this as a fact. I do not need to lower my standards, or change the type of person that I am. I do not need to dumb myself down, and I am not high maintenance. I do not need to go backwards in order to go forward. It is not me, it is them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many women are being made to feel as though they are the problem and I say that is a big stinking pile of mess. There are those women who are truly trifling and pointless, but I am not talking about them. I am talking about the normal everyday woman. The one who is smart, decent, has her head on her shoulders and basically has her life together. Where are the men for those types of women? Go to any club on any given Friday or Saturday night and who are the men flocking around? Are they flocking around the ladies who are tastefully (and yes you can be sexy and tasteful at the same time) dressed, looking like their mother taught them manners? No they are not. Instead they are panting after the hoetastic chicks wearing a half yard of cloth, if that, whose every movement, word, and deed broadcast to the world that they will do anything to anyone. How is a decent woman supposed to compete with that? Furthermore why should she want to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men often tout that they want a "lady in the streets and a freak in the bed" yet they are always (well maybe not always but like 99.995% of the time) going after the freaks and ignoring the ladies. What message does that send to the ladies out there? That they need to drop their manners and home training and take up the banner of hoeness? I should hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that as this year comes to a close, all of us real ladies out there need to stand together and make a pack that no matter what we will not take anymore bull$#!+ from men and women alike. We will not lower our standards to compete with all the hoes and tramps running the streets. We will maintain our dignity and decorum. Our manner of dress will leave a man wanting to know more not knowing all there is to know. Our smiles will blind men because they are beautiful not because they are blinged out. We will understand our worth and govern ourselves accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7825328902970354607?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7825328902970354607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7825328902970354607' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7825328902970354607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7825328902970354607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-is-not-me.html' title='It Is Not Me...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5006282329799075489</id><published>2008-12-18T14:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T14:18:20.656-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><title type='text'>He Got Game?????</title><content type='html'>Back on the block and ready to drop knowledge on you like a hot bag of nickles.... sometimes the truth hurts....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So true story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it goes a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude: hey you seem like a nice lady, can I call you sometime?&lt;br /&gt;Chick: I don't think that would be a problem. My number is *********&lt;br /&gt;Dude: ok well let me give you my numbers as well.&lt;br /&gt;Chick: ok so I will know who is calling&lt;br /&gt;Dude: well you would have to call me first, you can call me at work and they will find me. My phone is off right now. I will probably put some money on it next week to see if I can get it turned back on..&lt;br /&gt;Chick.................. ***crickets***................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a true story. This really happened. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTFF!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How have we as a society gotten to this point? What point? The point where a guy would feel OK with revealing that type of information. Your phone is cut off because you are behind in payments and you will TRY to put money on it! CTFO now!! (Come The _uck On for those not up on the abbreviations) CTFO!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to my logic this is a bad situation all the way around. Why? Well doesn't it stand to reason that if you are behind on the cell phone bill (and first off how high is your bill anyway? who you talking to? what are you doing with that phone?) there are other things that you are behind on? Also, if you are behind on the cell bill because you are playing a game of robbing Peter to pay Paul (which happens sometimes I know but still) then that leaves me to wonder about your money management skills. Futhermore, if you are having a cash flow issue, how are you planning to support the cause of taking someone out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got game? Absolutely NOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grade F-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5006282329799075489?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5006282329799075489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5006282329799075489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5006282329799075489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5006282329799075489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/12/he-got-game.html' title='He Got Game?????'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7336852595882629094</id><published>2008-11-30T19:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T20:57:32.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The hardest thing...</title><content type='html'>This will probably be the hardest thing that I will have to write. In this season of thanksgiving I have much to be thankful for. On Thursday I traveled to Syracuse to visit my eldest sister and her family. As we sat down to a pretty much traditional Caribbean thanksgiving dinner my brother in law said grace. My dad looked over to me and said he was so glad I was there. That may seem like an odd statement to make but in light of the circumstances it made sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, according to all accounts, I should not be here. Even after a week and a half it is still hard to wrap my mind around the reality of what happened. Seeing it happen to someone else on television is one thing. Experiencing it first hand...surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the witnesses my life and the lives of 3 of my dearest friends should have ended at around 9:15pm on 11/18/08 on a stretch of road outside of Hampton,VA. After watching the car spin out (at 60mph), hit a guard rail, flip over several times, skid on its roof and side, hit another guard rail, then come to a stop one witness said she expected to see bodies. Instead she saw four young women, shaken and bruised, yet alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the sounds, the metal scraping, gears grinding, the deafening silence broken only by a whispered "Jesus" followed by an equally quiet "everything will be ok"; the sights, rows of headlights, the stars, sparks flying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some said we were lucky, some said it was a miracle. I say that on that road that night life and death stood face to face but mercy stepped in and said NO.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7336852595882629094?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7336852595882629094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7336852595882629094' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7336852595882629094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7336852595882629094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/11/hardest-thing.html' title='The hardest thing...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2493798463133276414</id><published>2008-11-13T00:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T16:40:13.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranting Auntie 3.0</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to take this opportunity to first thank God for making me possible and keeping me alive to see the ripe old age of 30. Morning by morning new mercies I definitely see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next I would like to thank mommy and daddy for raising me right and smacking the mess out of me when I got out of line, and mommy for reminding me on a fairly regular basis that until the day she dies (and to her way of thinking even after that point) she reserves the right to take me out if I don't act right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters, blood and otherwise, for reality checks and not taking me as seriously as I take myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little ones for always giving me something to laugh about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My GDT family for caring and praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least all the haters... hi haters, you see me, and it makes you burn cause you can't be me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ranting Auntie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2493798463133276414?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2493798463133276414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2493798463133276414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2493798463133276414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2493798463133276414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/11/ranting-auntie-30.html' title='Ranting Auntie 3.0'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4674764012265331096</id><published>2008-11-12T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T16:30:19.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Put up or Shut up</title><content type='html'>Well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America voted and as many are touting, the "first black president" has been elected. That being the case I have only one thing to say to "black people"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUT UP OR SHUT UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to back up all the talk that has been going on with action. So many times people always lament and bemoan the fact that "the man" is holding them down from being where they want to be or reaching their goals. Well if they don't achieve anything now, and don't reach any goals, what will be their excuse now that "the man" is out and "brotha man" is in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4674764012265331096?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4674764012265331096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4674764012265331096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4674764012265331096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4674764012265331096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/11/put-up-or-shut-up.html' title='Put up or Shut up'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1264387267884156095</id><published>2008-11-05T00:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T00:57:08.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One more thing...</title><content type='html'>If I see Jessie Jackson crying ONE MORE TIME...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure why as yet but that so irks my spirit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, I remember why now, because Jessie is a hypocrite... yeah I said it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was Obama using small enough words for you to understand now Jessie? huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to bed now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G'night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1264387267884156095?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1264387267884156095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1264387267884156095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1264387267884156095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1264387267884156095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-more-thing.html' title='One more thing...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6065359645937443654</id><published>2008-11-04T23:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T00:01:08.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What it is all about</title><content type='html'>While waiting in line to vote today I had the opportunity to speak to an 80 year old woman from North Carolina. In response to the statement "what is the point of voting? what can one vote do?" she had this to offer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you had come up how I came up, when I came up, you would understand why I would stand on this line all day long if I had to. I never thought I would live to see the day when it was even possible for someone who looked like me to even have the chance to run for an office much less the office of president and that I would be able to vote. I was one of 15 children. We worked the cotton fields earning $.50 a bushel. A black person in office was not even something I could ever think about. But I thank God that I lived to see the day when it happened."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of party affiliations, regardless of who you voted for and why, this is what it is all about. The right to vote. The right to have our voices heard. My generation has always had the right to vote, and sometimes I think that we forget what the generations before us had to go through to secure that right for us. Today I spoke to a woman who knew what it was like not to be able to vote because of the colour of her skin, who knew what it was like to be afraid to vote because to do so could have cost her her life. I was humbled by her words to me today, and as I pulled that lever to cast my vote I did so with a respectful understanding and with a sense of profound gratitude towards those who went before me and made it possible for me to do so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6065359645937443654?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6065359645937443654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6065359645937443654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6065359645937443654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6065359645937443654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-it-is-all-about.html' title='What it is all about'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2604261192091508052</id><published>2008-10-21T10:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T22:26:47.838-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Commentary'/><title type='text'>Sellout and Turncoat...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The insults and character defamation has begun...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok so as stated earlier, anyone who knows me knows that I generally do not discuss politics, however for the second time in this election process I am annoyed enough to say something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a real problem with the way the Colin Powell endorsement is being treated. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hypocrisy of it all is just mind blowing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black people and Democrats, you are hypocrites. Yeah I said it. How quickly black people and democrats forget the days when THEY called Colin Powell a "coon" or "sellout" and many other things because horror of all horrors he was black but a Republican. How many times was he summarily dismissed by Black America and Democrats because he was seen as one of the others and against the Black Man and Democratic America. Do not act like it did not happen because we all know that it did. Oh but how that tune has changed since he made his endorsement. Black people and Democrats you are two faced and that makes you no different from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White people and Republicans, you are hypocrites. Yeah I said it. How quickly white people and republicans forget the days when THEY called Collin Powell a "dynamic speaker" or "excellent statesman" and many other things because wonder of all wonders he was black but a Republican. How many times was he lauded by White America and Republicans because he was a decorated veteran, a strong supporter of their ideals, and an atypical Black Man. Do not act like it did not happen because we all know that it did. Oh but how the tune has changed since he made his endorsement. White people and Republicans you are two faced and that makes you no different from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it is true then what they say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strip away the outside things that mark us as different from one another, skin colour, party affiliations, and underneath it all we are just the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a bunch of two faced hypocrites...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;**Disclaimer: these statements are sweeping generalisations and reflective of the actions of the minority (I hope) not the majority, and also my own opinion. Whether or not you agree is really of no concern.**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/7544190451237559696-2604261192091508052?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2604261192091508052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2604261192091508052' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2604261192091508052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2604261192091508052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/sellout-and-turncoat.html' title='Sellout and Turncoat...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5652829513840210476</id><published>2008-10-14T11:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T13:52:21.282-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blame Game</title><content type='html'>When things are going well it is always "I" or "me" but let something be wrong and that immediately becomes "we", "you", or "they" ... why is that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because people are spineless hypocrites and liars basically. It is a shame really that people are so transparent and selfish. What boggles my mind though is the fact that for some reason they think that others don't see what they are doing and realise that they are passing the buck.  Even when the evidence is staring them right in the face and visible to all, they still push it off as someone elses mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbefreakinlevable....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5652829513840210476?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5652829513840210476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5652829513840210476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5652829513840210476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5652829513840210476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/blame-game.html' title='The Blame Game'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4478491833120692533</id><published>2008-10-08T20:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T12:19:41.806-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Cry Me A River</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Of late my life has been pretty much ok. Hectic, but ok. I may not be exactly where I want to be in life, but I am getting there, and I know that I am not the person that I used to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;" face="times new roman"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So why are people from my past, people I have cut ties to, people I have made it CRYSTAL FREAKING CLEAR to that under no circumstances do I want anything to do with them, trying to talk to me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;Every person has a breaking point. The point at which they say screw it this is not worth it. That point for me was about two years ago. My life really sucked. I found out that the 28 years I had spent being a good kid, studying my behind off (a considerable effort cause I got a lot to work with), treating others kindly, turning the other cheek, and generally being a decent person were basically for naught. When the rubber hit the road the person that I had been to that point did not matter, the only thing that matter was the person everyone was willing to believe that I was. Things got ugly, and for a while I was done with people as a whole, church people in general, and certain people specifically. I wrote some people off because I realised that they were immature, selfish liars. Others were written off because I realised that they were not real friends. I made my choices, kept my head up, and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why is it that some of the people who were left behind are trying to catch back up? Why are they trying to talk now when the time for talking and speaking the truth came and went a long time ago? Why are they saying they don't want to be enemies anymore when by their behaviour they made it clear that we were never really even friends? Why do they pretend ignorance? Why do they want forgiveness yet don't admit to doing anything wrong? Isn't that a contradiction? Why are they asking for forgiveness if they don't think they did anything wrong? Is the guilt weighing too heavily on them? Are too many people asking questions that they can't answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the case may be, my response remains the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRY ME A RIVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; know that they say&lt;br /&gt;That somethings are better left unsaid&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't like you only talked to her (and all the rest of them) and you know it&lt;br /&gt;(Don't act like you don't know it)&lt;br /&gt;All of these things people told me (did you think I would not find out? you really are stupid)&lt;br /&gt;Keep messing with my head&lt;br /&gt;(Messing with my head)&lt;br /&gt;You should've picked honesty&lt;br /&gt;Then you may not have blown it (well you would have still failed but it would not have been an epic fail)&lt;br /&gt;(Yea..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to say, what you did,&lt;br /&gt;(Don't have to say, what you did)&lt;br /&gt;I already know, I found out from him (and her and a whole lot of others)&lt;br /&gt;(I already know, uh)&lt;br /&gt;Now there's just no chance, for you and me, there'll never be&lt;br /&gt;(No chance, you and me)&lt;br /&gt;And don't it make you sad about it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me you loved me (which was obviously bullshit good thing the feeling wasn't mutual)&lt;br /&gt;Why did you leave me, all alone (actually I am happy that you did)&lt;br /&gt;(All alone)&lt;br /&gt;Now you tell me you need me&lt;br /&gt;When you call me, on the phone (do me a favour and lose my number)&lt;br /&gt;(When you call me on the phone)&lt;br /&gt;Dude I refuse, you must have me confused&lt;br /&gt;With some other gal&lt;br /&gt;(I'm not like them baby)&lt;br /&gt;Your bridges were burned, and now it's your turn&lt;br /&gt;(It's your turn)&lt;br /&gt;To cry, cry me a river&lt;br /&gt;(Go on and just)&lt;br /&gt;Cry me a river-er&lt;br /&gt;(Go on and just)&lt;br /&gt;Cry me a river&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Would you like a tissue???&lt;/span&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/7544190451237559696-4478491833120692533?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4478491833120692533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4478491833120692533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4478491833120692533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4478491833120692533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/cry-me-river.html' title='Cry Me A River'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4472487046304451894</id><published>2008-10-06T12:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T13:00:17.869-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate Milk and Butt Burps</title><content type='html'>Happy Monday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;courtesy of my big sis and her hilarious children...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://unclesamscabin.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-did-you-say.html"&gt;What Did You Say???&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~The Laughing Auntie (after reading that...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4472487046304451894?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4472487046304451894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4472487046304451894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4472487046304451894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4472487046304451894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/chocolate-milk-and-butt-burps.html' title='Chocolate Milk and Butt Burps'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2852630642351736357</id><published>2008-10-06T12:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T12:42:58.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud Family</title><content type='html'>While we often disagree on things, and are basically complete opposites of each other, at the end of the day we will always be sisters, and my big sister is WAY cool sometimes. &lt;a href="http://unclesamscabin.blogspot.com/2008/10/autism-awareness-forum-speech.html"&gt;Check this out &lt;/a&gt;to see what I mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2852630642351736357?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2852630642351736357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2852630642351736357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2852630642351736357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2852630642351736357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/proud-family.html' title='Proud Family'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6193165390593413588</id><published>2008-10-01T14:41:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T22:30:21.501-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Commentary'/><title type='text'>Fighting Amongst Ourselves</title><content type='html'>In response to &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-own-worst-enemy.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 comments:&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous said...&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I like your friend's hair (I'm another co-worker). I just wanted to tell you that white girls are awful to each other, too. I have a friend who is always pointing out what she doesn't like about herself (she'll poke her stomach out like a Buddha and say how fat she is). I told her that I try to never point out what I consider to be a flaw because maybe someone else hasn't noticed it. Once you mention it, though, they won't forget it. We also diss on the girl with the latest clothes, hair, significant other, etc. My 15-year-old niece is already using the b-word to describe girls she doesn't like. So, unfortunately, I think it is women in general who are our worst enemies. And, the men in our lives will only live up to the expectations we set for ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September 30, 2008 4:38 PM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very good point is made here which is that the woman on woman bashing crosses all cultural, racial, social, and ethnic planes. Yet it still raises the questions of HOW? and WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW:&lt;br /&gt;How did we (the female gender collectively) end up this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many who would jump and say "it is the (inset appropriate colour reference here) man's fault", but really? Can men really be held responsible for how we see ourselves? for how we see each other? Honestly to me that is giving them far more credit than they deserve. How did we come from societies, cultures, and histories where the women were a strong, vital part of the family and community to where we are now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY:&lt;br /&gt;We are we (the female gender collectively) this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we so competitive with and judgemental of each other? What are we fighting for? Seriously. Again, the knee jerk reaction is to blame men, but at what point do we take responsiblity for ourselves and our actions? Just because men call us bitches and hoes doesn't mean that we have to. Realistically the "change" is not going to start with the men, it has to start with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the nurturers of society (and frankly I see NOTHING wrong with that) it is the women who shape the minds of the future generations so if we really want to effect a change in the way women are viewed within sociatal and family structures, then we need to put up or shut up. We want our men to change, well teach our boys how to be real men. We want each other to change, well teach our girls how to be real ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change starts from within... time to get those mirrors out and start taking a good hard look...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6193165390593413588?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6193165390593413588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6193165390593413588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6193165390593413588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6193165390593413588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/10/fighting-amongst-ourselves.html' title='Fighting Amongst Ourselves'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2611390060308629531</id><published>2008-09-29T23:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T23:33:44.244-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Commentary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>My Own Worst Enemy?</title><content type='html'>-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;From: xxxxxxxxxx&lt;br /&gt;To: xxxxxxxxxxxxx&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Mon, 22 Sep 2008 11:52 am&lt;br /&gt;Subject: advice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i've had my long hair for a few months now. . .my mom loves it, my&lt;br /&gt;cousin &amp;amp; her daughter love it - these are people I trust to tell me, "yeah&lt;br /&gt;that's cute or girl it's time to let that go". . . so it took me by&lt;br /&gt;surprise this morning when a co-worker friend told me, out of the blue,&lt;br /&gt;"you know, I think you should get a short curly bob, that would look cute&lt;br /&gt;on you". . .so are you telling me I don't look cute now??  . . .and why say&lt;br /&gt;this now and not when I first got my hair back in July??  I told her I like&lt;br /&gt;long hair.  I mean, you have seen me, what do i need with a curly bob -&lt;br /&gt;i'll look like a freakin' clown!!  Now, she started wearing a new wig to&lt;br /&gt;work last week, cute little bob w/layers in the back.  I even told her it&lt;br /&gt;looked cute b/c it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do "we" have such a hard time complementing each other??  She's cool&lt;br /&gt;and all but I'm leery of people who give you those backhanded compliments.&lt;br /&gt;ok, thanks for letting me vent.  :-)  do you think i'm overreacting or have&lt;br /&gt;you come across people like this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- CJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received the email above from one of my best girl friends and it got me thinking about the question she raised; why do "we" have such a hard time complementing each other? Why do "we" often tear each other down? Why are "we" often our own worst enemy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By "we" I mean black women, women of colour, however you define yourself, but for the purposes of not wanting to write all of that every time, I will generically use the term black. (Feel free to take umbrage with that, note however that I will feel free not to care).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will probably get me in a lot of trouble with many people (like I care) but I really have to wonder if the "plight" of the black woman is more our own doing than the fault of how others outside of the race/culture treat us. Everyone always wants to blame "the man" for how we are portrayed in the media, treated in relationships, and looked upon in society, but a lot of the blame needs to be laid at our own doorsteps because we are often the number one offenders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times do you see a scenario such as this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Group of ladies...wait.. scratch that.. a group of females (because &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/ladies.html"&gt;ladies&lt;/a&gt; should/would not behave so poorly) are out at the club, decent guy tries to chat them up and they brush him off and generally disavow his existence. He moves along then goes over to someone else who does pay him attention and they start chatting it up and so on. Upon seeing this the females then proceed to talk all kinds of trash about her. Something along the lines of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;girl look at her, she think she cute with her little (insert trendy designer here) outfit on...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;that's probably a weave or a wig or something she got on (don't bust on weaves and wigs people... seriously... now if it's a busted then go right ahead, but if it is tight and looking right well then put the hater aide down and STFU)...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;just cause she is caramel/chocolate/redbone/high yellow/short/tall/slim/curvy etc. she think everybody wants to talk to her&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is such a typical occurrence that it has basically become normative. Why is there such competition going on? What are we competing for? Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole concept of blaming "the man (black and white)" is pretty much ridiculous to me because really, who do you think they are learning that it is ok to treat black women that way from? Why should they treat us any particular way when they see us putting each other down and treating each other so badly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should men not call us bitches and hoes when we call each other that ALL THE TIME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should men respect us when we do not even respect ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously females piss me off with that nonsense. Always the first to fuss and kick about how males in society treat them but not once does it occur to them that the males are sometimes only mimicking their own behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If women want things to change, if WE want things to change, then we need to do like Michael said and start with the [wo]man in the mirror. Stop looking to others to change their ways first and lead by example.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2611390060308629531?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2611390060308629531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2611390060308629531' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2611390060308629531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2611390060308629531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-own-worst-enemy.html' title='My Own Worst Enemy?'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2300658610988445944</id><published>2008-09-29T11:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T23:54:24.533-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Floor-E-duh Sucks...</title><content type='html'>As a Met fan we are basically conditioned from the womb to handle massive disappointment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew our bullpen sucked... we were prepared for the madness... we hoped for the best yet prepared for the worst.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that respect they did not let us down.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They sucked just as badly as we expected them to... it just saddens me that Shea had to close its doors forever on such a sad note.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/begin rant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to publicly say that I will now and forever hate the Florida Marlins for the simple fact that they specifically said (for two seasons in a row now) that if they couldn't get into the playoffs then they would make sure the Mets did not as well.. now we did ourselves in with a horrible bullpen, that is true, but damn it have some freaking class Florida, if we had come into your stadium and it was the last game in a historic place and we were already out of the running then we would have at least had the freaking decency to play with class and let some sh*t slide...and just for that I am gonna root for the Rays because they are a better team anyway and currently the best thing to come out of Florida... bastards... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/end rant...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2300658610988445944?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2300658610988445944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2300658610988445944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2300658610988445944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2300658610988445944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/floor-e-duh-sucks.html' title='Floor-E-duh Sucks...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1794946753415567593</id><published>2008-09-24T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T12:02:18.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkey In The Middle...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;it was a bullshit game as a child and is even more annoying when as an adult people try to play that type of "game". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I am not a mediator. You are an adult. You have issues with a person deal with it and leave me out of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Damn it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I so loathe childish behaviour from supposed adults...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Murder is illegal but some days I think I could look real cute in an orange jumper...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1794946753415567593?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1794946753415567593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1794946753415567593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1794946753415567593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1794946753415567593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/monkey-in-middle.html' title='Monkey In The Middle...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-999531401930967625</id><published>2008-09-23T10:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T10:35:03.978-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports'/><title type='text'>Make It Stop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Those of you who know me well know that I am a die hard Mets fan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Apparently this also means that I like to willingly inflict mental torture upon myself and ride an emotional roller coaster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://metslifers.blogspot.com/2008/09/drained.html"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; eloquently sums up my feelings as a Mets fan right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Off to find some Calgon...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-999531401930967625?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/999531401930967625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=999531401930967625' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/999531401930967625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/999531401930967625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/make-it-stop.html' title='Make It Stop'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2099478771823424710</id><published>2008-09-16T22:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T10:46:22.594-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Side Piece and/or Security Blanket</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;There comes a time in each person's life (or so I believe) when they come to a sad realisation...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You have always been friends but lately not as close as before. Things start changing and you start to notice interesting behaviours. You are no longer included in their plans and they (or so they think) are not included in yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Things that were cool before now cause quarrels and conflict (generally one sided); accusations are thrown about (again usually one sided) and lots of confusion ensues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;One sided demands/requests are made often under the guise of "well I wouldn't do that to you", however the reciprocal demands/requests cannot be made. They will expect and ask of you that which they themselves do not, will not, and possibly cannot give.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Things, actions, words will be taken personally despite a million and one assurances that it wasn't personal. The culture of "it's about me" and "why did you do that to me" becomes very pervasive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Something that used to give you joy now just leaves you feeling empty, used, and to some extent alone. You have invested a lot and realistically gotten nothing in return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;There comes a time in each person's life (or so I believe) when they come to a sad realisation... that they are just a side piece and/or security blanket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2099478771823424710?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2099478771823424710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2099478771823424710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2099478771823424710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2099478771823424710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/side-piece-andor-security-blanket.html' title='Side Piece and/or Security Blanket'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-421487322434640235</id><published>2008-09-15T14:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:27:06.862-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Commentary'/><title type='text'>Beautiful Stranger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;"Are your eyes naturally that chinky or is it the makeup that has them looking like that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Oh my Lord are you serious?!?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is no joke. This happened a few weeks ago and apparently the cashier at the Jamba Juice where I stopped to get my morning smoothie was dead serious because she repeated the question when I just stared at her the first time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Now in all honesty, people have commented on the shape of my eyes in the past, in fact my grandaddy called me his "pug nose baby with the chinese eyes". I have been asked if there are Asians in my family, whether or not I am part Asian, and many things of that nature, but never has it been put to me so bluntly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I don't know why my eyes happen to have a particular slant to them and as far as I know there are no Asian people in my lineage (but like I said that is as far as I know). I myself don't think there is anything different about the shape of my eyes, but others do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The exchange got me thinking about how it is that certain traits became ascribed to certain groups of people, or why in one culture a particular trait is looked down upon, yet other cultures are trying to find ways to achieve the same look, and consider it a mark/standard of beauty. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Examples: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Thick lips on Angelina Jolie = Hot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Thick lips on Angeliqa Jones = Not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Curly afro wig/weave on J-Lo = Hot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Real afro on female of colour  = Not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where have these conflicting standards of beauty come from. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;On the one hand I believe a certain responsibility lies with the modeling/fashion industry and media. While Dream Girls was only a movie imagine for how many women (and men) it was a reflection on real events in their lives. Being pushed out or passed over for someone taller, thinner, lighter, younger, "prettier"; not necessarily better, just "better looking".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;On the other hand I believe that responsibility can also be laid at people's home door steps. As a short, solid chick some could make the argument that maybe I am bitter or jealous because I do not fit the "Standard of Beauty", and if I had been raised in a different environment that may well have been the case. However, I was raised in an environment where I learned that it didn't matter what everyone else said or thought; what truly mattered was what you believed about yourself. We were taught to take pride in how we looked, and carry ourselves with dignity. More importantly we were taught that TRUE beauty is not something that could not be seen on the outside or measured in any calculable (wow that is really a word?) way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;True beauty has nothing to do with physical looks because there are some "gorgeous" ugly people in this world. You know that person that looks so good, but as soon as they open their mouth and start speaking you recoil; a pretty face hiding a dark character. Yet often times by virtue of the fact that they have a "pretty face" their bad behaviour is excused or accepted (Naomi Campbell anyone...).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;What I realise though, is that there will not be a change coming anytime soon. Having worked behind the scenes on fashion shows and sitting in my office in the fashion district in the midst of fashion week I see that the same "standards" still exist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I wonder what it will take to change them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-421487322434640235?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/421487322434640235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=421487322434640235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/421487322434640235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/421487322434640235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/beautiful-stranger.html' title='Beautiful Stranger'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1447675927779271447</id><published>2008-09-15T10:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T10:46:34.685-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>Parenting and Politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Most people who know me well know that I don't get into discussions about politics. You do what works for you, and I will do what works for me. I try to avoid being drawn into or starting discussions on the subject, however recent events that have come to light in this current election are causing me to momentarily break my silence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The Bristol Palin Pregnancy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Now when I first heard about this I thought to myself, "I wonder if her mom is looking back and seeing if there is anything she could have done differently to avoid this situation". I listened to the pundits on both sides alternately praising her for standing behind her child, and berating her for not teaching her child about safe sex pracitises. Now I agree fully that parents are responsible for teaching their children right and wrong and instilling manners and home training. However there are times when for all the good home training that a child receives, they still do foolishness. It is in cases like those where I cannot support getting on the parent because of the foolishness of the child. I don't live at them, I don't know what went on or goes on in their home, but maybe Bristol Palin was just a hoe. Anyone consider that? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Think about it. Many of us know of a family (or even in our own family) who for all intents and purposes is fairly decent and so are most of their kids (if they have more than one) but there is that one kid who is basically of the devil. No matter how much you speak to them, who speaks to them, punishments, groundings and the like they are still determined to rebell by any means necessary at every turn. Maybe that is the type of child this chick is. Futhermore in this day and age when sex sells and the message of safe sex is plastered EVERYWHERE you cannot look me in the eye and tell me that at 17 years old did not know what a condom was or how to use it. That is pure foolishness. Most 17 year olds that I know are far more knowledgeable than I am about sex (which in and of itself is very disturbing), for that matter most kids that I know as young as 11 and 12 years old know a great deal more about sex at their age than I did at that age. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;So for all those people getting on her for being such a horrible parent and how could she let her child do this, consider this; maybe her daughter was just a hoe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;**Disclaimer: no I am not a fan of Sarah Palin. I am however a fan of fair play**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1447675927779271447?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1447675927779271447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1447675927779271447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1447675927779271447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1447675927779271447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/parenting-and-politics.html' title='Parenting and Politics'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-415433238323739583</id><published>2008-09-11T11:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T11:56:40.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone But Not Forgotten</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SMk-PwDdEtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Nof2vgn-Ueo/s1600-h/WTC+Air.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SMk-PwDdEtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Nof2vgn-Ueo/s320/WTC+Air.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244791681368003282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In memory of those whose lives were taken that day, and those who laid their lives down for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SMk--qfUI1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/jvXaEWjb8z4/s1600-h/flower+cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SMk--qfUI1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/jvXaEWjb8z4/s320/flower+cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244792487328097106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-415433238323739583?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/415433238323739583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=415433238323739583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/415433238323739583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/415433238323739583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/gone-but-not-forgotten.html' title='Gone But Not Forgotten'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SMk-PwDdEtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Nof2vgn-Ueo/s72-c/WTC+Air.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5076061861714653794</id><published>2008-09-10T18:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T18:12:42.612-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Hoes and the People who LOVE Them</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;What is the appeal of a hoe? Seriously&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This has been on my mind for some time now and is especially bothersome because I see it happening to people who are (or used to be) in my circle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;What is it about a man whore or skank that will attract seemingly normal people to them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;How many times have you seen what appears to be a decent looking male or female with the equivalent of Flava Flav (spelling? like I care) or New York on their arm? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;It becomes more troublesome when the couple in question and the full story is known to you (and a whole lot of other people some times depending on how hoetastic the person is).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Man whores and skanks, while often stupid and ignorant of many things, know there craft very well. They know just what to say, what to do, and how to act to draw people into their clutches. In many respects they are very much like certain types of spiders that build elaborate traps and then lure their victims in. They, much like animal predators, look for the weakest link in the group or in the armour of the intended victim and exploit that to the fullest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;At the other end of the spectrum you have the victim. We know and understand how they can be lured, but what makes them stay? Most man whores and skanks are cheaters, liars, and repeat offenders. They also have a tendency to be very brazen and presumptuous, flaunting their behaviour in the face of the victim, yet the victim stays. Does low self esteem play into the decision to stay? Do they feel like either they cannot do any better, or that this is all or the best that they deserve? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;It would seem that this type of highly dysfunctional relationship, while in no way new to society, has become more common. One has to wonder why. I am of the mind that it is a type of after effect of past mistakes by society. Teen parents too young to have children much less raise them. A generation of boys trying to teach their boys how to be men and girls trying to teach their girls how to be women. Single parents trying to do it all, some fairly well, some failing abysmally. Boys who remained mentally boys because there was no one to teach them how to be men. Girls who either want to emulate the boys, or don't know their own self worth because they did not have strong female roll models to emulate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;We as a part of society today also have to take part of the blame because we excuse a lot of the trifling behaviours of man whores and skanks. How many "boys will be boys" have we heard uttered or spoken ourselves? How many "well guys do it too so why can't she/I"? How many people do we know personally who are either man whores or skanks and we still keep company with them even knowing all the dirty that they do and the hurt that they have caused?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;How much of the dirt do we know about but keep to ourselves instead of letting the victims know what is really going on. Granted there are some males/females who are the victims in these types of relationships that refuse to see the truth of the matter or to hear anyone who tells them that all is not well in their world. Those people you just have to leave to their own devices. Eventually they will hit a rock bottom point and understand that being in denial does not change reality, but what about the rest of the time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Regardless of the cause the madness remains the same and frankly it is disheartening to see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The rest of us, who are decent people (at least I am, I hope the rest of you are) and just looking for other decent people to be with are now faced with the task of having to weed out the man whores and the skanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Sigh... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5076061861714653794?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5076061861714653794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5076061861714653794' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5076061861714653794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5076061861714653794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/hoes-and-people-who-love-them.html' title='Hoes and the People who LOVE Them'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2421408875901497686</id><published>2008-09-01T02:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T02:42:04.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Greyhound Bus Lines</title><content type='html'>Greyhound Bus Lines is a tool of Satan. It is now somewhere near 2:30 or 2:45 am and I am sitting on the front steps of my parent's home waiting for them to get here and blogging from my phone to pass the time. I should have been on a bus going to see my new niece and her siblings. Thanks to the jackassery and completely mind boggling ineptitude and sheer freaking stupidity of Greyhound and all those associated with that spawn of Satan I am not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL NEVER EVER SET FOOT ON A GREYHOUND BUS AGAIN IN MY LIFE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The devil is so a liar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2421408875901497686?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2421408875901497686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2421408875901497686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2421408875901497686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2421408875901497686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/09/greyhound-bus-lines.html' title='Greyhound Bus Lines'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6946185479350475623</id><published>2008-08-30T15:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T15:21:02.185-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>Little People</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Just some cute &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://piercepictures.blogspot.com/2008/08/exercise-in-avoiding-going-to-bed.html"&gt;pics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; of my small wonders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Happy Weekend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Enjoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6946185479350475623?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6946185479350475623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6946185479350475623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6946185479350475623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6946185479350475623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-people.html' title='Little People'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7308856942401218948</id><published>2008-08-28T10:38:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T18:59:10.303-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>The New Black Plague</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;There is a growing epidemic sweeping the nation. It is invading our homes, our schools, our jobs, it has even made it into the sanctified (well at least they should be sanctified) halls of our places of worship. Families are being broken apart by it. Friends are turning against friends. Brother against brother and sister against sister. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bitch Nigganess...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It is the Black Plague of the 21st century. (ha. pun intended)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Males generally begin showing signs of the disease around the age of 18, but symptoms can present themselves earlier if the subject is exposed to the disease at a younger age. This is especially the case with father to son and older to younger brother transmission. Bitch nigga fathers generally have bitch nigga sons. Bitch nigga older brothers generally have bitch nigga&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;younger brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bitch Nigganess is infecting the male population at an alarming rate. New strains are appearing almost overnight and each one is stronger than that which preceded it. While there is debate over the finer points of the full list of symptoms of Bitch Nigganess, there are some traits and behaviours that are commonly identified as symptoms of those afflicted with the disease:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*arrogance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*prettiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*pettiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*egotism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*narcissism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*pride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*stupidity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Those afflicted with Bitch Nigganess often see themselves as God's gift to the world. They are often man whores who spend an inordinate amount of time trying to amass as many conquests as possible. They are excellent orators and lie with the skill of Peter (who not once, not twice, but THREE times denied that he knew Christ with a straight face.) The disease manifests changes at a cellular level and results amazingly in a change in biological order. Men infected with Bitch Nigganess change from primates to reptiles. This is evidenced by their chameleon like disguise skills and forked tongues. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bitch Nigganess is running rampant in our communities and this country. Bitch niggas are in every sector of life, from the upper tiers of society and government (Capitol Hill is infested with them), to board rooms (Bob Johnson), court rooms (pick a justice, any justice), school rooms (so many teachers will go to hell), even the choir room (Satan I rebuke you) and the ramifications of the actions of those infected are spreading with reckless abandon. The greatest impact of the disease is being made on females in the 18-30 age range as they are the primary prey of those infected by Bitch Nigganess. This is most alarming because Bitch Nigganess is fatal to females. Once a bitch nigga infects a female, her hopes, dreams, aspirations, family connections, self esteem, intelligence, common sense, rationality, reason, and credit rating die. She is left a shell of her former self, mocked by society, scorned by her peers, and shunned by friends and loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time for us to rise up and fight to stop the spread of this disease. A line must be drawn in the sand as we stand and say "thus far and no further!". The burden lies heavily on the grandmothers, mothers, wives, and sisters of the community as they are the first lines of defense to catch Bitch Nigganess in the early stages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, if the young men in your life start exhibiting signs of Bitch Nigganess there are steps that can be immediately taken to counter act and stave off the disease:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*beat his ass down&lt;br /&gt;*send him to Big Momma for a spell&lt;br /&gt;*call on Jesus&lt;br /&gt;*any of the above singularly or in combination&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the grown men in your life start exhibiting signs of Bitch Nigganess... LEAVE!!! Run as fast as you can. Take some time to collect yourself and get back on track. Find a real &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-gentlemen.html"&gt;MAN&lt;/a&gt; as soon as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bitch Nigganess has largely gone undetected by the CDC, and in many societies is accepted as par for the course or as a normal facet of behaviour. This however is not the case. Bitch Nigganess is a virulent disease that needs to be stopped before it turns into a pandemic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is with me?&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/7544190451237559696-7308856942401218948?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7308856942401218948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7308856942401218948' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7308856942401218948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7308856942401218948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-black-plague.html' title='The New Black Plague'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5382175284243333435</id><published>2008-08-26T02:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T02:14:41.577-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Addtion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;She's Here!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SLTwRHStJAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/8_pw22veMmc/s1600-h/Juju+Bee.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SLTwRHStJAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/8_pw22veMmc/s320/Juju+Bee.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239076443344675842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Jewel Elisabeth Pierce, the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://piercepictures.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-addition.html"&gt;newest addition&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; to my cadre of nieces and nephews made her entry into the world on Monday August 18, 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Welcome to the family Juju.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5382175284243333435?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5382175284243333435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5382175284243333435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5382175284243333435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5382175284243333435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-addtion.html' title='New Addtion'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SLTwRHStJAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/8_pw22veMmc/s72-c/Juju+Bee.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2763746550524646127</id><published>2008-08-16T20:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T20:44:42.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet Plane</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Finally off to vacation (or at least I will be in about 10 hours).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Going to cruise the Caribbean, and spend a day at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.visitbarbados.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The Ranting Auntie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2763746550524646127?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2763746550524646127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2763746550524646127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2763746550524646127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2763746550524646127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving on a Jet Plane'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1816302127434062412</id><published>2008-08-15T15:38:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T20:38:54.247-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Simple Bastard IV</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SKdxSAtmOrI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GGw2ZnmvgA0/s1600-h/JP+Morgan+Chase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235277646084324018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SKdxSAtmOrI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GGw2ZnmvgA0/s320/JP+Morgan+Chase.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;JP Morgan Chase Bank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Fridays are my favourite day by simple virtue of the fact that it represents my emancipation time from the drudgery of the 9 to 5. However this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; my general happiness was marred by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jackassery&lt;/span&gt; that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; when I went to Chase Bank to get petty cash for the office.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The Rundown&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Good morning, I need to cash this check for petty cash (signs check in presence of teller, hands over check and photo identification)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: I can't cash this check.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: *crickets*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Excuse me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: I can't cash this check (hands check back to me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Can you explain why to me as my company has been using this branch for the past 5 years and this is the first time I have heard this. I have a signature card on file can you check it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: We don't have signature cards anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;squinty&lt;/span&gt; eyed and mean looking as I have not slept more that 8 hours combined for the whole week) What?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: We don't have signature cards anymore because anyone can cash petty cash checks, but the check has to be made payable to "Petty Cash".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Are you serious? It says "petty cash" in the memo and "CASH" in the pay to line. How can this not be cashed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: Sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;So now I go over to customer service and they try to brush me off. I however and functioning on basically no sleep, my bulls*t quota had already been filled that morning, and I was not leaving the bank. So I went into pretentious b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tch&lt;/span&gt; mode. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Ma'am while the bank may have instituted those changes I do not recall any written notice being sent to our company advising of the new system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Customer Service: Your bank rep should have told you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: Seeing as I am standing here having this conversation with you it is obvious that this did not happen. Our bank rep is (name) her phone number is .... she is however on vacation right now. Her back up is (name) and her phone number is .... I cannot reissue this check as one of the signers is not in the office and I need to cash this check. It is clear from the way the check is issued that it is a petty cash check and if the only thing keeping me from cashing it is that the word "petty" is not in the pay to line, well that is not acceptable. I either want to speak to a manager or ask that our rep be called for clearance because this is frankly ridiculous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Yeah I said all of that and you best believe they made the phone call. I then had to sit and wait for 30 minutes for our company bank rep to send and email to the branch administrator giving the okay for the check to be cashed at which point once &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; the teller calls me back to the window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: Okay I can take the check now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: (giving stink eye) You already have it. Customer Service took it from me and brought it over here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: (looks down) Oh yeah. Sorry. Okay I need two pieces of identification, preferably a photo id and a credit card.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: What the!?!?!? Two pieces of id? Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: Oh, if the check is over $500 you have to give two pieces of id.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: So you didn't tell me this when I was first here because?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Teller: *crickets*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;stupsing&lt;/span&gt; mouth real hard and searching bag, thankfully I had my bank card in my purse)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I hand over my bank card and then have to place a finger print on the check and FINALLY after an HOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of idiocy I was able to get the cash and leave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I officially hate Chase Bank with every fiber of my mortal being and rebuke their DUMB ASS practises to the pit of hell from whence they came. The devil is a liar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1816302127434062412?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1816302127434062412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1816302127434062412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1816302127434062412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1816302127434062412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/simple-bastard-iv.html' title='Simple Bastard IV'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SKdxSAtmOrI/AAAAAAAAAD4/GGw2ZnmvgA0/s72-c/JP+Morgan+Chase.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6036073801795563865</id><published>2008-08-14T18:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T18:54:07.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone Too Soon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;We will miss you Mac.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;May God be with your family in their time of bereavement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/M9FaHXIhX_4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/M9FaHXIhX_4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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/7544190451237559696-6036073801795563865?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6036073801795563865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6036073801795563865' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6036073801795563865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6036073801795563865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/gone-too-soon.html' title='Gone Too Soon'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4929445073285632971</id><published>2008-08-12T16:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T16:27:35.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'>People Suck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Dealing with people who are so busy telling you what they can't do and why they can't do it that they don't even actually understand what you are asking them to do can be very frustrating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;They go on and on about how they have this that and the other to deal with so they can't help you and you have yet to get a word in edgewise and even explain what is going on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Then they turn right around and ask you for something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I am so fed up with people right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4929445073285632971?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4929445073285632971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4929445073285632971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4929445073285632971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4929445073285632971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/people-suck.html' title='People Suck'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2174401219975632922</id><published>2008-08-12T11:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T11:37:39.501-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>The Wine Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Enjoy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jcjLA133EjA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jcjLA133EjA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;(In case you are wondering, yes I know this person)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2174401219975632922?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2174401219975632922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2174401219975632922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2174401219975632922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2174401219975632922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/wine-song.html' title='The Wine Song'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6441164243213841484</id><published>2008-08-11T11:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T11:29:05.252-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kids'/><title type='text'>Beat Your Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;So I am just on a roll with saying things that will piss people off... oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters and I got beatings as children and I believe that we were better off because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These children however obviously need to have their behinds lit up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cut up &lt;a href="http://www.switched.com/2008/08/04/wii-deprivation-drives-man-to-kidnap-himself/?icid=100214839x1206794245x1200378520"&gt;faked his own kidnapping&lt;/a&gt; because his parents would not get him a Wii system. My arm would be sore from wearing his behind out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kid...&lt;a href="http://www.switched.com/2007/11/06/boy-hires-hitman-to-kill-parents-after-losing-his-playstation-pr/"&gt;tried to hire a hit man&lt;/a&gt;!!!! Jesus would have had to come down off the throne to save me personally should I have tried this mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This girl &lt;a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-511092/Schoolgirl-filmed-trying-kill-parents-cleared-attempted-murder.html"&gt;VIDEOTAPED&lt;/a&gt; herself trying to kill her parents!!! She needs a beating, prayer, and some serious help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the good of all humanity people need to BEAT THEIR KIDS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6441164243213841484?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6441164243213841484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6441164243213841484' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6441164243213841484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6441164243213841484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/beat-your-kids.html' title='Beat Your Kids'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-4907490538183283385</id><published>2008-08-07T14:47:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T17:06:47.483-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>You Are NOT That Important!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I, like many if not most people these days, own a &lt;/span&gt;bluetooth&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; ear piece. It comes in very handy when I need to multi task and don't want to run the risk of:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*choking myself with the wire from the traditional ear piece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*accidentally cutting the cord of the ear piece with the scissors I was using to open a box (this really happened and I was in the middle of a conversation)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*forgetting the ear piece was attached to the phone and walking away resulting in the phone being dropped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;For as good as they may be, I do have one real serious beef with them...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;People who wear them ALL THE TIME!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTTF&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You are NOT that important... really...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I am sick and tired of seeing people with their ear pieces in all over the place. Let's be real shall we, unless you are a doctor who is on call all the time there is no need for that thing to be in your ear all the time. More often that not my ear piece is left at home. Truth be told I very rarely take or make calls on my cell phone during the day. I either text or people call me at my desk. If I do happen to bring it with me it is because I specifically intend to call someone while I am on my lunch break and out walking, or when I get off the train. In those cases, it stays turned off and put away until I am actually going to use it. What is the point of having it on while I am on the train (even though my train runs outside for part of my trip)? The train is loud, and even when I get calls on the train I tell whomever is calling that I am (duh) on the train and will call them back when I get off. It is like those people who take out there (insert pretentious phone or &lt;/span&gt;PDA&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; device name here) on the train and start playing with it. &lt;/span&gt;WTF&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; are you doing? You are on the train! You know good and well you are getting no signal and can't do a damn thing with the phone except have it out so people can see that you have one. Pretentious &lt;/span&gt;bougie&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; douche bag that you are. Yeah I said it. (that is for those people who will point out to me that I myself own a &lt;/span&gt;PDA&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; smart phone. Bite me all of you. I know when it is and is not appropriate to whip it out [pun fully intended])&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;My biggest annoyance I think comes with people who I see wearing them in church. Come the [censored] on now!!! Unless that is Jesus calling you on the royal telephone to glory GET OF THE [CENSORED] PHONE!!! To me that is the height of &lt;/span&gt;jackassery&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; and pretentiousness. I have seen ushers, musicians, and even other ministers walk into the house of the Lord with the things still in their ears and mosey right on up to the platform. Again I say unless you are a doctor who is on call or some other type of emergency personnel or something you are NOT that important!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I don't even walk with my own on a Sunday when I go to church because everyone who knows me knows that it is totally pointless to call me between the hours of 12 noon and 3pm. I am in church, it is loud (at least in my church... we are Pentecostal and Caribbean), and regardless of that I have the phone on vibrate anyway in case anyone forgets themselves and actually does call me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I am not in anyway trying to knock the whole &lt;/span&gt;bluetooth&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; hands free thing, it is a great idea. I just get overwhelming annoyed at the &lt;/span&gt;knucka&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;knuckas&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; (one of my dad's favourite sayings) who wear them all the time and in the most inappropriate places. Simple Bastards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-4907490538183283385?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/4907490538183283385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=4907490538183283385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4907490538183283385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/4907490538183283385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/you-are-not-that-important.html' title='You Are NOT That Important!'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3702240452150920690</id><published>2008-08-06T01:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T14:31:42.202-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolut &amp; Paris Hilton... The Cure For A Bad Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://stuffblackpeoplehate.com/2008/08/05/white-forgetfulness/"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; made my morning....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;and the following made my night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" height="388" width="464"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www2.funnyordie.com/public/flash/fodplayer.swf?96d0a705"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="key=64ad536a6d"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="key=64ad536a6d" allowfullscreen="true" quality="high" src="http://www2.funnyordie.com/public/flash/fodplayer.swf?96d0a705" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="388" width="464"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; width: 464px;"&gt;See more &lt;a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/paris_hilton"&gt;Paris Hilton&lt;/a&gt; videos at Funny or Die&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;LMAO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolut and Paris Hilton apparently make a great combination when one is having an otherwise crappy day.&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/7544190451237559696-3702240452150920690?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3702240452150920690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3702240452150920690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3702240452150920690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3702240452150920690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/absolut-paris-hilton-cure-for-bad-day.html' title='Absolut &amp; Paris Hilton... The Cure For A Bad Day'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7420677159367665762</id><published>2008-08-02T21:43:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T16:23:15.779-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Commentary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Chivalry Is Dead...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;and women killed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I said it. Women are responsible for driving a stake through the heart of chivalry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This really annoys me because as a woman I understand that the lack of chivalry in my day to day life is directly the result of generations of women working so hard to be "free and equal" that they obliterated the finer points of the things that made men and women &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" &gt;inherently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt; and wonderfully different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are those women who would say that men and women should be equal in all things, that there is no division between the sexes, that anything a man can do a woman can do with equal measure. Those who believe that all women should be "Independent Women" (screw you Destiny's Child). To those women I respectfully say [censored]!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, I am fully in support of the idea that if a woman and a man do the same job or perform the same function in the workforce then the pay received should be equal. A woman should not be passed over for a promotion or looked over for a job because of her gender. That is discrimination and that is ignorant. That however is not what I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do NOT support is the social castration of men. We are living in a society where females are being taught that they don't need a man for anything up to and including having/raising kids, which in turn breeds a level of disrespect towards and devaluation of women by men. Back in the day a man had to work to gain a woman's attention. He had to have class, style, manners, be gainfully employed, and carry himself with dignity. He had to treat her with respect and treat her as something valuable. In turn, women treated men with respect and allowed them to be real men. Then came feminism. I am woman hear me roar! I can have a career, run the house, and do everything a man can do. Big freaking deal. Now again I will reiterate that I am in full support of equal pay for equal work irrespective of gender. However, I believe that the independent woman/men and women are equal ideology does not work well with in the social and family structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men and women are NOT THE SAME, and there is a reason for that. Men were fashioned in the role of protector and women in the role of nurturer. It is a ying and yang like relationship that balances itself out. When one party tries to take on the mantle of the other, then things are thrown out of balance and we end up where we are today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is going to get me in trouble, but what do I care. There are times when it seems that the feminist movement did more harm than good. I am sick and tired of hearing women go on and on about how they don't need a man to do for them because they can do for themselves. Well good for you SuperWoman, but what about the rest of us? There are some women who actually like men to be men (I can hear the undies of the extreme feminists twisting into a serious bunch right now). I want a man to open doors for me. I want a man to see my walking with bags and offer to assist me. I want a man to give up their seat for me on the bus or train. I want a man to offer to fix things for me. I want a man to be the head of my household, to be an example for my future children, to protect me. Does that make me lazy? Does it make me old fashioned? Does it make me crazy? I don't think so. I know good and well how to be handy, and can fix and repair a good number of things in my apartment on my own, but just because I can does not mean that I want to all the time. I also believe that I could raise a child on my own, but just because I could does not mean that I would want to or that I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the days when men could be men without the fear recrimination from women. I miss the days of men holding doors, pulling out chairs, giving up seats, and just being gentlemen. I miss the days of men bringing the car around or offering their jacket so you would not have to get wet up in the rain. I miss the days of men being men in the home. In this day and age a chivalrous man is a rarity. The older men who were raised right are dying out, and the generations following them are not being taught to be proper men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men of my generation and the ones that follow me know nothing of chivalry and being a man. They have not been taught to be a gentleman, and they have no examples of gentlemen around them to govern themselves by. They have been brought up in a society of females and dudes with no real &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/ladies.html"&gt;ladies&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-gentlemen.html"&gt;gentlemen&lt;/a&gt; around to learn from. Go out and pick up any magazine especially those geared towards the "black" male youth and what do you see portrayed on the cover? Do you see upstanding men and women of the community? No you don't. There are rappers, and ballers, and random chicks who are NOT the example that the youth of today should be following after, but what else can we expect from a society that places more value on material worth than it does on class and character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I understand that to some extent the feminist movement was needed to address disparity and inequality once women entered the workforce, I believe that it was taken too far when it emasculated men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will now go and hide from the feminist who will no doubt be after my blood...SIKE!!&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/7544190451237559696-7420677159367665762?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7420677159367665762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7420677159367665762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7420677159367665762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7420677159367665762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/08/chivalry-is-dead.html' title='Chivalry Is Dead...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1643336811465374421</id><published>2008-07-30T22:59:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T15:29:49.679-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter Saves Lives</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;So it is entirely possible that these may be the creation of photo shop... but who cares!?!? They made me laugh which in turn took my mind off of wanting to open up a can of whoop ass on some people, and/or stabbing them repeatedly with a rusty knife until they either died from blood loss or from the eventual infection. Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0-JtpitI/AAAAAAAAADg/qUWg8eqSnxw/s1600-h/no+diving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0-JtpitI/AAAAAAAAADg/qUWg8eqSnxw/s320/no+diving.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018884717775570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;ok this just amuses me for the simple fact that I would love to see it happen in real life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0sUBD0pI/AAAAAAAAADY/iWoQ9vFDAX0/s1600-h/multiply.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0sUBD0pI/AAAAAAAAADY/iWoQ9vFDAX0/s320/multiply.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018578245898898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;this is what happens when the church tries to speak like the world. DON'T DO IT!! there is a reason why the church and the world need to stay separate! Remember we are in the world but not of the world. (but it sure is funny)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0eqqSzmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/9umly3pFjyI/s1600-h/shoot_officers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0eqqSzmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/9umly3pFjyI/s320/shoot_officers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018343806258786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;WTFF!!!! Seriously... I don't get it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0WW-S_bI/AAAAAAAAADI/RdV78RpZkGY/s1600-h/shock+fine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0WW-S_bI/AAAAAAAAADI/RdV78RpZkGY/s320/shock+fine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018201082494386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;So who would have to pay the fine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJEy-xWp2vI/AAAAAAAAADA/R0WQL9Gd8QY/s1600-h/signs-7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJEy-xWp2vI/AAAAAAAAADA/R0WQL9Gd8QY/s320/signs-7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229016696335489778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This one just makes no sense what so ever. Is the sign in the bottom left telling you to watch out for horny deer? WTF????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE1EXkrVnI/AAAAAAAAADo/RgX-fCrr-Qo/s1600-h/no+pets+allowed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE1EXkrVnI/AAAAAAAAADo/RgX-fCrr-Qo/s320/no+pets+allowed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018991517455986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I have seen this ass backwards sign combo numerous times and cannot for the life of me figure out why no one seems to notice the contradictory nature of the signs. Further proof that the world is full of simple bastards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1643336811465374421?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1643336811465374421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1643336811465374421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1643336811465374421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1643336811465374421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/laughter-saves-lives.html' title='Laughter Saves Lives'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJE0-JtpitI/AAAAAAAAADg/qUWg8eqSnxw/s72-c/no+diving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-806728332703361098</id><published>2008-07-28T23:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T00:20:24.720-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Simple Bastard III - Shark Week Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"There are no dangerous sharks, just dangerous situations" ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quote above was made by the gentleman in the clip below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple "let's go stand where the animals that are known to eat ANYTHING and can kill us are swimming about in mass quantities while wearing absolutely NO protection of any kind and see what happens" Bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was this not considered a "dangerous situation"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaking my head...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2sZf8R4_oXk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2sZf8R4_oXk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&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/7544190451237559696-806728332703361098?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://dsc.discovery.com/convergence/sharkweek/sharkweek.html' title='Simple Bastard III - Shark Week Edition'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/806728332703361098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=806728332703361098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/806728332703361098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/806728332703361098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/simple-bastard-iii-shark-week-edition.html' title='Simple Bastard III - Shark Week Edition'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8767053553800907042</id><published>2008-07-28T22:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T22:58:40.412-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>And then the fight started...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;While I cannot take credit for being the author of these little gems, I will gladly pass them on.&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND THEN THE FIGHT STARTED...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her someplace&lt;br /&gt;expensive... so, I took her to a gas station...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the fight started....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for&lt;br /&gt;Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's&lt;br /&gt;license to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had&lt;br /&gt;left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I&lt;br /&gt;would have to go home and come back later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'. So I opened my shirt revealing&lt;br /&gt;my curly silver hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and&lt;br /&gt;she processed my Social Security application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the&lt;br /&gt;Social Security office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, 'you should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten&lt;br /&gt;disability, too.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the fight started...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I&lt;br /&gt;kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a&lt;br /&gt;nearby table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife asked, 'Do you know her?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes,' I sighed, 'She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to&lt;br /&gt;drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she&lt;br /&gt;hasn't been sober since.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My God!' says my wife, 'who would think a person could go on&lt;br /&gt;celebrating that long?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the fight started...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rear-ended a car this morning. So, there we were alongside the road,&lt;br /&gt;and slowly the other driver got out of his car. You know how sometimes&lt;br /&gt;you just get soooo stressed and little things just seem funny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well I couldn't believe it... he was a DWARF!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stormed over to my car, looked up at me, and shouted, 'I AM NOT&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY!!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I looked down at him and said, 'Well, then which one are you?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the fight started...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8767053553800907042?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8767053553800907042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8767053553800907042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8767053553800907042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8767053553800907042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-then-fight-started.html' title='And then the fight started...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5958676873708223054</id><published>2008-07-28T12:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T12:31:28.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vocabulary Rescind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Ok, so there are somethings that push my buttons and put me into a haze where I happily plot the downfall of others. However, sometimes in my rage I do a disservice to some people, and I am woman enough to admit when I cross lines and such. Case in point, I sometimes use the word "retarded" to describe actions and or people that I find to be ignorant, annoying, dumb, or just plain stupid. This however is not a good term to use as it does not reflect well on the population of people who genuinely do fall into that category. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;So hence forth the use of that term in ire has been rescinded and will be applied solely to those who fit the clinical definition of the term, and in such context as is appropriate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;That does not however mean that I will stop calling people out for dumb ass behaviours. So to that end, people or things that I find to be ignorant, annoying, dumb, or just plain stupid will be referred to as simple bastards. &lt;/span&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/7544190451237559696-5958676873708223054?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5958676873708223054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5958676873708223054' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5958676873708223054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5958676873708223054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/vocabulary-rescind.html' title='Vocabulary Rescind'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8939347281846622760</id><published>2008-07-25T01:10:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T23:01:35.328-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Tourists and Tasers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I want a taser gun as an early birthday present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok, so they are illegal, so what. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken if the cause is just and I believe that being able to tase the simple bastard tourists that screw up my time off for good behaviour is a just cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I travel. I go to other cities and countries, I have been and will continue to be at times a tourist. However as someone who works in a major city furthermore in an area that is a mecca for tourists (NYC: Times Square/Fashion District area), I have cultivated a deep respect for the locals. I am sick and tired of going outside on my lunch break with the anticipation of enjoying a nice walk, maybe some window or actual shopping, and just getting some air only to be met with this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIn5I8HczNI/AAAAAAAAACI/3xdT2Ebz-P8/s1600-h/tourists.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIn5I8HczNI/AAAAAAAAACI/3xdT2Ebz-P8/s320/tourists.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226982774511815890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Simple (ohhh wee y'all we's in da big city) Bastards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;BULLOCKS!!!!   WTFF!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;My main beef with tourists is their inability to use common sense and make good judgments. They are loud, rude, pushy, and feel that everyone should pander to their whims as they are spending their precious dollars in our city and boosting our economy. While I may not be a native born New Yorker, let me offer what would be the common response of a native:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;@#$&amp;amp; YOU, YOU DUMB@$% MOTHER@#%*$%. (this would probably be accompanied by particular hand motions)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When faced with tourists I often fell like Lois Griffin in that episode of Family Guy where all the city folk (New Yorkers apropos) come to Quahog to see the leaves, and want to do to the tourists what Stewie did to Brian:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_AJ0SkbPxAk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_AJ0SkbPxAk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are many people who would say that I should lighten up, that I should allow for the fact that people are often enthralled with the sights and for many it is the first time they have seen these sights and it is an awe inspiring thing. To those people I respectfully say BITE ME. You can be filled with awe without standing in the middle of the sidewalk blocking my path as you stare at the buildings (wtf? do they not have buildings where you come from?) and taking a million and one pictures. You can be filled with awe without gathering in large masses at corner impeding the flow of traffic as you try figure out where to go from your map instead of just asking someone. You can be filled with awe without you and your whole damn gaggle of loud ass children holding up the line in McDonald's as I am try to get my damn fries because your ignorant ass cannot figure out what the hell you want. It is freaking MCDONALD'S you ignorant bastard!!! The basic menu is the SAME damn it!!! A Big Mac here is the same damn thing where you come from too and yes the value meal comes with fries you simple bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8939347281846622760?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8939347281846622760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8939347281846622760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8939347281846622760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8939347281846622760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/tourists-and-tasers.html' title='Tourists and Tasers'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIn5I8HczNI/AAAAAAAAACI/3xdT2Ebz-P8/s72-c/tourists.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2346953802175937697</id><published>2008-07-23T13:24:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T16:42:04.929-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Simple Bastards II</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I had so much fun doing this yesterday that I figured why not make it a weekly thing. So here in no particular order is my list of Simple Bastards for the week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId5LmE_osI/AAAAAAAAABo/LHSCjM0cWhM/s1600-h/sharpie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId5LmE_osI/AAAAAAAAABo/LHSCjM0cWhM/s320/sharpie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226279132693766850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Al Sharpton - Simple "man perm wearing, ignorance spewing, so NOT the voice of the black people" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId9DohWsYI/AAAAAAAAABw/CL7hbX0POK0/s1600-h/grace_nancy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId9DohWsYI/AAAAAAAAABw/CL7hbX0POK0/s320/grace_nancy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226283393957147010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Nancy Grace - Simple "dumb behind has no business reporting news and why do you look like that???" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId-E7eW51I/AAAAAAAAAB4/rejMnpTSP-8/s1600-h/crazy+cruise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId-E7eW51I/AAAAAAAAAB4/rejMnpTSP-8/s320/crazy+cruise.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226284515736348498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tom Cruise - Simple "couch jumping, Oprah scaring, done lost his damn mind" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId-zokCzEI/AAAAAAAAACA/jiiVegssncI/s1600-h/crock+killer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId-zokCzEI/AAAAAAAAACA/jiiVegssncI/s320/crock+killer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226285318113774658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sting ray - Simple "Crocodile Hunter killing (I am STILL upset about that)" Bastard*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://corroboratory.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/ghetto-fabulous3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 346px;" src="http://corroboratory.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/ghetto-fabulous3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This Chick - Simple "you just made me throw up in my mouth with your nasty ghetto hot mess self" Bastard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bradley.chattablogs.com/ghetto%20idtiot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 338px;" src="http://bradley.chattablogs.com/ghetto%20idtiot.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Her Man - Simple "how is it that you can buy all the "ice" yet your dumb behind is still living in your momma's basement/on your momma's couch, hey baby can I holla atchu fu a minute, can't speak proper english, saggin pant wearing, nasty ass" Bastard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The week has a few more days to go. I may have to revisit and update this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*yeah yeah yeah.. whatever... I know it is not a person, but as it is my blog I can pretty much do and say what I want.&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/7544190451237559696-2346953802175937697?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2346953802175937697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2346953802175937697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2346953802175937697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2346953802175937697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/simple-bastards-ii.html' title='Simple Bastards II'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SId5LmE_osI/AAAAAAAAABo/LHSCjM0cWhM/s72-c/sharpie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3642109585241421886</id><published>2008-07-22T20:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T20:29:57.097-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You For Being a Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://tv.msn.com/tv/article.aspx/?news=323943&amp;amp;GT1=28103"&gt;Golden Girl Gone&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estelle Getty, probably best known for her role as "Ma" Sophia, on Golden Girls passed away today at the age of 84.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A true screen gem, and in my mind a comedic genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dorothy: Ma, what the hell are you doing?! (at finding Sophia standing naked in front of the fridge)&lt;br /&gt;Sophia: I'm giving the left-over  meatloaf a thrill – what do you think I'm doing, it's hot as hell in here!&lt;br /&gt;Dorothy: Well, close it before the food spoils.&lt;br /&gt;Sophia: Okay. [covers  herself]&lt;br /&gt;Dorothy: I meant the refrigerator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the many years of laughter you gave us. You will be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being a friend&lt;br /&gt;Traveled down the road and back again&lt;br /&gt;Your heart is true&lt;br /&gt;You're a pal and a confidant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you threw a party&lt;br /&gt;And invited everyone you knew&lt;br /&gt;You would see the the biggest gift would be from me&lt;br /&gt;And the card attached would say&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3642109585241421886?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3642109585241421886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3642109585241421886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3642109585241421886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3642109585241421886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/thank-you-for-being-friend.html' title='Thank You For Being a Friend'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7874848477217071657</id><published>2008-07-22T12:18:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T17:05:19.238-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Simple Bastards I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Give me a moment... this is the second time I am having to write this because the first version read like a portion of a Richard Pryor stand up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMPL NMB NT DMB SS BSTRDS!!!! (anyone want to buy a vowel?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is this world so full of people who are so abysmally stupid? People who are so disconnected from the plane of reality that you have to wonder how it is that they are able to survive. People whose actions and words are so painful to see and hear that you want to rip out your OWN eyes and ears just so you do not have to be party to the madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple bastards are a blight on the human race. They are responsible for the decline of society, morals, values, and all that we hold dear. Every atrocity that has been committed against mankind can directly or indirectly be connected to a simple bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.ebaumsworld.com/picture/phaydh/TheBonesofSatan-1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 264px;" src="http://media.ebaumsworld.com/picture/phaydh/TheBonesofSatan-1.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan - Simple "I am better than you God and I will take over the whole world" Bastard*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYYokQbvuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/bwxTnSb2E5M/s1600-h/chris+columbus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 287px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYYokQbvuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/bwxTnSb2E5M/s320/chris+columbus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225891502816476898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher Columbus - Simple "Screw the map, I know where the #@$% I am" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hitler.org/images/uniform.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 326px;" src="http://www.hitler.org/images/uniform.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adolf Hitler - Simple "I and the Nazis are better than everyone and I will take over the world" Bastard (note the similarities to Satan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYbRvNzK2I/AAAAAAAAAA0/S6K6W8L-VCw/s1600-h/Trans-Atlantic1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 296px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYbRvNzK2I/AAAAAAAAAA0/S6K6W8L-VCw/s320/Trans-Atlantic1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225894409156111202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trans Atlantic Slave Trade - Simple "let's screw over millions of people for generations to come" Bastard**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;z160=zpreC(160,600);z336=zpreC(336,280);z728=zpreC(728,90);z155=zpreC(336,155);zItw=160&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="clear" id="abm"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;div id="abc"&gt;&lt;div id="articlebody"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;table align="center"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYdgWQZiyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/g3rMvIJojAE/s1600-h/JJackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 313px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYdgWQZiyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/g3rMvIJojAE/s320/JJackson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225896859177421602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jessie Jackson - Simple "He's talking down to black folk (like black folk are not smart enough to understand what is said by a person with any type of intelligence and education..dumbass... just because you can't understand what he is saying doesn't mean the rest of us can't figure it out)" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYgvwSLQKI/AAAAAAAAABE/yH2nB8iWQww/s1600-h/dummy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYgvwSLQKI/AAAAAAAAABE/yH2nB8iWQww/s320/dummy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225900422397116578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Savage - Simple "I make sweeping statements and generalisations about things that I KNOW ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT and then call anyone who actually knows something about the subject and contradicts my incorrect assumptions &lt;a href="http://unclesamscabin.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-far-left-stalinist.html"&gt;far left stalinists&lt;/a&gt;" Bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Obviously this is not a real depiction but it amused me&lt;br /&gt;**Ok so the Atlantic Slave Trade is not an actual person but you can bet that a Simple Bastard came up with the idea&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/7544190451237559696-7874848477217071657?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7874848477217071657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7874848477217071657' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7874848477217071657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7874848477217071657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/simple-bastards-i.html' title='Simple Bastards I'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SIYYokQbvuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/bwxTnSb2E5M/s72-c/chris+columbus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-8101408380765034843</id><published>2008-07-21T10:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T16:35:06.904-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Commuting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Freakin MTA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It is not even lunch time and I already want to kill... or at least maim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I propose a change to the definition of the words "futile", "incomprehensible", and "pointless". When you look in the dictionary you should also find listed under the definition of these words the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;NYC PUBLIC TRANSPORTAION SYSTEM (here after referred to as the freakin MTA).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;WTFF!?!?!? Can I just get one morning where something does not screw up my commute?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This morning's commute went as follows: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1. get into station (hot as all get out) look and see train is coming... YES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2. get on train, score seat immediately... YES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3. get out book, arrange self and settle in for a peaceful ride... YES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;4. realise that the air is obviously set on BARELY ON because the car is still warm.. this is still okay.. it is not ideal situation, but at least the air is on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Things start to go down hill from this point on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;5. go all of 5 stations to hear the following announcement: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Ladies and gentlemen we are delayed due to train traffic ahead of us."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;followed up by:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Ladies and gentlemen, due to debris on the tracks at Bowling Green, Manhattan bound 4 and 5 trains are running on the local track" (I happen to be on the local train)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;At this point things are still okay. I have time and I am relaxing on my train. We are slowly but surely are making our way into the city. Then the following announcement is made:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Ladies and gentlemen, due to the track conditions at Bowling Green, Manhattan bound 4 and 5 trains are termanting at Wall Street. For continuing service into Manhattan take the 2 (train I am on) or 3 train."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Things are still okay at this point because like I said, I am sitting on my train with my book and we are slowly but surely moving along...I know that when we get to the Wall Street stop there will be a truck load of people waiting to get on the train, but what do I care, I am seated, things are still well in my world... that is until we actually get to the Wall Street stop and hear this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Attention passengers, due to a sick customer on the train (my train) we are being held in the station momentarily to assess the situation. Please be patient."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Do the conductors and train operators realise that asking a bunch of people who are already hot and bothered because mother nature has the thermostat set to HELL, to please be patient in a subway car that is toasty, or standing on a platform that is buring up, is something akin to asking a lion who has not eaten in days and comes across a gimp zebra NOT to eat it...ain't gonna happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;By this time I am annoyed because all that extra time I had built into my commute (I like to get into the city about 30 minutes early so I can get my mind right and knosh something before I start my day) is being eaten up. Futhermore, the train is getting ridiculously crowded, hotter, and we have been sitting in the station for a good 10 minutes. Also ALL those people from the 4 and 5 trains that are terminating at the Wall Street stop are trying to get on my train (because the laws of physics must not apply to them... simple bastards). Finally the conductor comes back over the PA system and delivers this gem:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Attention passengers, due to a sick customer this train is being taken out of service. All passengers must exit the train. THIS TRAIN IS NO LONGER IN SERVICE."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;FREAKIN' A!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Are you kidding me!?!?!?!? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Why do I have to get off the train? Why can't they take the sicko off the train? This makes absolutely NO SENSE to me. Futhermore, if the train has to go out of service why do it at a station that is already packed because everyone from two other train lines have been rerouted there. Would it have killed the freaking MTA to let the train go one more stop to Fulton Street where I could have at least transfered to another train line? Damnit give me something to work with!!! Give me something to hope for!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;ARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;So instead of being 30 minutes early for work, I get in 30 minutes late... and am greeted by retards (yes, yes I know I shouldn't call people that because as the "retarded" lady on the bus said to someone one day, (I kid you not) "I'm retarded not stupid"... but whatever) who ask me dumbass questions before I even get to my desk... DAMN IT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It's only Monday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-8101408380765034843?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/8101408380765034843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=8101408380765034843' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8101408380765034843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/8101408380765034843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/freakin-mta.html' title='Freakin MTA'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2775203007961671841</id><published>2008-07-18T15:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T17:04:08.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;Finally Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get out of the prison of the 9-5 and relax for the weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for small mercies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to hoping to avoid the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hot ghetto mess chicks/dudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. LOUD people. (do we not know the meaning of INSIDE VOICES?!?!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Bad behaved children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lecherous old men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Skanky old but think they are young women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Any other type of person that ticks me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the temperature goes higher, clothing disappears... my poor eyeballs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday...&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend (or at least try to).&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/7544190451237559696-2775203007961671841?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2775203007961671841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2775203007961671841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2775203007961671841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2775203007961671841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/finally-friday.html' title='Finally Friday'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1201193090765080861</id><published>2008-07-17T23:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T00:02:25.365-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I like'/><title type='text'>Today I am thankful that...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;1. I am alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. God grants me patience and shows me mercy on a daily basis (probably cause He knows that I would not be able to do jail time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have an interesting family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My midgets are hilarious!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have wonderful friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about you? What are you thankful for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1201193090765080861?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1201193090765080861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1201193090765080861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1201193090765080861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1201193090765080861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/today-i-am-thankful-that.html' title='Today I am thankful that...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3536450468641615415</id><published>2008-07-16T21:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T00:00:50.655-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Project Runway</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;... OF.THE.DEVIL ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so the new season of Project Runway started tonight. In fact it is on right now. I am watching it, and hating myself for doing so. Here is a sampling of things that I have yelled at my television so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Jesus wept... at my first glimpse of the contestants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Dear God why... at the abundance of flaming men (seriously do they have a quota or something?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Lord Jesus... at the chick who was in the produce section...WTFF are you doing!??!?! (side note: the judges liked this. obviously I have no understanding of fashion...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. oh Jesus...Jesus...Jesus... at whatever the hell that hot mess rainbow brite stripped leggings booty short combo thing that chick was wearing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. and finally (I YELLED this at the top of my lungs by the way) THE DEVIL IS A LIAR!!! ...at the season 1 guy... was that little boy blue that came across the street!?!?!?!? WTF children, WTFF was that?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate you Bravo network. I HATE YOU!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;{although I would like to say thank you to the judges for taking that Blayne dude (I HATE THAT NAME) down a peg}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am going to take a shower now... I feel dirty...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3536450468641615415?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3536450468641615415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3536450468641615415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3536450468641615415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3536450468641615415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/project-runway.html' title='Project Runway'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-1647190670640861901</id><published>2008-07-16T09:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T14:28:00.781-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Commuting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Rush Hour Children</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Have you ever had that moment where you consider going home, downing a bottle of 151, Jack, Johnnie, or something along those lines, then getting out your kitchen shears, a butcher knife, some twist ties, and tying your own tubes???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I did. Last night on the way home, and AGAIN this morning while commuting to work. Why? Because once again I found myself stuck in a sealed metal tube with Bebe's Kids...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Last night I had the pleasure of sharing my bus ride home with Sir Screams A-Lot. As the bus pulled up this loud screeching could be heard. I along with others waiting to get on kept looking around trying to trace its origin (in my case so I could run/limp screaming in the other direction). It was only as I got on the bus that I realised the noise was coming out of the body of a small child standing (not sitting.. STANDING) in the seat in front. Useless mom was sitting next to him basically being very ineffective at quieting his screaching, and what I assumed to be older sis was sitting in the next seat taunting him and screaching as well... I really thought about WALKING the rest of the way home (about 15-20 looonnnngggg blocks). It was only the fact that I was horrendously tired and in pain that held me back. So I put on my iPod and turned the volume all the way up and prayed for a swift ride home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This morning it was Little Esse-san [I love Katt Williams] on the train. HTF ("how" instead of "what") can you whine, fuss, kick, cry, etc. from Brooklyn, ALL THE WAY to Midtown Manhattan!?!?!?! I didn't know who I wanted to hurt more, the kid or again the useless and totally ineffective mom. Futher more why did the mom look, I don't know, scared of the child? Like she was loathe to say or do anything that would set the little pokeman spawn of satan off further!?!?! WTFF!!! So again I put my iPod on and blasted it (I will probably be hard of hearing in my old age).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;All I know is that if I had dared to behave in such a manner as a child my mother would have put a serious hurting on me because there was no way she was going to let me embarass her in public. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I am not looking forward to the commute home this evening. The urge to shove evil kids in front of buses, trains, or any vehicle with sufficient speed to render them moot grows stronger everyday... what to do...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-1647190670640861901?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/1647190670640861901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=1647190670640861901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1647190670640861901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/1647190670640861901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/rush-hour-children.html' title='Rush Hour Children'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3171251275303164528</id><published>2008-07-15T14:16:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T22:13:05.646-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Parades Are Evil</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It is 11:15 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I am sitting at my desk working and thinking about the nice walk I am going to take at lunch time, and then my email alert flashes on the screen. I go to my inbox to find this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From: xxxxxx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sent: Tuesday, July 15, 2008 11:24 AM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To: xxxxxxx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;URGENT - URGENT - URGENT Importance: High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have just been informed by NYPD that 40th Street and 41st Street will be closed between Broadway and 6th Avenue from 12:30 p.m. to 3 p.m.  If you leave this block, you will need I.D. showing you work in this building.  A SHORT NOTE ON YOUR LETTERHEAD STATING THAT YOUR EMPLOYEE WORKS AT THIS LOCATION MIGHT BE HELPFUL.&lt;br /&gt;IF YOU ARE EXPECTING VISITORS DURING THIS PERIOD, PLEASE INFORM THEM TO THE POSSIBILITY THEY MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO ENTER THIS BLOCK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;BULLOCKS!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Are you  freaking kidding me!!!! That's just great. So now instead of being able to go and enjoy my one hour of time off for good behaviour I have to dodge all the crackheads out there trying to catch the parade, all the news people reporting on the parade, and the NYPD brass band (damn near got taken out by mister tuba man who was too busy looking at everything else EXCEPT for where he was walking)... AND if I leave the block I have to be prepared to convince the PoPo that I actually work in a building on the block before they will let me back on?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTFF!?!?!?!? (remember the first "F" stands for flying) I got to prove that I want to go to work.. are you freaking kidding me? Bite me butt munch!!! This is why I hate parades. This is why they are evil. They are great only for the people who are actually IN the parade.The people who get to ride in the comfy cars and relax themselves. The rest of us just get screwed over in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and to top it off I REALLY had a crave for some McCracky's fries (don't act like you don't know what I mean) but of course that would have meant leaving the block and having to possibly deal with Sgt. Power Trip on the way back so I chose to forgo that and get a freaking salad... grrr.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3171251275303164528?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3171251275303164528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3171251275303164528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3171251275303164528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3171251275303164528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/parades-are-evil.html' title='Parades Are Evil'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-3729293554761629298</id><published>2008-07-14T16:34:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T22:36:40.794-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Bra Etiquette</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;OK. Let's be 1,000,000,000%  clear about something:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;WEARING A BRA IS NOT AN OPTION IT IS A REQUIREMENT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My poor eyes were assaulted at every turn each time I stepped out of my office today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The volume of females I saw today with unsupported boobs down to their knees or swinging in the breeze was unnecessary. While it may not look as though there are two honeydews strapped to my chest [obscure shout out to one of my fave Designing Women episodes] God was gracious enough to grant me a decent upper body. As such I am totally mystified at how anyone with more than an A cup can comfortably go about without having the girls (or twins as I call my own... hey guys can and do name their stuff so it is only fair that we get to do the same) properly supported. The gum drop invasion (let it sink in you will get it eventually) that attacked me repeatedly  today made no sense to me. In this day and age where you can get a bra in just about any shape, size, style, or color, how can females justify going out without a bra? Saying that they could not find one to go with whatever top they were wearing is a lie from the pit of Hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was most troubling though was that the majority of the incidents took place in Midtown where I work. That begs the question; where do these females work? Harry's House of Ho's? In what place of business, lingerie business and the like excluded, is it acceptable to come to work with all of your goodies on display? These were not even young females I was seeing, but grown behind females. People who should know better. Part of me seriously wonders if it was a deliberate action on their part. Given the frigid nature of the NYC Public Transportation System it is a given that if you go without a bra you will be outed as it were. So did they deliberately leave the house this morning without a bra in an effort to attract attention? On that score it worked, but maybe not entirely in the way that they imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bra etiquette has died a horrible death and I blame all the zealous feminists of yesteryear and their bra burning fetish. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! So to counteract the damage done by past idiocy I now propose the following set of guidelines for those who may be unsure of when it is or is not proper to forgo wearing a bra:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;1. Unless you are wearing a strapless dress or item that has a full/proper coverage bra [no visible gum drops] already sewn into the top: YOU NEED A BRA!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;2. If your cup size is anything above the letter A: YOU NEED A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you are wearing a tank top or any variation on the style: YOU NEED A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you have had children: YOU NEED A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If your bra size is preceded by double, triple, or anything higher: YOU DEFINITELY NEED A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If you are  incubating a small being:  YOU NEED A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If you are a lady: this doesn't apply to you because you already know how to dress yourself properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. If you are wearing a light, white, see through, mesh, or crocheted top: PLEASE WEAR A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, once you hit puberty and develop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mammarific&lt;/span&gt; (yep I made that up) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;protrusions&lt;/span&gt;... whenever you leave your house...YOU NEED TO WEAR A BRA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-3729293554761629298?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/3729293554761629298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=3729293554761629298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3729293554761629298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/3729293554761629298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/bra-etiquette.html' title='Bra Etiquette'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-6962401548883544385</id><published>2008-07-14T11:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T12:01:13.628-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Church Folk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Let me preface this post by saying that I realize that "religion" is a hot button and sensitive issue for many people... I just happen to not care and will proceed anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I CANNOT STAND "church folk"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I absolutely, with every fiber of my being, am upset by their existence in my reality. They are of the devil and need to go the way of the dodo (is that the correct spelling?) bird, or death row inmates in Texas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;By now some of you may wonder what I mean when I say "church folk". Those of you who are reading this and are regular Sunday worshipers will readily identify with this type of person and can probably name at least two or three of them in your own congregation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Church Folk" refers to the class of people who come to church not to worship and spend time in the presence of the Lord, but rather to put on a show for all to see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Examples of common (in my sphere of experience) "church folk" characters include but are not limited to the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1. that person who sits up front EVERY Sunday and proceeds to try shout over whomever may be preaching, singing a song, or basically talking in anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2. that person who feels it is their sole mission in life to "help" every person pray through their situation by grabbing them and proceeding to shout right in their ear as they are trying to worship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3. that person who whenever "caught in the spirit" (usually every Sunday without fail during the song right as the minister comes to the pulpit) feels the need to do laps around the sanctuary/and or altar area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;4. that person who must make a noise to accompany every word out of the mouth of the speaker (see &lt;em&gt;internal dialogue) &lt;/em&gt;by means of shouting, clapping, stomping, incessant tambourine banging (to the point of breakage at times), or baning on the drum set (with or without actual drum sticks).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;5. that person that "catches the spirit" every Sunday (again usually during the song right as the minister comes to the pulpit) and proceeds to try knock over the pews, and or take out anyone in the immediate vicinity with their fists of fury (this can actually be rather entertaining at times to tell the truth).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;6. that person who whenever there is testimony service gets up and proceeds to sing the 7 stanza song complete with full chorus and then give a 20 minute sermon on the goodness of the Lord and ends with the phrase "continue to pray my strength in the Lord." (the way I see it, if you can sing all that and then continue to talk, strength is really not an issue for you now is it?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;{Internal Dialogue}&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!! I swear on all that I hold dear this is the most mind numbing, cringe inducing, violent incident causing behavior on a Sunday. The Bible does say to make a joyful noise unto the Lord, but that is not joyful, not by any stretch of the imagination. Why must you do that?!?!?!  I mean come on, why does the sermon need a sound track or a back beat? Tito Puente you are not !!! What did that tambourine do to you that you had to repeatedly hit it so hard that the whole inside piece busted and parts were flying off hitting unsuspecting worshipers all in the eye and what not? And the drums?!?!?!!? You are NOT EVEN A MUSICIAN!!! WTF is the thought process behind banging on the drums (not actually playing because you don't actually know how to..)? And not in a gentle manner... oh no not that, but rather like the drums are a rude child that did something wrong and you are trying to beat the (insert appropriate color reference) off them. AND when the drum sticks are removed instead of taking the hint and stopping you proceed to bang the drums WITH YOUR HANDS ...WTFF (first "F" stands for flying) IS WRONG WITH YOU!??!?!?!?!?!?! That is not cool at all. Yes music is an integral part of praise and worship and the service at large, but did we leave common sense at the altar along with our burdens and troubles?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"Church folk" are becoming an epidemic, and something needs to be done to stop the spread of their madness. Let the revolution begin! Who is with me?!?!?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-6962401548883544385?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/6962401548883544385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=6962401548883544385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6962401548883544385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/6962401548883544385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/church-folk.html' title='Church Folk'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-7730164966832346759</id><published>2008-07-12T23:21:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T00:48:32.137-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mars'/><title type='text'>and Gentlemen...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Man: Hello Miss&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Yo shawty!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: You look lovely today&lt;br /&gt;Dude: DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: (to a friend) She looks nice&lt;br /&gt;Dude: (to his boy) I'd hit dat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: May I speak to you for a moment?&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Lemme holla atchu fu a minute!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: May I take you out for a cup of coffee sometime?&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Lemme take u back tah duh crib!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: Would it be alright if I called you some time?&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Shawty lemme get dem digits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: (in response to a lady* saying no thank you to something) Ok.&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Why u gotta play a brotha like dat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: neat slacks (or jeans), nice shirt, a jacket if needed and outfit appropriate shoes, all in the correct size&lt;br /&gt;Dude: saggin' jeans (see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;internal dialogue&lt;/span&gt;) tee shirt and tennis shoes, all in sizes too large&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did things get this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where have all the gentlemen gone? What happened to the days when men were men and carried themselves with dignity and class? The days when men stood up and handled their business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At every turn all I can see are dudes, no men, just dudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we remember the Salt n' Pepa song Whatta Man??? "A body like Arnold with a Denzel face? He always has heavy conversation for the mind? Never disrespectful cause his momma taught him that? He's not a fake wannabe tryin to be a pimp, he dresses like a  dapper don, but even in jeans he's a God sent original...?"  What a man that would be, if one could be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;{Internal Dialogue}&lt;br /&gt;Crack is whack like Whitney said. If I have to see one more cartoon covered behind as I am out on the street I don't know what I am going to do. Why oh why has this become such a hot trend? How is wearing your pants so low down that you have to waddle like a gimpy duck in any way cool looking? Do they not have a mirror at home to see how stupid this style looks? Again, underwear is meant to be worn underneath your clothing. There is no reason for me to know that today you decided to wear your Daffy Duck boxers, or God forbid the perpetrator is wearing tidy whities at the time. I mean do these guys even know the origin of what that style comes from? Or wait, do they even care? I don't know. I just shake my head at the whole situation. My cousin sent me an email that made a good point; the word saggin written backwards... NIGGAS, and to me that is just how I see dudes who subscribe to that fashion trend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So that begs the question, how did males go from men to dudes? What precipitated that change, and more importantly how do we reverse it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;**please refer to the prior post entitled "Ladies"**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-7730164966832346759?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/7730164966832346759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=7730164966832346759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7730164966832346759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/7730164966832346759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-gentlemen.html' title='and Gentlemen...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5439521758327017225</id><published>2008-07-11T17:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T19:31:55.581-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Commuting'/><title type='text'>Stupid Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;To the stupid head that almost destroyed my left mammary with their ginormous (has that been added to the dictionary as a word yet? It needs to be) back pack I would like to say the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever see you again I will jam the heel of my 4 inch gold stiletto right into your jugular and watch you writhe in pain at my feet as you bleed to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5439521758327017225?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5439521758327017225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5439521758327017225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5439521758327017225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5439521758327017225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/stupid-head.html' title='Stupid Head'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-2939049617900457761</id><published>2008-07-11T11:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T16:12:23.260-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Venus'/><title type='text'>Ladies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"She's A Lady" – Tom Jones&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well she's all you'd ever want,She's the kind they'd like to flaunt and take to dinner.Well she always knows her place.She's got style, she's got grace, She's a winner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;She's a Lady. Whoa whoa whoa, She's a Lady.Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well she's never in the wayAlways something nice to say, Oh what a blessing.I can leave her on her ownKnowing she's okay alone, and there's no messing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;She's a lady. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She's a lady.Talkin' about that little lady, and the lady is mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well she never asks for very much and I don't refuse her.Always treat her with respect, I never would abuse her.What she's got is hard to find, and I don't want to lose herHelp me build a mountain from my little pile of clay. Hey, hey, hey.Well she knows what I'm about,She can take what I dish out, and that's not easy,Well she knows me through and through,She knows just what to do, and how to please me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As I sat on the train on my way into the city this morning my mind turned to this song, and I thought to myself; &lt;em&gt;“you know Tom would have a hard time singing that song in this day and age”&lt;/em&gt; because there are not that many women who can be called a “lady” in the true sense (meaning my definition) of the word. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the day a woman was a lady. A lady did not step out of the house unless she had herself looking correct. Her hair was coiffed, her face could stop traffic (as in wow there is a nice looking lady, not OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT!!!) with or without makeup, and her clothes accentuated her body and left a man* to wonder at and appreciate what she had going on. She would glide with effortless grace, head high and posture erect. Men* would pass and tip their hats to which she would reply with a reciprocal nod or a cordial greeting. Her voice was gentle and her speech eloquent. Her worth was known to her, and she carried herself with dignity accordingly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this day and age a woman is… I do not even know what to call them. Yes I said them. I am a lady. I do not know what those other people are. They will step out of the house looking any old kind of way. Their hair is more often than not still in rollers, wrapped with hairpins, or tied up in a scarf [this is ONLY acceptable if you are just coming from getting it done]. Their face speeds up traffic because, dang did they even wash it before they left out? Their clothes…(see &lt;em&gt;internal dialogue&lt;/em&gt;). The words “grace” and “posture” have been banished from their collective conscience. Men* pass, and keep on moving. Their voice is shrill and their speech abrasive. Their worth is believed to be far below what it actually is and they lower themselves accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;{Internal Dialogue}&lt;br /&gt;I am truly dumbfounded but what I see around me. When did it become acceptable to stuff an acre of body into a half yard of clothe? As a female I cringe on a daily basis as I see the over abundance of flesh around me. Hemlines seem to get shorter possibly in an attempt to meet the slowly dropping waistline. [let me take this moment to state for the record that low waist pants are OF THE DEVIL and I would really like to drop kick the idiot that thought it would be a good idea] Shirt hemlines however, seem to have an aversion to being near pant or skirt waistlines and have been beating a steady retreat north. Cloth sizes seem to be shrinking, either that or women are just in a perpetual state of denial about what their REAL size is. I mean if the garment makes it look like you are walking on two logs of cottage cheese and not legs, well then it is TOO TIGHT! That mess in NOT cute in any way, shape or form. Women need to stop going in the juniors section (which should be called the mini stripper uniform section cause have you seen what they have for little girls to wear these days?!?!? Booty shorts!!! On a 5 year old!!! B-O-O-T-Y shorts!!?!?!?!WTF!!! I digress, where was I, oh yes…) for their clothes. Age and gravity are real. You got older, stuff spread out, dress your age please. And I am tired of seeing people in the grocery, laundry, bank, etc in their pajamas. Sweats are acceptable, Care Bears are not. Does it really take that long to put on proper attire and fix your face (as my mommy says) before you step outside? Furthermore, underwear is called UNDER wear for a reason. It is thus named because it is to be worn underneath your clothing not AS clothing. I simply cannot understand this tendency to come out with drawers on as top clothes. Call me old fashioned, call me a prude, call me whatever you want, but I still think the only person(s) that should know what my underwear look like are the sales lady at Victoria’s Secret, God, and the man* I marry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a return of the “lady”. I want to be able to get on the bus, train, or just walk down the street without having to avert my eyes because chick in front of me is not wearing clothes and all her business is out. I want to go to the store and spend hours there because I want to, not because that is how long it takes to find something that fits, is tasteful, and makes me look good, not cheap or easy. I want to be able to walk down the street without some dude (notice I did not say a man or men) calling out something rude and whistling at me and thinking I will actually acknowledge them because chick in front of me did, then get pissed when I don’t. I want to see women stop settling for the worst because that is what they believe they are worthy of. I want to see women take pride in themselves and do things to lift themselves to a higher standard, not lower themselves to someone else’s. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short I want a return of old school taste and class, and self respect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that asking too much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*I use the term man, or men to signify real gentlemen with class, dignity, and manners. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-2939049617900457761?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/2939049617900457761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=2939049617900457761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2939049617900457761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/2939049617900457761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/ladies.html' title='Ladies...'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544190451237559696.post-5296302764578788607</id><published>2008-07-10T20:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T23:20:52.888-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff I don&apos;t like'/><title type='text'>Gratuitous Kindness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do you know how annoying it is to feel as though you constantly have to repeat yourself to people because they just do not listen? People who always want to be nice or do things for you as an act of gratuitous kindness. Who just cannot take no for an answer, and cannot believe that you are on to their schemes. How many ways can you say the word NO? (&lt;i&gt;please do not feel the need to be a(n) (insert appropriate insulting adjective here) ass at this point and start pointing out the ways to say NO in different languages).&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Further more, how can that be misinterpreted or how can there still be hope for a change? COME ON!!! Like Charlie Brown says; “GOOD GRIEF!!!” It makes me just want to scream to the top of my lungs, LEAVE ME ALONE!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you feel a compelling urge to be nice to someone, or do something for them, well then good for you. Aren’t you just special? (&lt;i&gt;insert sarcastic rolling of eyes here&lt;/i&gt;), However it should be noted that there are some ground rules (based primarily on a rudimentary understanding of common sense principles) that need to be applied.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 99pt; text-indent: -27pt;"&gt;        A quid pro quo (what for what) attitude IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!!!!!. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How many times has someone done (what you thought) was a nice thing for you, and just as you open your mouth to utter a heartfelt thank you they toss out the smarmy used car salesman image inducing “now remember what I did for you … doesn’t it show how I care … you should care the same way too” line, or something in a similar vein.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 99pt; text-indent: -27pt;"&gt;          Blowing your own horn basically makes you look like a self-serving butt munch, or a pimp+, either prospect is not as Martha would say “a good thing”.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know that person who makes the big donation to the (insert charitable or well deserving group or person here)…but calls a press conference or puts a full page ad in a paper to announce it… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 99pt; text-indent: -27pt;"&gt;           No backsies&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know what I mean. No other example need be given.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you can’t do something nice out of the genuine kindness of your heart, possibly due to the fact that instead of a heart you have a black hole, but that is another rant, then do us all a favor and save it. Gratuitous kindness is pointless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;+ exceptions: Snoop, Katt, or a Pimp Named Slick Back&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7544190451237559696-5296302764578788607?l=ranting-auntie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/feeds/5296302764578788607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7544190451237559696&amp;postID=5296302764578788607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5296302764578788607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7544190451237559696/posts/default/5296302764578788607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ranting-auntie.blogspot.com/2008/07/gratuitous-kindness.html' title='Gratuitous Kindness'/><author><name>The Ranting Auntie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02037683456935446186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WfCuItgc-R0/SJCCNmUUqII/AAAAAAAAACQ/8-jLdiKNS6Y/S220/Flaming_Sword.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
