<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517</id><updated>2009-11-16T12:35:20.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fascinating Real-Life Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>Random Miscellany</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12851966291796332780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-3677772831336159082</id><published>2008-09-08T23:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:48:12.414-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Surprising things you never expect to hear...</title><content type='html'>I was explaining to my girlfriend the addiction that is World of Warcraft, when out of the blue, she goes quite geek-y on me, and refers to NPCs, and RPGs, amongst other wonderfully geek-only terms...  It's almost like... if you're cooking something, a very delicate recipe, when you realize you are missing one key ingredient... then your girlfriend walks in and hands you exactly the thing you need to make the recipe a success...  it's like that, only, nerd-ier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell ya... when your girlfriend pulls something like that.... you realize how incredibly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hot&lt;/span&gt; geek girls are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not ashamed.  It's the computer age - nerds are in!.........  They're still in, right??"&lt;br /&gt;                               -Willow; Buffy the Vampire Slayer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-3677772831336159082?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/3677772831336159082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=3677772831336159082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/3677772831336159082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/3677772831336159082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/09/surprising-things-you-never-expect-to.html' title='Surprising things you never expect to hear...'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-3111910446532443641</id><published>2008-08-23T15:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:36:41.590-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Lunch</title><content type='html'>So I am right now having lunch with my amazing girlfriend, and then she is taking me on a date!! &lt;p&gt;Very, very happy right now!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-3111910446532443641?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/3111910446532443641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=3111910446532443641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/3111910446532443641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/3111910446532443641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/08/lunch.html' title='Lunch'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-221650733403378953</id><published>2008-07-28T00:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:36:26.144-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Whiplash!  I'm suing!</title><content type='html'>Willow, the car, was taking me downtown to rehearsal the other day.  I was at a stop light, when some very friendly person decided they didn't like the shape of my bumper and felt the necessity to adjust it by using the fender of their own car.  In other words, I was rear-ended.  The car shuddered - I could feel her rolling her headlights; I groaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove through the light and pulled over to inspect for damage... expecting a dent, a crunch, a scrape, etc...  Nothing!  Only a few scratches in the clear coat - which are easily buffed out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the business of dealing with Mr. "On his cellphone, not paying attention"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled up behind me in his gold Chrysler 300.  The door opened, and I saw a bare foot egress from the drivers side.  This bare foot was followed by a bare leg.  Followed by a bare chest... Thankfully this man did remember to put on underwear before leaving the house...  Yes, just that one stitch of clothing was all that separated him from indecent exposure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know the state I live in gets rather hot during the summer, but.. going for a drive in your fruit of the looms?!  What was this guy thinking?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the slightest of moments I thought I'd fallen victim to one of those "hidden camera" shows, and looked around - which was helpful, it allowed me to disguise a snicker.  When I couldn't spot a camera or film crew, I reckoned this must be one of those fascinating real-life stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-221650733403378953?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/221650733403378953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=221650733403378953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/221650733403378953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/221650733403378953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/07/whiplash-im-suing.html' title='Whiplash!  I&apos;m suing!'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-116246186886661521</id><published>2008-07-23T10:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:36:15.634-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girlfriend'/><title type='text'>The good things about having a girlfriend</title><content type='html'>Normally, I wouldn't post something so personal, however... this just makes me too happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see: thanks to the efforts of several people, a wonderful girl and I are dating...  And there are little things she does that make me wanna do one of those "jump up, punch your fist in the air and yell YES!!!" kind of moments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like when my girlfriend stretches her legs across my lap - like on a couch or somewhere..&lt;br /&gt;It's a nice way of letting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; know she likes me, while saying to others: "hands off, he's mine".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like when she txts me with "hey you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like when she wears dresses, because she looks incredible in them (and she's got killer legs!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like hearing her sing, because her voice makes me melt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And... I like how she smiles a little bit when we kiss.&lt;br /&gt;She gets major points in the 'adorable' category for that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, I know, I'm getting mushy and sappy. Well - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you would too if your girlfriend was this awesome&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-116246186886661521?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/116246186886661521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=116246186886661521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/116246186886661521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/116246186886661521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-things-about-having-girlfriend.html' title='The good things about having a girlfriend'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-981077718568919562</id><published>2008-08-19T23:36:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:36:15.633-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girlfriend'/><title type='text'>Another good thing</title><content type='html'>about having a girlfriend... well - this particular girl - she says the sweetest things at the most perfect moments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I love her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-981077718568919562?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/981077718568919562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=981077718568919562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/981077718568919562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/981077718568919562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/08/another-good-thing.html' title='Another good thing'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-688414913423511206</id><published>2008-08-29T16:59:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:36:02.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girlfriend'/><title type='text'>The bad things about having a girlfriend</title><content type='html'>1) I miss her when she's not around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) She thinks I'm kinda boring...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one I can deal with - gotta fix that second one, though...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-688414913423511206?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/688414913423511206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=688414913423511206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/688414913423511206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/688414913423511206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/08/disadvantages-of-having-girlfriend.html' title='The bad things about having a girlfriend'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-9006979981042110217</id><published>2008-07-02T16:20:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T04:53:23.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Let's Go Shopping!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So last night I was doing the usual grocery shopping, and I kept seeing products that looked just... well, "not right" is the term I'd use.  Whether due to product packaging, naming or something else entirely.  So, I thought I'd take you to the grocery store and show you some of the products that you, too, can enrich your home life with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631764911/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3095/2631764911_5a780983c2_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Since when do people shave turkeys?  This is something I have no need or want to see.  Shaving should be restricted to various hairy parts of the human body, not turkeys.  I just imagine some poor butcher lathering up the turkey with Barbasol and pulling out a disposable razor for each package of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631766641/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3191/2631766641_496c7b8c73_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Baby Wipes....for dogs?  Now that really is pampering your pet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632593150/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3185/2632593150_1a996d03df_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I told my mother cookies were for breakfast, but she always had some smarmy argument against it - now who's right, ma?  Huh?? huh??  You and your orange juice and oatmeal...  COOKIES, I say - and I have the Quaker Oats company to back me up! (along with probably every kid in the known world)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631769439/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3269/2631769439_35f3a8c8ef_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well.  What can I say.  If you eat this, there's probably a reason YOU are single.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, what, the tin of SPAM was too difficult to open or slice?  SPAM &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Singles&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632596244/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3173/2632596244_fcaf29f3a9_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The words "Pickle Pak"..... do not belong either A) together or B) on any product packaging ever.&lt;br /&gt;I think the same goes for "Sweet Petites", also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632594942/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3140/2632594942_8ece08b933_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What could be better than Hot Dog &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sauce&lt;/span&gt;?  In my family, it's called "Ketchup" or "Mustard", "relish" if you're so inclined on a hot day, maybe some onions if you want, or, hey, even chili.  Oh.. Wait.. the picture on the can.......is chili....  So.....then....what's in the can??  What sort of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sauce&lt;/span&gt; is this, exactly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631773167/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2631773167_eb94de36bc_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Okay, okay...  wait a minute.  Beaver brand Hot Cream... no, I'm not even finishing it...  I can't even...  No...  No...  I don't want to know...  just... let's move on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631774105/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3081/2631774105_e39f5bffa5_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, as the package says - you can only have this twice a day - I'd avoid it in the PM though, as it might keep you awake - but hey - if you're awake all night anyway, may as well have another cup at Eight O'Clock in the morning!  If only everything was labled with such helpful directions.  Eight O'Clock Coffee, Eleven O'Clock Lunch... Two-Thirty Headache Medicine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632599704/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3272/2632599704_730c715844_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;William Makepeace Thackeray would be rolling in his grave to know that his great novel had been turned into a bunch of paper napkins.  But I do suppose these would have been used at Miss Pinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies.  Either that or their sleeves - you know they wore those long dresses back then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632600488/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3047/2632600488_1c8f233111_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Doritos 'The Quest' potato chips.  At least I think they're potato - evidentally you're supposed to guess what flavor they are.  Call me old fashioned, but I prefer &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; guessing what the food I'm eating is supposed to taste like!  I like to be told in advance, that way I can further savor the deliciousness that is its flavor.  Leave me to my own devices I'd come up with flavors like "shag carpet" or "rabid squirrel".  And since we're on the topic - how come there have never been any fruit-punch flavored potato chips?  Frito-Lay: get on that one, will ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631777017/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3149/2631777017_c1b0d2fd8c_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ooh, yummy!!! Ice cream cones made out of CAKE!!  How awesome would that be?!?!  Sadly, this is false advertising - the cones weren't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; made out of cake...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631777871/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3041/2631777871_b0c67d5f67_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What's that?  You want to "Go Lean"?  Then avoid the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PANCAKES&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632603732/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3181/2632603732_a1f85ca338_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;See, see, you didn't believe me before - baby wipes for your dog - but here, clearly, is another package of baby wipes, with a dog on the package!!  Apparently babies don't photograph.  Like vampires and mirrors, you know, that sorta thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2632604676/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3257/2632604676_2cec7c831d_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ahh, the cool refreshing taste of golf legend Arnold Palmer.  I don't care to discover what he tastes like, thankyouverymuch.  I am sort of curious how they got him in the juicer, though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28201770@N02/2631781153/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3079/2631781153_e9b09d876e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Another sauce - this time, for that special Jerk in your life.  Or maybe this is what they drink to get that way.  Who knows - all I know is, the ice cream I bought is melting, so it's time to go home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-9006979981042110217?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/9006979981042110217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=9006979981042110217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/9006979981042110217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/9006979981042110217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/07/let-go-shopping.html' title='Let&apos;s Go Shopping!'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-1494378119695871405</id><published>2008-07-01T00:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:18:38.504-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Something very important...</title><content type='html'>You and I have to have a talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's important. Very important. I've been losing sleep over this, and you just need to hear me out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have rules, you know. Boundaries. Sometimes I can let things slide, and be okay with the way things turn out, but... but you just have to know there is one rule that... well, I feel I need to explain it so you'll really understand...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was about... 7. I've had a sort of credo; an instant deal-breaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard things do not belong in soft things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has, somewhat delicately (and sometimes quite hysterically), been put to me that there are exceptions to that rule. Well, because I uttered this rule out loud today and found myself having to explain it, I feel I should share it with you, so we can avoid any nasty bumps in our relationship. If you've ever read my previous blogs, you may enjoy reading this again. If you haven't, you'll enjoy reading it again next time. (and Yes, M, I am going to repost the other one, too...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number one:&lt;br /&gt;No nuts in cake. No - period. There is no need to put nuts in cake. The sensation of biting something hard while enjoying the moist, velvety cake-ness, is not something you should have to endure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number two:&lt;br /&gt;No nuts on cake. Please do not ruin the deliciousness of a cake by standing shaved almonds into the whipped curls of frosting. Arranging whole walnuts into "Happy Retirement Bob!" makes the required office party all the more boring. Smooshing chopped nuts into the side of a cake (which gives it that Martha Stewart Driveway Gravel-look) ruins an altogether delictable portion of frosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule the Third:&lt;br /&gt;No nuts in brownies. How many times... How many... will I see a brownie listed on a menu, or gaze longingly at the plate of brownies at the dessert counter, carefully inspecting them for any visual sign of nuts, and following up this detailed examination with a simply worded "Do the brownies have nuts?" to the counter staff, only to be told "no", and then find out that I've just bought a fucking nut brownie?!?!?! Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rule Four:&lt;br /&gt;No nuts in bread. Admittedly the only offender I have encountered in this category is banana bread. But you see - bananas are soft, like bread, so they are compatible. If you add nuts to banana bread, you may as well go find a clown and make them cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numero Five:&lt;br /&gt;No nuts in ice cream. In fact, I will go further: Anything that is harder than Ice Cream should not be enshrined within the soft, milk and soy lectithin goodness that is Haagen-Daas. The exception to this particular rule is: anything that, by being placed into the ice cream, is caused to soften to a chewy consistency - cookie bits, for example. Cheesecake chunks. Fudge swirls. Those are all within an acceptable +/- 3 "range of softness" and can be included and enjoyed without hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuh-huh-humber six:&lt;br /&gt;Nuts on ice cream. When you order a sundae, with nuts, generally they are sprinkled on top of a layer of whipped cream. Technically, this is not directly in contact with the ice cream, therefore the rule can be overlooked. "But what about whipped cream - it's softer than ice cream", I hear you cry. Well, cry all you like, but no one eats a dish of whipped cream with nuts in it - your logic does not apply! As Adam Savage of Mythbusters would say: "I reject your reality and substitute my own!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addendum:&lt;br /&gt;Now I know you are asking yourself: What about Pie?&lt;br /&gt;Well, the types of pie I eat (cherry, apple, lemon meringue, boston cream, etc.) are by their nature, nut-less. They do not present any nut-specific worries for me to trouble myself over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about all I have to say on the matter... I hope we can still be friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-1494378119695871405?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/1494378119695871405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=1494378119695871405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/1494378119695871405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/1494378119695871405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/07/something-very-important.html' title='Something very important...'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4618802477952722517.post-4759954146907721854</id><published>2008-07-02T00:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T00:36:07.657-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I kind of like that...</title><content type='html'>I once heard about a hair cutter (hair styilist, barber, beautician, hair technician, hairdresser, hair sculptor, hair artist, coiffure mangler, etc., and so on...) who cut hair with a piece of sharpened glass. Not just any old scrap of broken glass lying around, no, no: a specially designed scythe of glass, expertly honed to a razor-sharp edge by a leading glass manufacturing firm. Best of all, you could go to sleep and wake up and shake your hair into place, with no product needed! At only 5 or 6 hundred dollars, I reason to myself, why isn't there one of these artiste' types in every town?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been seeing the same hair designer (yes, that is her title) for a little more than six months now. I can honestly say, without any shred of doubt or pause for thought, she has given me the best, easiest-to-manage, and (when I'm not on stage wearing it a different way for a role, or indeed when I actually bother to put product in it) the cutest haircut ever. I've sent others to her based on the greatness of this cut, and the fact she only charges $32, makes me very happy. Before I had the good fortune to book her, I bounced around from one hair establishment to the next, having to "train" the folks about how my hair works, invariably to walk out with a cut that was less than flattering (either to my face or my wallet!). I've even gone so far as to book a separate appointment, at another salon (on the same day!) to fix a bad haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been cursed with curly/wavy hair that likes to live by its own rules and schedule, so apart from a bit of coercion in the morning I don't give my hair much thought. Thankfully, due to my wonderful hair designer's talent, I can wear it in several completely different styles, depending on how much it feels like fighting me each morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several weeks ago, I walked into my drama class sporting a style I haven't worn for about 4 or 5 years... I call it the "Seth Green"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://content.alternativenation.net/gallery/files/5/0/0/6/5006-seth.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was during the ensuing commenting and complimenting that I heard what was the most outrageous compliment - that my hair had its own sound effect. A sound which cannot be reproduced accurately in text, but if you imagine something crinkly (not paper, but plastic-y, like shrink-wrap, maybe?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair has its own sound effect. I kinda like that. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4618802477952722517-4759954146907721854?l=electricmetaphor.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/feeds/4759954146907721854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4618802477952722517&amp;postID=4759954146907721854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/4759954146907721854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4618802477952722517/posts/default/4759954146907721854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://electricmetaphor.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-kind-of-like-that.html' title='I kind of like that...'/><author><name>Brian</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>