<?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-23640162</id><updated>2012-01-30T19:09:51.409-05:00</updated><category term='buddha'/><category term='wisdom'/><title type='text'>Mon Vie</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;center&gt;Be who you are and say what you feel.&lt;br&gt; 
Those who mind, don't matter,&lt;br&gt; 
and those that matter, don't mind.&lt;br&gt; 
~Dr. Seuss&lt;/center&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-116758093751808660</id><published>2006-12-31T10:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T23:50:51.423-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buddha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wisdom'/><title type='text'>Words of Wisdom, from Buddha himself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7053/2432/1600/256878/Smile03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7053/2432/320/150613/Smile03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing ever exists entirely alone; everything is in relation to everything else."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every human being is the author of his own disease."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are what we think."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let us be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die. So, let us all be thankful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23640162-116758093751808660?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/116758093751808660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=116758093751808660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/116758093751808660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/116758093751808660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/12/words-of-wisdom-from-buddah-himself.html' title='Words of Wisdom, from Buddha himself'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-116287397393663942</id><published>2006-11-06T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T23:32:53.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.savagechickens.com/images/chickenhateyou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.savagechickens.com/images/chickenhateyou.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23640162-116287397393663942?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/116287397393663942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=116287397393663942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/116287397393663942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/116287397393663942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-hate-you.html' title='I hate you'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-115112121916653742</id><published>2006-06-23T23:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T23:53:39.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Peter is sad.</title><content type='html'>I just came home from going to work, and then hanging out with a couple of friends to find out some very bad news. My dog died today. It's almost a good thing though. He was old. 16. We were gonna have to put him down if he didn't' get better. I'm just glad we didn't have to. But I'm gonna miss him. Too much for words. He was like one of the family. :'-( We've had him since I was around 7 years old. I want to cry, but I can't. It's like I've forgotten how, after all the years of holding it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All dogs go to heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23640162-115112121916653742?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/115112121916653742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=115112121916653742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/115112121916653742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/115112121916653742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/06/peter-is-sad.html' title='Peter is sad.'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-115017173853457193</id><published>2006-06-12T23:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T00:08:58.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>REALLY short story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So, for my creative writing class, I had to write a short story. It's a lot shorter than I expected, but whatever. Here it is, I'm posting this before I even read it to my class. Let me know what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;        Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; sat down in her favorite chair, breathing a sigh of relief. Everything went so well.&lt;br /&gt;        The table was set, the candles were lit, and Vivaldi was playing quietly in the background. Dinner was just about ready; London broil, mashed potatoes with roasted garlic and goat cheese, and steamed green beans; his favorite. She even went through the trouble of putting the wine into a decanter. It was a 1995 Cabernet Sauvignon, the one she had been saving for just such an occasion. That was the easy part.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;    Anxious for Mark to come home from work, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; kept peering out the window. Just as she saw his car pulling up the drive-way, she untied her aprons strings and ran to the front door. As soon as he came in, she gave him a big hug and a kiss on the lips.&lt;br /&gt;        “What’s that for?” he asked bewildered.&lt;br /&gt;        “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I love you.” She replied. “Come into the dining room, I have something for you.”&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        Mark was in awe of the feast set before him. The smell of dinner cooked to perfection made his mouth water in anticipation. As they sat down and began to eat, he wondered why his wife went through all the trouble to make his favorite meal. He knew it wasn’t their anniversary; that was one thing he prided himself on, knowing all the important dates.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;“Where’d you get this recipe for the London Broil? It’s perfect.”&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        "You should recognize it; it’s your mother’s. I called her today.”&lt;br /&gt;        “You called my mother?” Mark asked with a mouth half full of food. “But I thought you hated her.”&lt;br /&gt;        “Whatever gave you that impression?” &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; asked innocently.&lt;br /&gt;        “I dunno it just seems like you don’t get along with her.”&lt;br /&gt;        “Don’t  be so ignorant Mark, it’s not becoming of you.”  &lt;div style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;        Noticing the increased hostility, Mark decided to change the subject, “So, why’d you go through all the trouble of making such a wonderful dinner?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" id="contentbuttonbarbottom" class="contentbuttonbar"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;    “I just wanted to surprise you. You’ve been so busy at work lately, staying extra hours. Even going in on the weekends. I just thought you needed it. Anyways, I wanted to show my love for you.”&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;    But the truth was she didn’t love him anymore. In fact, she was quite angry with him. The first time, when she found out what he did with his secretary, she forgave him. They were still young, still so naïve. Even the second time, when he said he was going on a business trip. She found out it was a lot more than just business. But this time, this time he had gone too far. Her sister. Her own sister. How could he go so low?&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    “Well, thank you. Thank you so much. It’s quite the pleasant surprise.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;        “No need to thank me,” said &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; putting on her best girlish charm, “it was nothing.”&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; kept quiet most of the dinner. She was thinking about her sister. Her sister that was only 18 and just out of high-school. Her sister that was still so young, so innocent. Her only sister. &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; had looked out for her sister, ever  since she was born. Being 10 years older, she felt obligated to. She &lt;i style=""&gt;had&lt;/i&gt; to. She had no other choice.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    “Would you mind getting me seconds?” Mark asked bringing &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; back to reality.&lt;br /&gt;        “Not at all. I’d love to.” &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; couldn’t be more elated at that very moment.&lt;br /&gt;        The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. Mark loved the dinner, more so than she had expected. Being tired from a hard day at work, and an extravagant and unexpected dinner; Mark turned in and made it an early evening.&lt;br /&gt;        As &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; sat in her chair recalling the evening’s events, she knew she still had a lot of work to do. After all, the easy work was done. As she pocketed the empty vial of arsenic, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alice&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; could not help but smile to herself. At last, her sister was safe from harm.&lt;!-- toctype = X-unknown --&gt;&lt;!-- toctype = text --&gt;&lt;!-- text --&gt;                        &lt;!-- END TOC --&gt;        &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;form name="showLetter2" method="post" action="/ym/ShowLetter?Idx=0&amp;Search=&amp;amp;YY=71076&amp;order=down&amp;amp;sort=date&amp;pos=0&amp;amp;view=a&amp;amp;head=b"&gt; &lt;input name=".crumb" value="D/G.ywfEFSK" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;input name="MsgId" value="9858_4589425_115432_608_2508_0_129263_10287_1346899287" type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="box" value="Sent" type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="MOV" value="" type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="NewFol" value="" type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="destBox" value="" type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="newfoldermessage" value="Please enter a name for your folder." type="hidden"&gt; &lt;input name="DEL" value="" type="hidden"&gt;      &lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23640162-115017173853457193?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/115017173853457193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=115017173853457193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/115017173853457193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/115017173853457193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/06/really-short-story.html' title='REALLY short story'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-114507821887117157</id><published>2006-04-15T01:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T01:18:07.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>THUMP</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;THUMP&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart beats,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a drum,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear it in my head,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel it in my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes loud, sometimes quiet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The familiar bumping is within&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not escape from it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beating...&lt;br /&gt;Beating...&lt;br /&gt;Beating...&lt;br /&gt;of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long  as I breathe, the constant pulse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will live on&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/23640162-114507821887117157?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/114507821887117157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=114507821887117157' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114507821887117157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114507821887117157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/04/thump.html' title='THUMP'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-114188038687824847</id><published>2006-03-08T23:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T23:59:46.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter Tears of Anguish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have no right to complain of my life&lt;br /&gt;There are others with lives worst than my own&lt;br /&gt;At this point in time I have no choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m drowning in a turbulent sea of emotion&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are shedding endless bitter tears&lt;br /&gt;I’m overwhelmed with dismay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re all dealt a deck of cards in life&lt;br /&gt;We get high cards and lows cards&lt;br /&gt;We just have to know how to play the hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sight is obscured as they fill with tears&lt;br /&gt;My vision for the future is muddled&lt;br /&gt;These bitter tears blind me to no end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These bitter tears of anguish&lt;br /&gt;They stream down my face&lt;br /&gt;My emotion is still not released&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry at night in hopes of relief&lt;br /&gt;Relief from the troubles of the world&lt;br /&gt;The bitter tears of anguish wet my pillow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will the time of relief come&lt;br /&gt;The time when I can laugh again&lt;br /&gt;Laugh so hard I cry tears of contentment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These bitter tears of anguish&lt;br /&gt;They show no remorse for me&lt;br /&gt;They just show the world I am in pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23640162-114188038687824847?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/114188038687824847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=114188038687824847' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114188038687824847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114188038687824847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/03/bitter-tears-of-anguish.html' title='Bitter Tears of Anguish'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23640162.post-114179556657608593</id><published>2006-03-08T00:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T00:26:06.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Email from Kylie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, I thought I'd post this&lt;/span&gt; über nice email I recieved from Kylie today. Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;hey babe! So i'm online yay! but only for about 5 mins haha. anyway I just wanted to send you a quick hello and let you know i've been thinkin about you a lot lately and miss you more than i thought it would be possible to miss somsone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sorry you're going through a shitty time right now, i hope things will get better. I wish i had a shit load of money because i would fly to you and steal you away from work... id find a way, really i would. but yeah anyway. I love ya hun, you're an important part of my life and i hope you know that. You're an amazing person as well and i dont think you hear that enough, so believe me when i say it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well i have to go but i'll try and call you when i get to Washington, tomorrow i have an hr overlap so i'll try to call you then too. love ya tons and hope you're well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love your GF Always &amp; Forever! hehe&lt;br /&gt;Kylie&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 style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, yeah, it made me happy to see that. Made me feel much better.&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/23640162-114179556657608593?l=petemuzzy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/feeds/114179556657608593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23640162&amp;postID=114179556657608593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114179556657608593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23640162/posts/default/114179556657608593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petemuzzy.blogspot.com/2006/03/email-from-kylie.html' title='Email from Kylie'/><author><name>Pete Muzzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04658968818341574488</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sIavGRgCUeM/SXP0Ap5dubI/AAAAAAAAAAc/INsUKJOEckI/S220/Picture+1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
