<?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-10695692</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:57:55.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quit Staring At Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-3774048156772459720</id><published>2009-03-11T03:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T03:21:57.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a strange dream the other night.</title><content type='html'>So Jack Black happens to be part of group of people who are visiting and hanging out at my house (which typical of dreams is nothing like the one I actually live in) and his little pug dog starts pissing all over my stuff. So I tell Jack Black, "Your dog is pissing all over my stuff!" To which he replies "So take him outside!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I pick up the pug and on cue it knows to stop pissing and looks up at me with it's pug eyes. I move down a winding hallway and the dog is getting anxious and starts growling. So I arrive at a glass door, which I have fiddle with for a bit because it's not wanting to open right away. The pug is getting anxious, growling some more and lightly biting at my arm. To which I reply, "You knock that off!  The door will be open in a second!" So the door opens and the pug runs outside and starts pissing and shitting all over the yard. Unbelievable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-3774048156772459720?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/3774048156772459720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=3774048156772459720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/3774048156772459720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/3774048156772459720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-had-strange-dream-other-night.html' title='I had a strange dream the other night.'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-1821077719097153970</id><published>2009-03-11T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T03:35:05.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naturalist really is a better term than atheist or agnostic.</title><content type='html'>That is if I had to be labeled something when it comes to my view of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a person who can only observe what we see, and what we see and experience is what we know. The natural world is what we can observe and what surrounds us, what we are part of and we are ,by extension, just "a cog in the machine". The simple truth is we cannot exist seperate from it and it is silly to assume otherwise. What reason is there to think otherwise? It is silly to believe in a supernatural world and to believe so needlessly complicates things. The natural world is all that exists. So I suppose if I had to, I consider myself a naturalist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you ask, "What about God?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about god?" I ask back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You pause a second and rephrase your question, "Why don't you believe in God?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why should I?" I reply&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you explain," you put your hand out, "ALL THIS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do I explain all this?" I ask rhetorically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"YES!" You demand to know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I suppose in bits and pieces as we study and observe it. To the best of our ability!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about God?" you ask again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God?" I reply, "The question of God is reletively insignificant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT!?!" You scoff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A God that exists outside the universe, the Gods of the many different religions of today aren't literally real. maybe figuratively."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, Smarty pants!" You say, "Then you're saying god exists within the universe? That God is The Universe?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, not really. The universe is the universe. I wouldn't want to attribute any personality to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what are you saying then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm saying the question of God is insignificant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you're saying MAYBE there is a God?" you say hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm saying it doesn't make any difference."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So where did the universe come from?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How the hell should I know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So are you an atheist or an agnostic?" You demand to know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ugh. I really do hate those terms. I suppose you could call me a naturalist if you insist on calling me something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about God?" You ask one more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is no question of God for me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-1821077719097153970?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/1821077719097153970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=1821077719097153970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/1821077719097153970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/1821077719097153970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2009/03/naturalist-really-is-better-term-than.html' title='Naturalist really is a better term than atheist or agnostic.'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-114374593118199664</id><published>2006-03-30T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T11:12:11.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So the window on the driver's side of my car...</title><content type='html'>doesn't roll up unless I hit it *just right*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the other day, I have my window down and it's not wanting to roll up. I'm driving and my Mom is with me and I'm trying for a good 10 minutes trying to get the fucker up. I'm getting pretty annoyed and at my most annoyed the window FINALLY goes up. So I turn to my mom and say, "See that? My rage made that window go up!" So my Mom says, "I think it was my prayer."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-114374593118199664?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/114374593118199664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=114374593118199664' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/114374593118199664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/114374593118199664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-window-on-drivers-side-of-my-car.html' title='So the window on the driver&apos;s side of my car...'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111985100603185013</id><published>2005-06-26T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T22:43:26.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Killer Zombie Cockroaches!</title><content type='html'>So I had this dream last night and it had cockroaches in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was gross. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was on vacation somewhere and the room I was staying in was just infested with cockroaches. I'd pick up the blanket on the bed I was sleeping in and cockroaches would be grouped there and scatter of. pick up a pillow. same thing would happens. It was fucking disgusting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also had zombies in it.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The zombies were heading toward this room I was headed towards. The zombies were speaking to me telepathically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run into the room really quick, slam the door and lock it. I hear banging on the door. All of the sudden my cat sqeezes under the crack of the door. (which made no sense because my cat is fat). But it really wasn't my cat. The zombies had shapeshiften into the form of my cat. My cat is speaking to me telepathically too. Then all of the sudden it morphs into a bunch of cockroaches and scatters off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shudders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111985100603185013?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111985100603185013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111985100603185013' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111985100603185013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111985100603185013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/06/killer-zombie-cockroaches.html' title='Killer Zombie Cockroaches!'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111629269246867898</id><published>2005-05-16T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T18:18:12.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff I wrote or:  How I wrote shit and posted it on a blog</title><content type='html'>1) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henry sat on his ass for a few hours watching television. The show was hypnotic. The show was pretty much giant swirls and small swirls rotating at various speeds with loud techno music as the soundtrack. You might ask, “What’s so hypnotizing about swirls rotating to techno music? I hate swirls. And I hate techno music even more!” Well, not if you were high. This guy was very high. Drool rolled down his chin and the sudden change in the techno beats inspired him to smile. The smile was exposed and revealed the man’s rotting teeth. The man never visited the dentist because he had no money. The little money he had from the little amount of work he did usually went to drugs. The man never really thought about the toll these drugs took on his body. The man never thought, “Hell, if I keep this up I’m not going to live very long.” All he thought was, “Damn, it feels good to be high.” He sure the hell wasn’t worried about leaving a beautiful corpse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look over there!” Thomas said to Bart and pointed to a large object about a hundred yards to his left. &lt;br /&gt;“What?” Said Bart as he looked to the right. &lt;br /&gt;“Why are you looking over there? Do you see anything over there?” &lt;br /&gt;Bart decides to look to his left this time, “What the hell is it?” &lt;br /&gt;“Dunno.” &lt;br /&gt;“It’s big!” &lt;br /&gt;“I’d say so.” &lt;br /&gt;“Want to check it out?” &lt;br /&gt;“Sure.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in the corner is small item in a box. The box is huge. Didn’t expect to see such a small item in the box. What a waste of space. So I take the item out of the box, sit the item on my corner table and destroy the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111629269246867898?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111629269246867898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111629269246867898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111629269246867898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111629269246867898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/05/stuff-i-wrote-or-how-i-wrote-shit-and.html' title='Stuff I wrote or:  How I wrote shit and posted it on a blog'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111508395532467754</id><published>2005-05-02T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T18:32:35.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>y'know what I love?</title><content type='html'>When you try to post a blog and it appears not to have gone through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then ya come back later and it's posted 3 times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111508395532467754?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111508395532467754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111508395532467754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111508395532467754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111508395532467754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/05/yknow-what-i-love.html' title='y&apos;know what I love?'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111508382660988228</id><published>2005-05-02T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T18:30:26.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An update to the Goat story!</title><content type='html'>So yesterday I call Goat's house to tell him that some of his special orders came in...(and yes, this is the number that he gave us...the number I've called many times before to tell him when things come in for him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;phone rings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?" says the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is Goat there?" I ask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody named goat lives here," she laughs, "What type of person has a name like Goat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it sounds like a nickname."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman laughs, "Nope, he doesn't live here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE FUCK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are Goat and his family crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my manager this story today and he just had me put out the dvd and shirt that came in for Goat out in stock. Then he had me pull the other special orders Goat had and any other contact information we had for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of Goat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goofy fuckers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111508382660988228?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111508382660988228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111508382660988228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111508382660988228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111508382660988228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/05/update-to-goat-story.html' title='An update to the Goat story!'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111497883086501128</id><published>2005-05-01T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T13:20:30.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmm</title><content type='html'>so my 2 year old nephew walks up to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's keeps repeating, "hey ryan!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so I ask him, "what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he points at me and says, "You're the man! You're the man!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so I say, "thank you." and he walks off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111497883086501128?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111497883086501128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111497883086501128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111497883086501128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111497883086501128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/05/hmm.html' title='hmm'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111497469144871397</id><published>2005-05-01T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T12:11:31.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>school dreams</title><content type='html'>I'm 24 (going to be 25 in May)...I graduated high school almost 7 years ago.  Damn!  Where'd that time go?  *Shudders* I Can’t imagine how it'll feel in 20 years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had two dreams in the last month that I was back in high school.  Both dreams were fairly similar too.  It's always the first day and I'm always 2 or 3 classes late.  The high school hardly looks like the one I went to either.  I can never find the head office to go sign in and get my schedule (because, hell, if I'm there, I might as well know where I'm going).  I'm also wandering the halls, talking to people, not in class, getting lost, running errands for work at the same time, driving my car around a lot...  All kinds of things are going on while I'm at school.  Hell, I even have time to take a smoke break in my quest to get to class.   In the most current one I actually made it to my gym class only to get into a verbal argument with the teacher that resulted in nothing more than me walking off to watch these crazy toys/animals playing in the playground.  It was strange.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111497469144871397?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111497469144871397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111497469144871397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111497469144871397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111497469144871397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/05/school-dreams.html' title='school dreams'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111231433784915993</id><published>2005-03-31T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T16:12:17.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High School Dreams</title><content type='html'>I'm 24 (going to be 25 in May)...I graduated high school almost 7 years ago.  Damn!  Where'd that time go?  *Shudders* I Can’t imagine how it'll feel in 20 years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had two dreams in the last month that I was back in high school.  Both dreams were fairly similar too.  It's always the first day and I'm always 2 or 3 classes late.  The high school hardly looks like the one I went to either.  I can never find the head office to go sign in and get my schedule (because, hell, if I'm there, I might as well know where I'm going).  I'm also wandering the halls, talking to people, not in class, getting lost, running errands for work at the same time, driving my car around a lot...  All kinds of things are going on while I'm at school.  Hell, I even have time to take a smoke break in my quest to get to class.   In the most current one I actually made it to my gym class only to get into a verbal argument with the teacher that resulted in nothing more than me walking off to watch these crazy toys/animals playing in the playground.  It was strange.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111231433784915993?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111231433784915993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111231433784915993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111231433784915993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111231433784915993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/03/high-school-dreams_31.html' title='High School Dreams'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111231186593680837</id><published>2005-03-31T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T15:31:05.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High School Dreams...</title><content type='html'>I'm 24 (going to be 25 in May)...I graduated high school almost 7 years ago. Damn! Where'd that time go? *Shudders* I Can’t imagine how it'll feel in 20 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had two dreams in the last month that I was back in high school. Both dreams were fairly similar too. It's always the first day and I'm always 2 or 3 classes late. The high school hardly looks like the one I went to either. I can never find the head office to go sign in and get my schedule (because, hell, if I'm there, I might as well know where I'm going). I'm also wandering the halls, talking to people, not in class, getting lost, running errands for work at the same time, driving my car around a lot... All kinds of things are going on while I'm at school. Hell, I even have time to take a smoke break in my quest to get to class. In the most current one I actually made it to my gym class only to get into a verbal argument with the teacher that resulted in nothing more than me walking off to watch these crazy toys/animals playing in the playground. It was strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111231186593680837?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111231186593680837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111231186593680837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111231186593680837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111231186593680837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/03/high-school-dreams.html' title='High School Dreams...'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111153521144947307</id><published>2005-03-22T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T15:46:51.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny work story.</title><content type='html'>So there is this customer where I work.  He goes by the name of Goat.(even though his real name is something like Corey.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, a few months ago he calls up and orders a cd but he says his name is Jobe.  We end up finding out Jobe is really Goat and that he's going by the name of Jobe now.  So we'll call him up when his special orders come in and we'll be like, "is Jobe there?"  And I swear just about every time the person who answers the phone will be like, "You have the wrong number" and they'll hang up.  And everytime within minutes we'll get a return call saying like, "Hey this is Jobe.  Something came in for me?"  So the other day I call his number and get the same thing.  He calls back maybe 20 minutes later and he's like, "Hey this is Goat, did something come in for me?"   So I ask him, "So you aren't going by Jobe anymore?"  He responds "No, my name is Goat."  What the fuck?  Does this dude have multiple personalities or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today he comes in with his mother and father to pick up his cds.  His  mom starts talking, "Hey, why is it every time you call you ask for Jobe or Joe or whatever."  So I say, "that's the name he gave us."  They look kinda annoyed and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour later I get a call from the other Coop(the name of the place I work) across the river.  It's my buddy Bruce, who's the manager over there, "Hey, you have a run in with Goat and his family?"  I say something ,like, "Not really, they were just in here.  why?"  He says, "Well, they were just in here and didn't have kind words about you."  I laugh and ask what they said about me, "Well they called stuff like asshole and dick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111153521144947307?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111153521144947307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111153521144947307' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111153521144947307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111153521144947307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/03/funny-work-story.html' title='Funny work story.'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-111044129610468580</id><published>2005-03-09T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T23:54:56.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No clue why I started this blogger</title><content type='html'>Nothing particulary interesting to say for the last few weeks.  Guess I could start making stuff up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-111044129610468580?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/111044129610468580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=111044129610468580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111044129610468580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/111044129610468580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/03/no-clue-why-i-started-this-blogger.html' title='No clue why I started this blogger'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10695692.post-110784209478343527</id><published>2005-02-07T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T22:01:17.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>testing testing one...two...</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;blockquote id="eb8e122c"&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;Three?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post something when I have something to say.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10695692-110784209478343527?l=quitstaringatme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/feeds/110784209478343527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10695692&amp;postID=110784209478343527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/110784209478343527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10695692/posts/default/110784209478343527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://quitstaringatme.blogspot.com/2005/02/testing-testing-onetwo.html' title='testing testing one...two...'/><author><name>RyanHoffman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05534157057487434372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
