<?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-680252794542115921</id><updated>2012-02-10T00:29:16.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shallow Ponderings by Jill Footey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>177</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5065273864364253965</id><published>2012-02-10T00:15:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T00:29:16.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes for Sale</title><content type='html'>I don't encourage anybody to buy this (it won't make me any money whatsoever) but it's pretty weird that I have some of my comedy on amazon. Here's a link:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.amazon.com/Jill-Footey/dp/B00700XBK4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's an itunes link, too.&lt;br /&gt;http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/2011-laughing-stock-comedy/id496310081&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was promised a copy of the album but haven't see it. Yet? Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say the album is missing the comedy of Stefan Davis &amp; Dan Wilbur and they were my personal favorites.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-5065273864364253965?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5065273864364253965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/02/jokes-for-sale.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5065273864364253965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5065273864364253965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/02/jokes-for-sale.html' title='Jokes for Sale'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7713601655361248100</id><published>2012-01-16T06:40:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T06:42:04.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 16</title><content type='html'>From now on, when anybody stops by my house, I'm going to give them gas money for making the trip...even if they just drove half a mile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7713601655361248100?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7713601655361248100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-16.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7713601655361248100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7713601655361248100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-16.html' title='January 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3238116464362435144</id><published>2012-01-11T21:18:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T21:21:02.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>january 11</title><content type='html'>sometimes i see people with a package of m&amp;ms and if they get one that's deformed, they throw it in the garbage.&lt;br /&gt;i've seen people toss out pretzels that are broken or crackers that are crumbling.&lt;br /&gt;it's a tragedy. when i see a deformed m&amp;m or almond or pretzel, that's the first one i pick because i know how it feels.&lt;br /&gt;have a heart. make a commitment to eat more deformed food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3238116464362435144?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3238116464362435144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3238116464362435144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3238116464362435144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-11.html' title='january 11'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5868002666046326492</id><published>2011-12-18T14:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T14:29:59.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 18</title><content type='html'>I like to warn people before they meet me that I'm a large woman. You won't be able to see me all at once but if you bring a panoramic camera, take a photo, and get it developed, you will then be able to view me all at one time. That's just the way us large folk roll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-5868002666046326492?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5868002666046326492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5868002666046326492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5868002666046326492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-18.html' title='December 18'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7824887027864238766</id><published>2011-12-09T23:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T23:24:37.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Is forcing your kids to play Bingo over and over and over again child abuse? I hope not because I spent way too much time making those Bingo cards and I want to put them to good use. I know that in 60 years when the great-grandkids gather 'round they will be whispering to each other, "Oh no! Is she talking about Bingo AGAIN? She's not going to make us play, is she?" I won't even feel bad about it though because I spent a whole lot of time making those Bingo cards. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7824887027864238766?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7824887027864238766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-9.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7824887027864238766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7824887027864238766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-9.html' title='December 9'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8309235677550899823</id><published>2011-12-07T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T19:48:32.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have a real eye for art so I won't let my kids go tagging in our own neighborhood unless they've done a good job downtown first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8309235677550899823?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8309235677550899823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-7.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8309235677550899823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8309235677550899823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-7.html' title='December 7'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8569850987859371929</id><published>2011-12-06T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T08:33:02.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 6</title><content type='html'>Obviously romance is a myth-it has the word "MAN" in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8569850987859371929?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8569850987859371929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8569850987859371929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8569850987859371929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-6.html' title='December 6'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-122643526758611928</id><published>2011-12-05T11:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T11:09:00.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm on a tight remodeling budget. If something can be changed with a can of spray paint, I move forward with it. Otherwise, I leave it as it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-122643526758611928?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/122643526758611928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-5.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/122643526758611928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/122643526758611928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-5.html' title='December 5'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8992487348294740952</id><published>2011-12-03T07:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T07:24:49.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think we've given plenty of thought and publicity to synchronized swimming. It's about time to expand our horizons. It's time for synchronized customer service calls. What an art that would be! It's also time for synchronized fish-gutting. Wouldn't that be beautiful?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8992487348294740952?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8992487348294740952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8992487348294740952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8992487348294740952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-3.html' title='December 3'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1644693328767570981</id><published>2011-12-02T08:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T08:37:45.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you ever gone tanning and thought, "Oh no! What if I pee a little on accident while I'm in here?" That's never happened to me either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1644693328767570981?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1644693328767570981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1644693328767570981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1644693328767570981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-2.html' title='December 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2596051073781719584</id><published>2011-10-28T15:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T15:01:49.857-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Why don't sports teams have a pomegranate as their mascot? Those fruits are so hard to break apart! Having that as a mascot would really send an intimidating message to the opposing team!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2596051073781719584?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2596051073781719584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-28_28.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2596051073781719584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2596051073781719584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-28_28.html' title='October 28'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4024153216032308844</id><published>2011-10-28T10:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T10:18:06.781-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Why are flyswatters bright colors? It's like the manufacturers of them are on the side of all the flies. "Let's make these in bold, bright colors so that any time somebody wants to kill a fly with them, the flies can get away because they will see the big, bright color coming right at them and have plenty of time to escape!" If they really wanted us to kill flies, they would have made them camouflage through the air. They would have made them clear. That way the flies would think, "That's a weird shaped chunk of air," and then BAM! End of fly problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-4024153216032308844?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4024153216032308844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4024153216032308844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4024153216032308844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-28.html' title='October 28'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1645147774241329086</id><published>2011-10-18T17:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T18:00:00.915-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 18</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Airports are like hospitals. Short &amp;amp; infrequent visits can do some good but it's not a place you want to be on a regular basis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1645147774241329086?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1645147774241329086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1645147774241329086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1645147774241329086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-18.html' title='October 18'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3722161930046389095</id><published>2011-10-12T09:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T18:01:27.156-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Stray...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;I wish I could focus better. Sometimes I just get so distracted that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3722161930046389095?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3722161930046389095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/stray.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3722161930046389095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3722161930046389095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/stray.html' title='A Stray...'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4741675238911604070</id><published>2011-10-12T09:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T20:52:46.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;*Do you burn more calories when your face turns red? After all, blood does have to pump harder into your face...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Want that "haunted house" experience but can't pony up the cash? Just leave me a message and I will be more than happy to haunt your house for a day or two. It's the economical alternative to a good spook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*If you are ever feeling lonely and just need a moment's rush of feeling superior (which is not something you should need so stop reading)...just drive to the airport and laugh at all the people who are waiting and waiting but it seems like nobody has or will arrive to pick them up. Yell things like, "You might as well rent a car, loser!" I hope you didn't read all of this because that's just mean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/680252794542115921-4741675238911604070?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4741675238911604070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4741675238911604070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4741675238911604070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/october-12.html' title='October 12'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2266565901107465280</id><published>2011-10-08T04:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T20:53:46.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughingstock Comedy Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I qualified for a comedy competition which features comedians from New York, California, Illinois, and Utah. Can't wait to give it a whirl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/680252794542115921-2266565901107465280?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2266565901107465280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/laughingstock-comedy-festival.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2266565901107465280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2266565901107465280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/10/laughingstock-comedy-festival.html' title='Laughingstock Comedy Festival'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2746178699222058004</id><published>2011-09-28T09:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T09:24:34.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 28</title><content type='html'>My kid has a financial plan. There's a toy he wants and he just needs to lose 4 more teeth quickly to be able to afford it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2746178699222058004?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2746178699222058004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/09/september-28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2746178699222058004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2746178699222058004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/09/september-28.html' title='September 28'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2973741357421900968</id><published>2011-06-01T11:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T12:01:08.212-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 1 again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This kind of sums up my recent experience using KSL.com classifieds to sell a swing set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Most of you have probably seen "People of Walmart." I think there is  another clearly defined group of people lurking right here near the Salt  Lake Valley known as the People of the KSL Classifieds. Here are a few  ways you can be sure you have met some of these people once you've  posted an ad on KSL.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They call you seven times in a row.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They  have a list of absurd and irrelevant questions about the product you're  selling (i.e. If you're selling a toaster, they ask how long it can be  in the toasting position before it lights on fire)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They aren't actually fluent in English. It's quite possible they're not actually fluent in any language.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You  tell them that you'll only give them your address if they can pick it  up immediately and they agree to do so and then when you give them your  address at 2 in the afternoon, they say, "My husband works until 5 and  we live in American Fork so we'll come by when he gets home from work."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You state in the ad you will not deliver and they ask if you can deliver.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You state in the ad they should bring a truck and they show up with a minivan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You state in the ad that the price is firm and when they show up, they ask if you can take less money.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You have over 250 views and about 45 calls within a few hours and they ask if they can pay half of the asking price.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They  tell you they want it really bad but they are very busy for some reason  or other so they need you to hold it for them for a while.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They expect help disassembling the item because you told them to bring a truck and they showed up with a minivan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-They ask if you have anything else you'd like to sell them while they're there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-You mark the item sold and people keep calling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-After telling a caller the item is sold, the caller says, "But I really wanted that!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-After  telling a caller the item is sold, the caller asks who you sold it to,  as if I collect business cards. I sold it to whoever showed up with the  money the fastest, douche bag.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-After telling a caller the item is  sold and has been picked up, the caller asks if they can be next in  line in case it falls through.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How do you know that you've PURCHASED from these kind of people?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When  you call to ask about the item (let's just say it's a dishwasher), they  tell you every last detail of their life including where they work and  their schedule. When you get a little creeped out and ask them to just  meet you at a gas station, they insist that they and their spouse meet  you &amp;amp; your spouse and then they suggest swinging as a possibility.  When you don't respond but are just glad the whole thing is over with,  they call you at home because "they haven't heard from you in a while.  Please call any time to catch up." Dude, I just wanted your dishwasher. I  didn't want your "dishwasher" if you know what I mean.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;KSL.com Classifieds, I think it's time you &amp;amp; I break up. It's just not working out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/680252794542115921-2973741357421900968?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2973741357421900968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-1-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2973741357421900968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2973741357421900968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-1-again.html' title='June 1 again'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4551069152614590412</id><published>2011-06-01T11:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T11:58:26.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I guess now would be a good time to catch up so here's what some of my thoughts have been (if you haven't already read them on Facebook):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  when people picked sports teams, the captains picked for the OTHER  team, a lot of people would no longer be the last ones picked...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I met  an elderly lady in the grocery store today that says she doesn't have  Alzheimers-she has sometimers because she only loses it some of the  time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If you get mug shots taken, please smile and try to look your best. Nothing is more depressing than an ugly criminal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;How many ladies choose the length of their skirt based on how recently they shaved?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;What  if pets got together for drinks at night and blew off steam about all  the stupid things their masters did that day? Too bad I don't have any pets...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Every good invention idea I come up with ends up in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond store!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  you want to get a laugh in, show up to an elementary school on a rainy  day (well, not if you're too creepy though) and look around at how many  kids have broken umbrellas-good times...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;my kid just said he's really good at doing teamwork all by himself. he plays as well with others as i do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;my  daughter's school had a 5k we went to this morning-i pushed my youngest  in the stroller for 3 miles and when we were done, he said, "well, that  was easy!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;payday!!! the day that reminds me of what i love about having a job!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If you forget to put the C in MATCH, You get MATH...so...that's probably a pretty helpful thing to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;People  always refer to the "window of opportunity" but I think that's just  giving crooks a lot of ideas when they see a cracked window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;My  10 year-old's a genius. She offers to give the family free massages but  then she makes us fill out so much paperwork that it's not worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Dave's Body Shop (7800 South 1300ish West) has the motto: home of the invisible repairs...What?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Person: Wasn't your car in the shop for the last week?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Customer: Yes, it was.&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Person: I can't even see any repairs-they must be invisible. Did you go to Dave's???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;This  guy I know (we'll call him my husband) was getting frisky and I yelled,  "Get off of me!!!" but he replied, "You had me at get off."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  took a poor person's vacation by deactivating facebook for a week,  that's as close as I can come to getting away from it all...for free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I love a lot of people moreo, which means more than an oreo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  don't like to burp. I used to never do it but then I realized people  really like it when I do and I gotta keep the people happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I like to announce movie night by yelling, "Timber....&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wait for it.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wait for it.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Ton."&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If you missed it, phonetically it ends up being Tim Burton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;The Cemetary: It's where all the magic happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Everything's  romantic when you hold hands...like that time my husband told me about  the other woman. I didn't mind because he was holding my hand. Her name,  btw, is Worlda Warcraft. What kind of parent names their kid Worlda???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;why  do birds chirp at 5:30 in the morning? well, they're always on  vacation. they are complete bums-eating worms and fruit out of everybody  else's yard &amp;amp; good luck catching them and punishing them for it.  they can spend all day hanging out with their friends, nap when they  want, fly when they want, live off of the hard work of others. i want to  be a bird when i grow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;What  do you tell your friend when her grandpa's so creepy, you just know  he's a pedofile? Can you just drop a card in the mail? Something  like..."Had so much fun hanging out with you last weekend. Your hair  looked so cute. Your grandpa molests people. Can't wait for karaoke  night. See ya then."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Some  people say they don't like to sleep alone. Those are people that never  woke up next to a man in the middle of the night and thought, "What's  that smell?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;The  only thing more fun than seeing your kids get their Easter baskets is  helping them disappear again and watching your kids look for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; glad  we made the decision a while back to skip public Easter egg hunts.  We've taught our kids too many manners for them to have any fun at those  things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I'm  tired of reading books/seeing movies where people live normally and  suddenly snap. I want to read/see something where somebody has totally  snapped and halfway through they just go back to normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Do  doctors ever get together and write each other prescriptions, just for  kicks &amp;amp; giggles? Then do they get together again once they've taken  those prescriptions just for an unscripted night of funny?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Finances  are low and it would be a good idea to get names &amp;amp; addresses of  people who are REALLY blind and then rob them. Even if they did catch  me, they couldn't give the police a description.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;We  signed the kid up for baseball and they were so desperate that my  husband &amp;amp; I are coaching, starting tonight. I'll probably teach  those kids many terrible things but baseball will be the least of the  lessons they get from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  you want to have a good time at the dentist, ask him several times  throughout the visit, "Are you my dad?" When he says no, say something  like, "Well, we have the same eyes" and then get input from others in  the office to see if they agree. When you leave, say, "Bye Dad!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Time  for another tip for those pesky dental visits...if you decide you're  going to grab the tools and threaten the staff with them, just to spice  things up, it's kind of helpful to have paid attention to how to get  them to work first. If you say, "I'm going to drill YOU now" and then  you have to ask how to turn it on, your dental visit is usually over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;why  would I let a silly little thing like a restraining order my dentist  got keep me from having a little fun at his office? good thing he's  close enough i can break in at night. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;We saw my favorite comedian for $15 a ticket, sat 10  feet away from him for 1 1/2 hours, and talked to him on our way out.  What does it cost to see your favorite musician and how far away do you  end up being? It's a lot of money for very unlikely interaction. I love  how accessible comedians really are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;*I&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; saw  a homeless man with an Ipod. How did an Ipod become the priority? I  robbed the guy because how would he reach rock bottom and change with  nice tunes cheering him up all the time? In unrelated news, I have an  Ipod up on e-bay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If more people sewed like me and made their own clothes, we'd all get a good daily chuckle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;When ladies don't shave and then put nylons on, it looks like they tried to stuff a carpet into the nylons, bad idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;What is "You'd look cute in that shirt if your face were Asian" supposed to mean???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I love  hearing about awkward compliments. Everybody should give somebody one  of those today..."you don't look young at all but you sure do you look  wise!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  went to a murder mystery party...why am I always assigned to be the  floozy??? It just doesn't seem to fi---well, hello there fella...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  melatonin ran for president, I'd vote for it. Maybe half our problems  would get solved if everybody just got a little more sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span jsid="text"&gt;The presidential campaign slogan would be "Let's  sleep on it..." State of the Union address would be short..."People are  concerned about the budget-let's sleep on it. Some want to approve gay  marriage-let's sleep on it. Some changes need to be made in education  but let's just sleep on it for now..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;When  somebody says that they're really "pinching their pennies" I feel like I  don't want to be their friend anymore. There are a lot of strange  habits out there but pinching coins? C'mon, there are better ways to use  your time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Do people with multiple personality disorder take in too many calories every day trying to feed all those different people?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;So  I tried out some "handicap pride" jokes on my husband tonight (because I  saw somebody have one of those vinyl stickers of their family and they  had their character in a wheelchair-obvious pride, right?) and he gave  them the axe. If they're not funny, they're not funny but I really  wanted to run with "handicap pride" ..."Pimp my wheelchair" and  such...now I got nothin' for the day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-4551069152614590412?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4551069152614590412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4551069152614590412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4551069152614590412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-1.html' title='June 1'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2580366566276915566</id><published>2011-03-23T21:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T21:02:19.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March 23</title><content type='html'>*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I've  been in a jogging slump-haven't felt much like going lately. I got  myself some running shoes, hoping to get inspired but it turns out they  are even more comfortable to wear when you're sitting down than they are  when you're running in them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;The  weird thing about going to church is that I never hear somebody get up  and say, "Let's get this party started!" and yet it's still the kind of  party that's totally off the hook without anybody even saying it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span jsid="text"&gt;The choir does their rendition of many songs and I  always like when they let you know what song they'll be singing because  it sounds slightly un-recognizable once they get started. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span jsid="text"&gt;I may or may not have been in charge of a popcorn fight as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;My  husband did something late last night that made me mad so I was going  to hurt him in his sleep but while I was waiting for him to fall asleep,  I accidentally fell asleep myself. Oh well. There's always tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Dishes  as a whole are like a little leprechaun-you can just never catch the  last one. If I ever WERE to catch them all, I think a leprechaun really  would show up and taunt, "Well, good luck getting all the laundry done!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  just read that coca-cola is the number one soda pop and while pepsi has  traditionally been #2, it just fell to #3 behind diet coke. i'd like to  personally commit to try to get pepsi back up there. if everybody would  just drink a pepsi or two a day, imagine the difference we can make in  the world-or at least in the cola market which is highly representative  of the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  can't stop thinking about how weird it is that women in their 50s and  60s who've gone through menopause can still utilize in-vitro  fertilization and have a baby. "Hey Grandma. I guess we'll both be  having a child around the same time..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Gotta  say I have an awesome husband. When he didn't want to go to bed at the  same time and I threatened to get a new husband for those times when I  don't want to sleep alone, he decided maybe he WAS ready for bed after  all. Then he bothered me enough that I wished I had just let him stay  up-ha ha! Marriage is bliss!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I have to pee. Perhaps I'll make an evening of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Due  to a couple close calls with almost getting hit by a vehicle when I go  jogging, I tend to spend a good chunk of time on my jogs thinking about  what it would sound like to get hit and how far I'll fly and then what  my hitting the ground or wall  or fence will sound like, too. I'm really  hoping that when I do get hit, I'm not too disappointed with how it  ends up sounding!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;My  husband says I can't play basketball with him &amp;amp; all of his friends  if I'm going to break into songs from musicals so often. What a poor  sport!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;We  took our kids to their first hockey game this weekend and I told them  that when people don't want to get hit with a puck, they have to cover  themselves in urine, which repels hockey pucks. Turns out, not only did  the kids believe it but they were very careful about which seats they'd  sit in, hoping not to get one that had too much urine from previous  guests.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  anybody needs to feel good about themselves, play video games with me. 3  year-olds beat me, my parents (who think Mario is a reference to Mario  Lopez since he was on Dancing with the Stars) can beat me. Really, give  your self-esteem a boost and set up a time to game with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I &lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;went  to work tonight and for a while there, I was the only girl in a room  with about 8 guys. It gave me flashbacks to college study groups and I  was terrified that I'd be the only one doing any work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;*I&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; put  together a basketball standard. The instructions said it required 2  adults to assemble but it turned out we never had to work together. One  adult works until their nerves are fried and then the next adult is  required to take over from there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  can't have more children but I like to buy pregnancy tests just to have  fun conversations with cashiers. They can't seem to ring up a pregnancy  test without making a comment about it. I wait a day or two &amp;amp; then  return it, saying, "Whoops on this impulse buy-I can't even get  pregnant!" I think I'm in for another fun weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Sometimes  when I'm sitting in the front room at night and looking out the window,  I'm amazed at how close the moon is. I feel some kind of cosmic  connection to it. That's usually about the time when, upon closer  examination, I realize I've been admiring a streetlamp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;You know it might not be the best day when you shave one leg and forget about the other and later try to get into the wrong car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2580366566276915566?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2580366566276915566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/03/march-23.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2580366566276915566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2580366566276915566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/03/march-23.html' title='March 23'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2243544085721613821</id><published>2011-02-19T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T14:44:21.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 style="text-align: justify; font-weight: normal;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  don't really care for chimichangas but I buy them from time to time  because it's a fun word to say. I always ask the cashier if she  remembered to charge me for the chimichangas. I love to announce all  day, "We're having chimichangas for dinner!" I actually have more fun  during those announcements than I do during dinner...ah, chimichangas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2243544085721613821?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2243544085721613821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/02/february-19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2243544085721613821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2243544085721613821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/02/february-19.html' title='February 19'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4987635679819261971</id><published>2011-02-15T07:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T07:32:04.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up...all the thoughts I've been too lazy to post</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Being  the ugly sister sure has its benefits! I recently found out that while  my sister was forced by my parents to go on lots of dates they had  arranged, they never so much as suggested the idea to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;A lot of people say, "Well, that's fishy" and it will turn out they know hardly anything about fish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Everybody  seems to want what they can't have. Gonorrhea seems like something  wonderful and it sounds pretty but once you get it, you can hardly wait  to give it away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  just saw that the divorce rate in Utah has significantly dropped. I  guess when a recession hits, people can't even afford to get divorced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I've used &amp;amp; enjoyed several generic items but let's be honest-the generic phonebook is total crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;The  news is so negative. They report robberies but they never report the  opposite, when somebody holds you at gunpoint until you take money or  expensive things from them. The news should report those once in a  while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  use the New Age method of drying off after a shower or bath. Wrap up in  a towel, lay down and sleep for a while. When I wake up, I'm dry AND  rested.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If you want a challenge followed with a frozen treat, perhaps you would enjoy a popstickle course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  told the doctor that Tum's were not helping with my heartburn at all.  We started discussing the finer details of my experience with Tum's and  the meeting ended with him yelling, "Tum's are not a suppository!" Who  knew?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Lotion  is glorious! Even if you put on too much, it can always just be rubbed  in until it's absorbed or you can go around and wipe the excess off on  others. Either way, it's such a flexible product.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  was a little moody at the age of 16 and my dad told me I couldn't get  my driver's license unless I started taking Prozac (but like any good  teenager, I didn't listen). Turns out he wasn't interested in my mental  well-being, he had just bought a lot of stock in Eli Lilly &amp;amp; Co.,  the manufacturers of Prozac.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Yesterday  my daughter had a fever, didn't feel good at all. I gave her ibuprofen  and she was napping, which was very unusual. It turned out she'd just  put on two heavy pairs of pants and was overheating-I had no idea. When  she took off one of the pairs, she felt fine. Next time your child has a  fever, check if they have extra pants on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I  learned something new at work last night. In some parts of Detroit, you  can buy a house for $1. There's absolutely no safety there but next  time I hear somebody say they can't afford a house, this little factoid  is going to pop out of my mouth...dollar menu Detroit-that's what they  should call it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;When talking about a serial rapist, would you describe his actions as "rapetitive?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;They sure make a lot of kinds of scales these days. Where can I find one that will lie to me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Society  does not give us proper opportunities to practice our accents,  particularly the ones that don't actually come from anywhere. I say  create your own opportunities and I do just that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;A shimmy is the appropriate response to a variety of questions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If you were an alien, what would your favorite word be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;There's  nothing like a warm, glowing fire in the winter time. After I've gotten  warm near the fire that was once somebody's house, I just head on my  way so somebody else can have a chance to sit by the fire and warm up  for a few minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Have you ever jumped out a 4th story window and half way down realized you probably should have planned some kind of landing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;You know it's just going to be one of those days when you have to hairspray your eyebrows down!&lt;/span&gt; The way things go for me, it's probably about time I open an eyebrow salon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***A big question I have is can you smell snot?&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I'm really curious because I've never heard somebody say, "Wow! It smells like snot in here!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;People look surprisingly different with a pie in their face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;So maybe I did burn something but at least that means I was cooking!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Girls just want a guy that can cook once in a while and guys just want a (insert name of stupid vehicle here).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If you were bald, you wouldn't laugh so hard about the grass not growing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;When it's all said and done, I just want to be remembered for my gargle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***I  wanted to have a good time since it was a day off. I left the house  with $3, shopped for almost 2 hours, and came home with my same $3. That  is what I call self-discipline!&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Oh...and there is that small detail of my Target bill increasing by $45...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Mothering  Tip: It's perfectly fine to watch your son play basketball whether it  be in youth league, high school, or professional.It is NOT okay to go watch your adult son COACH basketball to 6 year-olds.&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; This 20-ish year old yelled, "Mom, bring me my water!" (because coaching can really leave you winded???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Getting dressed in the dark just never turns out quite how you would hope...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Sometimes  when I'm up to bat I feel like I'm getting beat up and then I realize I  am getting beat up and the umpire's yelling something about me not  being on the team...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I just realized the only thing that stands between an opinion and an onion is a pi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;There's  nothin' like havin' a face so cold, i can't feel the snot drip down and  it's not until i see a mirror that i realize there's a real problem...i  was wondering why the "air" was so salty. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Every  seat should have an eject button for two reasons: in case you don't  want to be there anymore or in case you don't want the person next to  you there anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  they called formaldehyde "formaldecow", which is probably where the  "hyde" came from, people wouldn't use it so much because who wants a cow  inside a dead body?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-4987635679819261971?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4987635679819261971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/02/catching-upall-thoughts-ive-been-too.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4987635679819261971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4987635679819261971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/02/catching-upall-thoughts-ive-been-too.html' title='Catching Up...all the thoughts I&apos;ve been too lazy to post'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2121410186025501813</id><published>2011-01-07T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T21:33:34.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The whole process of getting/fixing meat is like having another child. First, I have to pay a good chunk of money before I can take it home. I can't just let it sit in the fridge and take care of itself. I have to think up ways to help it reach its full potential and must sometimes get creative and then pamper and prepare it. If I care for it properly and wisely, it will turn out great. If I get careless or take shortcuts, it either won't turn out right or it will find itself in a wasteland of sorts. On top of all the other responsibilities in my life, meat has exhausted me. Maybe I'll be a vegetarian.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2121410186025501813?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2121410186025501813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/01/january-7.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2121410186025501813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2121410186025501813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2011/01/january-7.html' title='January 7'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7642709302797009783</id><published>2010-12-23T14:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T14:16:43.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 23</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 style="text-align: justify;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;If  I were dying and somebody else was there and there were at least 5  minutes, I'd ask them if we could hug each other and I'd sing, "I just  died in your arms tonight." If there were enough time, I'd write one  last verse detailing what it feels like to die in somebody's arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7642709302797009783?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7642709302797009783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7642709302797009783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7642709302797009783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-23.html' title='December 23'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1196588358596465811</id><published>2010-12-15T20:54:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T16:07:07.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The most innovative potty-training invention I can think of is to have some kind of special thermometer inside the toilet. Kids would love to make the temperature rise and I know a few adults that might find that on the fun side as well.&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/680252794542115921-1196588358596465811?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1196588358596465811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1196588358596465811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1196588358596465811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-16.html' title='December 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-9107748819958076097</id><published>2010-12-15T10:49:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T10:51:53.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 15</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think people use the phrase "common cents" because we're in a recession, that's why they don't say "common dollars." Why do we want everybody to have common cents though? Why can't people just have their own cents?&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/680252794542115921-9107748819958076097?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/9107748819958076097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9107748819958076097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9107748819958076097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-15.html' title='December 15'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5911919681547363020</id><published>2010-12-15T09:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:06:22.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 style="font-family: times new roman; text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;My  favorite part of the holiday season is seeing which candy I can give  the neighbors to choke on. There's something magical about hearing the  sirens, seeing those ambulance Christmas lights, and knowing I'm  responsible. I love the holidays!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-5911919681547363020?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5911919681547363020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5911919681547363020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5911919681547363020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-6.html' title='December 6'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-589575442754280449</id><published>2010-12-15T09:05:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:05:53.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 29</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I actually  don't think it's all that outlandish to need chapstick late at night,  walk to the junk drawer in the dark to get it, and accidentally apply  glue stick all over my lips. Chapstick might not be as irreplaceable as I  once thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-589575442754280449?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/589575442754280449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/november-29_15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/589575442754280449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/589575442754280449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/november-29_15.html' title='November 29'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-9018800180745182622</id><published>2010-12-15T09:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:05:07.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 26</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3  style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="UIStory_Message"&gt;A  web site just suggested that the perfect gift for neighbors is a coupon  book filled with offers for service, such as free house sitting. We  haven't met several of our neighbors yet and I think those ones would  especially enjoy that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-9018800180745182622?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/9018800180745182622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/november-26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9018800180745182622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9018800180745182622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/12/november-26.html' title='November 26'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3966223712066004148</id><published>2010-11-17T03:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T03:09:13.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;From inside my house, when leaves fall from the trees, their shadows  look like tiny little bodies falling from the roof and thudding to the  ground. I always want to run outside and see what happened. I listen for  the sirens but they never come. Are other leaves sent to the "morgue"  to identify their friends or family members? I'm amazed that everybody  just goes about their lives when there are piles of these dead "bodies"  all over the city. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3966223712066004148?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3966223712066004148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/11/november-17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3966223712066004148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3966223712066004148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/11/november-17.html' title='November 17'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2089259967676289443</id><published>2010-11-13T23:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T23:10:05.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 13</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6  style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Why  aren't there encores at funerals? Good music is good music and if  somebody performs a great song, I do believe the audience should stand  up, clap, scream a little, and demand more...and if this happens to occur at a funeral, well, who is it really bothering?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2089259967676289443?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2089259967676289443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/11/november-13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2089259967676289443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2089259967676289443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/11/november-13.html' title='November 13'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-904819832425117383</id><published>2010-10-27T17:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T17:08:34.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Do you think there are superheroes in the spider world? Perhaps a spider than can spin an uber web quickly is the equivalent of a human throwing a rope to the next building and swinging over. Are spiders that get killed while on a special mission martyrs?&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/680252794542115921-904819832425117383?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/904819832425117383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/904819832425117383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/904819832425117383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-27.html' title='October 27'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8471442951879477604</id><published>2010-10-20T21:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T21:43:38.867-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I enjoyed synchronized driving on the freeway with the hubby the other  night. We drove matching cars and did graceful harmonious hand and foot  motions out of the windows and sunroofs. Other vehicles didn't seem to fully appreciate or realize the art we were providing but it was there. It was there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8471442951879477604?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8471442951879477604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8471442951879477604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8471442951879477604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-20.html' title='October 20'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-9331497760837350</id><published>2010-10-11T20:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T20:15:34.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I was a kid, Mama took us for a lot of walks. She got so sick of  stopping for us to get rocks out of our shoes that she told us when  oysters get something irritating them, they just hold onto it for a  long, long time and it becomes a pearl so we should try to make a pearl,  too, and just keep walking. All these years later and when I got a rock  in my shoe this morning, I just kept walking and wondering what color  my pearl would turn out to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-9331497760837350?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/9331497760837350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9331497760837350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9331497760837350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-11.html' title='October 11'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1152991885210978018</id><published>2010-10-06T22:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T22:27:02.824-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 style="text-align: justify; font-weight: normal;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Nothing says, "I didn't get the dishes done" like eating ice cream on a plate with a fork...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1152991885210978018?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1152991885210978018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-6.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1152991885210978018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1152991885210978018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/10/october-6.html' title='October 6'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1110487489300172409</id><published>2010-09-23T16:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T16:30:03.540-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 23</title><content type='html'>Grandma only had 1 boyfriend...and she married him.&lt;br /&gt;Almost everybody I know went through several boyfriends before the wedding date.&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa worked one job. I think he called it a career.&lt;br /&gt;Almost everybody I know has been through enough jobs they have to think to count them all.&lt;br /&gt;Grandma has the same phone number she's had since moving into her house when my mom was 8 years old.&lt;br /&gt;We can't seem to keep the same phone number for more than 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;We sure seem like a restless generation...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1110487489300172409?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1110487489300172409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1110487489300172409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1110487489300172409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-23.html' title='September 23'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3401833354483694889</id><published>2010-09-17T18:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T18:37:39.580-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've heard of a makeup artist and I've heard of an escape artist. They  say people can be anything they want these days. I'd like to be a  makeup-escape artist. I will escape makeup artistically. Now how do I  get my own show?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3401833354483694889?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3401833354483694889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3401833354483694889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3401833354483694889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-17.html' title='September 17'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4817199954945295854</id><published>2010-09-10T11:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T11:06:13.416-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes things have a way of working out. Our son got potty-trained  just in time to return a big box of diapers, which gave us money to buy  my dad a birthday present. Life must be a circle of good luck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-4817199954945295854?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4817199954945295854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-10.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4817199954945295854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4817199954945295854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-10.html' title='September 10'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4096872560886178959</id><published>2010-09-09T12:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T12:48:26.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;The librarian's quirks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;-Had several conversations with herself, unless she thought she was conversing with the books...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;-Randomly mentioned cats-big cat lady...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;-She has a fun meter-there's a little fun to be had but when the meter's out, it is OUT-there will be no more fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;-Thinks a book makes an ideal best friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So sad...no book would  encourage you to jump off a bench in Wal-mart, doing a toe-touch on your  way down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="" style="" id="profile_status"&gt;&lt;span id="status_text"&gt;-Thinks trips to historical sites are a big adventure. Who needs Disneyland when there's the Liberty Bell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/680252794542115921-4096872560886178959?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4096872560886178959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-9.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4096872560886178959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4096872560886178959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-9.html' title='September 9'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8461560967253409532</id><published>2010-09-06T22:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T22:44:08.421-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3  style="text-align: justify;font-family:times new roman;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;I've  learned that sometimes in life you can't always ride your bicycle for  the whole day all over town with your seat belt on and the pedal to the  metal uphill both ways in the fast lane-that's too exhausting. You can,  however, sit on somebody else's handlebars and demand that they push you  around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8461560967253409532?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8461560967253409532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8461560967253409532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8461560967253409532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-6.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3751121052037372533</id><published>2010-09-02T01:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T01:17:05.642-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span id="profile_status"&gt;You know how you can tell that you're going to  lose at Solitaire but you keep playing anyway? There are NO aces and  you just keep thinking, "somehow this might work out" or that overused  phrase "you never know..." Well, guess what? You do know-You Will  Lose!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3751121052037372533?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3751121052037372533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3751121052037372533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3751121052037372533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/09/september-2.html' title='September 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8365997738415337580</id><published>2010-08-14T14:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T14:17:27.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;With chapstick flavors like strawberry, mint, watermelon, cherry ice, citrus blend, Dr. Pepper, and pina colada, I went in search of jalapeno chapstick. I've had no luck.&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/680252794542115921-8365997738415337580?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8365997738415337580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/08/today.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8365997738415337580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8365997738415337580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/08/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7945963900888896629</id><published>2010-08-04T23:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T23:52:22.981-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes I think I might be in love with Carbon Monoxide. When I spend a lot of time with him, he just seems to take my breath away. If we spend &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too &lt;/span&gt;much time together, I know I'll end up sleeping with him.&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/680252794542115921-7945963900888896629?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7945963900888896629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7945963900888896629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7945963900888896629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-4.html' title='August 4'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2468323162874913735</id><published>2010-07-16T15:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T15:32:38.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>July 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If I could obtain bruises in a slightly more strategic manner, I might actually start to look like I have a tan.&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/680252794542115921-2468323162874913735?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2468323162874913735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2468323162874913735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2468323162874913735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-16.html' title='July 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8439161854034144069</id><published>2010-07-05T23:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T23:36:54.231-06:00</updated><title type='text'>July 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know what every nursing home and senior living center is in desperate need of? A good paintball competition!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8439161854034144069?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8439161854034144069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-5.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8439161854034144069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8439161854034144069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-5.html' title='July 5'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5199333598382388906</id><published>2010-07-04T08:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T08:07:06.726-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maybe today's holiday should be known by two names. Not all citizens in this country are independent so those citizens should probably refer to it as "The Government is my Sugar Daddy Day".&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/680252794542115921-5199333598382388906?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5199333598382388906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/independence-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5199333598382388906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5199333598382388906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/independence-day.html' title='Independence Day'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4904284122307397346</id><published>2010-07-02T10:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T10:42:12.691-06:00</updated><title type='text'>July 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have a talent so raw, many naysayers claim it's not even a talent. I can make people feel uncomfortable. I tried out for a talent show and this is how it went:&lt;br /&gt;Judges: What talent will you be displaying for us today?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I can make people feel uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;Judges (looking confused): Okay, proceed.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (Harnessing my talent silently and using it on the audience, I just stood there using my talent for about 30 seconds and I'm fairly certain everybody from the audience to the judges was feeling quite uncomfortable)&lt;br /&gt;Judges: Um, you can sit down now. You shouldn't be in this competition-you didn't do anything.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you or did you not feel uncomfortable?&lt;br /&gt;Judges: You may sit now!&lt;br /&gt;People are afraid to even admit to the talent I have, a talent so strong that it's almost a superpower.&lt;br /&gt;Next talent competition contestant:&lt;br /&gt;Him: I can pee on myself but I have to turn around because it would feel disrespectful to pee in front of you...&lt;br /&gt;Judges: (Wild applause)&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/680252794542115921-4904284122307397346?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4904284122307397346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4904284122307397346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4904284122307397346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-2.html' title='July 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-9163197149085653679</id><published>2010-07-01T19:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T19:23:10.652-06:00</updated><title type='text'>July 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The more beat up the vehicle, the sweeter the driver. Isn't that right? Please go along with this thought because every time I sneak out to that heap knowing I have to drive it around town, this is the pep talk I give myself. I should get a bumper sticker that says, "Honk if you think I'm sweet." If nobody honked though, I'd have to come up with a new pep talk...&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/680252794542115921-9163197149085653679?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/9163197149085653679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9163197149085653679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/9163197149085653679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-1.html' title='July 1'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7216287280582331312</id><published>2010-06-30T23:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T23:46:05.773-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Why do restaurants make up cutesy words for foods? I know they name menu items these silly things just so they laugh when you ask for a "sconenut" or the "hula salad." Do they think you want to ask for "The Big Slab" or "The Texas Manhandler"? It would seem you should pick up an accent if you're going to order "The Ragin' Cajun" or a wrestling announcer's voice to order "The Gargantuan". Where I come from, you just want to ask for a hamburger and tell them what you want on it but some places want you to request things like the "Burnin' Love Burger" or say, "Give it to me animal style please." I didn't even know saying that to a stranger was legal! If pasta's your thing, you may have to ask for the "Tour of Italy" or if you want pizza, you could end up requesting a "Cable Car" or "Garlic Festival". All this writing about food is making me hungry. Maybe I should go get myself a "Rooty Tooty Fresh  'N Fruity" but if I feel like too much of a pansy saying that, I can  fall back on an order of "Viva La French Toast" from the same  establishment. Kids may have to order a "Funny Face" and seniors may  have to ask for a "Rise &amp;amp; Shine". Restaurant people, this is getting out of hand. Maybe I'll just cook at home to save myself some embarrassment. I sure hope I can find my recipe for "Great Auntie's Finger-Lickin'-Til-There's-Nothin'-Left-Stickin'-Chicken".&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/680252794542115921-7216287280582331312?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7216287280582331312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7216287280582331312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7216287280582331312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-30.html' title='June 30'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-423883920176194717</id><published>2010-06-15T15:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T15:16:52.631-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 15</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Over the weekend, I learned that my aunt has a racist dog. It got upset when some workers in the area were playing music in Spanish. My aunt got curious and told her son to speak Portuguese to the dog. The dog was really upset about that, too. The dog had no tolerance for differences. I guess it's time for a little diversity training for animals.&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/680252794542115921-423883920176194717?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/423883920176194717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/423883920176194717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/423883920176194717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-15.html' title='June 15'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8583981346541467724</id><published>2010-06-11T09:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T09:38:31.826-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't know everything about the law but I had heard you are supposed to serve an eviction notice when you have to kick somebody out of their home. Yesterday I decided to chop down a tree that wasn't too healthy thanks to all of the insect invaders who would party all day long there but nobody could seem to take care of the place and they just let it fall apart. I still wanted to follow the law though so I tried to show the bugs a little sign I'd made that said they had 10 minutes to re-locate. However, it seemed to be an illiterate group so I just made an announcement to them. I made it into a song because hearing bad news in a song always makes it seem like better news. It's funny though because it really took me closer to 45 minutes to cut that thing down so they had plenty of notice.&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/680252794542115921-8583981346541467724?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8583981346541467724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8583981346541467724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8583981346541467724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-11.html' title='June 11'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5233158249043246205</id><published>2010-06-03T09:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T09:32:55.602-06:00</updated><title type='text'>June 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What kind of bachelor party do men over 50 have? Do they sometimes invite their closest friends and meet up at the hospital for a group colonoscopy session? Talk about a cleanse before the big day! The invitations probably say, "Please attend my 'butt'chalor party..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-5233158249043246205?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5233158249043246205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5233158249043246205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5233158249043246205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-3.html' title='June 3'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1176819465219440338</id><published>2010-05-22T21:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T21:56:16.681-06:00</updated><title type='text'>May 22</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've never met a person that doesn't like movie theater popcorn-everybody likes it.  That's why my dilemma for what to give as a wedding present has now been solved.  Oh, I think the bride and groom will be so surprised and also happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1176819465219440338?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1176819465219440338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1176819465219440338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1176819465219440338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-22.html' title='May 22'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4465649087709684186</id><published>2010-05-21T22:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T22:34:15.076-06:00</updated><title type='text'>May 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The other day, my husband &amp;amp; I hunted around the house.  Both of us could smell the strong stench of insect killer but neither of us claimed to have sprayed it.  The awful aroma was overwhelming and I was deeply concerned for our well-being with all those chemicals in the air.  That's when my husband arrived upon the lilac-scented diffuser I'd purchased &amp;amp; set out the day before.  I think they got that smell wrong!!!  I'd just wrapped 3 of them for birthdays this month but I got to open all the presents and retrieve the smell of death.  I wonder what the company meeting was like before that product launch:&lt;br /&gt;Employee 1: I don't think we got this smell quite right.  In fact, your lifespan would probably be significantly reduced by sniffing this.&lt;br /&gt;Employee 2:  Well, we are on a deadline.  Let's just send it out how it is.&lt;br /&gt;Employee 3:  Don't add those scratch &amp;amp; sniff stickers to this batch or we'll never make any money!&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/680252794542115921-4465649087709684186?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4465649087709684186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4465649087709684186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4465649087709684186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-21.html' title='May 21'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-342308893832883060</id><published>2010-05-06T09:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T09:26:14.745-06:00</updated><title type='text'>May 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm really not a morning person like I used to be.  When seeing the boxes of Cheerios at the grocery store, I got annoyed because maybe people don't want a "bowl of cheer" in the morning, you know?  Maybe some mornings all we want to do is pour ourselves a big bowl of Suicidalos...&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/680252794542115921-342308893832883060?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/342308893832883060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/342308893832883060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/342308893832883060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-6.html' title='May 6'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1167339884613250505</id><published>2010-04-21T16:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:54:59.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'>April 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have a great tip for people short on time like me that want to take care of their yard but also exercise.  Try combining jogging and mowing the lawn.  It may become a new cross-training competition in the near future so watch for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1167339884613250505?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1167339884613250505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-21.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1167339884613250505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1167339884613250505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-21.html' title='April 21'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2294468364208079914</id><published>2010-04-15T14:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T14:11:42.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>April 15-Tax Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I think the federal government is one of the few "businesses" that doesn't have to send it's clients an itemized bill.  What are we paying for exactly?  Nobody knows yet we'll still just send the money to the big "mystery fund" just so we don't get thrown in jail.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Government tactics would never work in a marriage.  If I spent 15-25% of my husband's paycheck and couldn't tell him exactly where the money was going, things would get a little rocky.  Vague answers like, "A little went to education and a little went to help Susie because she's still unemployed and a little went to pay for some people who've never owned a home before to have a little help..." would not cut it.  But the government can get away with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Businesses could never get away with it either.  If businesses bullied people by telling them they had to pay or go to jail, even if they didn't understand what they were paying for, the whole barter system might once again be a thing of the present, not just the past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Government is smart, very smart and they keep things simple:  Just ask us to pay without any specifics and threaten to send us to jail if we don't.  Hire a few people to check and make sure people did what they were told, and reap the financial rewards of it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Happy Tax Day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2294468364208079914?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2294468364208079914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-15-tax-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2294468364208079914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2294468364208079914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-15-tax-day.html' title='April 15-Tax Day'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3489528028561610063</id><published>2010-04-14T00:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T00:17:50.527-06:00</updated><title type='text'>April 13</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I don't understand all this talk about retirement and 401(k)s.  We cash out the 401(k) every few years so we can take a good trip to Disneyland.  I assumed the whole concept was the government's way of encouraging us to take vacations since most of us don't save very well without a little help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3489528028561610063?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3489528028561610063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3489528028561610063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3489528028561610063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-13.html' title='April 13'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7558949076447600130</id><published>2010-04-01T20:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T21:27:07.305-06:00</updated><title type='text'>April Fools</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I can't believe all that's happened today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*One nephew won 25 tickets to the monster truck show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Another nephew had emergency surgery following his check-up today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My brother-in-law won U2 tickets and a trip to Europe to see them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My sister-in-law was on Good Morning America.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Another brother-in-law shot somebody in a prison fight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My mom went from being a legal secretary to being an attorney (the nice word for lawyers).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*A sister-in-law got her teeth knocked out doing a cartwheel at work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Another sis-in-law had the misfortune of needing an eye transplant when the Easter bunny stabbed her with a carrot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My brother was nominated for an honorary degree from a local university.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My sister's boyfriend fed penguins today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My sister's cat was featured on America's funniest home videos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*A sister-in-law's basement flooded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My brother finally booked a trip to Mexico.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Another brother hit a dog today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Two of my friends are pregnant.  One of them just had a baby girl a couple weeks ago but the doctors discovered there's a brother in the oven baking, ready to come out.  Will they still be considered twins if they're born a few weeks apart?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Another friend won the lottery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*My husband had an accident and may need surgery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*I made ice cream sandwiches for my friend and left all 57 of them on her doorstep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*A friend's mother just found her birth certificate and she's not 40 after all-she's only 37!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I took the liberty of posting all of this news on each person's facebook page.  If only there were more time in the day to share ALL of the news...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7558949076447600130?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7558949076447600130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-fools.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7558949076447600130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7558949076447600130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-fools.html' title='April Fools'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8031026168991316170</id><published>2010-03-31T10:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T10:42:40.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>March 31</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/S7N7Q3VIwHI/AAAAAAAAAD4/nTgt1iuMmoU/s1600/medication.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454839103336530034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/S7N7Q3VIwHI/AAAAAAAAAD4/nTgt1iuMmoU/s200/medication.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Why aren't pharmaceutical companies required to list the calories on their medications? Of most concern are liquid medications. Maybe knowing the calories could help make the final decision of whether or not to take the medication. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It would be interesting to know how many calories are in diet pills. Maybe it's only 5 calories or so but some of the girls obsessed with dieting that I've met might be deterred by just 5 calories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Maybe some people that overdose on cough syrup would really think twice if they knew that a bottle of syrup had 2,000 calories in it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8031026168991316170?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8031026168991316170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8031026168991316170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8031026168991316170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-31.html' title='March 31'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/S7N7Q3VIwHI/AAAAAAAAAD4/nTgt1iuMmoU/s72-c/medication.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-6208504324716965094</id><published>2010-03-27T23:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T00:10:11.808-06:00</updated><title type='text'>March 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The greatest trick I have learned about being around people when you don't know what to say is to brag.  This is particularly effective when you're around somebody you don't know very well.  You don't really have to think up new things to say.  Just listen to what they say and then top it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"That's the job I do, too...but I probably get paid more than you..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I used to drive a car like that but nobody was impressed so I upgraded..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I love to run, too, but I prefer to add push-ups at the same time, wouldn't want to be called lazy..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you run into the obstacle of another person not saying anything, a few ice breakers are:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I've always been so popular..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I get mistaken for a famous person all the time..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I've never been dumped, only done the dumping..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's surprising how those little tidbits can really jumpstart a long and meaningful friendship.  Just remember, the world may be full of friendly faces but none of them are as remarkable as yours and you should never be afraid to tell people more about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-6208504324716965094?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/6208504324716965094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/6208504324716965094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/6208504324716965094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-27.html' title='March 27'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-767706024210497221</id><published>2010-03-11T10:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T10:14:00.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I had shepherd's pie for dinner last night-holy yum!!!  I liked it so much I'm thinking of changing professions-sheep are kind of cute.  I have a relatively small yard but I guess that will make it easier to keep track of them.  I'll have to find other people in my community with sheep though so my sheep and their sheep can have play dates.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-767706024210497221?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/767706024210497221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/767706024210497221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/767706024210497221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-11.html' title='March 11'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7609610773993838537</id><published>2010-03-07T15:35:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T15:46:08.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     Gymnastics is the kind of sport that leaves so many unanswered questions.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     How did the first person discover &amp;amp; popularize the balance beam?  Did they have a few boards propped up on something and too much time on their hands and before you know it, they were inviting people over saying, "Look what I can do"?  And then did somebody say, "Well, that's nothin'-check THIS out" and they started the first balance beam competition?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     What do fellow gymnasts say to each other after a routine?  Do they say things like, "Wow, you sure are great at flipping"? or "I liked the way you went around and around on the bars"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     How does a male coach of female gymnastics get a wife?  How does a man tell a woman, "I want to guide cute, young girls who prance around in leotards and I want to do it in a very hands-on sort of way" and have her okay with that?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     Finally and perhaps the biggest question of all is this-would it be more difficult to be married to a man who's a gynecologist or a female gymnastics coach?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7609610773993838537?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7609610773993838537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-7.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7609610773993838537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7609610773993838537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-7.html' title='March 7'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-64601884817077379</id><published>2010-02-21T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T11:14:39.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nobody should feel like others wouldn't understand what they're going through.  That's why when somebody throws up and I smell it, I always start puking, too.  I think it really helps them.&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/680252794542115921-64601884817077379?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/64601884817077379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/64601884817077379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/64601884817077379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-21.html' title='February 21'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2036070091637404325</id><published>2010-02-18T21:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T21:13:45.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February 18</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If you add just one tiny little extra "R" to scared, you get scarred.  Neither one is good but which one is worse?&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/680252794542115921-2036070091637404325?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2036070091637404325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2036070091637404325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2036070091637404325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-18.html' title='February 18'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8128896681175588162</id><published>2010-02-04T22:45:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T22:50:36.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've been thinking I like chili.  For years I've thought chili is a delicious food.  Have you ever tried a bite of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;plain&lt;/span&gt; chili?  Oh wow!  That stuff is nasty!  That stuff is horrendous.  What I think I like is cheese and sour cream...that's what's had me fooled into thinking I like chili for all these years. &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/680252794542115921-8128896681175588162?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8128896681175588162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8128896681175588162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8128896681175588162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-4.html' title='February 4'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-4286987849303596279</id><published>2010-01-28T22:37:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T22:46:40.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've noticed now there is pressure even on TVs to be thin!!!  TVs have come a long way in the last few years.  It's amazing the inches we've trimmed but it's just never enough, is it?  Now we have to have the "ultra" slim because slim is just not cutting it.  When TVs feel the need to be anorexic, I'm concerned.  Some of those poor TVs try saying, "I can't help it.  I was born big and I've been on the big side my whole life" while the starving TVs ignore them and their sorry "excuses."  At least TVs of all sizes can live vicariously through cheeseburger commercials!&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/680252794542115921-4286987849303596279?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/4286987849303596279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-28.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4286987849303596279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/4286987849303596279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-28.html' title='January 28'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-23029313873226766</id><published>2010-01-17T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T07:10:42.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It took having major abdominal surgery for me to realize how much everybody seems to brag with their body language. These are some of the body language messages I've received:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Look at me!  I can stretch my arms all the way behind my head without breaking.  Ha ha-you can't."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-"Wow, I can't believe how incredibly comfortable it feels to just lie right down on my back and know that I will be able to get up again, too."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-"I'm better than you because I walk standing straight up and at a youthful pace while you are bent and slower than my grandma."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One day when I'm healed, I will find somebody weaker than me so I can brag with my body language, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-23029313873226766?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/23029313873226766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/23029313873226766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/23029313873226766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-17.html' title='January 17'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8863944479642535357</id><published>2010-01-16T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T13:22:15.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Experts say that REM sleep is important and very good for you. Sometimes when I just haven't managed to get a good night's rest, I like to close my eyes and move them back and forth rapidly under my eyelids so I can try to reap some REM benefits without the sleep. I think it helps me feel a little more energized.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8863944479642535357?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8863944479642535357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8863944479642535357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8863944479642535357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-16.html' title='January 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7751765781408308053</id><published>2010-01-15T12:15:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T12:16:57.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 15</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My new year's resolution last year was to stop licking my fingers off when I was eating or baking.  I didn't change another thing and I lost 92 pounds!  Sometimes it's the simple things that really make the difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7751765781408308053?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7751765781408308053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7751765781408308053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7751765781408308053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-15.html' title='January 15'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3177787843213921963</id><published>2010-01-14T15:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T15:12:54.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 14</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Did you ever think about hair "fall"icles?  No wonder why hair falls out!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3177787843213921963?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3177787843213921963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-14.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3177787843213921963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3177787843213921963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-14.html' title='January 14'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2586864079159247194</id><published>2010-01-12T23:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T23:25:18.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tonight we gathered for a family party and I learned a very important lesson there:  No matter how old I've grown, I'm never too old to damage my parent's things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2586864079159247194?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2586864079159247194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-12.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2586864079159247194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2586864079159247194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-12.html' title='January 12'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-610317942099841576</id><published>2010-01-04T22:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T22:14:31.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>January 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mmm...cereal mixed with melted marshmallows and margarine is, in theory, the perfect way to use up all kinds of cereal that otherwise doesn't get eaten-Rice Krispies, Cheerios, Corn Flakes.  I can't wait to make Grape Nuts treats!&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/680252794542115921-610317942099841576?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/610317942099841576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/610317942099841576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/610317942099841576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-4.html' title='January 4'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1297816251178959708</id><published>2009-12-25T17:57:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T16:43:02.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Is there any place that produces scratch &amp;amp; sniff Christmas cards? That might be another fun way to send a greeting.  Nothing says "enjoy the holidays" like the smell of cinnamon pinecones or "good luck at that family party" like the scent of eggnog.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1297816251178959708?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1297816251178959708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1297816251178959708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1297816251178959708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7286969951424993730</id><published>2009-12-19T09:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T09:45:41.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Last night I was in the mood for a French dip sandwich.  We didn't have any roast beef though so I replaced the meat and I didn't feel like making au jus so I replaced that, too.  What we ended up with was French-ish dip-ish sandwiches.&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/680252794542115921-7286969951424993730?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7286969951424993730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7286969951424993730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7286969951424993730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-19.html' title='December 19'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8802088392500112929</id><published>2009-12-18T17:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T17:29:14.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 18</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hug-a-Cashier Day did not go well for me.  I think it's one of those holidays that was all fine and good before the sexual harrassment education that's been going around.  Saying no to sexual harrassment is one sure way to ruin the fun.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8802088392500112929?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8802088392500112929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8802088392500112929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8802088392500112929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-18.html' title='December 18'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7014621259126219777</id><published>2009-12-16T13:02:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T09:39:18.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know how most fast food places give you napkins when you get your food or leave them available to you while you're eating?  I was just wondering what the social limitations are on  taking those napkins.  Paper towels and tissues get expensive and free napkins would be one way to cut costs.  How many napkins can you really get away with taking before it's considered thievery???  You are supposed to leave the dispenser, right?&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/680252794542115921-7014621259126219777?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7014621259126219777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7014621259126219777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7014621259126219777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-16.html' title='December 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3483378384273802239</id><published>2009-12-10T21:50:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T22:06:19.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 10th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SyHRUeLH1vI/AAAAAAAAADo/96GHtlm-qG0/s1600-h/christmas+card.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413838376703350514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SyHRUeLH1vI/AAAAAAAAADo/96GHtlm-qG0/s200/christmas+card.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SyHTDhoJkRI/AAAAAAAAADw/1gwRIXZ_7hc/s1600-h/christmas+card-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413840284595884306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SyHTDhoJkRI/AAAAAAAAADw/1gwRIXZ_7hc/s200/christmas+card-1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd like to make scratch-off Christmas cards. The first circle can be the message, such as Merry Christmas. To keep the fun train moving, they can even go on to scratch off a square revealing a family picture underneath. Who doesn't like to scratch things off? Christmas scratching cards...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3483378384273802239?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3483378384273802239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-10th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3483378384273802239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3483378384273802239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-10th.html' title='December 10th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SyHRUeLH1vI/AAAAAAAAADo/96GHtlm-qG0/s72-c/christmas+card.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8695859671078509704</id><published>2009-12-09T09:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T09:20:14.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today, I switched my jeans and a T-shirt for a brightly colored adult-sized cotton jumper.  I have gigantic red floppy shoes on and a multi-colored wig.  My face is painted white while my eyes and lips and cheeks are colorful.  I have a big spongy red nose, a pocket full of balloons, and a brain full of bad jokes to tell, as well as a nametag that says BOZO.  I guess I'm trying to do my part on this Walk in That Weirdo's Shoes Day.  Seriously, these shoes are huge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8695859671078509704?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8695859671078509704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-9.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8695859671078509704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8695859671078509704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-9.html' title='December 9'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1957473160262215051</id><published>2009-11-30T16:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T16:45:10.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sometimes it's tough to fight generalizations.  The other day I was stopped at a red light behind a car from Nebraska and they would inch up every few seconds, eager to get going again.  I couldn't help but tell everybody I saw by the end of the night what a hurry Nebraskans always seem to be in.  No matter how much proof I have to contradict myself, I can't seem to shake the belief that all blacks have a little Aretha Franklin trying to get out.  I really assume it is a birthright for blacks to have a good voice.  No matter how many times I see them kicked off American Idol with good cause, I can't shake this generalization.  I also can't resist the urge to ask my neighbors if they could sing for me.  Sure, it makes things a little awkward, but if they'd just sing instead of call the cops on me, I think I would have all the proof I really need to back up my beliefs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1957473160262215051?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1957473160262215051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1957473160262215051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1957473160262215051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-30.html' title='November 30'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1059436491096389992</id><published>2009-11-26T23:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T23:45:30.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;If I were to have really good pie, I would try not to rub it in your face.&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/680252794542115921-1059436491096389992?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1059436491096389992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1059436491096389992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1059436491096389992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3016998950138662398</id><published>2009-11-11T18:24:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T10:01:40.515-06:00</updated><title type='text'>November 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Poor letter "Y". It was born a consonant but sometimes it just feels like a vowel inside. Sometimes when it does express the vowel inside, people make comments like, "Wow! Y is sure flambuoyant!" What's a Y to do? A part of Y is comfortable being a consonant but the vowel side makes Y feel alive. It's the only letter without a conviction in its full identity. It's misunderstood by all of the other letters in the alphabet, all letters that have fully chosen a path, either a vowel or a consonant. Lonely little Y is in limbo. Poor letter "Y". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3016998950138662398?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3016998950138662398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-11.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3016998950138662398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3016998950138662398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-11.html' title='November 11'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7056173213616492825</id><published>2009-11-08T15:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T15:45:31.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A money saving tip: When your deoderant wears out and the plastic starts scraping your armpits, you can use a pointed nail file to gouge out all those extra little pieces and save them, along with one deoderant container. After saving deoderant tidbits from 5-6 deoderants, melt them in the microwave, pour into the container.  Put a paper towel on a fridge shelf and set the deoderant on top until it sets again-voila!  It's like buying 5 deoderants and getting 1/2 of one free!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7056173213616492825?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7056173213616492825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-8.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7056173213616492825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7056173213616492825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-8.html' title='November 8'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7985485716181574354</id><published>2009-11-02T14:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T14:12:58.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was just talking with my brother about the good old days.  He said, "Dimetapp was so good as a kid that I felt like I could almost drink a bottle of it."  I got an old-fashioned case of the giggles as I recalled how much Dimetapp I went through.  Sometimes it felt like my mom didn't give me enough and we didn't have too many treats growing up so when she'd leave the room, I'd get a little sandwich bag and dump half the bottle in, tie a knot, and take myself a little recess treat.  My dad was in the military and back then they'd give us a certain number of bottles of it for free every month.  I could hardly wait for a new month, which meant Treat Time!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;P.S.  For some strange reason, I won't buy my kids Dimetapp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7985485716181574354?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7985485716181574354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-2.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7985485716181574354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7985485716181574354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-2.html' title='November 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1606611886540553776</id><published>2009-10-27T14:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T14:41:01.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The world is a merry-go-round and I just can't stomach this constant turning about so if we meet up socially and I accidentally upchuck all over you, at least you got an explanation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-1606611886540553776?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1606611886540553776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1606611886540553776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1606611886540553776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-27.html' title='October 27'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2635682572155531199</id><published>2009-10-19T22:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T22:40:52.464-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 19th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sometimes it feels like Coca-Cola really needs a new strategy.  Instead of always marketing how refreshing their cola is or how it's nice to drink a cold one on a hot day, they should introduce it as the new fall &amp;amp; winter warm-up solution.  They could have an eskimo walk in saying, "Can anybody tell me where I can find a boiling hot Coke?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2635682572155531199?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2635682572155531199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-19th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2635682572155531199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2635682572155531199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-19th.html' title='October 19th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3451870890057272413</id><published>2009-10-16T20:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T20:23:32.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 16th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Rustic" is a magical word.  It can turn something that doesn't function properly or something that's wearing out into something better with nothing more than its six little letters.  A historic building's elevator that is quite rickety and seems like a safety hazard suddenly becomes nothing more than an adventure when it's described as being "rustic."  A building that has crumbling bricks and sidewalks is suddenly a cozy reminder of a long life when it's described as being "rustic."  What I can't figure out is why when we try to sell our "rustic" vehicle, there does not seem to be much interest.  I guess even magic has its limitations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3451870890057272413?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3451870890057272413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-16th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3451870890057272413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3451870890057272413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-16th.html' title='October 16th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-5092921286428760907</id><published>2009-10-15T23:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T23:28:23.027-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 15th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My husband ended up with sore biceps after a trip to the gym-I think he’s troubled by his biceptual tendencies...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-5092921286428760907?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/5092921286428760907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-15th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5092921286428760907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/5092921286428760907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-15th.html' title='October 15th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2026884592148883981</id><published>2009-10-09T19:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T19:36:22.178-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 9th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I tend to find fairytales quite disturbing.  Today I'm distraught over Sleeping Beauty.  Here's a girl that's passed out because of some "magic spell" or whatever the kids are calling it these days.  She's supposedly rescued by a strange man who sees her completely unconscious but he also thinks she's hot so he has no qualms or reservations about kissing her while she's out cold.  Where I come from, that's just creepy, not romantic.  Next time you hear about a girl being drugged with a roofie, don't steer her to the police, tell her this may be her chance to win Prince Phillip's heart!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-2026884592148883981?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2026884592148883981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-9th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2026884592148883981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2026884592148883981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-9th.html' title='October 9th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8065772103383770704</id><published>2009-10-08T23:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T23:17:05.526-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 8th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm sure everybody's heard the saying, "What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall..."  I'd like to change things up to "What I wouldn't give to be a watch on their hand..."  That's where the real dirt is you know.  If you don't believe me, try cleaning a watch that somebody's been wearing for a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8065772103383770704?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8065772103383770704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-8th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8065772103383770704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8065772103383770704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-8th.html' title='October 8th'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7162905836004607702</id><published>2009-10-02T15:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T15:12:55.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I feel so unlady-like when I eat a sandwich:  shoving bites in my mouth, really having to chew to swallow without choking, even just trying to keep the sandwich insides from falling out.  Today at a little sandwich shop, I tried to pick 3 beautiful women to watch eat a sandwich.  I happily concluded there is just no lady-like way to eat a sandwich.  Ta-da!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7162905836004607702?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7162905836004607702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7162905836004607702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7162905836004607702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-2.html' title='October 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3730637182514643531</id><published>2009-10-01T00:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T00:33:27.902-06:00</updated><title type='text'>October 1st</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Women go around carrying all kinds of junk in their purse.  The only thing anybody REALLY needs is a gun.  I have some examples:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"Oh I got all these groceries &amp;amp; realized I forgot money but I do have this..." (gun emerges with fingers on the trigger)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I realize that you were in line before me.  If only there were some way for me to get in front of you since I'm in a hurry.  Well, I do have this..."  (gun emerges with fingers on the trigger)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I didn't bring my gym membership card.  I actually don't even have a membership to this gym but I do have this..."  (gun emerges with fingers on the trigger)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I don't really like your opinion.  I think you should agree with me.  If you don't, maybe this will change your mind..."  (gun emerges with fingers on the trigger)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I told you to leave me alone.  Maybe this could convince you..."  (gun emerges with fingers on the trigger)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Guns are kind of like a jack of all trades.  They are really quite persuasive and helpful in all situations.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3730637182514643531?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3730637182514643531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-1st.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3730637182514643531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3730637182514643531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-1st.html' title='October 1st'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8097400659291932414</id><published>2009-09-16T21:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T21:17:50.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I haven't been watching much TV but now that there's some buzz about the new shows for the fall season, I've been curious about what's on and when.  I started wondering why I haven't seen that weekly TV show guide in the Sunday paper because then I could just flip through it to easily see what's on.  That's when I realized I haven't gotten a Sunday paper in several years.  Funny how you can go years without something and never miss it but then one day, bam!  I feel like I had so many good times with that weekly TV programming guide and I wish it were around and if it called me at 2 a.m. I would answer and even sneak downstairs to talk to it...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8097400659291932414?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8097400659291932414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8097400659291932414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8097400659291932414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-16.html' title='September 16'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8859778270819504506</id><published>2009-09-07T22:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:20:19.771-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Healthcare seems to be all the buzz these days.  I'd like to start seeing medical menus.  You would then hear questions such as:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"Does your &lt;strong&gt;labor&lt;/strong&gt; and delivery come with a side of infant care and evaluation?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"How much should I tip for a colonoscopy?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I'd like to get an ultrasound but could you please go easy on the gel?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"How much extra is it to supersize the birth control?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"Which day do you offer 2-for-1 vaccinations?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"Can I order a hysterectomy ala-carte or does it have to be included in the hospital package?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-"I'd like to order a doctor evaluation with a side of testing and some results for dessert."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8859778270819504506?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8859778270819504506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/labor-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8859778270819504506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8859778270819504506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7533927366241083104</id><published>2009-09-02T22:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T22:35:25.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When you get embarrassed, does your nationality change?  What about your birthday?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7533927366241083104?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7533927366241083104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7533927366241083104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7533927366241083104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-2.html' title='September 2'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-8217830149784681096</id><published>2009-09-01T22:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T22:51:20.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>September 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Did you know that Malawi used to be known as Nyasaland?  Did you know that Malawi has both widespread religious views as well as widespread cases of HIV?  I don't know if the two are related but this message has been brought to you as part of Appreciate a Third World Country Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-8217830149784681096?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/8217830149784681096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8217830149784681096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/8217830149784681096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-1.html' title='September 1'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-2237711814798744899</id><published>2009-08-28T13:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T13:15:42.421-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August 28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Rotting food is like a bitter ex.  It seems to shout out, "Fine!!!  Go ahead and leave me but I am going to cause a huge stink as I go."  It never really gets over it either.  It just lets the separation eat away at it until there's nothing left.&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/680252794542115921-2237711814798744899?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/2237711814798744899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2237711814798744899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/2237711814798744899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-28.html' title='August 28'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-1978715272546923036</id><published>2009-08-27T15:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T15:19:08.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Onions never apologize.  They don't say, "I'm sorry if I was too forward.  Please forgive me for overpowering you."  They are just the strong and confident creations they were born to be.  I like that.&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/680252794542115921-1978715272546923036?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/1978715272546923036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1978715272546923036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/1978715272546923036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-27.html' title='August 27'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-7277907189194961640</id><published>2009-08-25T21:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T21:57:00.841-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August 25</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Every time I lose a pound or two (on my quest to drop about 30 pounds), my husband surrounds me with heavenly junk like Pepsi &amp;amp; restaurant food and more Pepsi.  I say, "But I just started losing weight!" and his reply is, "No wife of mine should be a loser."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-7277907189194961640?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/7277907189194961640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-25.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7277907189194961640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/7277907189194961640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-25.html' title='August 25'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-680252794542115921.post-3144848218468162438</id><published>2009-08-21T13:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T13:55:27.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>August 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A bargain-hunter's high is like a runner's high...except it doesn't come with any physical benefits...and it also costs more!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/680252794542115921-3144848218468162438?l=jillfootey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/feeds/3144848218468162438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-21.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3144848218468162438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/680252794542115921/posts/default/3144848218468162438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jillfootey.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-21.html' title='August 21'/><author><name>Jill Footey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14119123484399044696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hnScQXxPUEk/SnfMIm5w8dI/AAAAAAAAACI/-Y5u7cwV238/S220/udderly+crying.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
