<?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-4384383955361125754</id><updated>2012-02-15T22:59:06.386-08:00</updated><category term='space'/><category term='sky'/><category term='mind'/><category term='monogamy'/><category term='reality'/><category term='polygamy'/><category term='leather'/><category term='guys'/><category term='four stars'/><category term='grownups'/><category term='jealousy'/><category term='tits'/><category term='dream'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='art'/><category term='school'/><category term='philosophy'/><category term='repeat'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='train'/><category term='time'/><category term='life'/><category term='effie'/><category term='homework'/><category term='toyboy'/><category term='sex'/><category term='bisexuality'/><category term='people'/><category term='clothes'/><category term='family'/><category term='skins'/><category term='sbs'/><category term='social conditioning'/><category term='design'/><category term='shoplifting'/><category term='sexuality'/><category term='teenager'/><category term='model'/><category term='love'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='lust'/><title type='text'>this is not a blog title</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-1742685791776564913</id><published>2009-05-06T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T23:57:35.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bleh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;when i woke up could hear my grandpa making mumbly noises downstairs. he called my name a few times. i was kind of half asleep then half awake. it was ten o clock. no school today. had to decide: stay at home and watch movies, or go to the city? the door slammed, grandpa left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;had spent last night til late just looking at myspace profiles. felt sad. i dont know. i miss someone. i felt like a loser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i feel like a loser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;on the bright side i watched cashback. which i really liked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i left at about eleven thirty and got to brunswick st. the skyline was foggy and grey. i felt really depressed. i didnt even feel like stealing anything. was questioning the point of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i went to an asian grocery and stole some japanese saki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;my skirt kept riding up so i had to kept pushing it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;there was some sale happening, there were like cheap monday jeans, levis, sass and bide, for really cheap like 20-90 price range. i shoved some shorts down my jacket. there was a great bag but it was huge. i should have drank the saki and just stolen the bag because it was epic and i needed a bigger bag to go stealing with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;but i left because i felt really paranoid like people were staring at me, or through me, or something. some good stuff was tagged, but then i was questioning the point of having all this stuff. i was kind of sick of stealing. i was kind of sick of getting 'stuff.' i thought i had enough 'stuff.' my head was feeling a little light. i couldnt tell whether i was hot or cold. i got some kookai dress by shoving that down my coat too. ill probably wear it to formal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;so then i walked for a bit. the weather kept changing. i kept pulling my skirt down. i went to smith st. i was staring at everyone that walked past. i was in this strange starey mood. i wasnt really thinking anything much. i wasnt really going anywhere. i wandered into a few stores. everything was tagged. i didnt want anything. i went into a bookstore and got some art book. i thought of all the art books and magazines i had stolen over the past month. i hadnt even had a chance to look at them properly. i thought i might start staying home more and being productive. i cant decide whether to pursue a career in design or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i went and BOUGHT a grilled pork roll from some bakery. after i ate it i still felt light headed and bit sick. i realised i was thirsty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i went and stole some ice tea from safeway. i shoved it down my sleeve. it beeped when i went out and they checked my bag. then i couldnt open it. i thought i felt sick maybe because i was dehydrated. there was a security guard at the ANZ bag. i asked him to open it. he cracked a joke about charging me and that i must be thirsty the way i guzzled my drink down. then he made a comment about my t shirt which had a comic on it. i thought it was nice of him to talk to me. but i was feeling kind of introverted and self conscious, so i smiled and nodded. he walked away and i felt sad, because sometimes when i feel social its nice to talk to strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;so i went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;grandpa was standing outside my house for some reason. i dont know what he was doing. i think he is bored looking after me and my cousins while our parents are in europe. he chuckled when i greeted him by patting his back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i put on the karaoke machine for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i thought i might start on my history revolutions notes. i couldnt be bothered learning about 1792.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i feel all sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i might go watch requiem for a dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i had accidently left my mobile home. i had 2 missed calls and one text. my friend had called me to hang out just as i got on the bus home. i felt sad about that. i would have liked some company. my friend called me on the home phone and we chatted for about half an hour about typical teenage stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i still feel like shit, and a bit sore in places. i hate everyone and everything. i cant be bothered with homework. im going to go watch a movie. i cant be bothered cookign dinner. im pretty sure im going to lose weight by the time mum and dad get back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-1742685791776564913?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/1742685791776564913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/bleh.html#comment-form' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/1742685791776564913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/1742685791776564913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/bleh.html' title='bleh'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-8786199399685871042</id><published>2009-05-05T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T18:06:26.913-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toyboy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='design'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social conditioning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoplifting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grownups'/><title type='text'>social conditioning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;last night -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- went to design conference at the arts center in the city. it was a mini conference for year 12 students looking to do design, it was better then average teen watching - all the art/design fags were out and about. saw some great outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;- read '&lt;a href="http://www.randomhouse.com.au/Books/Default.aspx?Page=Book&amp;amp;ID=9781741667189"&gt;TOYBOY&lt;/a&gt;.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basically written by a 40 year old women trying to be a man and realising she's not a man. oh der. i hope when im 40 im not going around screwing toyboys in the hope they will love me. like fuck, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;arent grown ups meant to be in fucking control &lt;/span&gt;of themselves by then? this woman has had 40 fucking years to get her act together but no, shes going around letting guys whip her and tie her up. and waiting for them to email back. where are all the novels about 40 year old women being wise, sure of themselves, and actually doing something with their lives? this book made me so angry. that said, the BDSM sex scenes were pretty steamy. that cheered me up. then i got angry again. you know why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its just another one of those 'society myths.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;a list of horrible society myths which fuck people up and are totally untrue&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;1. all grown ups are happy and know exactly what theyre doing.&lt;br /&gt;2. hard work can get you anywhere (not true. luck is a major factor. and intelligence. beauty helps too. and particularly people skills. that can get you places.)&lt;br /&gt;3. you will find the right man, marry him, and be happy forever more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, some 'society myths' encourage peoples behaviour positively and can create a good environment for us to live in, such as 'do not steal.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have such trouble trying to seperate what i feel ive been brainwashed to believe and what i actually do believe/need. so that is when i convince myself of things contrary to my true desire (which i question is ACTUALLY my desire or not?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not sure if 'society myth' is the right word for it and i think i need to go do alot of reading on anthropology and social conditioning. ill get back to you on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-8786199399685871042?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/8786199399685871042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/social-conditioning.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/8786199399685871042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/8786199399685871042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/social-conditioning.html' title='social conditioning'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-3125759167112552637</id><published>2009-05-04T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T00:12:16.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why are gobstoppers chewy now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;well yo. im fair disappointed, i passed by melbourne central coles and got:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;- red bull&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;- v energy drink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;- no doze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;- black licorice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;- gobstoppers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;now remember gobstoppers back in the day? they were hard and took fucking ages to get to the inner layer, and each layer was a different colour, and we slip the gobstoppers out of our mouths and compare colours with sticky fingers. anyway, the packet says 'chewy' and theyre fucking chewy. its insane. im halfway through the packet already. what has the world come to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i was in the food court at mc (as the cool kids abbrev it) and suddenly saw my 27 year old cousin. she immediately bought me sushi and sat me down then interrogated me without mercy. she now knows things about me even my own sister doesnt, which is kind of sad, but my bigger sister never bothered asking. anyway, there was some short fat guy with a moustache sitting next to us that also knows things about me most of my friends dont. so she gave me some wise advice about how people when theyre young just want to 'have fun' and fuck around and etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;well im over having fuck, and funning around. at the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;you know what? theres so many empty brick walls in my area. good old eastern suburbs. im going to draw something on a large piece of thin butcher paper tonight and pva it to a wall about 12 ish tonight, or maybe tommorow night. dont know who would do it with me, though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;what else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i hate everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i stole another shitload of books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i always steal black socks, patterned stockings, candy and books. now i have alot of books and stockings. books to wear. stockings to read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;lately ive been getting into the whole t shirt thing. like t shirts with arty prints/comic strip/band t shirts. i used to wear singlets all the time but im really liking this t shirt thing.&lt;br /&gt;im not missing my parents yet. i hope they have fun in europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-3125759167112552637?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/3125759167112552637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-are-gobstoppers-chewy-now.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/3125759167112552637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/3125759167112552637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-are-gobstoppers-chewy-now.html' title='why are gobstoppers chewy now?'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-4457852338524807736</id><published>2009-05-02T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T21:03:35.810-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='space'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='philosophy'/><title type='text'>the world around us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;for the last half hour or so, have just been browsing through peoples blogs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;had an argument with someone the other day about the concept of art. i was saying that art is anything produced by a human. because anything produced by a human whether it is even just a singular sentence... is so unique in its creation... in its past... in its singularity... in its utterly permanent place in time and space... becomes art... in a way, its very own masterpiece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;and i realise that this theory of mine crops up in practically all facets of my life... the way i try to emphasize with everyone. the other day walking home from school, i walked with this girl who has mild cerebal palsy. but shes still a sweet girl. and this guy who has some form of learning disability. people ignore them. they think other people actually care whether they talk to them or not. we must have looked a strange trio. they are more honest, then most people. i'm not sure what i mean... maybe because they observe others often during social interactions, rather being in the midst of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;anyway in a way, all the blogs that i've looked at. are art in their own way. even if theyre about something as mundane as something they did last night.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i just imagine all the people in this world like ants on this sphere just wandering around lost. what are we doing here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-4457852338524807736?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/4457852338524807736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/world-around-us.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/4457852338524807736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/4457852338524807736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/world-around-us.html' title='the world around us'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-5593206856226020363</id><published>2009-05-02T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T19:56:32.868-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sbs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='four stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>lust not love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;last night my cousin came over and we watched&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; four star on sbs&lt;/span&gt;... it was a really shit, not funny, un romantic french film, which was described as a 'romantic comedy.' the guy was ugly, nasty, immature, manipulative and temperamental, the girl was annoying, needy, stupid and insecure and we hated them both. also, their characters kept doing things that didnt make sense with the way their personalities were established. the dialogue was inane, the plot/premise was senseless and idiotic. the ending was horribly predictable. it was an utter waste of time and space. we ended up throwing pillows at the television and analysing my love/sex life instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;the relationships i have with boys, including that of platonic friendship, are split into three camps:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1. utterly needy and dependent, willing to sacrifice all for me, totally obsessed (my last two ex boyfriends) and also really psychotic and anti social.. i was watching this show on ABC once, and this shrink was saying we sometimes put ourselves through the same traumatic experience in order to 'fix' it the second time around, if so, this was a classic case of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2. guys who only want sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3. guys who are my friends and may want to have sex with me but whom i will never have sex with. just because i utterly hate guys like that. and i get fooled again and again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;someone said in a facebook status update the other day&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; 'guys fuck with girls but girls know guys are fucking with them and they fuck them back without them knowing so it makes girls worse'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;well i suppose girls know guys may be literally fucking them around so why wouldnt they fuck them back just in case thats all the guy wants? is it? surely not all guys are that emotionally cold. surely they want someone to mother them and need them. or is it a rejection of another maternal relationship in their life? what about guys with no mothers? how does that affect their relationships, without a core model to follow (that of your parents relationship, which you may accept as normal but later realise it is, or otherwise realise it for what it is)...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;anyway, my current confusion over the guy i am shagging goes as thus: we started as friends, then we screwed. past experience with guys ive screwed usually means theyll start being cold to me or really sleazy and constantly want to continue screwing me. this guy, whoever, is still really nice, calls or talks to me on msn quite often about regular things, etc. i really liked him at one point and wanted him to be my boyfriend, etc. then questioned the notion of open relationships... then now i just dont know. i realise he doesnt fit into any of my previous relationships with boys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;he is not needy at all, he does not appear obsessive. hes very calm and laid back. other times, i feel he is distant because he doesnt ever pour out his heart or sound insecure. ever. my cousin pointed out he may just be shy. im too shy to ask the usual bold questions that i do. if i could ask him anything i wanted, i would ask him how he really felt about me, and what i meant to him. i dont want him to say the world and everything and be with me forever. but at least, i dont know, feel some sort of similar confusion. or care about me. it makes me want to be utterly nasty to him to see if he still wants to talk to be. or is he only being nice for sex? but i want sex too, so its confusing. i really dont know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;but &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;last night, i had this dream.&lt;/span&gt; i dreamt we were at a party, and i was following him around, and he was ignoring me. he finally turned around and yelled at me 'what dyou want? i dont want you anymore! fuck off! cant you read?' and he pointed at his t shirt. on the side, there was a profile of two girls, the two girls he was currently shagging. i understood that i was no longer on his shirt. it summarised their interests and had their picture as well. i was disgusted with the way he seemed to like collecting art-fag like girls to fuck then throw away once he got sick of it. on the other side of the t shirt, there was his number and a rude paragraph saying 'i only want sex so if thats all you want, call this number.' and then the slogan&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; 'lust, not love.'&lt;/span&gt; and then it said 'fuck off' and i knew the fuck off was for me. he glared at me and walked off, but i followed him some more. i saw him hook up with another girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;then my dream changed and i was at school. my teachers were telling me i was going to get C's. i was crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;at school i haven't got anything lower then an A this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;its 1pm now. im seeing a friend at 2pm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;i still have to study for a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;over and out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-5593206856226020363?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/5593206856226020363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/lust-not-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/5593206856226020363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/5593206856226020363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/lust-not-love.html' title='lust not love'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-2937931673099048273</id><published>2009-05-01T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T04:41:19.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>msn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/Sfrfp2CO2uI/AAAAAAAAACA/fsYZIcO96Fk/s1600-h/100_1187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/Sfrfp2CO2uI/AAAAAAAAACA/fsYZIcO96Fk/s320/100_1187.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330819018918910690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;[some alleyway somewhere with my camera sometime.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the role of msn in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate it alot sometimes, because its flashing away on my toolbar just to get some inane, generic greeting like like hey hey how are you good how are you good what you been up to nothing much you yeah i admit ive been guilty of doing that. break out of the cycle. this guy i talk to never ceases to amaze me with the intruiging shit he spouts on msn. when he flashes i dont mind.&lt;br /&gt;another thing - people who feel the urge to say '??' or 'you there???' when you obviously havent replied yet, as if them saying this will make you answer faster...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;id like to share his strangeness with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:14 PM) -:    yeah opinions are assholes because no one likes someone else's but everybody has one&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    accordign to my friend, when he touches his nipple he gets nostalgic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    HE TOUCHES HIS NIPPLE BECAUSE HE IS A STRANGE GUY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    he said that it reminds him of russia in the summertime&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    and i'm like&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:27 PM) -:    there is no summertime in russia&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:00 PM) -:    fuck that's so gay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    because like&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    men&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    hooking up with men is so gay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    because&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    when guys hook up they usually have gay sex&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    and gay sex is gay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:01 PM) -:    so it's gay.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:02 PM) -:    &lt;3&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:02 PM) -:    f&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:04 PM) -:    sometimes i think they just put penises in their mouths&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:04 PM) -:    because&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:05 PM) -:    sounds healthier&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:09 PM) -:    penetration is beautiful only if one does not have to view it under an electron microscope&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(9:49 PM) -:    by my youth i mean the time when people really go out and collect friends of the opposite gender straight after learning properly about sex and orgasmo for the first time&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(9:49 PM) -:    i was playing it cool. only talked to one girl.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(9:49 PM) -:    so&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(9:49 PM) -:    i don't know how to domesticate women&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on harry potter&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(4:20 PM) -:    not some rabid wizard guy who all of a sudden gives a little boy a scar on his head and becomes 'brave' and shit.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on his...?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    a little short of 5 inches.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    yeah it does&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    it's a tad short&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    pretty short&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    but&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    dating a slut is probably not my thing.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:25 PM) -:    a nymph is okay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    nympho&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    but i guess nymphs who like&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:26 PM) -:    undersized penises are rare&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:27 PM) -:    but i guess i could do anal better than an 8 incher&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:27 PM) -:    but the thought of it&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:27 PM) -:    kind of&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(11:27 PM) -:    urgh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;??&lt;br /&gt;(1&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2:05 AM) -:    sex on the beach on the rocks.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    no, i haven't actually.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    it sounds great.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    i should ask the girl i'm in deep for to make some&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    and i'll eat her&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    finger&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:05 AM) -:    watch her bleed&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    her sacred blood&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    mmm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    and then when i die i'll cremate myself with her&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    well i guess i'll request it&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    i love avacado with condensed milk though&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    great stuff&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(12:06 AM) -:    but yeah, diluting it is good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhh, the boy makes me laff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-2937931673099048273?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/2937931673099048273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/msn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/2937931673099048273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/2937931673099048273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/05/msn.html' title='msn'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/Sfrfp2CO2uI/AAAAAAAAACA/fsYZIcO96Fk/s72-c/100_1187.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-8035402294440164230</id><published>2009-04-26T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T08:43:44.876-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='model'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoplifting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='effie'/><title type='text'>and so on and so on</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfR9SuYbc3I/AAAAAAAAABA/up6dWmK7Vks/s1600-h/24_aggyicon5_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfR9SuYbc3I/AAAAAAAAABA/up6dWmK7Vks/s320/24_aggyicon5_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329022019727750002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;my latest obsession is blogging, i can feel it in my bones already.&lt;br /&gt;am not sleepy in the slightest, its 1:26am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love aggyness deyn? aggynes deyn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Agyness&lt;/em&gt; Deyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also her small breasts make me feel better about mine. i get quite self conscious sometimes, even though i tell myself that if this is about attrac&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;tion then i don't want to attract people who will be attracted on the basis of my breast size... yeah, i just tell myself that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;on taxing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;'ve been shoplifting alot lately.apparently 90 percent of people never will because they believe its wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heres some bits and pieces to explain why im doing it. i don't think its wrong because im brainwashed to think i need useless items that are produced for some small price then jacked up to benefit some insanely and unfairly rich person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Within capitalism, most of us are either (1) alienated from our labour and hence dependent on the ruling classes for commodities as basic as food and clothing, (2) excluded from the division of labour, in which case we are likewise dependant on the State, or (3) performing unpaid and/or unrecognised labour and hence dependant on patriarchal relations for food, clothing, etcetera. In any case, our access to resources is severely limited by contemporary relations of domination.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shoplifting is a refusal of the exchange economy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is a refusal to accept the capitalist system, in which workers have to buy back the products of their own labor at a profit to the owners of capital, who thus get them coming and going. Shoplifting says NO to all the objectionable features that have come to characterize the modern corporation. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he shoplifter attacks the cynical mind control tactics of modern advertising. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Faced with this kind of manipulation, the law-abiding consumer has two choices: either to come up with the money to purchase these products by selling his life away as a wage laborer, or to go without and possibly invite public ridicule as well as private frustration.&lt;/span&gt; The shoplifter creates a third choice of her own: she takes the products she has been conditioned to desire without paying for them, so the corporations themselves must pay for all of their propagandizing and mind control tactics.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shoplifting is the most effective protest against all these objectionable attributes of modern corporations because it is not merely theoretical—it is practical, it involves action. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shoplifting is more than a way to survive in the cutthroat competition of the "free market" and protest corporate injustices.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The shoplifter makes do with an environment that has been conquered by capitalism and industry, where there is no longer a natural world from which to gather resources and everything has become private property, without accepting it or the absurd way of life it entails.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; She takes her life into her own hands by &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;applying an ancient method to the problem of modern survival: she lives by urban hunting and gathering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;resist selling labor&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;protest corporate power&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I no longer have to worry about whether the pleasure I receive from the book I purchased was equal to the two hours of labor it cost me to be able to afford it. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Shoplifting is a refusal of the exchange economy. It is a denial that people deserve to eat, live, and die based on how effectively they are able to exchange their labor and capital with others. It is a denial that a monetary value can be ascribed to everything, that having a piece of delicious chocolate in your mouth is worth exactly fifty cent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfR-xcKGbtI/AAAAAAAAABI/Apjx0cfcGKI/s1600-h/alice-dellal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfR-xcKGbtI/AAAAAAAAABI/Apjx0cfcGKI/s320/alice-dellal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329023646923386578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;alice dellal is so spiff.&lt;br /&gt;so.&lt;br /&gt;my stockings already get torn of their own accord&lt;br /&gt;i already wear too short ripped denim shorts&lt;br /&gt;the bitch stole my look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got a green leather jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im going to get a flanny. im all set now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfSBFBWlGhI/AAAAAAAAABY/KBYLV1SNmyk/s1600-h/effie%21.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfSBFBWlGhI/AAAAAAAAABY/KBYLV1SNmyk/s320/effie%21.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329026182348610066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;i mix this look with &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;effie from skins &lt;/span&gt;cause shes just so fuckign sexy. fuckingfukingfuckingfufugng. basically she just wears alot of jewelry. and doesnt blink. thats her sexy.&lt;br /&gt;people have different sexys!&lt;br /&gt;okay, its 1:37am i need to go to sleep now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-8035402294440164230?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/8035402294440164230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-so-on-and-so-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/8035402294440164230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/8035402294440164230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-so-on-and-so-on.html' title='and so on and so on'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfR9SuYbc3I/AAAAAAAAABA/up6dWmK7Vks/s72-c/24_aggyicon5_lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-894321720236071379</id><published>2009-04-26T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T04:00:46.832-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='polygamy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jealousy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monogamy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bisexuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>bisexuality among other things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;http://www.cat-and-dragon.com/stef/Poly/Labriola/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some fascinating insights into human sexuality!&lt;br /&gt;i found the articles on open relationships and bisexuality particularly relevant to me and i agree with them whole heartedly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few things that have stuck with me after briefly reading these articles:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;dl style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;" compact="compact"&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Alternating bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;may have a relationship with a man, and  then after that relationship ends, may choose a female partner for a  subsequent relationship, and many go back to a male partner next.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Circumstantial bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;primarily heterosexual, but will  choose same sex partners only in situations where they have no access to  other-sex partners, such as when in jail, in the military, or in a  gender-segregated school.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Concurrent relationship bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;have primary relationship  with one gender only but have other casual or secondary relationships  with people of  another gender at the same time.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Conditional bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;either straight or gay/lesbian, but will  switch to a relationship with another gender for financial or career gain  or for a specific purpose, such as young straight males who become gay  prostitutes or lesbians who get married to men in order to gain  acceptance from family members or to have children.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Emotional bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;have intimate emotional relationships with  both men and women, but only have sexual relationships with one gender.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Integrated bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;have more than one primary relationship  at the same time, one with a man and one with a woman.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Exploratory bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;either straight or gay/lesbian, but have  sex with another gender just to satisfy curiosity or "see what it's  like."   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hedonistic bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;primarily straight or gay/lesbian but  will sometimes have sex with another gender primarily for fun or purely  sexual satisfaction.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Recreational bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;primarily heterosexual but engage in gay  or lesbian sex only when under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Isolated bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;100% straight or gay/lesbian now but has  had at one or more sexual experience with  another gender in the past.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Latent bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;completely straight or gay lesbian in behavior  but have strong desire for sex with another gender, but have never acted  on it.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Motivational bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;straight women who have sex with other  women only because a male partner insists on it to titillate him.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Transitional bisexuals:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;temporarily identify as bisexual while  in the process of moving from being straight to being gay or lesbian, or  going from being gay or lesbian to being heterosexual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Many of these people might not call themselves bisexual, but because they  are attracted to and have relationships with both men and women, they are  in fact bisexual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;h3 style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;New Core Belief #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;: My partner loves me so much that (s)he trusts our relationship to expand and be enriched by experiencing even more love from others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3 style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;New Core Belief #2: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My relationship is so solid and trusting that we can experience other relationships freely. My partner is so satisfied with me and our relationship that having other partners will not threaten the bond we enjoy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3 style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;New Core Belief #3: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;There is an abundance of love in the world and there is plenty for everyone. Loving more than one person is a choice that can exponentially expand my potential for giving and receiving love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;i would like to try an open relationship...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-894321720236071379?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/894321720236071379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/bisexuality-among-other-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/894321720236071379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/894321720236071379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/bisexuality-among-other-things.html' title='bisexuality among other things'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4384383955361125754.post-6668744322754348778</id><published>2009-04-26T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T02:58:02.598-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='repeat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='train'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>the beginning.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfQpYPR7xJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kLE6CgF9oPA/s1600-h/100_1239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfQpYPR7xJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kLE6CgF9oPA/s320/100_1239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328929755481490578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;detail&gt;things on mind.&lt;/detail&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.why are me and my sister so different? shes so 'responsible' and 'hardworking' im 'lazy' and 'rude.' shes 'smart' and 'uses her time well' and 'saves her money.' i have 'potential' but i squander it, i 'waste my time' i have 'bad friends' i spend all my money. we were raised in the same household by the same parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.sometimes i get so frustrated with the people i know. mostly because i feel they don't understand me.&lt;br /&gt;it goes back to this mantra that i find underlies all human relationships and interactions&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone wants everyone else to be like what they themselves are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.i feel so distracted at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;all that i am... all that i dream of and have been and will be and the things that hurt me and what i want to be and what i want you to be and what i want and what i dont want and why i want it and why i dont want it and why i cant do what i want and when i want how i want and wanting and dreaming and sleeping and seeing and crying and knowing and typing and hiding and insecurity and sex and sex and love and love and love and boredom and school and&lt;br /&gt;school&lt;br /&gt;i have homework i have not completed. consider that sentence a dark cloud that hangs above my head 24-7 before i get off my lazy ass and actually do it. it took me the entire day to do a quarter of my visual communication drawings, and i still have english and art work left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.are talking to me on msn, including the boy i supposedly have a crush on. but i hate him right now because i hate him right now because i hate him for being who he is and im sick of the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;.are being ignored because im typing this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfQsVs_Ac5I/AAAAAAAAAAk/CRNoZEvIb1Q/s1600-h/100_1169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfQsVs_Ac5I/AAAAAAAAAAk/CRNoZEvIb1Q/s320/100_1169.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328933010450445202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;on the train you can watch these black lines criss cross and merge and dance in the sky. i did that and my friend giggled and prodded me 'hey youre such a stoner i swear, what are you looking at?'&lt;br /&gt;'those things are moving' i say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;does anyone else watch these lines, because i think theyre pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i repeat myself alot. i repeat myself alot. i think i have the same thought patterns and assocations in my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4384383955361125754-6668744322754348778?l=missilelass.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/feeds/6668744322754348778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/list-of-things-on-mind.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/6668744322754348778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4384383955361125754/posts/default/6668744322754348778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://missilelass.blogspot.com/2009/04/list-of-things-on-mind.html' title='the beginning.'/><author><name>stopme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07119948041919206102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0wZ3jZF43s/SfQpYPR7xJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kLE6CgF9oPA/s72-c/100_1239.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
