<?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-1277509917324354204</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:52:00.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dustinson</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-8557463032368399955</id><published>2009-12-22T10:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:40:30.462-06:00</updated><title type='text'>DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER</title><content type='html'>(copy of a commonly circulated email during December)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 8 - 6:00 PM &lt;br /&gt;It started to snow.  The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven.  It looked like a Grandma Moses Print.  So romantic we felt like newlyweds again.  I love snow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 9 &lt;br /&gt;We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape.  What a fantastic sight!  Can there be a more lovely place in the whole world?  Moving here was the best idea I've ever had!  Shovelled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again.  I did both our driveway and the sidewalks.  This afternoon the snowplough came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again.  What a perfect life!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 12 &lt;br /&gt;The sun has melted all our lovely snow..  Such a disappointment!  My neighbour tells me not to worry- we'll definitely have a white Christmas.  No snow on Christmas would be awful!  Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see snow again.  I don't think that's possible.  Bob is such a nice man, I'm glad he's our neighbour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 14 &lt;br /&gt;Snow, lovely snow!  8 inches last night.  The temperature dropped to -20.  The cold makes everything sparkle so.  The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shovelling the driveway and sidewalks.  This is the life!  The snowplough came back this afternoon and buried everything again.  I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shovelling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way.  I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 15 &lt;br /&gt;20 inches forecast.  Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer.  Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels.  Stocked the freezer.  The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out.  I think that's silly.  We aren't in Alaska , after all.&lt;br /&gt;December 16 &lt;br /&gt;Ice storm this morning.  Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt.  Hurt like hell.  The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 17 &lt;br /&gt;Still way below freezing.  Roads are too icy to go anywhere.  Electricity was off for 5 hours.  I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm.  Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her.  Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her.  God I hate it when she's right.  I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.&lt;br /&gt;December 20 &lt;br /&gt;Electricity's back on, but had another 14 inches of the damn stuff last night.  More shovelling!  Took all day.  The dam snowplough came by twice.  Tried to find a neighbour kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey.  I think they're lying.  Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out.  Might have another shipment in March.  I think they're lying.  Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me.  I think he's lying.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 22 &lt;br /&gt;Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white crap fell today, and it's so cold, it probably won't melt till August.  Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to pee.  By the time I got undressed, peed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel.  Tried to hire Bob who has a plough on his truck for the rest of the winter, but he says he's too busy.  I think the butthole is lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 23 &lt;br /&gt;Only 2 inches of snow today.  And it warmed up to 0.  The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning.  What is she, nuts?!!  Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago?  She says she did but I think she's lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 24 &lt;br /&gt;6 inches - Snow packed so hard by snowplough, I broke the shovel.  Thought I was having a heart attack.  If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snow plough, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel.  I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shovelling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been!  Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the damn snowplough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 25 &lt;br /&gt;Merry fricking Christmas!  20 more inches of the damn slop tonight - Snowed in.  The idea of shovelling makes my blood boil.  God, I hate the snow!  Then the snowplough driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel.  The wife says I have a bad attitude.  I think she's a fricking idiot.  If I have to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to stuff her into the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 26 &lt;br /&gt;Still snowed in.  Why the hell did I ever move here?  It was all HER idea.  She's really getting on my nerves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 27 &lt;br /&gt;Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze; plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him, he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 28 &lt;br /&gt;Warmed up to above -20.  Still snowed in.  My WIFE is driving me crazy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 29 &lt;br /&gt;10 more inches.  Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in.  That's the silliest thing I ever heard.  How dumb does he think I am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 30 &lt;br /&gt;Roof caved in.  I beat up the snow plough driver, and now he is suing me for a million dollars, not only the beating I gave him, but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his BUTT.  The wife went home to her mother.  Nine more inches predicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;December 31 &lt;br /&gt;I set fire to what's left of the house.  No more shovelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;January 8 &lt;br /&gt;Feel so good.  I just love those little white pills they keep giving me.  Why am I tied to the bed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-8557463032368399955?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/8557463032368399955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/12/diary-of-snow-shoveler.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8557463032368399955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8557463032368399955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/12/diary-of-snow-shoveler.html' title='DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-2537609829854031419</id><published>2009-12-10T12:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T12:05:42.868-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow the Plow</title><content type='html'>My younger sister was working late one night during a snow storm.  When she got in her car she realized the roads were horrible but remembered dad's advice: "If you are ever in a snow storm, follow a plow for a safe drive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To her luck on just passed so she followed it!  After 30 minutes the plow pulled over and the driver walked back to check on her.  She was feeling smart so shared dad's advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok!" the driver replied, "but once I'm done here I'm heading over the the Wal-Mart parking lot."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-2537609829854031419?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/2537609829854031419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/12/follow-plow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2537609829854031419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2537609829854031419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/12/follow-plow.html' title='Follow the Plow'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-3997389449499370582</id><published>2009-08-19T09:20:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T15:34:27.478-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Links</title><content type='html'>My friend Jen Hanson (&lt;a href='http://twitter.com/jenhansoniowa'&gt;@jenHansonIowa&lt;/a&gt;) was kind enough to share some of her favorite links to help days pass without the threat of productivity.&lt;br /&gt;To share the love, I've listed them and a few others below.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://thereifixedit.com/'&gt;http://thereifixedit.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://failblog.org/'&gt;http://failblog.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.PassiveAggressiveNotes.com/'&gt;http://www.PassiveAggressiveNotes.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://graphjam.com/'&gt;http://graphjam.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com/'&gt;http://AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://juliasmexicocity.typepad.com/safetygraphics/'&gt;http://juliasmexicocity.typepad.com/safetygraphics/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.laserportraits.net/'&gt;http://www.laserportraits.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.someecards.com/'&gt;http://www.someecards.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://myLifeIsAverage.com/'&gt;http://myLifeIsAverage.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://myparentsjoinedfacebook.com/'&gt;http://myparentsjoinedfacebook.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://ThisIsWhyYoureFat.com/'&gt;http://ThisIsWhyYoureFat.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://thedailywtf.com/'&gt;http://thedailywtf.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two of my FAVORITE micro-bloggers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays'&gt;Sh!tMyDadSays&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://twitter.com/badbanana/'&gt;BadBanana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-3997389449499370582?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/3997389449499370582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/fun-links.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/3997389449499370582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/3997389449499370582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/fun-links.html' title='Fun Links'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-8356487523904030220</id><published>2009-08-17T09:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T09:18:51.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tantrum tempering</title><content type='html'>When my daughter was about 4 she would throw terrible tantrums.&lt;br /&gt;One night I got her to stay on her bed (I'm not sure how, no physical constraints were used) and setup a video camera to tape her episode.  It lasted 20 minutes.  Once she finally calmed down, I mad her stay on her bed and watch the entirety of the video.&lt;br /&gt;After than, we talked.&lt;br /&gt;She told me what she saw and how she felt about the way she acted.&lt;br /&gt;I told her that now she understands how we see her when she acts that way. I asked her if she wanted us to show that video to Grandma and Grandpa (I'm not above playing dirty).  She obviously didn't.  Ever since then she only needed a gentle reminder to snap back into shape. &lt;br /&gt;She hasn't always been perfect since, but at least we didn't get the all-out trauma-fest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-8356487523904030220?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/8356487523904030220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/tantrum-tempering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8356487523904030220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8356487523904030220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/tantrum-tempering.html' title='Tantrum tempering'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-8172044340995506457</id><published>2009-08-13T23:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T23:49:31.228-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes.</title><content type='html'>Just got done giving 2 oldest kids helicopter rides landing into the couch, wheelBarrows, and letting them walk up my front side to do back flips.  Good times. Memorable times, for all of us.&lt;br /&gt;Whats the challenge is all that we accept to complete.  I've an ever growing 2do list and struggle with the idea that "when this is done, then I can relax because I have nothing to worry about"/&lt;br /&gt;Life doesn't stop.  Sometimes, it's worth spending $100 on a credit card because I didn't get around to paying it off on time.  Balancing all of that stuff is a necessary evil.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it bugs the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, the little moments are the biggest.  The smell of sweat off the back of a neck of a 2 year old after a long day of playing is so sweat.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes a hug is the best part of your day.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it feels really good to focus and knock stuff out and get the problems out of the way.  It feels good to know you are preparing for the future and doing what you can to mitigate risk.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, you see people close to you family that manage their lives differently and endure more drama.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, you don't know which path to take, and wonder if enjoying some mindless downtime is what you need, or just  what you want.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes watching a kit with a helium balloon playing with a ceiling fan is just fun, regardless of the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, looking back on a situation is crystal clear because you take the view "Things happen for a reason". But just because you can say "It is what it is", does that make "it" the best "is" you could have created?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, you get into the mindset of the popular media and legal system to believe that all past events will be scrutinized to reveal the truth and over-evaluate every action.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the way George Bush handled an event was right, sometimes Obama had it right.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you realize that a single approach is easy to avoid the analysis, but misses the exceptions.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you just know, in ways you can't communicate.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you care, sometimes you don't.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it matters.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, you just let it be, and focus on the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, sharing incomplete thoughts with friends helps us all remember we are in this together and can't do it alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-8172044340995506457?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/8172044340995506457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/sometimes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8172044340995506457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8172044340995506457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/08/sometimes.html' title='sometimes.'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-8331250806583723561</id><published>2009-06-17T07:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T07:35:33.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>45 Lessons Life Taught Me (re-post)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Written  By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain&lt;br /&gt;Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio  "To celebrate growing older, I once&lt;br /&gt;wrote the 45 lessons life taught me.  It is the&lt;br /&gt;most-requested column I've ever written."  My odometer&lt;br /&gt;rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once&lt;br /&gt;more:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your&lt;br /&gt;friends and parents will. Stay in touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 5. Pay off your credit cards every month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You don't have to win every argument.  Agree to disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Its OK to get angry with God. He can take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the&lt;br /&gt;present. &lt;span style="color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: navy;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:VAG Rounded Thin;font-size:85%;color:navy;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: &amp;quot;VAG Rounded Thin&amp;quot;; color: navy;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;12. Its OK to let your children see you cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Don't compare your life to others. You  have no idea&lt;br /&gt;what their journey is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be&lt;br /&gt;in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't&lt;br /&gt;worry; God never blinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or&lt;br /&gt;joyful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood.  But the&lt;br /&gt;second one is up to you and no one else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. When it comes to  going after what you love in life,&lt;br /&gt;don't take no for an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, and wear the&lt;br /&gt;fancy lingerie. Don't  save it for a special occasion..Today&lt;br /&gt;is special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  Over prepare, and then go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. The most important sex organ is the brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five&lt;br /&gt;years, will this matter?'&lt;br /&gt; 27. Always choose life.&lt;br /&gt;28. Forgive everyone everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. What other people think of you is none of your business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Time heals almost everything.  Give time time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. However good or bad a situation is it will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Believe in miracles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of&lt;br /&gt;anything you did or didn't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 35.  Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Your children get only one childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone&lt;br /&gt;else's, we'd grab ours back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Envy is a waste of time.  You already have all you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. The best is yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Yield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Remember that I will always share my spoon with you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-8331250806583723561?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/8331250806583723561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/06/45-lessons-life-taught-me-re-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8331250806583723561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8331250806583723561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/06/45-lessons-life-taught-me-re-post.html' title='45 Lessons Life Taught Me (re-post)'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-8874650134843884944</id><published>2009-04-01T08:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T09:19:40.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>AprilFools ideas</title><content type='html'>Here is a quick list of ideas for the bestest day of the year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Beep Beep Backup: for under $5 you can buy the annoying beeping device trucks make when backing up.  Simply stick it on the backup light (or any other light) on mark's car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Tape over the laser for mouse: simple, classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; possessed mouse: attach a second mouse to mark's computer, control from adjacent cube. I've placed it on the floor and would just kick it occasionally.  The mark's cursor will jump around on the screen occasionally causing great concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; re-0rganize keyboard: pop off a few keys and move them around.  For typers that look at the keyboard it will really mess with them.  For advanced typists, move the home keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; shrinking desk: adjust the height of the desktop by an inch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; faux crash : hook up monitors to a power strip.  When monitors go blank, mark fears computer crashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; rotate monitors: &lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;ctrl-alt-arrow and flip their screen (courtesy @fawnita5)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;faux Desktop :  take a screen shot of mark's desktop and use that image as the new desktop.  move all icons off screen so they try to click on the image, not the actual icons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; ketchup under door handle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; crazy glue on the toilet seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Vaseline on the keyboard, mouse or (worse yet) the phone ear piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Tooth Fairy: place a note under a child's pillow from the tooth Fairy.  "I will be back for your teeth tonight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; niceCritic.com  : send emails anonymously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; supply manager with Two Weeks Notice letter, for a different co-worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; replace sugar jar with salt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; decaf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; put a For Sale on a friends car with a Really low price and their phone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Here is the best april fools joke EVER http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A527834&lt;br /&gt;&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/1277509917324354204-8874650134843884944?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/8874650134843884944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/04/aprilfools-ideas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8874650134843884944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/8874650134843884944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/04/aprilfools-ideas.html' title='AprilFools ideas'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-4757741325397293406</id><published>2009-03-10T10:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T10:24:28.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parents, Beer and 7 yr olds</title><content type='html'>I got this from mom, but will not elaborate about my memories of a parent going through a screen door after drinking this"beer" they speak of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A handful of 7 year old children were asked 'What they thought of&lt;br /&gt;beer'. Some interesting responses, but the last one is especially&lt;br /&gt;touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I think beer must be good. My dad says the more beer he drinks the&lt;br /&gt;prettier my mom gets.'--Tim, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Beer makes my dad sleepy and we get to watch what we want on&lt;br /&gt;television when he is asleep, so beer is nice. '--Mellanie, 7 years&lt;br /&gt;old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My Mom and Dad both like beer. My Mom gets funny when she drinks it&lt;br /&gt;and takes her top off at parties, but Dad doesn't think this is very&lt;br /&gt;funny.'--Grady, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My Mom and Dad talk funny when they drink beer and the more they&lt;br /&gt;drink the more they give kisses to each other, which is a good&lt;br /&gt;thing.'--Toby, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My Dad gets funny on beer. He is funny. He also wets his pants&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, so he shouldn't have too much.--Sarah, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My Dad loves beer. The more he drinks, the better he dances. One time&lt;br /&gt;he danced right into the pool.'--Lilly, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I don't like beer very much. Every time Dad drinks it, he burns the&lt;br /&gt;sausages on the barbecue and they taste disgusting.'--Ethan, 7 years&lt;br /&gt;old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I give Dad's beer to the dog and he goes to sleep.'--Shirley, 7 years old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'My Mom drinks beer and she says silly things and picks on My father.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever she drinks beer she yells at Dad and tells him to go bury his&lt;br /&gt;bone down the street again, but that doesn't make any sense at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-4757741325397293406?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/4757741325397293406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/03/parents-beer-and-7-yr-olds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/4757741325397293406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/4757741325397293406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/03/parents-beer-and-7-yr-olds.html' title='Parents, Beer and 7 yr olds'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-4373243642510337529</id><published>2009-02-16T00:07:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T00:34:19.020-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Use the Disc.</title><content type='html'>Valentine's Day I used my laptop to run a slide show for our dance. I copied all images from previous events to my hard drive and let the slide show run. Next year I will run it from the disc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The CD I was supplied had about 2 years of pictures from various Filipino-American Association of Iowa events. Everyone was enjoying watching and picking themselves out. Then we saw a pic of my 1 yr old nude in the bathroom, followed by my niece sticking her tongue out and then my 8 yr old in her signature Cross Eyes pose. It took me a minute to realize the slide show ran into my collection of picture on my local drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you one thing, I'm not a perfect man, but was very happy at that moment that I didn't have any types of fetishes that could have been more embarrassing. There's something to be said for&lt;br /&gt;clean(ish) living!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly made it up to the projector and unplugged it while I got everything back on track. Word to the wise: next if you are going to use your personal computer for a public slide show, use the disc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since this information is now public, below are the pictures that were shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkIHwjY8eI/AAAAAAAAA_4/I5Ku1jfFh-M/s1600-h/IMG_0053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkIHwjY8eI/AAAAAAAAA_4/I5Ku1jfFh-M/s320/IMG_0053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303278965590913506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkHn5R0Z2I/AAAAAAAAA_w/7xQAxcq-x40/s1600-h/IMG_0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkHn5R0Z2I/AAAAAAAAA_w/7xQAxcq-x40/s320/IMG_0016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303278418177320802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkIbAotk2I/AAAAAAAABAA/8Cg227D981M/s1600-h/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkIbAotk2I/AAAAAAAABAA/8Cg227D981M/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303279296325718882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-4373243642510337529?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/4373243642510337529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/02/use-disc.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/4373243642510337529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/4373243642510337529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/02/use-disc.html' title='Use the Disc.'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SZkIHwjY8eI/AAAAAAAAA_4/I5Ku1jfFh-M/s72-c/IMG_0053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-1895309694372698242</id><published>2009-02-05T07:49:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T08:01:35.121-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Age Calculator</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;I think solved it. I've figured out how to mathematically determine how old you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Each sub section can only have a max effect of 18.3%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;AgeYouFeel &lt;/span&gt;= &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;ActualAge &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;+&lt;/span&gt; Avg(AgeOfChildren)&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; + &lt;/span&gt;Count(Children) &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;+&lt;/span&gt; (CreditCard$Debt/10,000) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; MilesRunB4Puke&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; -&lt;/span&gt; (Parties/Yr)&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; -&lt;/span&gt; ((DirtyThoughts/Day)/Pi)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 33 but feel 36.  Genius!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;(composite re-post from Twitter 20090203)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-1895309694372698242?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/1895309694372698242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/1895309694372698242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/1895309694372698242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post.html' title='Age Calculator'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-2252081529679260761</id><published>2009-01-18T13:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T13:07:25.747-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions</title><content type='html'>#1: less cowbell.&lt;br /&gt;#2: less Bush.    &lt;br /&gt;#4: don't sweat the small stuff.    &lt;br /&gt;#5: More carcass pix.  Crowds clamor for carci.&lt;br /&gt;#6: Increase lung and bladder capacity, just in case.&lt;br /&gt;#7: Give wife less headaches.&lt;br /&gt;#8: Quit wearing dress slacks gangster-style, when at the office, during normal business hours, G.&lt;br /&gt;#9: Review children's homework more frequently so I can learn how to count.&lt;br /&gt;#10: Get a clue.&lt;br /&gt;#11: Commit to boxers OR briefs, at any one point in time (this can wait until Spring)&lt;br /&gt;#12: Use less catch phrases from Nickelodeon and the WB&lt;br /&gt;#13: More variety in diet to avoid SSDD&lt;br /&gt;#14: accept importance of cell phone calls for SUV drivers.&lt;br /&gt;#15: Less variability in my constants&lt;br /&gt;#16: Be more efficient with time; buy sports car.&lt;br /&gt;#17: Start smack to ween Starbucks addiction.&lt;br /&gt;#18: More meat per tweet. 8:20 AM&lt;br /&gt;#19: Come up with a better response to "Oh Yeah?".&lt;br /&gt;#20 Find new song to have stuck in head for the year. {So long Sir Mix-A-Lot}    &lt;br /&gt;#21 Add more dramatic pauses during conversations,. . . . . . like they do before commercials in Soap Operas.&lt;br /&gt;#22 Be a better parent to my kids than mine were to me: buy better tasting soap.&lt;br /&gt;#23 Find a way to express gratitude and appreciation for friends and family without sounding to Cheezy.&lt;br /&gt;#25: Care less about what people think and just be happy that some at least are thinking. #24 Break addiction to Placebos.&lt;br /&gt;#26 Settle who's on first.&lt;br /&gt;#27: neutralize opposition.&lt;br /&gt;#28: Simpler is gooder.   &lt;br /&gt;#28: More TNA, less TLA.    &lt;br /&gt;#30: more Quality Assurance.    &lt;br /&gt;#31: Leverage Synergistic paradigms to materialize conceptualizations, profitably.   &lt;br /&gt;#32: Work on stamina.  I've run out of ideas for new years &lt;span class="nfakPe"&gt;resolutions&lt;/span&gt;.  Appropriate for my age(32).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-2252081529679260761?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/2252081529679260761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolutions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2252081529679260761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2252081529679260761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-2698963627531452699</id><published>2009-01-17T21:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T21:15:53.828-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>I have a friend named Kathy that is a bit goofy.  i guess it is OK for her and Rik.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-2698963627531452699?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/2698963627531452699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2698963627531452699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/2698963627531452699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1277509917324354204.post-5849529961890544618</id><published>2009-01-17T20:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:57:24.180-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blog</title><content type='html'>I'll keep this short, as twitter has taught.&lt;br /&gt;My focus is to capture my seemingly random thoughts and views so the aliens that open our time capsule clearly understand how and why our culture began it's demise.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for following.&lt;br /&gt;-Dustin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1277509917324354204-5849529961890544618?l=dustinson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/feeds/5849529961890544618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/5849529961890544618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1277509917324354204/posts/default/5849529961890544618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dustinson.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog.html' title='First Blog'/><author><name>Dustinson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10647937684004208019</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RNSjwlJlfPA/SXN_zREI-cI/AAAAAAAAA-g/YFPqCg_WC6A/S220/DustinFaceBookProfile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
