<?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-3676690408559690581</id><updated>2012-01-05T14:13:43.803-07:00</updated><category term='`'/><title type='text'>A life in the day of Thome</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8469978574811825096</id><published>2011-11-08T19:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T19:55:43.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumb and Dumber Fight Club</title><content type='html'>Was anyone afraid of spiders before the movie Arachnophobia or was this the start of all the hate mongering? I mean sure I hate Hobo spiders. But who doesn't hate a spider that won't get a job and would rather be homeless wandering around asking for spare change and holding signs that say "will build webs for food" but then they blow the money on booze and insects. That just ain't right.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was just thinking this as I watched a spider wander around my apartment for a minute before I engaged him in an epic battle. As he explored I watched from afar. Plotting when and how I would attack. He was unsuspecting. He ran across the TV stand. He climbed over the fruit loop that has been there for over a year and now really ties the room together. He stopped and waved a few of his legs around to which I likened to a human singing Justin Bieber into the bathroom mirror and not knowing someone was watching. It was cute. That's when I decided I needed to act. Since I was barefoot I decided to go with the "smash with tissue and flush him" action. This has been a proven method and figured it would go with out a hitch. I pounced and got him. As I brought up the tissue he jumped. He landed on his 8 legs just as two cats that were tied together would have and started running. Right at me. He wasn't backing down. This same thing happened twice on the way to the bathroom and finally the calming swirling noise signaled it was over. And that's when I realized I respected the hell out of that tiny little guy. He fought tough and didn't back down. And while we stand for different things I can't help but think that Jeff Daniels' propaganda had somehow led us both down this ugly ugly road that led only to certain death for one of us. Luckily for me, my day has not come but I fought a worthy opponent tonight and hopefully soon we can come to terms that we are not all that different. That at heart, we are both the same, flailing our many appendages in the air and singing "Baby, Baby, Baby, ohhhhh Baby..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8469978574811825096?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8469978574811825096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8469978574811825096' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8469978574811825096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8469978574811825096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2011/11/dumb-and-dumber-fight-club.html' title='Dumb and Dumber Fight Club'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4578896019655915484</id><published>2011-08-16T19:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T20:15:11.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharp Scooters, Don't Touch</title><content type='html'>Oh hey there, just here for my 6 month check in, and no I did not floss......or did I. Hahahaha nah, I didn't. Anyways everyone keeps bothering me to blog more. OK fine one person does but she says it quite often. OK fine, she said it once but you could imagine if she said it more often.&lt;br /&gt;So I haven't shaved for two weeks. I'm pretty sure that is the longest I have ever gone without shaving in my entire life. Well except for the first 21 years of my life. Yep, never saw a razor until I had my first beer....jk jk I saw my Dad use one once. But I didn't really know what it was used for. In fact I remember packing for my mission and reading the things to bring and it said to bring a razor. I read it twice just to make sure. I was surprised the wanted me to take that, but hey I do what I'm told. So as I was putting my razor scooter into my luggage my Mom asked me why I was taking that. And I told I wasn't sure but I was guessing that maybe you could choose either a scooter or a bike. Or maybe it was like a back up so if your bike got stolen or maybe just for a nice change of pace. You know too far to walk there but too close to bike. That's when she explained to me what they meant and the had my Dad show me how to shave. Boy was my face red. Not only cause I was embarrassed about the whole scooter thing but also the razor burn. Worst day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways back to me not shaving for two weeks. I was really hoping that this thing would turn into a nice beard so I could finally live out the dream that Zach had where I had a full beard and I was an umpire in a MLB baseball game and would dance when I called balls or strikes. But I don't think its going to happen. Maybe I could just get it long enough to do like a comb over....too gross? I mean I'm still getting hit on by single moms so it can't be that nasty yet. I can grow a mean mustache but that's about it. And every day I mustache myself if I should shave or not. So I guess if this was a football injury report my facial hair would be listed as day to day.......&lt;br /&gt;Also if I shaved it into just a mustache I would wear some thick black rimmed glasses. I already have the big nose so it would look like those cheap disguise things you buy. Man that would be awesome! I could walk around and no one would know who I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4578896019655915484?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4578896019655915484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4578896019655915484' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4578896019655915484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4578896019655915484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2011/08/sharp-scooters-dont-touch.html' title='Sharp Scooters, Don&apos;t Touch'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7556852211138947215</id><published>2011-01-25T12:32:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T12:53:00.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hooked on a feeling</title><content type='html'>What do robots do?&lt;br /&gt;What do women do too much of?&lt;br /&gt;What scares me more than zombies taking over the world?&lt;br /&gt;Easy, and no its not Charlie Sheen. One of my biggest fears is that we will build these cool robots and then they will take over the world. It gives me the Kelsey Grammars just thinking about it. But I've never been able to put my finger on why it scared me so much. That was until the other day when one of my friends said to me  "Tomas, tu sabes ninas mayores de analizar las cosas" Vickie, You know I don't speak Spanish. So I went home and found a translator(still not sure what Wayne Bass was doing there but oh well.) So it turns out she said,  "Thomas, you know girls over analyze things." And that's when it hit me, Robots analyze everything, that's just what they do. But they do it logically. And they are strong. But they don't have emotion. But girls have emotion, and lots of it. So what would happen if somehow these robots got the emotion of a female. I'll tell you what! Mother effin Armageddon that's what! We would be powerless to stop them! They would know that when we say that the game only has 15 minutes left it actually means about an hour. And that we could no longer be able to create a diversion by saying "their robotic butts looked good in those jeans" or "did you change the color of your circuiting?" And not to mention the strength they would have, we could no longer wrestle the remote out of their hands if they tried to turn on The Bachelor or Jersey Shore.&lt;br /&gt;So scientists, I make this desperate plea.....Please don't give robots feelings! Please for the love of all that is good and holy don't give them feelings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7556852211138947215?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7556852211138947215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7556852211138947215' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7556852211138947215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7556852211138947215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2011/01/hooked-on-feeling.html' title='Hooked on a feeling'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8034349053219018810</id><published>2010-05-24T11:41:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T16:51:08.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Candy Nazi</title><content type='html'>You know those candy machines that spin. A lot of businesses have them as you walk in. The ones where you put a quarter in and get like 3 peanuts, a half of a crushed M&amp;amp;M, or no Mike, just Ike. Ya those ones. What is this? Nazi Germany? Oh the irony if we are rationing Good and Plenty's now. We would have to change the name to Good and That's enough.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways the only thing more perplexing than this is why people continue to get duped by this infernal machine. Seriously there is a lady here at work that everyday I hear her go up, put her money in. Turn the dial and then go, OH COME ON! NOT AGAIN! Its rather entertaining. I'm not sure why she hasn't figured it out yet but as the old saying goes fool me once shame on me, fool me twice better grab some popcorn cause this is going to be entertaining. Oh crap, gotta go. I hear her digging through her change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8034349053219018810?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8034349053219018810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8034349053219018810' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8034349053219018810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8034349053219018810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/candy-nazi.html' title='The Candy Nazi'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2182938655222902718</id><published>2010-04-26T09:56:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T10:46:13.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Air Bud</title><content type='html'>I have been sleeping on an air mattress for the past 19 months. Why you ask? Well here is a list of the reasons why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PROS:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;THE most comfortable bed I have had since the womb.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It literally feels like you are sleeping on air.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You sleep with ease knowing if there is a flood you will be able to float on safely without even having to wake up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Moving is way too easy, What? I have to move, ya one second, psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst done.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you use the pump to add a bit more air for firmness it sounds like you are vacuuming your room and then you roommates think to themselves "wow, Thome keeps a real tight ship in there." suckers.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;can be easily thrown at intruders, this act wont cause any harm to them but it should cause confusion, cause come on, who throws a bed now a days.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;has the possibility to be filled with Hawaiian punch for a real thirst quenching sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CONS:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A catastrophic air failure at 5 a.m. that results with you waking up on the floor and having to relocate to the couch really blows....literally.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So as you can see, the pros defiantly out weigh the cons. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a nap since I ended up on the couch last night.......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2182938655222902718?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2182938655222902718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2182938655222902718' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2182938655222902718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2182938655222902718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/air-bud.html' title='Air Bud'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5251896211957403558</id><published>2010-04-02T15:57:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T16:42:40.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>double not?</title><content type='html'>So I realized two things today. 1. I can't spell certain words. No matter how hard I try and I just can't. I can look it up and try and memorize how to spell it but the next time I have to it still comes out wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing is I can not for the life of me tie my right shoe and keep it tied for more than 5 minutes. Tops. Left shoe, no problem. Right shoe, ya right. Why this is I have no idea. I'll tie it and a few step later its flopping around again. I am 26 years old and I still have to have my mommy tie my right shoe. It doesn't get any better than that. Seriously I tied it when I started writing this post and I just looked down and its untied. I didn't move! There has to be some sort of &lt;a href="http://www.blogiversity.org/blogs/cstanton/Gremlins%20Stripe.jpg"&gt;gremlin&lt;/a&gt; hiding around here that unties my shoes. I'm going to tie my shoe and walk around work staring at it just waiting for this little guy to try and untie it. Sure my co workers might laugh at me but they already do when I tell them that there is a monster that comes into my room at night and wrinkles all my work shirts. And that's why they are so wrinkled when I get to work in the morning. They laugh, but its true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5251896211957403558?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5251896211957403558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5251896211957403558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5251896211957403558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5251896211957403558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/double-not.html' title='double not?'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5849335936791432886</id><published>2010-03-02T16:22:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:49:38.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>70 degrees with a chance of......</title><content type='html'>So the last few days I have been a little under the weather. And after having a couple people say that to me and using the phrase myself a couple of times I have wondered what it means? Well it means you are sick but how did it come to mean that? Technically we are always under the weather. Rain falls, snow falls, the sun beats down, all hail breaks loose and well then falls down. So I'm thinking we need to tweak the saying just a little bit, not much. Example: person 1 "hey how are you today?" person 2" hmm not that well, I AM the weather." person 1 "oh....okay." Person 1 would then say to person 3 "hey did you hear that, that guy over there thinks he IS the weather! is that guy sick or what?" Person 3 would have no choice but to agree seeing as anyone who would think that they are the weather would have to be considered sick. So this would get the point across.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5849335936791432886?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5849335936791432886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5849335936791432886' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5849335936791432886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5849335936791432886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/03/70-degrees-with-chance-of.html' title='70 degrees with a chance of......'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7897107881539626879</id><published>2010-02-21T23:01:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T23:08:00.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I am still single.</title><content type='html'>I have figured out why I am still single. Its cause I would rather try a do something funny as opposed to put in an effort in dating. Here is an example:&lt;br /&gt;I want to be on a date and then during the date I want a person to drive up and get out and start dragging me towards the car and throw me in the trunk. Then speed off. Then not see or talk to her for three to four days and then show up at her house with my clothes all torn and express my deep regret for not calling her sooner because I was a little "tied up"&lt;br /&gt;As you could imagine a second date probably wouldn't happen but I would be fine with this cause it would be sooooo funny. And I'm sure the cops would have a chuckle or two over it as well. And really isn't that what its all about. Bringing joy into the hearts of cops everywhere. And that's another single day in the life of Thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7897107881539626879?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7897107881539626879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7897107881539626879' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7897107881539626879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7897107881539626879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-i-am-still-single.html' title='Why I am still single.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5704525973019064160</id><published>2010-02-05T15:50:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T16:29:25.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Staples? Ya we got that!</title><content type='html'>You ever do something that is really random and end up immediately regretting it? No I'm not talking about Brenda from 4C. I'm talking about reaching for a box of staples even though you don't need said staples and as soon as you touch the box it explodes. Sending 5000 staples in every direction. Injuring the orphan kids standing near by that had stopped by to see the inner workings of a car dealership(poor Frankie the farter will probably need a new nickname after being, well stapled shut.) Well that's just what happened to me. I swear. Well all of it except for the orphan kids. Luckily they had left 5 minutes before the staple carnage. But all of this could have been avoided if I just hadn't opened that drawer and thought "OHHHH STAPLES! JACKPOT!" Well if you would excuse me I am going to go straighten out all these staples in my body and go do my best porcupine impression. And by that I mean slowly wandering out into traffic and hoping I make it to the other side. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5704525973019064160?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5704525973019064160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5704525973019064160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5704525973019064160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5704525973019064160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/02/staples-ya-we-got-that.html' title='Staples? Ya we got that!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2516560650596768411</id><published>2010-01-28T17:10:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T17:38:54.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The stick of chap</title><content type='html'>Well the end of the road is coming to a long standing partner of mine....my trusty ol chap stick. I have had this same stick for around 2 years or so. I would have to say its the longest relationship that my lips have ever been in. Honestly I have no idea how I have kept it so long. It seems that usually I buy one and have lost it by time I get out of the store. I would have to buy a 3 pack just to make sure I could at least apply it to my lips just once. I am convinced that a black hole existed in my left pocket from 1999 to 2006.  As soon as anything went into that pocket it was lost forever. I lived in constant fear of putting things in that pocket. One time I almost put a small child that I was asked to hold in there. Luckily I remembered and was able to spin him like a basketball on the end of my finger while I finished my ice cream. Tragedy was adverted AND I even beat the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington_Generals"&gt;Washington generals&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;But alas I can see the end of the chap stick and it makes me kinda sad. We have been through a lot together. And I'm sure if it could talk it would freak me the hell out (cause when was the last time you saw a talking chap stick) but I am sure it could tell some good stories. But here's to you good buddy. You've kept my lips chapless and my chaps assless.&lt;br /&gt;And that was another day in the life of Thome.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2516560650596768411?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2516560650596768411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2516560650596768411' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2516560650596768411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2516560650596768411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/01/stick-of-chap.html' title='The stick of chap'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-967877893886475107</id><published>2010-01-18T23:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:45:17.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Russell Counting Crows.</title><content type='html'>So as I sit here watching Gladiator on my new 46" Sony bravia television(which by the way Peyton Manning and Justin Timberlake are right, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo5gbTirdn4&amp;amp;feature=channel"&gt;watching &lt;/a&gt;sports on a Sony television not only looks better, but make you better at sports.) I came to the realization that movies have the gift of tongues. Now by no means do I mean this in a sacrilegious way but its the only way that movies make sense.  Take Gladiator for example, its set in ancient Rome. They did not speak English then but I can understand every word they say. But how? Gift of tongues. Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this quote goes out to Zach and Quinn...."Let the maggots cleanse your wounds Spaniard"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-967877893886475107?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/967877893886475107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=967877893886475107' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/967877893886475107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/967877893886475107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2010/01/russell-counting-crows.html' title='Russell Counting Crows.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2938152120954350580</id><published>2009-12-31T12:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T13:52:06.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Dude, your phones ringing</title><content type='html'>So seeing that it is indeed new years eve I have heard the phrase "ringing in the new year" several times already. What does that mean? Seriously. Are we talking like ringing like a bell? I mean maybe in the olden days that's how they celebrated the new year by ringing bells. But even if I was living back then and that's all we did was ring bells for new years and somebody came up and said "Thomas old chum, how might thee be ringing in the new year?" I would have to look at him and say with a bell you moron.  How else would I "ring" in the new year? With party streamers and noise makers? Come on! So that can't be it, plus its not like I ever heard anyone in elementary school ask how I was "ringing" in recess. And that bell ringing is how we knew it was recess. Trust me that bell was a bell of celebration.&lt;br /&gt;But at last it is not the olden days. I think we need to put a modern spin on things.  Maybe change it to how are you texting in the new year? you know, phones ring but no one calls anymore they text. That could work.  Or and this one will take some work to make it happen but maybe how are you hanginover the new year?  Maybe instead of words we can just make a noise. Like how are you (insert your best attempt to make one of those party noise makers noise here) the new year?&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot possibilities out there but I really think this whole ringing thing has to stop. Its giving me a headache. What are some of your ideas for a new saying?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2938152120954350580?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2938152120954350580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2938152120954350580' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2938152120954350580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2938152120954350580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/12/hey-dude-your-phones-ringing.html' title='Hey Dude, your phones ringing'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4883087945573429893</id><published>2009-12-24T23:27:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T00:24:02.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doogie Howser M.D.</title><content type='html'>I am Tom.....some side effects may include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;uncontrollable spasms of the diaphragm(laughing)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;dizziness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;redness of the face&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;weakened joints particularly the knees&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;cancer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;expensive gifts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;general soreness of the joints&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;jealousy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;toys, particularly in the motorcycle and snowmobile areas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;constant courtesy laughing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;embarrassment&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;death&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;inappropriate jokes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;an overabundance of text messaging&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;carpel tunnel&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;having to eat every two hours&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;a fear of clowns&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;cold leather seats&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;being around for more than 4 hours&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;frustration&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;sports center&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;jury duty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;a quick dubbya in air hockey&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;a definite knowledge of who Tom Brady is and what he stands for&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;nervousness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;giddiness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So consult a doctor before using.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4883087945573429893?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4883087945573429893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4883087945573429893' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4883087945573429893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4883087945573429893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/12/doogie-howser-md.html' title='Doogie Howser M.D.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5560988255677270111</id><published>2009-12-15T23:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T00:22:34.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some ice cubes, a 9 iron and a Tiger Woods</title><content type='html'>As many of you know I am not a fan of the athlete Tiger Woods. Now I am a fan of the golfer Tiger Woods but this is not what I want to discuss right now.  What I realized today is that Tiger is only a victim of two things. Taking things too literally and doing what he was told. How so you ask? Well its simple. Someone, most likely his wife or Shooter McGavin told him to "Go get em Tiger." Now we know that this is just a form of encouragement, as into to go out and do your best. Show them what you are made of type of stuff.  Well Tiger went out and got them....literally.  So really our bad Tiger, we should have known better than to do this to you. So general public, next time you congratulate Tiger Woods just pat him on the back or something. Maybe keep the subject on golf, tell him that the green slopes slightly to the left. Or remind him that its all in the hips, all in the hips.....uh never mind, just stick with the pat on the ol back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5560988255677270111?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5560988255677270111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5560988255677270111' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5560988255677270111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5560988255677270111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/12/some-ice-cubes-9-iron-and-tiger-woods.html' title='Some ice cubes, a 9 iron and a Tiger Woods'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1689178273074314416</id><published>2009-11-25T15:31:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T16:47:01.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So we meet again Mr. Bond...SILENCE OCTOPUSSY!</title><content type='html'>Okay so I haven't blogged in a long time and several people have been telling me to start blogging again. Okay mainly just Shannee when she called last night at 1:30 but hey, I listen.&lt;br /&gt;But anyways I've been meaning to blog lately but alas, I have not. Its due mostly to my laziness, if only I could just have someone write down my ideas while I say them it we would be in business.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways its Thanksgiving. So you know what that means. Tons of good food(literally, the turkey today weighed 2,000 lbs. no joke. it had to be some kind of record.) Tons of football(literally, Tony Romo has put on a lot of weight) and of course James Bond movies. I love James Bond movies. And what guy wouldn't want to be James Bond. This guy has all the girls, guns, and cars that any guy could want. Plus he always delivers the witty one liners at the appropriate times. But there is one aspect of his life that I would not want, and that's the fact that he can't go anywhere with out someone trying to kill him. Seriously, every time he gets on a train he opens the closet and there is some villain hiding in the closet for him. Do you have any idea how annoying that would be? It would be like a telemarketer calling you and every time you answer it they try and kill you by wrapping the cord around your neck, then you struggle for a few minutes while the extremely attractive girl that you are with watches in horror but then right when it looks like you are done for, you pry the cord off and throw the phone in the garbage disposal...then immediately after you turn to her and say "it appears they dialed the wrong number" and adjust your tie.&lt;br /&gt;You know after writing all this, it seems like I have more in common with James Bond than I originally thought.  Girls, guns, cars, witty one liners and killer telemarketers. Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1689178273074314416?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1689178273074314416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1689178273074314416' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1689178273074314416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1689178273074314416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-we-meet-again-mr-bondsilence.html' title='So we meet again Mr. Bond...SILENCE OCTOPUSSY!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2444672913809500157</id><published>2009-08-21T15:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T16:31:15.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so sick of the hobo's.....</title><content type='html'>My friends, I am lucky to be here today. Why am I lucky to be here today? Well I'm glad to say its because I got lucky last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a close encounter of THE HOBO KIND. Let me tell you of it. So there I was, all naked and half scared. Sitting on the couch at the vegbos house, just chillin. We were in the middle of a very gripping movie, Air Bud, number 8 i believe. As I was watching something on the floor caught my attention. I looked over to see what it was, but there wasn't anything there. As I started to look away I saw movement again. That's when I saw the hobo! He....was....HUGE! At my estimate he had to of been at least 239 lbs. He had been lying still so I wouldn't see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;HEY&lt;/em&gt;!" I said "&lt;em&gt;what are you doing in here, we're watching air bud&lt;/em&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;ahjfbdaj&amp;amp;68bfa9fy8fbaCHANGEjfkdasopfda&lt;/em&gt;" said Tim the hobo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;huh&lt;/em&gt;?" I responded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;change, give me your change&lt;/em&gt;!" grumbled Tim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Listen here Obama, you have some audacity to come in here and hope we will give you change&lt;/em&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well since he was a republican hobo this last comment really got his knapp sack in a twist. He pulled out a crudely fashioned knife made from another knife that he had found and crudely fashioned into his current knife. This caused Ford and Harper to jump on the back of the couch and scream uncontrollably(we all know how Ford feels about hobo's) Knowing this could get out of hand real quick I decided I had to leap into action. Everybody knows the only way to kill a hobo is by stepping on them real hard, usually while they are distracted or trying to escape. So as I leaped into action or the air in this case I grabbed 23 cents out of my pocket and threw on the ground. Tim took the bait and while he was counting the change I landed right on his back, smashing him. A hobo knife fight had been adverted with some quick thinking and some good hang time. We quickly dumped the body in the bushes and then got back to watching the end of Air Bud. Just another life in the day of Thome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2444672913809500157?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2444672913809500157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2444672913809500157' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2444672913809500157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2444672913809500157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-so-sick-of-hobos.html' title='I&apos;m so sick of the hobo&apos;s.....'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1987977715559507263</id><published>2009-08-08T12:57:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T13:42:37.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RUDY! RUDY! RUDY! RUDY!</title><content type='html'>This morning I woke up thinking about fantasy football.  Thats it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1987977715559507263?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1987977715559507263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1987977715559507263' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1987977715559507263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1987977715559507263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/08/rudy-rudy-rudy-rudy.html' title='RUDY! RUDY! RUDY! RUDY!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2502142688667065975</id><published>2009-08-06T18:41:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T19:05:04.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A 5 drawer roomate.</title><content type='html'>so I realized it is too damn hot in my apartment for a penguin. So while I sit here in my underwear I would like to go over somethings that have been on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;1. The phrase "take it back" after someone says something mean to you. Does it really make a difference if they say take it back? Do you automatically feel like it never happened? Yes, yes you do. That's why I think that we should institute a "take it back" in everything. For example, a cop pulls you over and gives you a ticket, you say "take it back" to which he replies, oh sorry, i didn't mean it, i take it back. boom no ticket. A girl breaks up with you saying that you "have no direction" or that your "feet smell horrible" or that she wishes "you would get up off the couch and stop playing that damn video game and appreciate me for once" you say take it back and bam you get back to that crucial 3rd and long play on madden.&lt;br /&gt;2. Why I am an idiot. This one could take all night folks but I will try and keep it short. I'm an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;3. Why there is that picture of the half naked little black boy displayed proudly on a local main street business. I get the Kelsey Grammars just thinking about it. I'm pretty sure there are laws against that type of thing.&lt;br /&gt;4. I heard of another bear attack and I just can't stress bear safety enough people. I mean come on I devoted a whole blog about it a month or so ago. Seriously, If you aren't careful you could be that czech in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;5. Zach got a new desk today, this is huge. You should see this thing, I think its made out of solid mahogany. Back in the olden days a man was measured on the number of drawers in his desk and let me tell you what, it looks like Zach is doing mighty fine for himself. A 5 drawer desk is hard to come by in upper Thai-land.&lt;br /&gt;6. The hobo spiders at work are too smart for the glue traps I have set out. But they are not to smart for the bottom of my shoe. That'll teach you to hide under the glue trap that I set out there with the sole purpose of you getting stuck to!(please shake fist while reading last sentence)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2502142688667065975?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2502142688667065975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2502142688667065975' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2502142688667065975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2502142688667065975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/08/5-drawer-roomate.html' title='A 5 drawer roomate.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7437486122735924066</id><published>2009-07-27T16:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T16:42:53.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike</title><content type='html'>I have written a song. Please don't judge me as this is my first attempt but I figure at some point I have to follow the trend and jump from being a simple blogger to an award winning Grammy artist. So here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love You Long Time had a bunch of hits&lt;br /&gt;Craigos makes me sick&lt;br /&gt;And I think its fly when girls stop by for the 7 week break, for the break.&lt;br /&gt;I like girls that wear American Apparel&lt;br /&gt;I'd take her to the cocoa bean if I had one wish&lt;br /&gt;but she'll be here for the break&lt;br /&gt;for the break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? I know its just the chorus but I think I might be on to something. Now I just need a good beat, maybe I can rip off an LFO song......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7437486122735924066?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7437486122735924066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7437486122735924066' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7437486122735924066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7437486122735924066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/ill-steal-your-honey-like-i-stole-your.html' title='I&apos;ll steal your honey like I stole your bike'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4858387191317116809</id><published>2009-07-23T16:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:43:49.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T-minus 7 weeks</title><content type='html'>Do you smell that? That's the smell of football season being right around the corner. Or it could be that I haven't showered yet today but really they smell about the same anyways so what does it matter. Alot of you are thinking "ya 7 week break! OMG!" well you are wrong, its a 7 week count down until the first week of the season. And it defiantly isn't a break. Shoot, training camps open up next week, then you have preseason games, roster cuts and of course close ups of Tom Brady's knee. So please there is no need to cry for me Marge and Tina this 7 week break. For I will have football to be my constant companion. In fact I might not even know you were gone.............PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND DECENT, DON'T LEAVE ME! I HATE FOOTBALL! I SWEAR, IT DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING TO ME! PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING!&lt;br /&gt;ahem, sorry about that my phone always picks up the neighbors calls and they are always fighting about something. Married people, what are you going to do? Can't live with them, can't live next to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4858387191317116809?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4858387191317116809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4858387191317116809' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4858387191317116809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4858387191317116809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/t-minus-7-weeks.html' title='T-minus 7 weeks'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7156634204374049015</id><published>2009-07-01T11:06:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T12:11:36.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bat out of hell part IV</title><content type='html'>A wise dinner entree once said "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that" I've always wondered what that one thing was that he wouldn't do for love and it made me want to make a list of things I would and would not do. I figure Meatloaf and I have a lot in common so I'm sure that this list will be close to his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Will do - Eat meatloaf. Even if her cooking is not that good I'm sure I have had worse, so why not down it in the name of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Won't do - Eat Meatloaf. That's cannibalism brotha! Not to mention its wrong in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Will do/won't do - Walk 500 miles. This one is a toss up. First why are we walking 500 miles? Is it for charity? Are there no more cars? Are we doing one of those pioneer treks? Will there be treats? I would have to say walk 500 miles is a won't do. Drive 500 miles, totally down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Will do - Watch a chick flick. I could do this one in my sleep. But seriously I have learned how to sleep with my eyes open so I would just sleep through the whole movie.&lt;br /&gt;5. Will do - Go shopping. But there is a time limit on this. 2 hours tops! And I can't stress this enough, you must keep me well fed or else suffer the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Won't do - Write you a love song. Not even if you ask for one or if you need one. I just won't write you a love song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Won't do - Anything during the game.... any game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6SoqMPhDXQ&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;video &lt;/a&gt;pretty much sums it all up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7156634204374049015?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7156634204374049015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7156634204374049015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7156634204374049015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7156634204374049015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/bat-out-of-hell-part-iv.html' title='Bat out of hell part IV'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-6726079203050171164</id><published>2009-06-19T10:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T10:23:29.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bear Market</title><content type='html'>Well guys, I hate to do this but this is going to be another serious post. I know, I know that's not what you come here for but I just feel that this is an important topic. One that I need to bring up. Bear safety.&lt;br /&gt;Bear safety? you ask. But why? Well because there is nothing worse than running into one of these godless killing machines in the backwoods. You might call this the summer season but I call it killing season. Every year these things maim and murder hundreds of innocent tax payers. Sure you can say that this doesn't effect you but let me relate this story and we'll see how you feel afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;In the summer of 2003 two hikers from the Czech Republic were on vacation here in the states. They were backpacking in Yellowstone National Park having the time of their lives. Until disaster struck. They bumped into a bear and it took more than their pic-i-nic basket if you know what I mean. One hiker was able to escape but the other wasn't so lucky. The escapee made it to a rangers station and told them what had happened. The rangers were able to locate the bear and eliminated it. Afterward they recovered the remains of the other hiker from the bear. Distraught by all this the surviving hiker was lamenting about how to get his dear friend home for a proper burial. A ranger overhearing this whispered to the coroner "I feel so bad, what are we going to do?"." "Don't worry" said the coroner, "we have already taken care of it......the Czech is in the mail."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-6726079203050171164?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6726079203050171164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=6726079203050171164' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6726079203050171164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6726079203050171164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/bear-market.html' title='Bear Market'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-579689360958323320</id><published>2009-06-15T10:58:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T11:31:02.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Illegal Blog Block in the Back, 15 yard penalty, First Down</title><content type='html'>I've had bloggers block for the last little while. What is that you ask? Well first of all I appreciate how you raised you hand and second its similar to writers block but totally different.&lt;br /&gt;You see when you have bloggers block that's all you can think about. You try and do something to occupy your self to take you mind off of it. Doesn't work. Soon you are just wandering around. You go from one room to the other just hoping to find something. You know, something you might have dropped or that is stashed somewhere.  You always have this empty feeling in your stomach and it tends to make a lot of loud whale like noises. Usually at very inopportune times, like church or a whale watching trip. You tend to be very cranky if you do not blog every couple of hours. People start to say "man what is wrong with Tom? Oh he hasn't blogged for a while, don't mind him" Wait, wait, never mind. This is how I feel when I am hungry. My bad&lt;br /&gt;The truth is I am just lazy, and I have carpel tunnel. But I will try harder to blog more often. I just have a lot to live up to. I mean shoot, I gots readers across the pond. Its gone global, that's pressure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-579689360958323320?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/579689360958323320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=579689360958323320' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/579689360958323320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/579689360958323320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/illegal-blog-block-in-back-15-yard.html' title='Illegal Blog Block in the Back, 15 yard penalty, First Down'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-6863206151351410536</id><published>2009-05-21T10:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T11:01:14.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='`'/><title type='text'>arrrgh matey</title><content type='html'>Went to a bar last night for kareoke. Met a real life pirate. He challenged me to sing Right Said Fred - I'm too sexy. Kept refering to Rob as "the cute one." Said he didn't know Captain Sparrow. Drunk Pirates are awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-6863206151351410536?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6863206151351410536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=6863206151351410536' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6863206151351410536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6863206151351410536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/arrrgh-matey.html' title='arrrgh matey'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8244191995718642291</id><published>2009-05-19T11:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T11:48:57.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EFF YOU BEAVER!</title><content type='html'>That's right, I said it. Don't think that I am not on to your little plan. Sure you look all innocent and stuff while you a lazily swimming and diving under water while several people stop riding their bikes to watch you "play." But they are too busy oohing and ahing to realize the "busy beaver" behind them stealing their wallets and slipping their kids candy effectively ruining their dinner. That's just wrong man, so wrong. Don't you have anything better to do with your life? You gotta strive for something. Look at the beavers back in the 80's when they had that &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:American_Beaver.jpg"&gt;evil plan &lt;/a&gt;to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Beaver_signs.JPG"&gt;chew &lt;/a&gt;through all the power poles in the U.S. to force us to rely on all the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Beaver_dam_in_Tierra_del_Fuego.jpg"&gt;damns &lt;/a&gt;they had built for our hydro-electric power. Sure it was evil and wrong but at least they had some ambition man. So don't waste your time with petty theft, come up with something big and really stick it to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8244191995718642291?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8244191995718642291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8244191995718642291' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8244191995718642291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8244191995718642291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/eff-you-beaver.html' title='EFF YOU BEAVER!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5754329377430541360</id><published>2009-05-09T13:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T13:55:11.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its not all good, and its not all bad</title><content type='html'>I don't really blog about serious stuff very.....well ever. But since as of this week I have moved past being funny and am now smart(according to Marion and Vickie) I will blog about something serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I have been at work today I have spent most of the time on YouTube watching videos of The Eels. This includes a documentary about E's father who came up with the theory of parallel universes. You would imagine an hour long video about parallel universes and quantum mechanics would be boring but this thing blew me away. Not for those aforementioned things but watching this grown man learn more about his father that he never really got to know. It was quite touching if I can use that word and not sound too gay. This guy has been through so much, from finding his father dead at age 19(which I don't want to even imagine how horrible that would be) to his sisters suicide and his mothers death shortly after. He even had a cousin die during the Sept 11th attacks. Just one thing after another but through all that he seems to some how remain upbeat and continues on with his life. He says "All these deaths made me notice that I was still alive......I've been through a lot but I'm OK. And if I want to be I'm better than OK. I mean -- I survived. And I survived just by being me. How lucky and amazing is that?"  There isn't much you can add to that. I'm not one that gets down on my self often but inevitably it will happen, and it usually occurs when I am not being true to my self. And everything goes back to normal when I am myself. Now I'm not saying that I put my self first and neglect everyone else cause that isn't me, just saying you got to do what it is that makes you, well you. This looks like it has helped E through some rough times so I think its not too bad of an idea to live by. I'm also not one to let my personal feelings out like this but since I figure that its only my closest friends that read this I'm fine with it. Just don't get used to it cause it won't happen again for a long time, I think its about on the same cycle as Haley's comet, once every 76 years or so.&lt;br /&gt;On a related note I've noticed that the two bands that I listen most often lately are The Eels and The Beatles. Not coincidentally these two bands are ones that I have spent a lot of time recently learning a lot about their personal lives and the background of their music. This has happened in the past with the likes of Weezer and The Format. Music just is better to me when it comes on a more personal level I guess.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways checkout this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mD4jpZwTmY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt;. Its an Eels song put to clips from this documentary. Its really good. And I'll be back soon with something funny. I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5754329377430541360?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5754329377430541360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5754329377430541360' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5754329377430541360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5754329377430541360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-not-all-good-and-its-not-all-bad.html' title='Its not all good, and its not all bad'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8102214006957289252</id><published>2009-04-22T11:30:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T14:02:01.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Scranton</title><content type='html'>Laziness (also called indolence) is a disinclination to activity or exertion despite having the ability to do so. This is bad, right? Wrong. Okay, calm down there Mom. I know that I won't get anywhere in life with that attitude......or will I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the deal, or the rundown as I like to put it, or the skinny as they sometimes say. We have all been told our whole lives that being lazy is bad. But I don't think that is entirely true. Its like having that one cookie an hour before dinner is really going to ruin our appeitite. Its a parental myth. Now don't get me wrong, some forms of laziness are bad(see &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=145457&amp;amp;l=c703a003fd&amp;amp;id=501395160"&gt;Zach &lt;/a&gt;while beating DK II). But honestly I think laziness breeds &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ingenuity"&gt;ingenuity&lt;/a&gt;(its a real word katelyn and nadia, check it). How so you ask? Here are some examples: Alexander Graham Bell, this dude was was the epitome of lazy. He was like "ugh, I need to talk to ol' blacksmith Bill but I don't want to walk the 50 paces to get there, I wish there was a way I could just......call him? Brilliant idea old chap!" Boom, telephone right there. Henry Ford, this guy was always complaining about "having to put all these parts on the car by my self, I just wish there were 50 of us standing in a line and we each put one part on over and over and over" Bam, assembly line. Oh, don't even get me started on Niel "I love to jump but earth's gravity is just way to strong for me to actually enjoy it" Armstrong. Ya, thats right, space flight came from that lazy A-hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see three of the biggest inventions/events in the last 150 years came from three really lazy people. They are remember by us for these contributions, but if you told any of their co-workers at the time they would have done these things they would have said "Who? That lazy bastard?" So don't be too quick to judge, that lazy person just might be working on the next great thing while sitting there doing nothing. And thats just another lazy and possible great life in the day of Thome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8102214006957289252?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8102214006957289252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8102214006957289252' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8102214006957289252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8102214006957289252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/lazy-scranton.html' title='Lazy Scranton'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-45293515428474654</id><published>2009-04-14T20:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:34:42.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calender days</title><content type='html'>So we've all done it. And by it I mean read our horoscopes. It s a fun little paragraph that at end of reading it we all either say "hey, that describes me perfectly" or say "whoops, I just read the wrong month." While they are fun and all I think it should be taken a step further, and by a step further I mean add more letters to it to get your monthly HORRORSCOPE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12/22 - 1/19: You decide to sit by a nice toasty fire and read a nice toasty book about toast. The perfect evening you think. It is, until a nice toasty ember sparks out of the fireplace and sets the living room on fire. Now you are having second thoughts about decking the halls with those flammable boughs of holly aren't you.&lt;br /&gt;1/20 -2/18: Ah Febtober, the month of love. Don't you just wish it never had to end, well it won't this year since you are locked up in the county jail after your "girlfriend" convinced you to go streaking with her and that she would be "right behind" you. While you couldn't outrun the cops lets hope you can at least outrun your new friend Bubba.&lt;br /&gt;2/19 - 3/20 March Madness, nope. More like Shear Madness, a play set in a unisex hair salon in Boston. The characters include a flamboyant hairdresser and his flirty yet ditsy assistant, along with a prim and proper uptight older lady and an older man who is a "used antique dealer." Gives me the Kelsey Grammars just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;3/21 - 4/19: You go into work one morning and your boss calls you into his office and tells you that you're fired. As you sit there in shock you realize today is April 2nd, and since your boss likes practical jokes you figure he is just pulling an April fools joke a day late. After 45 minutes of you saying "hahahha nice one Chuck" while elbowing your boss in the ribs you are removed by security.&lt;br /&gt;4/20 - 5/20: You've had the effin munchies for 2 weeks now and its not from the medicinal marijuana. I hate to break it to you like this but.....you're pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;5/21 - 6/21 : You don't want to know the horrors of forgetting my birthday. Its May 26th you lousy friend, now go buy me a gift!&lt;br /&gt;6/22 - 7/22: While lighting fireworks you somehow light your shorts on fire. Later, while lying in a hospital bed severely burned you think about how your friends not only forgot your birthday but also stood around saluting your shorts and singing "my country tis of thee" while you ran around wildly trying to extinguish your self. You need better friends.&lt;br /&gt;7/23 - 8/22: After being released from the burn ward you decide to lay by the pool and relax. Safe enough right? Well you fall asleep for 6 hours and awake to the rest of you body being severely sunburned and then noticing that some one wrote "(insert name) SUX" in sunscreen. once again, you need better friends.&lt;br /&gt;8/23 - 9/22: Fully recovered from all your burns you decide to head down the the county fair and have some good ol fashioned fun. You decide to get some cotton candy, while there the machine malfunctions and somehow you end up covered in cotton candy. You spend the rest of the day being chased by carnies. They are everywhere, with their little hands grabbing you and and the stench of cabbage overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;9/23 -10/22: The wonderful smell of fresh air, the birds singing as a gentle breeze slowly moves through the trees as gunshots ring out around you. This really is the perfect day to be outside in the woods except for that it is the first day of hunting season and you are playing your favorite childhood game called deer. You know the one where you spend the day dressed up as a deer. Lets just hope you don't end up like poor uncle mike. He shouldn't have jumped out at that hunter while playing bear.&lt;br /&gt;10/23 - 11/21: While helping clean up after the local spook alley you notice they are just going to throw away the spaghetti they used as brains. You can't have that! After consuming all the brains you don't feel to good. I think that one is going to haunt you for several days.&lt;br /&gt;11/22 - 12/21: After watching Jim Carrey do his version of the Grinch you think hey that's not a bad idea. Well it was. You get busted after the second house that you stole all the toys from and now you get to spend the holidays with your ol' pal Bubba.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-45293515428474654?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/45293515428474654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=45293515428474654' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/45293515428474654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/45293515428474654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/calender-days.html' title='Calender days'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7286435482122799706</id><published>2009-04-06T20:12:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:33:20.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Shots Part Duex</title><content type='html'>Interactive Tuesday is back! um, on Monday though. Well today's poll is who is funnier? English Tom Widdison or American Tom Widdison. I will give you some examples from facebook. Please vote.&lt;br /&gt;In this Corner, in the blue trunks, weighing in at 190 pounds, ENLGISH TOM WIDDISON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Is going to buy one of those big anvils made by ACME and wait at the top of a cliff to drop it on someones head&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Is fookin tired&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Take 2 bottles into the shower?? not me I use 1 and I've washed and gone!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Wishes the insulin boy would shut his fookin grid&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Had a dream last night that England were winning 2.0 with 80 mins on the clock but then the dream switched to fluffy poodles&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Will never get bored of laughing at cars driving with dogs sticking out the window...&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Is in bed with jon wilson fully clothed listening to stevie wonder&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Is wondering why the resident diabetic has the tv on so loud?&lt;br /&gt;Tom Widdison Is in the bath Naked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the other corner, in the red trunks, weighing in at 150 pounds wet,  the prince of pain, the ale of destruction, AMERICAN TOOOOOOM WIDDISON!&lt;br /&gt;well, uh. you know...... um COME ON! Give me the benefit of the doubt, you know me! I'M FUNNY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7286435482122799706?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7286435482122799706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7286435482122799706' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7286435482122799706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7286435482122799706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/hot-shots-part-duex.html' title='Hot Shots Part Duex'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2572905121903575451</id><published>2009-03-31T15:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T16:39:50.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People watching.</title><content type='html'>People are funny.  The end, but seriously.  Look at Zach, some might think he is mean but hes a riot. He uses sarcasm the way it is supposed to be used, to make people think you hate them. Ford is the funniest person I know, hands down. Quinn is funny looking, I could go on but you get where I am going with this. People are just funny. Especially random people. Cause I'm sure that 90% of them don't mean to be but I find it funny. Here are a couple examples:&lt;br /&gt;Example 1: This is a post I found on craigslist.&lt;br /&gt;Motel 6 doesn't get ABC! Can you believe it? I've been here on business from Boise, and would love to watch lost with some fans-, well adjusted, non-scary fans, that is. My wife would be upset if I died trying to watch lost.&lt;br /&gt;I can bring soda or green jello. Ok, soda.&lt;br /&gt;Please email me if you want company. Jared&lt;br /&gt;I think Jared here is in the 10% that means to be funny, and he is. I think I might email him and see if he wants to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;Example 2: This guy isn't in the 10%. At work today I watched this guy examine and poke all the parts I have hanging on the wall in our pro shop. He would get real close and just tap it. Everything! It didn't matter if it was metal, rubber or our secretary. He was like he had just been thawed like Brenden Frasier from Encino Man and had no idea what all this stuff was.&lt;br /&gt;Example 3: Our neighbors. They make this list only because we think we are funny. They have to think we are the weirdest people ever. Our door has a plastic rat hanging from it. We took a shirt, pants, and gloves and laid them out in front of their door as if it was a person lying there. We continually put our furbies in the hall. Every time we hear them opening their door we shut off our lights and look through the cracks of the door at them and shine a laser pointer at them. Last night as I was walking in the door started to open, me thinking it was Zach or Ford started pretending to sneak in but it was our neighbor. Sure I could have started acting normal or said hi but I continued to "sneak" the rest of the way in. And then there was when we left dog food and water out for the other neighbors dog, but that's a whole different story.&lt;br /&gt;And that was another observation in a life in the day of Thome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2572905121903575451?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2572905121903575451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2572905121903575451' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2572905121903575451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2572905121903575451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/people-watching.html' title='People watching.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7522649085981691544</id><published>2009-03-27T16:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T16:33:32.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fonzie scheme</title><content type='html'>A lot of people lately have been asking why I do what I do. Is it for the kids, they say. Or is it for the betterment of mankind, they ponder aloud. All I can do is sit there and chuckle to my self(ctms for all you texters out there) as they throw out all these scenarios for doing what I do, cause really I am just doing it to get the girls. duh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7522649085981691544?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7522649085981691544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7522649085981691544' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7522649085981691544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7522649085981691544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/fonzie-scheme.html' title='Fonzie scheme'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4477032370014078959</id><published>2009-03-24T15:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T15:56:34.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Attack of the Clones.</title><content type='html'>I think Tom Brady had a bit of a setback today with his knee.( see a life in the day of Thome, post #4, Friday, October 17, 2008)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4477032370014078959?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4477032370014078959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4477032370014078959' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4477032370014078959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4477032370014078959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/attack-of-clones.html' title='Attack of the Clones.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1753114358082779986</id><published>2009-03-21T11:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T11:57:21.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An age old question</title><content type='html'>If I were a hot dog would I eat myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is yes, yes I would.&lt;br /&gt;Now I am off to forage for some food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1753114358082779986?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1753114358082779986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1753114358082779986' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1753114358082779986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1753114358082779986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/age-old-question.html' title='An age old question'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1068920796025319518</id><published>2009-03-17T16:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:44:13.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mahana you ugly!</title><content type='html'>If you are a fan of the Beatles you are probably familiar with all the subliminal messages associated with their music. But I think I just stumbled across one and it.....is......HUGE! In the song "Can't buy me love"  I believe Paul and John were talking about overthrowing the free market based on hard currency. Ya, I know. HUGE.&lt;br /&gt;A casual listener might listen to this song and think it is about how said songwriters are in love and are wishing to express said love. To the hopeless romantics out there the simple lyric of "money can't buy me love" almost shuts down their entire nervous system leaving them in a state of complete and utter uselessness prime for the "sweeping off their feet" move. But us heartless romantics out there know something just isn't right about this. Money can and will buy you love(see pinnacle, apx, golden climax and Billie Joel). So what are you up to Sir Paul?&lt;br /&gt;As we look at the lyrics, Paul offers to buy her a diamond ring, IF that would make you feel alright. He then offers to get anything, IF that would make you feel alright. But then he changes his tone a bit, he says "I don't care too much for money, cause money can't buy me love" Now here is where he interjects his radical thinking of .......THE BARTER SYSTEM!  He hits you with these two lines "I'll give you all I got to give if you say you love me too" and "I may not have a lot to give but what I got I'll give to you" before you know it you are standing there with 3 goats and a used ticket to the Ed Sullivan Show while Paul and Lennon ride off into the sunset with your love. Coincidence? I think not! If you play the song backwards during the line "I may not have a lot to give but what I got I'll give to you" you can distinctly here John saying "here, take these goats"&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I really like the idea of the barter system. I mean, it did work out for Johnny Lingo.&lt;br /&gt;And that is another mystery solved in the Life in the day of Thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1068920796025319518?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1068920796025319518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1068920796025319518' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1068920796025319518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1068920796025319518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/mahana-you-ugly.html' title='Mahana you ugly!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-669258035453496036</id><published>2009-03-08T23:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T23:36:29.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love sundays</title><content type='html'>I am copying Amy but its okay cause we are besties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not hydroplaning off the road on the way to church.&lt;br /&gt;Sacrament meeting talks by the branch president and stake president.&lt;br /&gt;Gospel Principles class.&lt;br /&gt;Being on missionary council.&lt;br /&gt;My stake president randomly giving me a loaf of bread. It tastes good.&lt;br /&gt;Pain meds that work even though my cold meds don't.&lt;br /&gt;Cuddling with Baby Holland.&lt;br /&gt;How Cassidy just jumps when she's excited.&lt;br /&gt;Chicken nuggets.&lt;br /&gt;Watching Pokemon DP because it is the only thing that calms all of the kids down.&lt;br /&gt;Text conversations.&lt;br /&gt;Friends on missions.&lt;br /&gt;Friends who are getting ready to go on missions.&lt;br /&gt;Missionaries in general.&lt;br /&gt;"So I heard there were brownies."&lt;br /&gt;"Are those brownies in that bag?"&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I should just always carry around brownies to give to people." "That would be a good idea."&lt;br /&gt;Dianna.&lt;br /&gt;Jordan listening to me talk about my concerns about the branch and giving advice even though council meeting was over and he probably wanted to go home.&lt;br /&gt;Riding home from church with Jason.&lt;br /&gt;People who share my excitement with me.&lt;br /&gt;Institute.&lt;br /&gt;FHE and half price apps.&lt;br /&gt;Church in general.&lt;br /&gt;Besties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-669258035453496036?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/669258035453496036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=669258035453496036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/669258035453496036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/669258035453496036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-i-love-sundays.html' title='Why I love sundays'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2229358309557960090</id><published>2009-03-02T12:55:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T17:46:05.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hellz Ya!</title><content type='html'>So hell is my new favorite word. Get over it. I really don't see hell as a swear word. I know, I know, you're saying right now but, but, but it is. And while your reasoning is bulletproof, I just don't agree. I'm not dissing heck either, just saying it doesn't always get the point across. Here are some of my favorite usages.&lt;br /&gt;In agreement: "Do you want to go to Horkleys?" "Hellz ya!"&lt;br /&gt;When asked to make a decision: "Ah hell, I don't know"&lt;br /&gt;When speaking as English Tom Widdison: "ah bloody hell, that ref wouldn't know a yellow card from a red card if I shoved it up his fookin arse and showed him"&lt;br /&gt;When someone does something that I don't understand "What in THE hell are you ......."(the emphasis on the is very, very important)&lt;br /&gt;When responding no to a question "Hell no!'&lt;br /&gt;Or how I say it around little kids. Example one "ah H E double hockey sticks" Example two: "Helllllllo operator I need the number for the book depository."&lt;br /&gt;In church: " And woe unto the liar for he shall be thrust down to hell"&lt;br /&gt;Giving directions: "Go to hell......street. mmmmmkay, and when you get there you're going to want to take a right. Don't do it, go left instead and it will be right in front of you."&lt;br /&gt;When I touch something hot "HOLY HELL THAT'S HOT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well those are just a few of my favorite things......to say with the word hell. So please don't get offended if and when I use it around you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2229358309557960090?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2229358309557960090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2229358309557960090' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2229358309557960090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2229358309557960090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/hellz-ya.html' title='Hellz Ya!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-2701390499664093009</id><published>2009-02-24T12:14:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T12:49:50.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interactive tuesdays</title><content type='html'>Seinfeld fans out there might recall the episode where Jerry wakes up in the middle of the night and writes down what thinks is a very funny bit. But in the morning he can't read his handwriting. I had similar experience this morning. I remember waking up and laughing to myself about this little scenario that played through my head. It was about 4 or 5 in the morning so no one was awake so I could tell them, I thought about waking Zach up but he probably wouldn't be awake enough to find it funny(side note, sometimes when I can't sleep I am tempted to wake Zach up and tell him that he is late for work...just to entertain myself) So I just went back to sleep. So now I can't remember why it was so funny. All remember is wondering what the people who feed the bears at bear world are thinking? Because they are potentially the food themselves. So here are four possible answers, you pick which one is the funniest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Before I got this job I thought bears were carnivores. I'm so glad my boss pointed out they only eat plants. Hey bear, come get your rabbit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Say Bill, what did you say happened to the last guy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Please for the love of all that is holy, not today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. These are black bears right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYkWWnZm6-w"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYkWWnZm6-w&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-2701390499664093009?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2701390499664093009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=2701390499664093009' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2701390499664093009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/2701390499664093009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/interactive-tuesdays.html' title='Interactive tuesdays'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5244818413321107970</id><published>2009-02-11T12:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T12:59:26.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Mike</title><content type='html'>I recently experienced a wide range of emotions over the new like button on facebook. When I first logged in and saw it I was confused. "What in the wide world of sports is this" I chuckled to my self. Soon I was intrigued by it. But what does it do? Then my curiosity got the best of me and I clicked it. Now I was excited, I had to tell everyone I could that I liked stuff! But before long I became jealous, other people were liking stuff too. I felt pure hatred every time I saw someones name say they liked something that I too had liked. Then a funny thing happened, I felt joy. No, not the girl that works down the street cause that would be assault brotha, but the emotion of joy. I felt this because I realized that everyone liked stuff and that we could in fact all get along. As soon as I felt that I became bored with like. I hate joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5244818413321107970?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5244818413321107970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5244818413321107970' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5244818413321107970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5244818413321107970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/like-mike.html' title='Like Mike'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1465399535966951886</id><published>2009-02-02T15:50:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T16:19:30.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Murray</title><content type='html'>So it turns out that I am either a groundhog or like unto a groundhog. Every morning I awake from my hibernation if you will and then proceed to look for my shadow. But alas it is never there which means work comes way to early yet again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1465399535966951886?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1465399535966951886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1465399535966951886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1465399535966951886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1465399535966951886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/bill-murray.html' title='Bill Murray'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7641480569116019552</id><published>2009-01-24T11:40:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T17:14:42.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My 75 year plan</title><content type='html'>So, I am wondering what my "legacy" will be. What I will be remembered for. You know what I mean, like in 15 to 20 years when I pop up in peoples mind what the first memory of me is. I bet that they will be like "oh he was really funny" or "man was he handsome" or "gosh darn he was nice" sure, sure these things are nice and all but I want something that really stands out. Something no one will forget. So here are a few scenarios that I would like to see play out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I would like to experience a life altering event that causes me to withdraw from society and build a masterpiece. Like some sort of structure that is really tall and leans to one side but doesn't fall down(no relation to the leaning tower of Pisa, cause that tower sucks). Or a labyrinth that never ends. But then it does end, and at the end is not David Bowie, but a sign that says exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Develop a cure for quicksand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Be involved in a police chase. You know one along the lines of the one in Blues Brothers or Raising Arizona. There are three main parts that this chase must include. First, the beginning, duh. But I would prefer that is starts when I run from a building just as the cops show up. Prompting me to state the obvious and yell "COPS!" Second, the actual chase. This part has to include a lot of running and knocking over stuff. Also a very key part in this section that I think a lot of people overlook is the chance for humor to be injected into the situation. For example, as you are running you might run by a mirror and stop to make sure you still look sharp. You and a buddy may be escaping together and you stop to talk to an attractive lady and he comes back and yanks you away. Or my personal favorite would be you are running as fast as you can and you take an elevator, or an escalator and there is the awkward couple of seconds where you just stand there, you just stand there. Third, the part where it appears that you are cornered. This usually results in one of two things. A, you are cornered. B, you escape by some sort of miracle and or ineptness of the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I could put win the lottery here but c'mon, lets be serious, that wouldn't make me stand out. 20 years from now someone would be "oh hey, I had a friend who won the lottery once, what was his name, it sounded kinda like marbles the frown or something like that, I don't know" Ya, not what I am going for. Instead I could become someone that could always pick the right numbers. People could hire me and I would whisper the numbers in their ear. I would be known as the Lottery Whisperer. Ya, that sounds good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Be the first man to walk on the moon, right Zach? Eh? Eh? Eh! You know what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's just a couple things that came to mind to help people always remember me. But hey, that's what living this life in the day of Thome is all about, that and picking up chicks. HONK HONK. jk, but seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7641480569116019552?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7641480569116019552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7641480569116019552' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7641480569116019552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7641480569116019552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-75-year-plan.html' title='My 75 year plan'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-342530249110699960</id><published>2009-01-16T20:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T21:22:51.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MTN DEW!</title><content type='html'>So sometimes i forget that people that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know me too well don't get that i am always sarcastic and if they say something dumb I usually call them out on it. Well today at work I had this customer that kept complaining about this part and how GM should fix it and he kept saying over and over that I should call GM and let them know they have a problem with this part. Usually I control myself with customers but this guy just kept going on and on about so I finally said "let me get the general of the motors on the phone right now." I think he realized I was making fun of him cause he didn't bring it up again. But I can just picture this happening and me actually calling the general of the motors. He would be in an important meeting and his secretary would come in and say"Mr. Motors?" and hey would yell "WHAT!"  "Sir, Tom is on line one for you" He would answer the phone and say "Tom you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chode&lt;/span&gt;! I owe you a shot to the nuts!"  We would chat for a bit about the war, our fishing trips and how how everyone is old and fat. Then we would hang up without discussing the original reason I called but I would tell the customer that they are "on it" and I will let you know.&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, Mountain Dew changed the look of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; cans. I am stunned. they no longer spell out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mountain&lt;/span&gt;. Its just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;MTN&lt;/span&gt; DEW. It just shows how bad the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;economy&lt;/span&gt; really is. They can no longer afford the O,U,N,A, and I. Vanna White would be rolling over in her grave if she was dead. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Welp&lt;/span&gt;, I am off to do..something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-342530249110699960?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/342530249110699960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=342530249110699960' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/342530249110699960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/342530249110699960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/01/mtn-dew.html' title='MTN DEW!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-6504462618354893812</id><published>2009-01-01T20:20:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T21:34:40.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MAKE IT MINE, 2009</title><content type='html'>Well, Well, Well, So we meet again 2009. Silence &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Octopussy&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I have had some good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;experiences&lt;/span&gt; on new years eve the last few years, I would like to share some of them with you.&lt;br /&gt;2003 - As a missionary you would think that new years eve would be boring. Well you are correct but I still enjoyed it. Our mission president gave us permission to stay up until midnight(thanks dad). But no t.v. and no party makes new years dull right. Well we played &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uno&lt;/span&gt; and phase ten and we snuck out and borrowed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;neighbor&lt;/span&gt; kids razor scooters and rode the block to the 7-11 for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Slurpee's&lt;/span&gt;. Ya, go ahead and say it. We were rebels with out a cause.Except our cause were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Slurpee's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2004 - drove to Ohio. Wait that one sucked. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;never mind&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2005 - The Vegas. This trip was highlighted by two things. First we stayed in complete strangers houses all week. The first guy we got there and he says "oh ya, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; leaving at 6 in the morning. just lock the door when you leave" uh, okay. At 6 in the a.m. some guy keeps knocking on the door. Steve and I have the same thought. If we act like we are asleep maybe he will go away. Except Steve blew it by looking up and they guy was looking through the window and saw him. But we stuck with the whole "asleep"thing. Second, some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Asian&lt;/span&gt; tourist gave us tickets to this 4d show.&lt;br /&gt;2006 - Snowboarding in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Breckenridge&lt;/span&gt;, CO. Best new years ever. The snow was sweet, the resort was awesome. We saw Shaun White &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tearin&lt;/span&gt; up the park, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;NBD&lt;/span&gt;. Two funny stories about this year. First while snowboarding, I lost control and ran into my buddy,Asian Ryan. My board went over his and between his legs and I knocked him down. So he is on his back and laying on my board, I can't move cause he is on my board. I'm tell him to move but he can't, he is yelling "get off me!" but I can't move either. Best part, this all happened right under the chair lift. Second, right at midnight in d-town Denver this guy comes up and starts rapping to us, here it is"Life ain't so hard living in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;penitentiary&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;OOOOH&lt;/span&gt; FIREWORKS!" and the he walks off, distracted by the fireworks. A couple of minutes later we watch a guy get arrested and as he is being led off in handcuffs he looks at us and say" happy new years"nice guy really. Oh and driving in the middle of the night in a blizzard I almost hit a stroller in the middle of the freeway. Not sure if there was or was not a baby in there.&lt;br /&gt;2007-(footage missing)&lt;br /&gt;2008 - The Vegas II. Nothing too noteworthy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Shannee&lt;/span&gt; did have these furry boots that I tried to return to the wild and she got really mad at me for trying to leave her boots in the middle of the desert. And I might have caused a baby brain damage. We were playing bang your head into the pillow, I may or may not have moved the pillow and his head made contact with the floor. He still doesn't talk. Not my fault though&lt;br /&gt;2009- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;SLC&lt;/span&gt;. Quinn and I went traveled to Salt Lake this year. It was a ton of fun. We scored free tickets to the Utah-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Gonzaga&lt;/span&gt; game but didn't go. Then we mostly hung out in D-town and waited for midnight. Quinn decided he needed to kiss 5 girls by midnight so we didn't see a lot of him, just randomly in the crowd. Although I did see him almost make out with a big black guy. True story. I touched a guy with a big red feathery coat. Tried to eat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Shannee's&lt;/span&gt; coat(i was hungry) and then after midnight I kept &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;wishing people&lt;/span&gt; happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;. This one drunk guy was really confused. He was heard mumbling as he walked off, "what is that guy talking about, its not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;, its new years" Then in the car this guy honks at us and we roll the window down, this was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;conversation&lt;/span&gt;. him"happy new years!' me"happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;" him "no man, happy new year"me"happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;?" him "ya, happy mother &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;effin&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;!' me "oh in that case, happy new years!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-6504462618354893812?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6504462618354893812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=6504462618354893812' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6504462618354893812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6504462618354893812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2009/01/make-it-mine-2009.html' title='MAKE IT MINE, 2009'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-6982119220093059079</id><published>2008-12-29T22:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T00:03:39.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Idaho two step</title><content type='html'>I almost died today. I walked out of the oil room at work which is located on the north side of the building with the door going outside. I guess I shut the door too hard cause all the built up ice came sliding off the roof. Several chunks of ice that were three feet long by two feet wide fell the 15 feet or so to the ground. If I had taken a step farther it would have ended up on my head. That was close. Anyways I won't go into what happened with the ninjas today, it just couldn't top this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-6982119220093059079?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6982119220093059079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=6982119220093059079' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6982119220093059079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6982119220093059079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/idaho-two-step.html' title='The Idaho two step'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4643704820914509600</id><published>2008-12-28T02:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T03:25:45.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life lessons learned from the Simpsons.</title><content type='html'>Beer-the cause and solution to all of life's problems&lt;br /&gt;The importance of obeying the laws of thermal dynamics&lt;br /&gt;No t.v. and no beer can and will make you crazy, in my case, no mt. dew&lt;br /&gt;When posed with the question of who do you hate more, France or Italy, no one ever picks Italy.&lt;br /&gt;Even though we can see that every other guy is a sucker for a pretty girl, we still do the exact same thing. D'oh!&lt;br /&gt;There is something that just isn't wholesome about flying a kite after dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4643704820914509600?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4643704820914509600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4643704820914509600' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4643704820914509600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4643704820914509600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-lessons-learned-from-simpsons.html' title='Life lessons learned from the Simpsons.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5568853073071438696</id><published>2008-12-23T21:55:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T22:06:25.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AMERICA'S TEAM!</title><content type='html'>Here's the deal, If you are a sports team and you have an undefeated season going for you, you don't want me as a fan. Twice this year while I was fishing, I mean twice this year teams that I am fans of lost their last game after winning all their previous games. The Patriots went 18-0 and then lost in the game that we do not speak of. Tonight Boise st. lost to TCU. I guess that means that I am going to have to forsake my affiliations with these teams so they have a chance in future seasons. I am now an official Dallas Cowboys fan. They all ready choke no matter what the situation is so I don't think my becoming a fan will hurt them at all. Unless its like math and two negative make a positive and then they become a clutch team. Lets hope that doesn't happen cause I really hate the Cowboys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5568853073071438696?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5568853073071438696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5568853073071438696' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5568853073071438696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5568853073071438696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/americas-team.html' title='AMERICA&apos;S TEAM!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-691700725420251233</id><published>2008-12-22T23:14:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T00:04:37.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SNOWNAMI!!!!</title><content type='html'>So we have a good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; fashioned &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;snownami&lt;/span&gt; on our hands tonight. The tale that I am about to relate ton&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ight&lt;/span&gt; might not be suitable for all ages. And now I present to you "Last minute Christmas shopping and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SNOWNAMI&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;Well it all started on December 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt; day to start and end all of your Christmas shopping. Well the weather ad been bad all day and was only getting worse. So when I get off work I made a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; to still go ahead and go to Idaho Falls. The drive down was pretty bad but nothing I couldn't handle so I figured that I had made the right choice. So get to z mall and start walking in. Now I hate shopping. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; hate shopping. I don't know why either. But I get what you could almost describe as an anxiety attack. Now I don't freak out and start crying in the fetal position in the canned good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;aisle&lt;/span&gt; but its close. In the parking lot I'm cool, but as soon as I step foot in a store I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; want to get out of there. When I know what I need its not so bad but on nights like tonight where I had to actually shop, its bad. So as soon as I walk in my immediate goal is to get stuff and leave. I try and not make eye contact with anyone cause I feel like I will have to explain why I am there and I don't know. Also if an employee comes up to see if I need help my first instinct is to kick them in the teeth but usually I hold back and just say no thanks. I head to Sears to get something manly for my pops, I still am nervous about being there but as soon as I get into the tool section I'm fine. No prob at all. So I wander around the tools for a while and find something for my Dad but then I have to leave the tool section to get to the checkout. Its twenty feet away, I come up with an escape plan in my head if I encounter a problem. I mill around for another minute and then make a break for it. I pay and then go to leave the store. Is it just me or is it a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;freaking&lt;/span&gt; maze to get out of these places. One time we got lost in a mall in Vegas and we asked someone how to get out and she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;responded&lt;/span&gt; "just go out and turn left" oh thanks lady, why didn't I think of that. So I go straight out and turn left and I'm out of sears. Now I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;gots&lt;/span&gt; to get something for Mom. I asked her what she wanted and she said "just get me a book" Oh thanks Mom, pick one of the few things I know nothing about. So now I am in Barnes &amp;amp; Noble, and I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; lost. I wander around for a few minutes and by now I am sweating. I swear its a 100 degrees in there. I can tell that everyone that looks at me in this store knows that I am a fraud and am just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;pretending&lt;/span&gt; like I read "books". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Every once&lt;/span&gt; and awhile I wander back over to the sports section to calm my self down and get collected. Finally I decide on a book and go to pay for it. The whole time I am waiting in line I am just praying the clerk doesn't ask me any questions. If she does, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;I'll&lt;/span&gt; just kick her in the teeth and make a break for it. I get up there and she asks "is this all?" I raise my foot to kick her in the teeth but then I realize "hey, I can answer this" so I say "maybe" damn, I really screwed that up all I had to say in "no" but no I have to go and leave it open for discussion. luckily she just smiles and puts it in a bag and I sprint for the door. At the door I stop, fix my tie(that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not wearing) and then strut into the parking lot. Oh and I also bought one of those digital picture frames and am going to fill it up with pictures of me for my parents, kinda like a shrine to myself, don't worry, most of you will be on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; so consider yourself lucky to be in my shrine at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Widdison&lt;/span&gt; Manor.&lt;br /&gt;Now with that out of the way I start my drive home. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Hit&lt;/span&gt; road is terrible, its almost drifted over. I get on the highway and my top speed is about 45 mph. At &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;some points&lt;/span&gt; it is so bad that I can see maybe 10 to 15 feet in front of my truck. Close to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Rexburg&lt;/span&gt; I am following a cop and and we both try to get off at the south &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Rexburg&lt;/span&gt; exit but it is so bad we both miss it cause we can't even see it, even though we are doing 20 mph, he then runs off the road at the top of the overpass and I almost followed him off, but he is able to back out and then we make it off the next exit. I've driven in a lot of bad weather but this was by far the worst I have ever driven in. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;SNOWNAMI&lt;/span&gt; 08 is even so bad that Ford and I can't e&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;ven&lt;/span&gt; open our fridge!&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways the moral of this story is how good of son I am I braved &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;SNOWNAMI&lt;/span&gt; and Christmas shoppers to get gifts for my parents. I could have died several times tonight but alas I did not. But I could have. And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; why I am the favorite son.&lt;br /&gt;The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-691700725420251233?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/691700725420251233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=691700725420251233' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/691700725420251233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/691700725420251233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/snownami.html' title='SNOWNAMI!!!!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-3966378303049587267</id><published>2008-12-20T23:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T00:39:23.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd rob a kwik-e-mart for you.</title><content type='html'>So I've spent alot of time by myself today which so I've had a lot of thoughts running through my head and with no one around to randomly share them with I will do so in blog form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not cutting my hair until the snow is gone. A couple buddies and I did this once and I had to cut mine early cause I was doing my mission papers and had look all presentable like so I feel like I cheated my self out of something special. My hair is already kinda long so I'm sure by mid march or so I'm going be really shaggy. Unkempt, if you will. Ya see here is the thing, I have really curly hair and when it gets long it is completely out of control. Like Lyndsie Lohan on a crack binge out of control. I know topside! But I'm going to give it a shot. Shoot, maybe at the end of winter I'll cut it into a mullet for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that I don't know how to work our heater. Eff you heater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need a new job. It just isn't working anymore. Here is my dilemma, technically I like my job. I like what I do, I am basically in control of what I do all day. Even though most of the people I work with are ignorant a-holes I actually do like them. I make good money for being in eastern Idaho and being only 25 and not a college graduate(but I am done with school). So my question is why do I not enjoy being at work anymore. Honestly I ask myself this everyday and I don't have a good answer. All I know is that I'm not happy with myself while I am there. The only thing I can think of is that I can't really be myself at work.  I like to think that I am a pretty laid back and chill person that above everything else I just like to joke around and have fun.  Work can be a pretty stressful environment and I end up being uptight and kind of a dick and I don't like being that way. Also I think I'm burned out, I spent a year working out of mobile trailers and storage units cause our dealership burned down and it just wore me out mentally. I don't think I've recovered from that. Welp, I'm done ranting about that&lt;br /&gt;I think I figured out the heater cause it is somewhat warm in here. So sorry for the outburst early.&lt;br /&gt;Even though there is no one to hear all my witty comments they are still freaking funny. But I don't get as much enjoyment out of them. Don't get me wrong, I still laugh cause come on, it was funny. But it would just be better if other people heard them too, really I think the world is being deprived of laughter and somewhere babies are dying because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to a lot of Limbeck lately.  Seriously could these guys be any cooler. The last two times I have seen them I think I enjoyed listening to them talk in between songs just as much as the songs them selves. Their music is awesome also. I've listened to Limbeck for a couple years now, when I first heard of them I listened to the one cd of theirs I had constantly. I'm doing the same now. For some reason its just what I need to listen to. But back to them being cool, just watch this and you will know that they are awesome. I know with every fiber of my being, jk but seriously. Bored in a hotel in Cleveland at 2 in the morning? Snoworries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZB3qGLZZuk&amp;amp;feature=channel"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZB3qGLZZuk&amp;amp;feature=channel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-3966378303049587267?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3966378303049587267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=3966378303049587267' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/3966378303049587267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/3966378303049587267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/id-rob-kwik-e-mart-for-you.html' title='I&apos;d rob a kwik-e-mart for you.'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8969085746999153400</id><published>2008-12-16T23:06:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:30:42.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's know best....</title><content type='html'>Growing up my mom always told me I was special. Here is a good example of why. I just returned from a simple drive around the formally populated town of Rexburg. I went to the bank, stopped by the icy church parking lot(for strictly secular reasons) drove over and through a couple piles of snow and then was headed to the Tom Cruise. Well as I was driving I could feel that somehow I had gotten my shoelace inside my shoe and it was starting to annoy me. So I reached down and tried to pull it out. Turns out the whole loop was in my shoe and by pulling on it it had grabbed a hold of my little toe and had tried to bend it backwards. This was a little bit uncomfortable as you can imagine so I pulled off my shoe to relieve this pain. So here comes the special part. I try and put my shoe back on but it requires my right hands assistance. Without thinking I put my arm through the steering wheel to do this while I steer with my left hand. And since I have been putting on my own shoes for close to 23 years now I accomplished this feat rather easy. But then I try to bring my arm back through the steering wheel but it doesn't come back out quite as easily as it went through. Somehow I can't quite figure out how I need to bend my elbow as to allow my arm to come out, keep in mind I am still driving at this point. To make a long story short it took me about a block to finally get my arm out of the steering wheel. I'm glad this happened, in fact the only thing that I wish was different was that this happened in rush hour traffic. I can just imagine this happening and me struggling to get my arm out when I look over at the car next to me and the passengers are just staring at me, mouths open, head slightly cocked to the left. That's when you smile, nod your head with a little wave and if you happen to be at a complete stop roll down your window and say "pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?" And this was another life in the day of Thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8969085746999153400?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8969085746999153400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8969085746999153400' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8969085746999153400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8969085746999153400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/moms-know-best.html' title='Mom&apos;s know best....'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5639848873289175350</id><published>2008-12-15T00:59:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T01:25:17.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Duck Tales</title><content type='html'>So my good friend Shannee reminded me of a funny experience I had a couple years ago. It was a summer day in 2006. Hawaiian Steve, Harry Steve, Jumangi and I are were out driving around looking for apartments since we had to be out of ours the next day. So of course this was the first time we spent looking for one. We had embarked a couple hours earlier on our quest for living arrangements but had wasted time as usual. We made the usual stops at Horkleys, a eating establishment and were on our way to our FHE sisters apartment to waste some more time. So as we are driving down first west towards the stadium we see this duck run across the road. We all look at each other for a split second and then realize what it is we have to do. Capture this duck and make it our pet. We quickly pull over and by this time the duck is in the parking lot of the stadium. The Steve's and Jumangi quickly surround it but the duck lunges at Hawaiian Steve and he leaps out of the way to protect himself. Before I know it its just me and this crazed duck. I step in front of him but he hits the X button on his X-Box controller and spins away from me. Now he is running under all the parked cars on the side of the street. I run ahead hoping to cut him off. I turn thinking I am far enough ahead of him but we bump into each other. He heads for the street. During this whole chase the only thought in my head is "I'm going to have a pet duck! I am going to have a pet duck!" I can tell by the look in his eyes that all he is thinking is "I'm going to be a pet duck! I am going to be a pet duck!" He runs into traffic, I know what will happen. I yell for him to stop but he doesn't understand me since I don't speak French. The car's front tire misses him but the rear tire hits its mark. The sound of this can only be described as a pillow full of feathers and pretzels getting smashed. We all freeze and look at each other. A possible three seconds pass before we all bust into uncontrolled laughter. That just happened.&lt;br /&gt;A week passed and we skated past the scene. All that was left were feathers ground into the pavement. We couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible, but hey if he would have come peacefully it could have been avoided. And that was a day in the life of Thome, circa 2006&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5639848873289175350?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5639848873289175350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5639848873289175350' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5639848873289175350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5639848873289175350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/duck-tales.html' title='Duck Tales'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8074970229513989105</id><published>2008-12-01T12:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T15:19:34.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wayne's Wild World of College Football</title><content type='html'>The Oklahoma-Texas debate has been keeping me up lately. Don't get me wrong, if asked who I thought was the best team in the country I would say Oklahoma hands down or up. When you can hang 60 points on pretty much all of the big 12 this year you've made a great case to be called that. But Texas makes a great point also. They did beat Oklahoma at a neutral site. The score of that game doesn't matter, only that Texas did in fact win that game. So what they are saying is "how can Oklahoma be playing for the national championship and not us when we beat them?" Good question. BUT then you have Texas Tech saying if you use that logic then we should be playing for the NC cause we beat Texas. Its madness I tell you , madness. Here is what I think should be done....A Kansas City Playoff!&lt;br /&gt;Kansas City Playoffs? Kansas City Playoffs? Yes I am talking about a Kansas City playoff Jim Mora. Here's the deal, First, bring the three teams in to a neutral site, then it works like overtime in college. Each team gets the ball at the 25 yard line and given a chance to score. The game goes until one team can't match the others score. Since there is three teams it would only be fair if it was double &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;elimination&lt;/span&gt;. The winner then is your big 12 south champion and goes to the big 12 championship and possibly the NC. This is fair to all involved since all three have high scoring offense that have no trouble scoring and match up quite well. Of course this won't happen but it should. This isn't even a flaw with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt;, its a flaw with the Big 12 that should have some sort of rule &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;in place&lt;/span&gt; in case of a three way tie like we have instead of relying on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt; standings to break it. So for once we can't blame the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;BUT we can blame the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt; for what is most likely going to happen to Boise st. And blame we will. Boise st. is going to be punished for something that is out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; hands really. They can't control what teams are in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; conference or how well the teams that they play out of their conference play year to year(keep in mind a year ago a win over Dennis Dixon and his Oregon team would look really good on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; resume) they can only play the teams on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; schedule. So they have done that and looked really good doing it but because they are in the WAC they most likely will be left out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt; bowls this year while 2 loss Ohio state will most likely get a bowl bid. Which is a shame cause I think this team is more balanced than the one two years ago that beat Oklahoma. And we all know how well Ohio st. does in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt; bowls. But maybe we could make a new bowl game that that fits teams perfectly that are in this position. We'll call it the we got screwed bowl presented by Ace hardware. That should provide some sort of comfort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8074970229513989105?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8074970229513989105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8074970229513989105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8074970229513989105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8074970229513989105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/12/waynes-wild-world-of-college-football.html' title='Wayne&apos;s Wild World of College Football'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7930262976820980979</id><published>2008-11-30T17:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T17:32:56.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep thoughts by Kevin Costner</title><content type='html'>(empty)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7930262976820980979?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7930262976820980979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7930262976820980979' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7930262976820980979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7930262976820980979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/deep-thoughts-by-kevin-costner.html' title='Deep thoughts by Kevin Costner'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5312855728945480356</id><published>2008-11-26T13:06:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T13:31:55.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pacman Jones</title><content type='html'>I have had more than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;usual&lt;/span&gt; amount of lint in my belly button lately. I've always imagined my belly button was like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pacman&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tm&lt;/span&gt;), it would just sit there and make the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pacman&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tm&lt;/span&gt;) noise(you know, waggle waggle waggle waggle, ask me and I'll demonstrate for you....hand motions and all) and eat everything in sight, hence why you get lint in your belly button. So with all this extra lint adding up it leaves me with one conclusion. That I'm going to have a lot of shirts with holes in them. Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5312855728945480356?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5312855728945480356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5312855728945480356' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5312855728945480356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5312855728945480356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/pacman-jones.html' title='Pacman Jones'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5331940385862266789</id><published>2008-11-19T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T13:16:54.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irish Spring</title><content type='html'>A lot of people wonder what I do for work, I usually tell them its something with numbers and leave it at that. Well today you are in luck as I will explain more in depth of what I do here.&lt;br /&gt;I work at Rigby Chevrolet in the parts department(with numbers). I look up parts and purchase them and arrange their travel to our shop and also in charge of disposal of the trolls. Yep, that's right trolls. If you are not familiar with how cars work you wouldn't understand this but inside every engine and transmission there are miniature trolls that actually work inside of them and that's what makes them go. "Well Thome" you ask "Why do we need gasoline then?" That's because they are miniature Irish trolls silly.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, when we replace an engine or transmission we have to dispose of said trolls which is not as easy as it sounds. They come out of there all punch drunk off of high octane gasoline, spitting, cussing, and urinating everywhere. It can be a real mess. I would like to relate a story of trying to capture one such troll yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;I had just finished listening to Patrick's(from Limbeck) radio show on which he had a live set from Steel Train that he had recorded in his garage(said with an English accent). When one of our techs came in and told me he needed and engine. "Of course! No problem" I sighed to my self and proceeded to put on my troll handling gloves and goggles. Then as we went in the shop we saw our worst fear. The trolls had escaped and were running amok in the shop! We had to act quickly for they were attacking the bearded unicorns on a nearby corvette. But they saw us coming and took off towards the oil drums. Now this was cause for panic. If you ever seen gremlins, you will know that if you feed him after midnight you ended up with these nasty green monsters(gremlins) everywhere. Well its basically the same concept if these guys drink any pure 10w30 before happy hour. I grabbed my salad tongs from my back pocket and decided to try and head them off which was actually pretty easy considering they are 2 inches tall and aren't very fast. I caught the lead one and threw him into the near by vat of battery acid. We then hearded the rest into the back where we fed them to the stray cats that hang around. This near disaster had been avoided. And so ends another life in the day of Thome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5331940385862266789?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5331940385862266789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5331940385862266789' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5331940385862266789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5331940385862266789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/lot-of-people-wonder-what-i-do-for-work.html' title='Irish Spring'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1889686892897434451</id><published>2008-11-18T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:41:07.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sack Dance</title><content type='html'>To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, 'Hey, can you give me a hand?' you can say, 'Sorry, got these sacks.' - Jack Handey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1889686892897434451?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1889686892897434451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1889686892897434451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1889686892897434451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1889686892897434451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/sack-dance.html' title='Sack Dance'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-5656394683919107262</id><published>2008-11-11T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T10:59:27.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blackout Party</title><content type='html'>As seasoned readers will know Ford and I live in the projects in D-town Rexburg. Out apt. is quite ghetto but what do you expect from the projects? Pools? White picket fences? Heat? Come on be real.&lt;br /&gt;Ok so check this, last night this is what we had on that was using the the electricity. Two lights, one computer, and a set of speakers that were on but no music playing. So you would think that there isn't a huge strain on the power grid right? Wrong. I go to plug in a t.v.(that is not on so is not pulling any power) and as soon as I plug it in the outlet the lights flicker and then we are standing in darkness. No breakers popped oh and the bathroom lights still work. 15 minutes later they decide to come back on. I guess our apartment just had a mental breakdown and just needed a timeout. Ya, our apartment is cool like that, don't be jealous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-5656394683919107262?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5656394683919107262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=5656394683919107262' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5656394683919107262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/5656394683919107262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/as-seasoned-readers-will-know-ford-and.html' title='Blackout Party'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-4209174917053012928</id><published>2008-11-05T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T17:38:11.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I learned this election season......</title><content type='html'>So after months and months of hearing about votes and propositions and all the ins, outs and what have yous I think I finally can say that I have found some peace with the BSC. Pete Carroll said it best while wearing a hoodie and riding a surfboard this morning in his news conference "Hey man, every game is a playoff"&lt;br /&gt;That has been in my head all day long and realized that he is right. Sure we would all like to see a playoff system in college football that we could market like march madness(tm) but really its not feasible. Sure Watching Ohio St. get utterly destroyed the last two years in the championship game as made me wish I had a "real life" and hadn't shunned all those female advances during the season but would it have made a difference if we had a playoff system? Yes, but that's beside the point. Even in leagues that have playoff systems the championship game is lopsided quite often.&lt;br /&gt;So if you look at every game as a playoff it means so much more than just a game. It gets your players to play hard every game. They learn to focus and never let up or else they very well could be out of the "playoffs". These student athletes learn so much from this stressful atmosphere that they can take with them for the rest of their lives. And isn't that what college football is all about? Teaching these "kids" life lessons. Yes, Yes it is. So thank you BCS for helping make our countries future better and brighter. My hats off to you good sir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-4209174917053012928?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4209174917053012928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=4209174917053012928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4209174917053012928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/4209174917053012928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-i-learned-this-election-season.html' title='What I learned this election season......'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-1029020819141544064</id><published>2008-11-03T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T17:57:58.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thats all folks!</title><content type='html'>First of all I would like to apologize to everyone I came in contact with yesterday. For no specific reason other than I would like to just say sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that THATS out of the way, I would like to state that I wish real life was like a cartoon. Not the crappy ones that kids watch today, but the classics. Like Tom and Jerry. Here's the deal, (using Tom and Jerry as the example) Tom chases Jerry non stop, he throws everything he has at him. He tries to hit him with frying pans, hammers, anvils, even a double barrel shotgun. Each time it backfires and every item gets used on him. I once saw him stick his fingers in both barrels of the shotgun and Jerry pulled the trigger! In real life you could say bye bye to your paw but not Tom. Nope, his fingers just swelled up and became big red throbbing appendages! Tom eats a tweety bird....OH NO! Right? Wrong, the tweety bird walks up into his head behind his eyes and rolls up his eyeball like a window and walks out, and THEN shuts his eye behind him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to pull three valuable life lessons from Tom and Jerry while I was watching it today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. First off, if the "real" world were like this cartoon, we wouldn't have murder, sickness or even Michael Vick in prison. Why you ask? Well as stated above no one gets seriously harmed by anything. Sure, someone might get eatin here or there or fall several stories or get electrocuted but there is no serious injuries. Plus no one is ever in a bad mood for long cause at the end everyone is happy and laughing at what just happened. Also we wouldn't have any animal haters cause with all these funny cats and dogs running around talking, playing pranks on each other and playing guitar no one could hate them.(also dog fighting wouldn't be bad cause they couldn't get hurt, it would just be like the three stooges.....except dogs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. After re watching this i realize where my feeling of invincibility comes from. I really feel like i could get hit by a train and then be alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Animals are funny too. Seriously, I think just cause we own them doesn't mean that they don't have a sense of humor. In fact I am saddened because of this. Shoot, I bet my cat would be awesome to just sit on the couch and watch football with. I'm sure he would have all sorts of funny things to say. I bet it would be a lot like watching football with Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side notes:&lt;br /&gt;I often wonder where Tom would get all those objects and how Jerry made that little bed of his.&lt;br /&gt;Also one episode there was a cat with a Spanish accent chasing a Spanish mouse. Does that make them Tomas and Jorge?&lt;br /&gt;And so ends another life in the day of Thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-1029020819141544064?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1029020819141544064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=1029020819141544064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1029020819141544064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/1029020819141544064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/11/thats-all-folks.html' title='Thats all folks!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-8481533766366152960</id><published>2008-10-17T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T16:40:12.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Then Phantom Menace</title><content type='html'>So I've been having a lot of pain in my left knee for some reason this week.I've had three surgeries on it already and every once and a while it aches. Sure I have been hiking and played a little football but this time it seemed a little different. Kinda like it I wasn't the one experiencing it, you know like a phantom pain. Like if you lost a finger but you could still feel it. But I finally figured it out. Tom Brady had had a second surgery on his left knee this week, hence the pain i felt. Go figure, I guess Tom Brady and I are connected at the knee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-8481533766366152960?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8481533766366152960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=8481533766366152960' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8481533766366152960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/8481533766366152960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/then-phantom-menace.html' title='Then Phantom Menace'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-3736197375552671546</id><published>2008-10-12T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:50:20.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The food alone is worth the trip!</title><content type='html'>Man I hate getting up early, especially when you only went to sleep a few hours before. But it was for a good cause. We decided to go to our friend nick's farewell in Bozeman,MT. The weather didn't really think it was a good idea though. We made it to West Yellowstone(its south of north yellowstone) and the roads were just terrible so we decided to turn back. But of course we stopped for breakfast at this little place called "the running bear pancake house and something about dinner...." oh i remember the sign said dinners, probaly to avoid panic with the local folk thinking the had to rush there to get the one dinner that they served everyday. Anyways it was way good, i got the daggum biscuts and gravy. Wayne got the band aid flavored chocolate milk and a side of hash browns to go with his hash browns. Then we ate, made fun of Jamie for a while and then headed back. Everybody slept the whole way back, and by everyone i mean everyone. I was driving but i caught a few minutes of sleep thanks to my good ol buddy cruise control. Really its like auto pilot for cars, you can turn it on and then walk back and talk to all the passengers, hit on the stewardess and then walk back up and everything is still A-OK cause Mr. Autopilt had your back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo i that was about all i did today, oh watched football most of the day. OH and I wore my church clothes all day. Thats a first for a long long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-3736197375552671546?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3736197375552671546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=3736197375552671546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/3736197375552671546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/3736197375552671546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-alone-is-worth-trip.html' title='The food alone is worth the trip!'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-6831259649885935542</id><published>2008-09-09T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T12:07:41.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the projects</title><content type='html'>So i've had a couple of interesting lifes since the last post.  On saturlife we went to the eastern idaho state fair.  Talk about some interesting people.  There was this one chick that at first I thought her arm was in a sling for some sort of injury. nope, turns out she was just dressed really slutty. go figure. Then came HYPNODAWG!  His accent was cool but i saw right through his shenanigins. At one point he convinces the people he hypnotized that they couldn't see him and that there were ghosts on stage. He then walks around with a rubber chicken as if it is floating around and they all get scared. Give me a break. Its all smoke and mirrors if you will. I've done this trick to my nephews hundreds of times. First you hold out the chicken, make some dumb noise(either a woooooh noise or you talk like a priate) and then while they are looking at the chicken you slap them in the face real hard! makes them cry everytime.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was the opening day of the NFL season. Usually i go to bed that night all warm and fuzzy but this year was different. I cried myself to sleep over Tom Brady. What can I say that sucked. but I'm still excited for the season and fantasy football 08. I did make a bonehead move not starting Mcnabb but i gave everyone a freebie and now will start beating them like the little girls they are and enjoy watching them cry about it. And if that doesn't happen I'll pull out the ol rubber chicken trick. Either way they will cry.&lt;br /&gt;Also Ford and I have decided to move into the projects of rexburg. It is straight up d-town r-burg man. while were looking at the apartment we heard gunshots. no joke! But it was probaly just the thai people downstairs killing animals for their resturant. what ev. tune in next time for another life in the day of thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-6831259649885935542?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6831259649885935542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=6831259649885935542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6831259649885935542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/6831259649885935542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/projects.html' title='the projects'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676690408559690581.post-7620137029903042284</id><published>2008-09-04T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T12:12:10.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WELCOME</title><content type='html'>Oh hello, I didn't see you sitting there.  I know what you are thinking, Thome you switched the words life and day...silly you. Nay I say! I believe that in every day you have a life. let me tell you about my "life" today:&lt;br /&gt;I woke up, something I do just about everyday. I am supposed to be at work at 8:30 so thats when i wake up. I mill around for a while trying to find my keys cause who knows where i put them the night before. Then i drive to work, it takes about 15 minutes. So by this time its about 10 to 9. every few days my boss reminds me that I should be here on time and I usually say "okay, tomorrow i will be" Now thats not a blatent lie cause until tomorrow at 8:30 i fully intend on coming early but whatev. work was somewhat slow but thats fine cause I entertain my self with my little war with the mice that have overrun our building. Let me tell you , they are crafty little bastards. But I'm winning. I've only had the trap go off and get my fingers once so in your face mice.&lt;br /&gt;After Work I went hunting with my buddy asian ryan(kind of mean of his parents to name him that huh?) That was a nice getaway, I always love being up in the forest. I wish i could spend more time up there. Then later we(Quinn, SAc and I) went and saw Harper. We listened as she told us the stories of how she defeated Thom York and his merry fairies in the mythical land of THE FRANSISCO'S. good times. Then I went to sleep(something I do more often than wake up) and thus ended another life in the day of Thome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3676690408559690581-7620137029903042284?l=thomesworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7620137029903042284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3676690408559690581&amp;postID=7620137029903042284' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7620137029903042284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3676690408559690581/posts/default/7620137029903042284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thomesworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/welcome.html' title='WELCOME'/><author><name>Thome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05463219838866465802</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__vyqpdciIF4/SMAq6z7X1KI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mmgMiU6vrPs/S220/n193306295_32161542_2395.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
