<?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-19618503</id><updated>2011-11-06T02:05:28.056-06:00</updated><category term='law thoughts'/><category term='HTGBWET'/><category term='Science'/><category term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>how to get babes without even trying</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>228</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-825781643892698893</id><published>2010-03-13T03:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T03:55:38.940-06:00</updated><title type='text'>loneliness</title><content type='html'>Tonight I watched the movie Management, and the entire time watching it I kept getting this overwhelming sense of loneliness.  I don't know if it was because I was tired or because all of the characters in the show were lonely to begin with.  I do know that it put me in a thoughtful state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I updated my facebook page, sort of puttered around for a little while, and thought about things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing the weight watchers diet right now.  I'm not doing it to be healthy.  My family has been heavy for generations, and we all live to be about 85, except my grampa who, curiously, was pretty skinny.  He died in his 70s of a heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, health is a pretty low concern of mine.  Instead, I'm doing it because I completely understood that movie.  I am alone.  I am lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a funny thing to say, and it would be a funny thing, I would think, to hear, if you knew me.  I don't come off as lonely.  I have over 500 facebook friends, and of those, I honestly do have quite a few real ones.  I have a very close, very tight knit family.  I'm not even really afraid of anyone these days, not even REALLY pretty girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I sat down, I watched this movie, and I came face to face with the fact that I am a painfully lonely individual, who's decided to try to lose weight using weight watchers because he's now 29 and he's only had about 1 and 1/2 girlfriends and literally no prospects for any future ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at this.  In my very first post that wasn't a test post I wrote, "In an effort to stop taking myself so seriously (I'm sure that happens),  I've decided to create a blog specifically for talking about nothing,  cracking wise, and kicking ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I wrote.  Of course, I TITLED my damned site "how to get babes without even trying."  So what do you believe?  That I wanted to make a few jokes, or that I wanted to spend inordinate amounts of time talking about my inevitably failed attempts at getting babes?  Or, I guess, both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's really what weight watchers is.  It isn't something for people who want to be healthy, because NO ONE WANTS TO BE HEALTHY.  You don't wake up and think, "Hey, starting today, I'd like to be healthy, and I'd like to do so by losing a lot of weight!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, you wake up.  You look at yourself in the mirror, and you think, "This is why I am lonely."  And so you step on the scale, and now you can put a number on your loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you go out, and you learn control.  You learn that hunger is a good thing and feeling full is bad.  You learn that seeing the outlines of bones in your skin is wonderful.  You control.  You lose weight.  You get to your ideal weight.  You weigh yourself, and you go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you wake up, you look in the mirror, and you realize that the past few days/months/years haven't worked.  You did everything you were supposed to do, but the promise hasn't happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look in the mirror at your body, and you struggle with the fact that science says you are perfect, but you know that you are not.  Because you are still lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe science made a mistake.  Maybe you need to lose more weight.  Maybe an ideal weight for most people isn't the right weight for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a sad, sad world this is, where our primary hope for an end to the indomitable loneliness has nothing to do with our smiles or our hugs.  Where we get up and we even think that the mirror holds the key to the end of our misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny thing about populist movements is that they are very good at identifying problems, but extremely bad at identifying solutions that work.  In that sense, this post is absolutely worthless.  I know (and I'm guessing most everyone else knows) what the problem is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing is, just knowing about a problem isn't a solution.  And I have no real stomach to bother searching one out.  If you want to get babes, this isn't the way.  I don't know what the way is, but this isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead I'll just say that I did pretty well on my weight watchers points today, and I'm gonna go to sleep now, as lonely as I was when I woke up and as alone as I've been in a long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fuck it.  Just because I'm lonely doesn't mean I can't tell jokes tomorrow.  It doesn't mean I can't smile or give out an uncomfortably large number of hugs.  It just means that, when I'm done giving out all those hugs, I get to go home and hug only my pillow goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-825781643892698893?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/825781643892698893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=825781643892698893&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/825781643892698893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/825781643892698893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2010/03/loneliness.html' title='loneliness'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-7707671828248329317</id><published>2009-10-28T22:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T23:49:02.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Being a better person</title><content type='html'>I really enjoyed writing that last post, and I just watched Scrubs, which invariably puts me in an introspective mood, so I thought maybe I'd write another post.  This isn't to say that I'll write ever again, but just one more can't hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often in my life I make major pronouncements.  Such and such will never happen again.  After today, it's all going to be different.  I'm nervous, because I'm about to turn over a new leaf in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet for all that I say those things, I almost never mean them.  Not really.  Oh, I mean them at the time, but 12 hours later, or, at maximum, a week later, I turn back into my regular old self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's why I was so proud the first time I finished writing a book.  It took well over a year.  The first fifteen pages alone took over six months.  Yet somehow I managed to stick through everything else and finish the damned thing.  It sucked, and I'm now going back and changing it so much that, except for a few surface details, it really can't be called the same story.  Nevertheless, it was something I finished, and I was proud of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes wonder if it's really possible for any person to to really change much beyond their set point.  Recovering alcoholics still exhibit alcoholic behaviors, even if those behaviors are channeled into less self-destructive areas.  Those suffering from depression must forever deal with the possibility of falling back into their depressed states.  The meticulous have a hard time letting going, and the relaxed have a difficult time attending to detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I say it, it sounds corny, but it's simply impossible to escape the fact that I am who I am.  I don't attend well to detail.  I forget names easily and dates frequently.  I have a hard time falling through on almost anything and may never have experienced or enjoyed experiencing routine in my entire life.  I tend to stay up late for no reason and simply don't understand the tendency of people to arrive on early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these are traits I really wish I didn't have.  They have caused me no end of pain, making me difficult to work with, difficult to deal with, and and have probably put a large strain on quite a few of my friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And every time I come to this realization, I think, "Tomorrow.  Tomorrow I shall change.  Tomorrow I will be a better man.  Tomorrow I will finally become the man I wish I was." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, tomorrow rolls along, and I'm not that man.  I don't do yoga, or go jogging, or suddenly start studying for 8 hours at a go.  I don't niggle at a problem until I've solved it.  I don't wake up at 7AM and get straight to work after doing 20 pushups.  Usually, when tomorrow rolls around, I'm the same guy then as I was yesterday and the day before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to start things.  I love to get really excited about them and get others really excited about them.  I love to write.  I love to think and see beautiful things.    I love my words to sound poetic or funny in such a natural way that you don't even realize you've read something interesting after the fact.  I love imaginary rules that work, like the rule of three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could start something new every day, really get the ball rolling, hand it off to somebody, and then never think about it again, except in an "I wonder what ever happened to that?" kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, my natural way of being makes me pretty useless to practically every industry in the world.  And so, everyday, I get to wake up and struggle with myself to be a better person.  Total suck, there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-7707671828248329317?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/7707671828248329317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=7707671828248329317&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7707671828248329317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7707671828248329317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-better-person.html' title='Being a better person'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-108627303969365082</id><published>2009-10-24T00:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T13:03:52.872-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An attempt at reconcilliation</title><content type='html'>It's been about two years since I've posted to this blog, which, I believe, means it's probably safe to post here now.  I'm guessing not many readers left, so it'll just be me and my thoughts.  And maybe the occasional stranger who will have no idea who I am or why I'm writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how life often seems to come back around again to the same place.  I noticed, a few days ago, that my life at the moment seems quite a bit like the life I had back in April of 2006.  Except back then I was looking forward to a new life in law school.  These days... who knows what I'm looking forward to.  Re-taking the bar?  Becoming a lawyer?  Writing a book that most publishers will probably completely ignore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks to be stuck in the mire.  It sucks to be at that point in life when you realize that most people don't realize their dreams, and you look to be yet another of the faceless masses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of that is why I'm writing today.  I'm writing because this blog is called "how to get babes without even trying."  Before I continue, I want to make clear that the title exists as a statement of irony.  If you know me, you know I should be the last person you consult about getting a babe without trying.  I have yet to accomplish the feat myself (except, possibly, in one unexpected and, in retrospect, fairly magical moment), so my suggestions are all based on humor, pop culture, various myths, and a whole lot of clap-trap.  If you are willing to look back on my postings back in 2006, I can assure you that the train I was riding back then is the very same train I am riding today.  It would be funny, if it weren't so shitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blog was also intended as a joke.  Reading a blog on how to get babes IS trying, so writing a blog about how to do so without trying is delightfully ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, now that my full disclosure is out of the way, let's get to the brass facts.  (Is that the phrase?)  There was this girl.  In fact, there IS this girl.  She's very much still around, just not so much around in my life.  I had grown to quite like this girl, but, as is fairly common, she did not like me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I spent, quite literally, months trying to convince her otherwise, trying to get her to give me just a chance.  But it never worked.  It was the most open I've ever been with a woman over the course of any period.  Oh, in the past I've laid it all on the line, but that only takes a few minutes.  Usually, once it's all on the line, if she says no, I calmly walk away and then sit in a funk for a few days/weeks/months.  Not this time.  This time I didn't give up, and it didn't matter.  No was always the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this puts me, officially, out of ideas.  I have none left.  The only time I ever lucked out in my entire life I screwed up, and this girl is yet more proof that I am out of luck for, as far as I can tell, the rest of time.  I am going to grow up and be that crazy snake guy I wrote about many moons ago.  That guy is awesome, but I'd much rather know him than be him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of the whining.  That also isn't why I'm writing today.  I'm writing because I want to talk about this girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me take a second to tell you about her.  If you know me, you know that I'm willing to spend a lot of time mooning over a girl, but very little time actively pursuing one.  In fact, as I think back on it, the only other girl I've ever actively (key word being "actively") pursued was the now infamous Bosnian Babe, and with her there was a great deal of non-pursuit, so the young woman being discussed today is practically unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is she unique?  I'll tell you, but first let me point to all the ways she isn't unique at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, she's beautiful.  There's nothing unique about that.  She also happens to love her family, which, again, is not especially unique.  Back in the days of MySpace, practically every girl "loved (her) family."  She is a very compassionate girl, which is, once again, pretty mundane in the land of women.  She is a social worker, which is, without question, an important and pretty amazing job in that she helps the young in ways I couldn't even begin to dream of doing, but I am an unusual person, and I happen to know a surprisingly large number of people who are social workers.  So... once again, nothing especially new here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, btw.  When you roll all of these things into a bundle, she suddenly looks like the absolute cream of the crop.  If she were also rich, I could have saved myself the trouble and walked the other way months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, none of these things are a reason for me to be persistent.  In fact, almost all of them are reasons for me to be too afraid to say anything ever and certainly too afraid to say anything after the initial rejection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings us to the unique thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never once, not even today, felt like she was too good for me.  That might sound like a put down, but let me assure you, it absolutely isn't.  In my head, I realize that all the facts point to her being too good for me, but life is about more than a bunch of stupid facts.  When I talked to her, I heard her actually listening, and when she talked to me, I did not feel overwhelmed.  Our conversations were lively, interesting, and always dynamic.  There was rarely, if ever, an uncomfortable pause.  We danced together, and I never once felt awkward.  If I sent her a note, I never once worried that she wouldn't respond because she felt better than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roots of love lie in friendship, and I don't think I doubted our friendship from the first moment we started talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the magic.  That was the push that made go back over and over.  A couple times she even asked me why I was still being so persistent.  I never really had a good response, and I think that's because I didn't know.  I hadn't sat down to consider why I was acting so much unlike myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In retrospect, it doesn't really feel like magic.  "She's unique, because I'm not afraid of her"?  Sounds more moronic than magic.  Or, at least, it does until I take a second to remember that I am who I am.  I am an introvert hiding in an extrovert's body.  I am afraid of practically anyone and everyone.  If you are like me, and you find a woman who makes your heart beat a little faster, while at the same time making you feel absolutely comfortable in yourself, you have to go after her.  It's just how life must be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week ago, the light conversation I'd been trying to maintain broke off.  I don't remember who, either she or I, became serious and decided it was time to talk about our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she simply had no interest.  I guess, as I think on it, I can't blame her.  Even if she feels exactly the same way about our conversation and our ability to connect, none of that necessarily equates to anything approaching a relationship.  All that is is the workings of a current and future good friendship, and it takes much more than that to make a deeper relationship work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes qualities you respect.  It takes qualities you find attractive in a mate.  It takes an ocean to float a ship.  Just because I happen to find her beautiful in mind, body, and personality, it doesn't mean that she has to find me vaguely attractive in any of those categories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, looking far, far into the future, I can practically guarantee that I will have very pudgy children.  (This part is a joke.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so here we are today.  The very reason she would like to be friends is one half of the reason I don't think we can be.  Even if we tried it, I would find myself growing so comfortable and happy that I'd try to make it something she does not want, and then she would be forced to say no.  I don't want to have to put her in that position, and I REALLY don't want to be told no over and over some more.  (That's a moment of selfishness, right there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads to now.  Normally, I'd take this time to hope that we could still be friends, but I've pretty much ruled that out.  I guess I can hope that in the future we can be friends, perhaps when she isn't so great or when I'm in a committed relationship that will make the pleasantness seem less important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks, but I think the best I can say, for right now, is that I hope we go our own ways on pleasant terms.  I hope one or the other of us randomly connects back up, just to see how our lives are proceeding.  I hope we remain facebook friends, so we can do that the easy way.  I hope (also pretty selfishly) that she is at least somewhat as sad about all of this as I am.  And, as much as it would suck for me, I hope that she remains as wonderful in the future as I think she is right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-108627303969365082?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/108627303969365082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=108627303969365082&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/108627303969365082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/108627303969365082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2009/10/attempt-at-reconcilliation.html' title='An attempt at reconcilliation'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8102279489463529634</id><published>2007-04-09T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T22:50:32.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Give the Princess a New Name!</title><content type='html'>Hey everybody, as you may have noticed, I haven't been doing a lot of posting to this blog anymore.  This is partially because I feel constantly stressed and busy, but I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I just don't think it's who I am anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a quest for everyone.  I'm looking for good blog names that might describe my new chapter in life.  I want a name that could be funny, but definitely needs to be quirky.  I need a name that can be just as ironic as this one, but is maybe pointed in a different direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I've gotten tired of talking about the many ways you can get babes, because I just haven't been doing a lot of focusing on the topic recently.  Also, because I think it may be time to finish making those jokes.  I think everyone has just moved on a little bit.  The majority of my friends are married now.  I don't want to be the one left holding the ball, laughing about sex and the single guy.  I'm willing to be the one holding the ball AS the single guy, but that's a different topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't really know what I want to talk about.  Odds are, most of it wouldn't really change.  I'm sure there would be days in which I'll be really tired and depressed and write long-winded soliloquies about how I'll always be alone and how Octobers will always make me sad.  And I'll probably also write at least some jokes about sex and my apparent missing out on all the stuff everyone else seems to be doing.  Plus, I'm sure I'll want to spend some time on the craziness that is law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, with all of that considered, what should my focus be?  What is the one shining topic that all other topics can cling to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my question for everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8102279489463529634?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8102279489463529634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8102279489463529634&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8102279489463529634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8102279489463529634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/04/give-princess-new-name.html' title='Give the Princess a New Name!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8683886544330505840</id><published>2007-04-08T01:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T02:05:54.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>close the door and pray to your father</title><content type='html'>Alright, I've been looking for this for a little while and have now found it.  I'm now copying it here so that I don't forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 6:1-8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the&lt;br /&gt;truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your&lt;br /&gt;room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father,&lt;br /&gt;who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not&lt;br /&gt;keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their&lt;br /&gt;many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I totally appreciate this sentiment.  There are few people I find more irritating than those who do everything in their power to one up another with "holy"ness.  Being proud of being holy is a great way to make me want to punch a person in the face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8683886544330505840?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8683886544330505840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8683886544330505840&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8683886544330505840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8683886544330505840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/04/close-door-and-pray-to-your-father.html' title='close the door and pray to your father'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-1242442859715515842</id><published>2007-03-01T22:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T22:30:11.180-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cedar Rapids and (?) Lincoln Park</title><content type='html'>Hello, everyone.  I haven't got much to say tonight.  I'm just writing to give an adoring shout-out to my fans in Cedar Rapids, IA and Lincoln Park, MI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know, Cedar Rapids is the home of many noteworthy star actors, including Elijah Wood and Ron Livingston.  Lincoln Park is the home of... the name of a band that was, at one time, cool?  I'm not really sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, kudos to you, my star recent readers.  Also, I will be quiting this post forever, starting now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah!!  Just kidding!  I know all 3 of you would miss me forever if I left now, especially all you people who only randomly find my site after searching google for "Cliff Yanblonski" hating me.  I love you, likely, horrible people as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-1242442859715515842?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/1242442859715515842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=1242442859715515842&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1242442859715515842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1242442859715515842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/03/cedar-rapids-and-lincoln-park.html' title='Cedar Rapids and (?) Lincoln Park'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-2820803388471811808</id><published>2007-02-26T15:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T16:05:27.327-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Christian Privity, Sucka'</title><content type='html'>So I've been spending several hours trying to come up with a joke about horizontal and vertical privity that does not include a reference to the Aristocrats or outhouses, but it's pretty difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, let's follow-up my earlier rant about "Christian" Christians in connection with the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horizontal privity means the relationship between two people on essentially an equal footing.  So if two NCAA basketball teams are playing against one another, they are agreeing that at the end of the game one of them will be the winner and the other the loser.  That is a horizontal relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vertical privity would exist between each of the teams and the NCAA commission which administers the rules and is in charge of both teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now consider that viral message I was talking about.  The Christian (Gabe) was sending to the Friend (Steve) a message about how awesome Sweet Jesus Jones is.  Gabe thinks he's figured out what Jesus Jones wants and thinks is awesome.  He's pretty sure he's got his vertical privity relationship figured out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, Gabe tries to tell Steve about STEVE'S vertical relationship w/ Jesus Jones.  However, Gabe does not have privity to that relationship.  All that Gabe has in relation to Steve is horizontal privity with him.  He cannot know exactly how Steve's vertical privity w/ Jesus Jones works, because he is a jive turkey and human (and also a honkey).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Steve is being told the wrong thing.  He is being told that if he rejects Gabe's horizontal privity, he will be rejecting his own, totally unrelated, vertical privity w/ Sweet Jesus Jones, which is just a bunch of sucker trash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my recommendation for all you folk out there is to tell the Gabes of the world to suck it.  Then, you know he ain't gonna lay no more big rap up on you, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sides, jive ass dude don't got no brains anyhow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-2820803388471811808?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/2820803388471811808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=2820803388471811808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2820803388471811808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2820803388471811808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/christian-privity-sucka.html' title='Christian Privity, Sucka&apos;'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-4722356602647672528</id><published>2007-02-26T12:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T13:35:28.442-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>Jesus Jones v. Lucifer Williams.  This Sunday, sunday, sunday!</title><content type='html'>Hey everybody!  It's time for yet another edition of Dumb Quotes from the internet.  I've considered labeling this "DQFTI," but worried that people would think it was some kind of ice cream reference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we have the following Jesus fwd type quote.  I really hate these, because I find very little more repulsive than forcing people to spam others by appealing to their religious nature.  Also, they tend to be remarkably ill informed.  Let's get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Greatest Man in History Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master.&lt;br /&gt;Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.&lt;br /&gt;Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.&lt;br /&gt;He had no army, yet kings feared Him.&lt;br /&gt;He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.&lt;br /&gt;He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.&lt;br /&gt;He was buried in a tomb,yet He lives today.&lt;br /&gt;I feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us!&lt;br /&gt;If you believe in God and in Jesus Christ His Son . Write this on 10 peoples walls or just ignore but remember that Jesus said ... "If you deny me before man, I will deny youbefore my Father in Heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I'm not sure how much I'd agree w/ "greatest man in history," but I'm sure that's just a matter of opinion.  As such, I'll leave it alone.  The problem I have is that this title was capitalized.  What, grammatically speaking, does this mean?  Are Jesus's initials GMITJ?  Is that his official title?  Greatest Man in History Jesus?  Sounds vaguely like a basketball player.  Or a WWE wrestler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greatest Man in History Jesus Jones!  Coming to you live, from Renne Arena!!!!  Watch him take down the Great Impaler, Red, Red, Lucifer Williams!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, though, I personally think Jesus would be irritated in being called the greatest man in history (especially in being given such a title), because that was exactly the opposite of his point.  He was a normal man with normal failings.  He had a great burden to bear and carried a message of hope, but he remained an ordinary man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"he had no servants" also has to be wrong.  Hell, someone brought his group wine at the last supper.  That person was.... A SERVANT.  Beyond all that, "master" and "teacher" were pretty interchangeable at the time.  I'd be hesitant about reading too much into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He had no degree."  I'm almost entirely certain this is wrong too.  Now, I don't imagine that Jesus went to University, partially because none were exactly handy, but the fact of the matter is that he'd risen pretty high in the ranks of the Jewish priest-type hierarchy.  I'd guess he was a fairly well versed individual for the time and could probably hold his own among modern day theologians.  Further, as I understand it, people in his position at the time were often called teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm granting the "he had no medicines, yet they called him Healer," because, as long as we're going with the same source (i.e. the bible), a pretty big tenant of his being the Messiah was his being able to bring people back from the dead (also, leprosy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He had no armies, yet kings feared him" shouldn't count, in my opinion.  Herrod didn't like threats to his power.  It isn't like Herrod feared Jesus specifically.  He just didn't like the idea of a Messiah trying to change the current regime.  Plus, Jesus was a baby.  Anyone who is scared of a baby is dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He conquered the world."  Eh.  Last I checked, there were a remarkable number of people and religions that do not follow Christ.  Like Islam.  The Hindus.  Taoists.  Shintoists.  Native American spirit people.  Oh, and Jews.  I'm pretty sure that accounts for at least 2 of the 5 billion people in the world and one HECK of the land mass.  Also, I think I'd be way more willing to give Rome, Constantine, and Paul more credit than Jesus, in terms of simple number of converts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He committed no crime."  Really?  Rome found him guilty of a crime.  So did the Jewish leaders of the area.  I'm pretty sure that we, as Americans who believe in the rule of law, ought to consider that enough.  Sure, sometimes its possible for people who are innocent of crimes to be found guilty and killed (like what happens in America), but we should try to be consistent on this front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yet he lives today."  Uh.  I guess this is accurate, as long as you are REALLY willing to stretch the meaning of the word "lives."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Leader" should not be capitalized.  I won't even make a joke out of it.  It's just stupidity based upon the mistaken belief that over-capitalization makes you sound more holy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last line is REALLY poor grammar, so let's fix that, before proceeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you believe in God and in Jesus Christ, His Son, write this on 10 people's walls or just ignore it, but remember that Jesus said, "If you deny me before man, I will deny you before my Father in Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, now we've fixed the grammar problems.  Time to fix the idiot problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is really being denied in this post?  Is a person denying Jesus if he elects not to spam at least ten people with incorrect and poorly understood drivel?  I think not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I think.  I think a lot of people have a really high opinion of themselves and their own ability to understand God.  Some might call it pride.  I call it stupidity.  So they write their uninformed messages like the one above and send them out to everyone they know, because they want to show everybody how remarkably holy they are compared to all of their heath friends (pride... pride... pride... pride).  The friends, then, have to make a really difficult decision. Do I forward this idiocy to keep my soul clean, or do I reject God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, the decision really isn't anywhere near that hard.  The real decision is whether to reject a person's interpretation of God that was faulty from the moment this person decided that God wanted his message sent by viral email.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-4722356602647672528?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/4722356602647672528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=4722356602647672528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4722356602647672528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4722356602647672528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/jesus-jones-v-lucifer-jones-this-sunday.html' title='Jesus Jones v. Lucifer Williams.  This Sunday, sunday, sunday!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8211377053864458610</id><published>2007-02-19T11:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T12:07:16.326-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Statute of Hanna Barbara Limitations</title><content type='html'>Our very pretty professor seems to be sick; I've handed in a note so that I don't have to talk today; and contracts 2 was cancelled for no obvious reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a GREAT monday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in Civ Pro we are discussing how rule 15c of the federal rules of civil procedure allows people to evade the statute of limitations and amend complaints to add new parties and new complaints as long as they relate back to the original complaint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider this in Hanna Barbara terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suppose the Flintstones were suing Yogi Bear in Birdman Court for pickinik basket stealing (theft).  Then, we find out (thanks to the combined teamwork of scooby-doo and johnny bravo) that Kaboobie from Shazzan was the actual thief.  Blossom of the PowerPuff girls nabs Kaboobie on trumped up charges, and, while Kaboobie is in jail, the Flintstones amend their mistaken complaint transfering the complaint against Yogi to a complaint against Kaboobie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, two weeks before amending their complaint, the statute of limitations had passed.  Rule 15c would require that Kaboobie should have known that the Flintstones would have filed the complaint against him, but they happened to make a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point Secret Squirrel, Ubble Ubble, and Baba Looey all got together, did a bunch of meth and crack, and killed everyone involved.  It turns out that the Jetsons were distant descendants of the Flintstones (which shouldn't surprise anyone), so they ceased to exist.  Hadji from Johnny Quest became outraged at the horror that had been perpetuated, both to the timeline and to his good buddy Kaboobie, and so he began a quest of his own to track down and murder Secret Squirrel, Ubble Ubble, and Baba Looey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this time that Huckleberry Hound arrived on the scene, told everyone to calm down, brought the dead people back to life, and then convinced everyone to "go gay." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end everyone was happy, including Yogi, who actually HAD stolen the pickinik basket, and not including the Jetsons, who were still doomed to never being born thanks to Huckleberry Hounds efforts and the fact that George could never catch a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was I talking about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8211377053864458610?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8211377053864458610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8211377053864458610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8211377053864458610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8211377053864458610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/statute-of-hanna-barbara-limitations.html' title='Statute of Hanna Barbara Limitations'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3789285126292609434</id><published>2007-02-15T13:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T13:19:40.655-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Law tests are not like life</title><content type='html'>It turns out, the kind of personality that excellently answers a law exam is not the kind of personality that I like.  Allow me to set the scene.  There we are, just about ready to go, when...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpool friend #1:  Hey, random person (we'll call this random person Gretel), what did you think of Dewey, Cheetum, and Howe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretel:  Well... (insert 25 minute retrospective of the firm, kansas city firms, kansas city, going to school at an ivy league school, kc high schools, kc expectations that everyone knows what - specific to KC - juco and pembroke hill mean, the joys of living in denver, gretel's life from birth to that moment, and various classes held in common with Carpool Friend #1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpool friend #1:  Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretel:  Exactly... (insert another 12 minute diatribe on the difference between big firms, little firms, and firms of a size somewhere in between)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpool friend #1:  Uh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretel:  And then! (Insert a continuation of this diatribe, until...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpool friend #2:  I HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.  So a rule, for all you HTGBWET fans:  If a person asks you what you thought of something, you say, "It was pretty cool" or "It really sucked."  If your response takes more than 18 words, you should probably go take a nap somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3789285126292609434?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3789285126292609434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3789285126292609434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3789285126292609434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3789285126292609434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/law-tests-are-not-like-life.html' title='Law tests are not like life'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8539417533763260298</id><published>2007-02-14T14:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T15:17:22.027-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Physical Revocation</title><content type='html'>Wills may be revoked by physically destroying them using such methods as burning and tearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other methods of Will revocation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;incinerating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vibrating to fragments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;burying in the walls of Jericho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;flushing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shaming it to an early death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;laying a beat down on it in an exciting game of basketball or chess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leaving it in your jeans while you wash them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leaving it in your jeans while you take a crazy person shower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;assumpsit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;laying a really solid stink on it, so no one will want to approach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;living in a lawless society&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;offending the will of Poseidon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, finally, saying, "Talk to the hand."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8539417533763260298?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8539417533763260298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8539417533763260298&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8539417533763260298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8539417533763260298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/physical-revocation.html' title='Physical Revocation'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-2881655232546241622</id><published>2007-02-13T15:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T09:50:33.629-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>a list</title><content type='html'>As a law student, it is, of course, important to recognize that the rest of my life will consist of writing hundreds and hundreds of stilted, poorly worded, boring statements of veiled anger and rage.  That said, I think it's time to consider the beginning of this trend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This semester I will be writing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a demand letter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two memos asking for or defending against summary judgment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two defenses for stupid parking tickets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a ten page paper on why I'm good at dissecting  legal discussion for the sake of getting to say that I am a member of a law journal, because that is JJUUSSSSTTTT GREATTTTTT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120 blog posts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a second edition of my story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a defense of sex trips in asia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a revocation of my previous statement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bath salts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;butter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a quart of milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ascension into heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a song about singing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quantum physics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KU biases&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or get your degree&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-2881655232546241622?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/2881655232546241622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=2881655232546241622&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2881655232546241622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2881655232546241622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/list.html' title='a list'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-1907018623632779800</id><published>2007-02-12T15:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T16:10:41.265-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Sexual Easements</title><content type='html'>In my continuing quest to develop a more legally minded blog, I present the following idea:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's say there's a nasty break-up in some sort of developing world in which  women (or for you left-wingers out there, men) are considered property.  Now let's say the dominant individual sells the servient individual, is it possible for the dominant individual to maintain a sexual easement and then SELL or testate that sexual easement to an uninvolved individual?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two methods in which I see this as being, at least conceptually, possible.  The two rules of law we need to consider are Easement by Necessity and Easement by Implication.  Let's consider each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Necessity:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Original unity of ownership:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we can all agree that at one time, in owning the servient individual, the dominant individual owned the sexual rights in addition to all other rights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Necessity NOW, not a mere convenience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here things get a little tricky.  Unless we're talking some kind of "deepthroat" rule, or perhaps a lack of fertile men or women, it seems pretty unlikely that a necessity can be proven.  And even in the second case, SOME other fertile individual of the opposite sex would destroy the necessity possibility.  Othen v. Rosier. &lt;span id="headerTitleTruncate2" class="InformationalSmall"&gt;226 S.W.2d 622 (Tex. 1950).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Necessity existed at the time of severence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure this one is also tricky and depends on how poor the dominant individual was.  If the dominant individual had only one husband or wife, then I don't see a problem claiming necessity at time of severance.  That said, it's possible that the dominant individual still had other viable sexual options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Implication&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Unity of ownership&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Apparent and continuous quasi-easement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the dominant individual maintained an open sexual relationship with the servient individual (maybe some threeway action?  Sweet), and that open relationship was somehow sold to the next dominant individual, then this category may well be satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.a.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's worth pointing out that the new owner of the servient individual would have to KNOW about the open relationship, thereby eliminating the bona fide purchaser issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Necessity at the time of severance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go.  My conclusion, based upon our limited set of facts, is that an Easement by Implication would be the new Dominant individual's best hope, as an Easement of sexual Necessity would be very difficult to prove, unless we lived in some sort of post-apocalyptic world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note:  It is worth pointing out that easements of this time are only applicable to real property (i.e. land).  Take that as you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-1907018623632779800?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/1907018623632779800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=1907018623632779800&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1907018623632779800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1907018623632779800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/sexual-easements.html' title='Sexual Easements'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3797954951371152444</id><published>2007-02-12T10:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T16:09:57.507-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='law thoughts'/><title type='text'>Common law application of the contracts II syllabus</title><content type='html'>A common law application of the Contracts II Syllabus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sec 1-103:  Unless displaced by the particular provisions of this Syllabus, the principles of class and education, including the rules of conduct and the honor code relative to capacity to learn, professor and student, class participation, lying, cheating, not paying attention, checking email, gunning, internet shopping, pre-emptive attacks, or other class or nonclass action shall supplement this provision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Doe v Ware.  9 K.U.L.S. 37, 38 (Feb. 2007).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Um.  Right.  I'll just answer my own question.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From these two rules we can learn that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While syllabus Sec. 2-104 specifically states that participation is a part of our grade, if we clearly have no idea what's going on, the common law rule of letting the professor do our work for us takes effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you common law.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3797954951371152444?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3797954951371152444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3797954951371152444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3797954951371152444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3797954951371152444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/common-law-application-of-contracts-ii.html' title='Common law application of the contracts II syllabus'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-6596413088012083263</id><published>2007-02-06T00:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T01:11:55.515-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Connections, Broadening, and Growth</title><content type='html'>So I just finished reading a blog post by someone else that was really boring and sucked in virtually every way that a few paragraphs of rambling prose can suck.  It was so awful, that I figured ANYTHING I wrote down would be better and more awesome than the drivel that I have just been forced (by myself) to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, here we are!  Welcome to some drivel by NJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've reached that point in my new experience where I am starting to make connections.  Let me clarify.  When I start something completely new, I tend to suck at it.  At one time, I thought this was because I was lazy (e.g. freshman year of high school, freshman year of college, my first year at Montana State), but the fact that my worst grades always seem to coincide with my first years in an entirely new environment lead me to believe that maybe something else is happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This thought occurred to me a few weeks ago.  I figured I'd mention the oddity to my mom.  The response I got was, at least a little, unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has the same problems!  And my mom may be a lot of things, but lazy sho' ain't one of'm.  Ring another one up for nature, please (as opposed to nurture, that is)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let me return to what I was saying.  I've reached that point in my experience in which I am starting to make connections.  In class, the professor might state some facts and my brain tries to use previous learnings to guess at the applicable law.  I instantly turn to contracts in property class.  I contemplate professional responsibility in business associations.  All those things I had a tenuous grasp on only a few months before (and, judging by my grades in December, only a few weeks before) are suddenly starting to spring to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an exciting feeling.  So I have a question for everyone.  Does anyone else recognize this experience?  In your own lives, have you had a transitory period in which you went from a know-nothing to a know-it-all?  Have you ever lamented that you only start to really figure out the fundamentals of a topic after you've conceptualized the big picture, yet you cannot conceptualize the big picture until you've figured out the fundamentals?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just a thought of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one more thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE IPHONE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding.  Anyone else see one of those Apple press conferences?  They just aren't as impressive as I feel led to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, though, it's time for another HTGBWET, specifically number 287.  Today's topic:  Try not to cut corners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous statement actually makes sense, if you give it a chance.  Think of it like being a natural.  Some people just sort of know.  Some people just know that men and women are really pretty much the same.  Some people know that everyone is nervous and uncomfortable.  Some people know that irritable expressions on the faces of the opposite sex usually indicate that they are irritated with THEMSELVES.  Some people know that everyone... EVERYONE... sees him or herself as the actor, rather than the character in the play that is life and love, and we all wish we knew the lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people, without ever even thinking about it, know that these things are true.  Guys call them assholes.  Women call them bitches.  Really, it's all the same.  These are the people who are born knowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Thomas Aquinas said that a person's faith lacks depth, until it has been through trials and tribulations, doubt and uncertainty.  (Or maybe it was Buck Minster Fuller.  I forget now.)  The point is that these people will never have a problem getting a date, and that's really too bad, because these people will never need to grow and will always lack the depth that goes beyond the skin and beyond the suave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, some of us do need to grow, and we never do make it beyond the skin, but at least we're trying.  At least an awareness exists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in that awareness, in that growth, in that gradual, broadening understanding do we become whole people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-6596413088012083263?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/6596413088012083263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=6596413088012083263&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6596413088012083263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6596413088012083263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/connections-broadening-and-growth.html' title='Connections, Broadening, and Growth'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-5658815657014548466</id><published>2007-02-01T13:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T15:07:34.143-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>The Relaxed Master of Relaxation</title><content type='html'>Today I'm feeling down.  I went to the law review info session and discovered that my already only OK GPA would be counted as even lower than it currently is for Law Review purposes, because my best grades were in upper level non-core classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I only got like 3 and 1/2 hours of sleep last night, so I'm really coping with an awful lot of suck right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As such, I feel like it's about time for a new HTGBWET!  Today's lesson (#845):  Looking Relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.behavioradvisor.com/relaxed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.behavioradvisor.com/relaxed.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a day goes by that another person doesn't say, "Wow, NJ, you certainly look relaxed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this I usually reply in some non-committal way.  Being a relaxed fellow, I don't feel the need to get all up on myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, even I lack the true relaxed skills of a relaxed master of relaxation.  That being said, for all my lack of skill, I have rested upon the slight hill; I have tamed the mighty tired, old dog; I have done what few men dream of doing, because they aren't that interested.  And so I figured I'd relay my knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick to being truly relaxed - and using that relaxation in your dealings with the opposite sex - is to convince members of the opposite sex that you COULD be on the ball and, in fact, even are on the ball when it's really necessary, but for now you are content to just play it cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means, of course, that you must be a physical representation of the impossible.  You have to look both incredibly involved and incredibly bored AT THE SAME TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I do this, you ask?  Consider Matthew Mcconehey..... Um, or however you pronounce his name.  McConnehy? Hang on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.  It's McConaughey.  Seriously, someone needs to tell that guy that he's never gonna make it with a name like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  He is a guy who is extremely physically fit.  He is a guy who LOOKS like he must work out all the time and be constantly on the move, yet his eyes are always half-lidded and he talks... real... slow.  Lahk... this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, he's managed the impossible.  He's a guy who looks more relaxed than anyone I've ever seen (save one), yet, at the same time, he looks ready to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Specially relaxed status goes to Owen Wilson.  Even more than McConaughey, he is painfully relaxed; he just happens to look less ready to go.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My point is this:  there is something about the ridiculous contrast of these two things that attracts members of the opposite sex in prodigious quantities.  My theory is that it has something to do w/ evolution.  Back when we were all the retarded &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;offspring of five monkeys having butt-sex with a fish-squirrel, it was handy to be relaxed and yet totally awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It may also have to do with ninjas, now that I think about it, but I could be wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was I saying?  Oh yeah, so here is your new assignment, should you choose to accept it.  Spend the next year or so getting totally in shape.  Then work your ass off to get an awesome job and millions of dollars.  Finally, make your eyes look heavy, always put your feet up when you sit down, and talk slow.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You'll be well on your way to getting at least one or two total babes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-5658815657014548466?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/5658815657014548466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=5658815657014548466&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5658815657014548466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5658815657014548466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/02/relaxed-master-of-relaxation.html' title='The Relaxed Master of Relaxation'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3070491028583517491</id><published>2007-01-28T02:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T02:12:41.635-06:00</updated><title type='text'>babies</title><content type='html'>Alright, so I'm sitting at home, fat, dumb, and happy, when a client comes in....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding.  I am sitting at home, but I'm mostly just bored.  I'm just writing to congratulate my fanfic friend on the baby and to offer preparatory congratulations to my uber-catholic friend.  Good luck, both of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3070491028583517491?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3070491028583517491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3070491028583517491&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3070491028583517491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3070491028583517491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/babies.html' title='babies'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3404012460281973958</id><published>2007-01-23T10:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T10:11:27.647-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>for all intents and purposes</title><content type='html'>Alright, time for Grammar Times with Uncle N.J.  Today's lesson:  "intensive purposes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intensive purposes are purposes which  are totally freaking intense.  At virtually no time should the words "for all" precede "intensive purposes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, "intents and purposes" are two words that mean basically the same thing and which imply, when used in conjunction with "for all," that the succeeding independent clause covers most categories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, "for all intents and purposes, the man was dead," means that the man was essentially dead or would soon be dead as a practical matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For all intensive purposes, the man was dead," would mean the man was dead for some sort of undefined intense purpose.  In other words, except under VERY specific conditions, this phrase doesn't make any sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please remember, for all intents and purposes, you will almost always use the phrase "for all intents and purposes" before "for all intensive purposes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3404012460281973958?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3404012460281973958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3404012460281973958&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3404012460281973958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3404012460281973958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/for-all-intents-and-purposes.html' title='for all intents and purposes'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-136516947251278220</id><published>2007-01-19T16:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T17:03:22.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cliff Yablonski hates me?</title><content type='html'>So I've recently been informed that a picture of me was on this site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.somethingawful.com/cliff/ihateyou/page-267.htm"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.somethingawful.com/cliff/ihateyou/page-267.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, this means that some guy named Cliff hates me, and that he thinks I work at a place called  the Burger Barn.  Also, I am both fat and teenaged.  Now, I acknowledge the fat part, but teenaged?  Seriously, give me some credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, that is an AWESOME pic of Rob's old room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only question I have is, how did this Cliff fellow get this pic of me?  Also, what is in my hand?  I didn't actually drink in those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy stuff.  Anyway, enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-136516947251278220?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/136516947251278220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=136516947251278220&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/136516947251278220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/136516947251278220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/cliff-yablonski-hates-me.html' title='Cliff Yablonski hates me?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-1486423892965595120</id><published>2007-01-13T22:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T22:40:07.865-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Science'/><title type='text'>the Iphone and some missed anniversaries</title><content type='html'>Just thought I'd mention that I'd missed pointing out &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/picking-at-old-wounds.html"&gt;my 200th post&lt;/a&gt; and my &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/12/done.html"&gt;one year blog anniversary&lt;/a&gt;.  Sad.  Anyway, back to blogging...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I was reading a thread on how much people want to either kill Steve Jobs or have his Apple babies.  More specifically they were discussing this new Iphone dealy.  Here is my take:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got neither the love, nor the hatred for Apple and the Iphone that everyone else seems to, but I have to give them credit for one MAJOR contribution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They told Cingular to SUCK IT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, folks, the look, the feel, none of it matters compared to the fact that Cingular had to completely re-do its infrastructure so that people could check their voicemail without going through THE LIST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a verizon subscriber for almost four years now.  In that time, verizon has found 8000 ways to nickle and dime me.  I own the vx8100 by LG.  It has about 20 times more capabilities than I am actually able to use, because Verizon strong-armed LG.  Love or hate Apple, they are the first hardware manufacturer I know of to force the network provider to innovate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a year and a half, the Iphone will be old news, simply because Jobs loves cyclical innovation (Ipod v1, v2, v3, mini, nano, photo, video, etc.).  But the fact that Cingular changed?  That lasts forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-1486423892965595120?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/1486423892965595120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=1486423892965595120&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1486423892965595120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1486423892965595120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/iphone-and-some-missed-anniversaries.html' title='the Iphone and some missed anniversaries'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-1800609193368339059</id><published>2007-01-08T00:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T00:33:35.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Doldrums  and more Mirror Emotion stuff</title><content type='html'>Alright.  I've just about reached that point.  I've done everything I can usefully do.  I've gotten my grades back.  School doesn't start for a while.  I'm bored out of my mind.  I've hit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DOLDRUMS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is indeed a terrible time when a man has hit his doldrums.  The crazy thing is that I don't exactly hate being bored and listless.  It's that I remember how awesome it was NOT to be bored and wish I were back in that state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a plan.  I need something to do.  I need to reinvigorate myself.  Tomorrow, it's time to become mr. fix-it.  Also, I need to clean my room.  Also, I should do my laundry.  While I am at my most happy being a doer of deeds, I can probably keep myself occupied as a performer of tasks.  Anyone want to take any bets?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addendum:  Oh, in other news.  G'luck, Brad, w/ your neighber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay and Kristi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of you make interesting points; however, I choose to respectfully argue back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, Kay, seriously, men start wars, do the asking out of the women, fight every chance they get, make the most ridiculous of preachers, etc. etc.  I'm reasonably certain that men and women are AT LEAST equally emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, Kristi, two different points.  First, the maturity level thing is entirely possible.  It even helps my belief that being drunk increases the likelihood of emotion reflecting.  Second, I don't think it's a question of knowing in your head that a person "likes" you.  I think it's a lot more specific and subtle than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's a sort of gut reaction.  And it's a gut reaction in the moment.  It would not work, for example, if you had two weeks to think about it, and it wouldn't work if you found out while the guy (in these cases) was in another state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, this is the hypothetical "you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are making a real, honest-to-god decision, then we aren't talking about the same thing.  Instead, think of it like a stop sign while driving.  After your first week of driving, you don't think to yourself, "Oh, goodness gracious!  A stop sign!  Should I stop? Why yes!  I believe I shall!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.  You see a stop sign and you stop.  In the same way, my theory goes, a person exhibits an emotion at you, and you exhibit the emotion back.  Heck, it doesn't even have to be more than a couple seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick after that moment is unrelated, at least in a psychological way.  After that first moment, when you inexplicably find yourself making out with him, your brain goes into overdrive, thinking "What the hell am I doing?  I must have had some reason for making out w/ this guy!  I wouldn't ordinarily do this!  I guess I like (?) this guy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's called cognitive dissonance, btw.  Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm not concerned with cognitive dissonance.  I'm more interested in that 5 to 30 second window that starts the ball rolling.  That brief period of time in which my theoretical emotional mirror is in full swing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-1800609193368339059?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/1800609193368339059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=1800609193368339059&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1800609193368339059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1800609193368339059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/doldrums-and-more-mirror-emotion-stuff.html' title='The Doldrums  and more Mirror Emotion stuff'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-6455837060785964358</id><published>2007-01-06T02:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T02:48:41.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'>brief in-joke</title><content type='html'>Hey, everyone, just thought it'd be fun to mention that it's after two.  What mischief are YOU causing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-6455837060785964358?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/6455837060785964358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=6455837060785964358&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6455837060785964358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6455837060785964358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2007/01/brief-in-joke.html' title='brief in-joke'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-4960936737640168654</id><published>2006-12-30T03:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T03:20:05.301-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Mirror Emotions</title><content type='html'>I think it's about time to get blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever noticed that many times people don't have a valid reason to be exhibiting an emotion?  Instead, the emotion appears in response to the emotion of another.  For example, a fight breaks out.  One person starts out the fight genuinely angry.  Another person joins into the fight, not because he or she is mad, but because they are responding to the anger of the first person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a theory that an awful lot of relationships begin this way.  Certainly, it is necessary to dance the dance as discussed in all of my various HTGBWETs, but I think that may be only half of the equation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other half has almost universally to do w/ guys.  Perhaps it is a function of our culture, perhaps not, but guys are supposed to be the initiators of relationships.  They are supposed to step up each level.  They are the ones  who are supposed to break the ice, ask for a date, move in for the kiss, suggest sex, make the proposal, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means, assuming my theory holds, that the emotions of women are not always formed from rational decision making, but from a simple response to the emotions of men (which themselves are not rational, but probably based upon various glands that demand more and more sex).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this isn't the case in every relationship, but I'll be it isn't uncommon.  I think the idea first struck me when I overheard a girl talking about the experience of either a first kiss or a marriage proposal (I can't remember which).  Basically, she said that, until the moment, she didn't know what she would have done, but she was probably leaning towards saying no.  But then, in that moment, all unexpectedly, she decides yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my theory is true, I hate to think what that means for virtually all romantic relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another piece of evidence that provides at least marginal support for my theory.  When are we most likely to respond to the emotions of others?   Ans:  When we are drunk and/or tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELLO BARS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET #75:  Do what you need to do.  Dance the dance if it is at all necessary.  Get a member of the opposite sex interested, then get them tipsy.  THEN lean in for a kiss.  I think you won't find a negative response.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-4960936737640168654?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/4960936737640168654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=4960936737640168654&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4960936737640168654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4960936737640168654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/12/mirror-emotions.html' title='Mirror Emotions'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-316476435604306619</id><published>2006-12-19T12:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T12:54:05.071-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Politeness</title><content type='html'>Alright, so one thing that really bothers me is a lack of politeness.  When I say something, I generally expect some kind of response.  When someone says something to me, I'll at least try to acknowledge it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, more than anything else, this is the nature of the average Kansan.  We might be hicks and cowboys and farmers and accountants and engineers and artists and lawyers and doctors and business executives and hippies, and we might all live in our little boxes, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the one thing that draws us all together is our insistence upon being polite to one another.  We may hate each other, but God help the impolite man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's my thought of the day.  I may have more now that finals are over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-316476435604306619?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/316476435604306619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=316476435604306619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/316476435604306619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/316476435604306619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/12/politeness.html' title='Politeness'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-7183857631074598472</id><published>2006-12-15T16:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T16:11:38.075-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Done!</title><content type='html'>Done done done done done done done done done done done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-7183857631074598472?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/7183857631074598472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=7183857631074598472&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7183857631074598472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7183857631074598472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/12/done.html' title='Done!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8532338653522237718</id><published>2006-11-17T00:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T00:35:50.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The dreams of man</title><content type='html'>So I have a bit of a confession to make.  I don't know if you guys knew this, but I'm a little bit introverted.  I know, you raise your eyebrows in shock, but it's true.  My natural state is sitting in a quiet room w/ a max of 3 other people, chatting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to start by saying that.  Now on to my post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would guess most men have fantasies.  They dream of being the heroic quarterback or running back.  They imagine themselves taking the winning three pointer which seals the victory over Duke in the national championship game.  They see themselves winning a million dollars and spending the rest of their lives roping cattle or sailing the Caribbean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a fantasy like that.  In my head I like to think of myself as a cowboy or a gunslinger of the modern age.  I don't lead cows across the plains or ride a horse, though.  I'm a different kind of cowboy.  I work a well-paying job, maybe at a law firm, where I am the king of my domain.  I take opposing law firms to school.  I win most of my cases.  I am self-sufficient and well respected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it doesn't end there.  That's not even the important part of this dream.  The important part is what happens afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this fantasy life, I finish my day of work, earn my ridiculous pay check, and then head straight to MY bar.  The local watering hole.  That place you've read about in cheap novels.  No one knows me there, save, perhaps, a waitress and a bartender or two, and I'm happy with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Also, the bar is smoke free.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sit at the bar in this dive and take in my surroudings.  I don't have any real friends at this bar, but that's ok, because I don't need any real friends at this bar.  That isn't what this thing is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit; I listen to and enjoy my surroundings; and I am totally content to be just me.  I don't need to strike up a conversation.  I don't need to look to those around me for solace.  I am who I am.  Bugger the rest of the world.  If it needs me, it can damn well come to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it.  That's my dream.  I sit, silent and alone, like a prominent point of rock, holding fast as the sea attacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are probably better dreams out there.  Who doesn't want to score the winning touchdown?  What person would turn down saving the world from cancer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of things in life that I would like to do.  Someday I'd like children.  Getting married one day would not be out of the question.  At some point, I'd like to have a lazy dog who spends most of his time giving me looks from the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But those are all real life goals.  None of those are the vision that I have, meekly begging to be let out of the back of my head.  I want to be a cowboy.  I want to be a gunslinger.  I want to be a rock at the bar, content in myself and my surroundings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8532338653522237718?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8532338653522237718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8532338653522237718&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8532338653522237718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8532338653522237718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/dreams-of-man.html' title='The dreams of man'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-810214028209311582</id><published>2006-11-15T12:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T12:16:40.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>At KU, we're close</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.cnn.net/si/si_online/covers/images/2006/1121_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i.cnn.net/si/si_online/covers/images/2006/1121_large.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I predict that Joel will find this pic nearly as hilarious as a certain previous one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-810214028209311582?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/810214028209311582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=810214028209311582&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/810214028209311582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/810214028209311582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/at-ku-were-close.html' title='At KU, we&apos;re close'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-6795846961890289271</id><published>2006-11-14T23:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T23:43:48.009-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Don't Try</title><content type='html'>In order for an individual to get a babe, it must appear that the individual truly is not trying.  To that effect, what follows is a lost of a few positive measures by which you can tell just how hard you are not trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET: #3 (that's right, today is a biggie):  Don't try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some ways how....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The get-in/get-out strategy - in which you move w/in the social barrier, then quickly get out&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Always be the first one to end the conversation&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Avoid regular conversation&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Don't use the phone&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Try not to look at pictures&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;DO NOT ATTEMPT TO "MEET UP"&lt;/p&gt;The over-all point of this rule is, essentially, to do everything in your power to keep yourself from getting overly attached.  Once a man or woman is attached to the, as of yet, unconquested, he or she can kiss that conquest goodbye.  Don't believe how I met your mother.  If you are interested, make sure they are too.  Don't be a clod.  Don't try...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the word.  (Thank you, Steven Colbert.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-6795846961890289271?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/6795846961890289271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=6795846961890289271&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6795846961890289271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6795846961890289271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/dont-try.html' title='Don&apos;t Try'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-766162792926236349</id><published>2006-11-13T21:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T21:17:53.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Picking at Old Wounds</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, when I'm really trying to prove to the world how stupid I am, I go and open up old sores.  At times, this works.  Today... well, why else would I be writing here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem, you see, the reason the wound never seems to heal, is that it is SO EASY.  I have never met a person I could talk to so effortlessly.  Never.  And I've met a lot of people and made a hell of a lot of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, man.  Alright, here's the plan.  Don't let it fester.  Step away.  Cool down.  Wait a couple months.  Then everything will be back to normal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-766162792926236349?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/766162792926236349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=766162792926236349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/766162792926236349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/766162792926236349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/picking-at-old-wounds.html' title='Picking at Old Wounds'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-9026483776864651714</id><published>2006-11-12T04:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T04:23:01.891-06:00</updated><title type='text'>cain't dance the dance</title><content type='html'>Hey, you know what I'm bad at?  I'm bad at dancing the dance.  Somehow, other people are either really good at this or at least mediocre.  I'm just plain, outright bad.  And, to top it off, I'm completely lacking in aggression, so anything I might have made up for by striking out enough to get it going by simple luck isn't going to happen either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sucks.  That especially sucks because people seem to like me so much that they actually talk about what a great guy I am when I'm not around (or so the grapevine tells me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my After 2AM thought of the night.  I'm sure I'll think better of all this in the morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-9026483776864651714?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/9026483776864651714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=9026483776864651714&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/9026483776864651714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/9026483776864651714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/caint-dance-dance_12.html' title='cain&apos;t dance the dance'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3539365110119281269</id><published>2006-11-10T10:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T10:09:11.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Judge Bullock is awesome!</title><content type='html'>The following statements are a few words of wisdom from the great, the singular, the only, Judge Terry Bullock.  Learn them, memorize them, use them at times when you seriously need an old-timey phrase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;watering holes: you've read about them in cheap novels&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-weight: bold; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;people in hell want ice water&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;you can't have molasses if you ain't had no-lasses a' t'all!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Whenever in doubt, be a republican and wear suspenders AND a belt.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true! Right?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;It's always difficult to remember what you've forgotten.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3539365110119281269?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3539365110119281269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3539365110119281269&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3539365110119281269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3539365110119281269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/why-judge-bullock-is-awesome.html' title='Why Judge Bullock is awesome!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-1754376467591578387</id><published>2006-11-08T17:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T17:35:27.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Business Fights Back!</title><content type='html'>And now I'd like to offer my nomination for most vindictive business move in the wake of the democrat congressional power grab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First place goes to....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE OIL BIZ!  Which today raised prices across the board by about 10 cents!  Thank you, big oil, for showing your support!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-1754376467591578387?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/1754376467591578387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=1754376467591578387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1754376467591578387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/1754376467591578387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/big-business-fights-back.html' title='Big Business Fights Back!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-4466101528885531362</id><published>2006-11-08T11:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T11:41:50.856-06:00</updated><title type='text'>scheduling conflicts</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure how this happens, but it seems that whenever I'm in charge of organizing something, other things seem to present themselves as conflicts.  What kind of crazy world are we living in?  Why is it that this kind of thing never happens to everyone else?  I'm starting feel the rage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning green....!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RARARARAR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-4466101528885531362?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/4466101528885531362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=4466101528885531362&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4466101528885531362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4466101528885531362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/scheduling-conflicts.html' title='scheduling conflicts'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-6581535382409924078</id><published>2006-11-06T17:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T17:21:17.059-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Low Self-Esteem days</title><content type='html'>Do you ever low self-esteem days?  I'm not talking about "Oh, why can't I find a girlfriend?" or any crap like that.  I mean days where you keep feeling left behind.  You walk out of class, and everyone has already left for lunch.  People tell you they are busy and can't talk right now.  You get funny looks.  You even feel like everyone is a little more prepared that you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are some crappy days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-6581535382409924078?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/6581535382409924078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=6581535382409924078&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6581535382409924078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/6581535382409924078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/low-self-esteem-days.html' title='Low Self-Esteem days'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-5855875761073704766</id><published>2006-11-05T12:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T12:10:13.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Safety Friend</title><content type='html'>I went to this birthday party at Quinton's in Lawrence yesterday and felt awkward just about the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A problem with trying to be friends with everyone is the situation in which you are at a social gathering where you aren't friends with anyone.  Oh, you may know everyone, but you don't hang out with them on a regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think of it in terms of the "safety friend."  It's much easier to be all sociable with everyone else, if you've got the safety friend to touch base with occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I may have just been ridiculously tired last night, which is very likely.  When I'm tired, I tend toward painfully introverted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, everyone there was very nice.  Hopefully, my being there last night will pave the way for future connections.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-5855875761073704766?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/5855875761073704766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=5855875761073704766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5855875761073704766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5855875761073704766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/safety-friend.html' title='Safety Friend'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8938400227040969430</id><published>2006-11-04T11:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T11:34:51.040-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Tea and Colds</title><content type='html'>Oh my goodness me.&lt;br /&gt;You know what I love?&lt;br /&gt;I love me some tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With honey.  Also, I hate colds.  They really throw me off my pickin up babes A game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET #29:  Always wash your hands.  The cleaner you keep, the more you may avoid colds and other ailments.  This doesn't exactly GET you babes, but it certainly helps you avoid not getting babes, which is the same thing in business and taxes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8938400227040969430?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8938400227040969430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8938400227040969430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8938400227040969430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8938400227040969430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/tea-and-colds.html' title='Tea and Colds'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8157138518096776920</id><published>2006-11-03T13:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T13:56:48.103-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maalox</title><content type='html'>As should already be incredibly obvious, I am suffering from some mild guilt about my lack of updates.  To that effect, I'm going to try something new.  I'm not sure how well it'll work, but it's worth a go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHORT UPDATES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on, all my updates are not aloud to be bigger than the blogger box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I have a cold.  I didn't sleep much last night.  And I love... No.  I LOVE Maalox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, baby, Maalox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8157138518096776920?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8157138518096776920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8157138518096776920&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8157138518096776920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8157138518096776920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/11/maalox.html' title='Maalox'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-4692288517313863431</id><published>2006-10-29T23:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T23:39:25.609-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Pen and Paper?</title><content type='html'>Hallo, Leute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so that little spell of unpleasantness appear to have run its course, which means it's time to start talking shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On saturday I came to a startling conclusion.  This law school thing is going to require a return of the pen and paper!  As far as I can tell, in order to fully begin working on all the outlines I need, I'm going to have to a lot of work in a way totally unlike anything I've done in the past two years or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is truly unexpected, and I'm probably going to have to experiment with it for a while, before I can say whether it'll actually work or not.  I just thought I'd let everyone know that things in the world of Nathan are changing in unexpected ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, I figure it's probably time for another edition of HTGBWET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#312:  Don't be afraid to wear hot pants, as long as you look good doing it!  For Halloween!  And at no other time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all have a good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-4692288517313863431?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/4692288517313863431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=4692288517313863431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4692288517313863431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/4692288517313863431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/10/pen-and-paper.html' title='Pen and Paper?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-2599713337910906741</id><published>2006-10-28T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T17:37:52.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mediocrity</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you can tell, but we seem to be at that part of the year in which I start feeling really exhausted and depressed all the time.  This is a fairly typical phase for me and eventually goes away as finals get closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Douglas Adams once defined the Long, Dark, Tea Time of the Soul as the time on sunday afternoon, after you've gone to church, finished lunch, taken all the baths a reasonable person could take, and have nothing to do before getting ready for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The early weeks of November seem to fit that bill.  But that isn't why I'm writing today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I continue to persist in my doldrums.  Most days like this I ask myself that one, really ugly question.  Why am I so lonely now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much, I have a different answer to that question every time.  Today's answer is what I'd like to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel extraordinarily mediocre.  I feel like I'm that kind of guy who is pretty good at a lot of things, but who has never actually excelled in any facet of my life.  I'm good at racquetball, at german, at english, at psychology, at research, at research methods, at playing the baritone, at writing, at thinking thoughtful thoughts, at making friends, at dancing, at being social, at smiling, at cracking a joke, at...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping you get the picture.  I've tried my hand at many things, and I've done pretty good at all of them.  The thing is, I've never excelled in any of them.  I'm not fluent in german.  I only got a masters in psychology.  None of my writing has ever been published.  I can make friends, but I'm not actually a social guy.  I'm in that group of people who dances well "for a white guy."  My jokes tend to crack a few grins, but certainly leave a crowd wanting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I sit, languishing in mediocrity, taking vacations with the world and never committing myself to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my answer, today.  The reason I'm depressed (in the not actually clinically depressed way) and alone today is, I've decided, because there is not a single thing about me that people can point to and say, "That!  That is what Nathan is good at."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, the world need only look at the resume that is my life and say, "Wow.  What a remarkably immature fellow, who thinks he can talk so big."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take that back.  One thing I am good at is writing titles.  Like, really good at it.  I destroy at title writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a talent...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-2599713337910906741?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/2599713337910906741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=2599713337910906741&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2599713337910906741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2599713337910906741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/10/mediocrity.html' title='Mediocrity'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3051649638410479077</id><published>2006-10-24T01:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T02:04:24.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The October Fall</title><content type='html'>It's surprising, but even I, the greatest self-aggrandizer since Lou Costello, find that I need a little privacy at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this case, that means that this blog is no longer being imported into facebook.  It was a difficult decision, but a fairly obvious one, when push came to shove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it turns out that I may never totally be over her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know who she is, you haven't been paying attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered a website tonight that shoved her back into my consciousness, and it was a little bit like a probe zapping my heart.  I was - up until a little bit ago - pretty sure that all of that had gone away, but I was absolutely wrong.  Instead, I had simply succeeded in forgetting.  If this is how it's going to be every time, I'm seriously going to be pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I guess forgetting is one of those self-preservation things that we all do and we all have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently (I say recently.  It was nearly a whole month ago), she had a birthday.  In the past I would have done something, but this year I didn't, because, I think, I forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...because, I think, I had to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I've unforgotten, and it's too late to do anything real, so instead I'll copy and paste this &lt;a href="http://feigninginterest.blogspot.com/2006/04/sugar-were-goin-down-swinging.html"&gt;post &lt;/a&gt;I found that pretty much does the job for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tramore is a small town. It has a population of about 7,500 and serves an outlying community of about four million Dublin scumbags and knackers. &lt;strong&gt;Dems de breaks, folks&lt;/strong&gt;. About 5 miles outside Tramore is the village of Fenor, which boasts a population of about -8. It is famous for the &lt;a href="http://www.ipcc.ie/sitefenor.html"&gt;Fenor Bog&lt;/a&gt;, a wetlands reclamation project that has seen the demise of many a wandering wino. For this we thank it, if for nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is less famous for being the birthplace of my good friend, Miss Marie Connolly. You know Marie. &lt;strong&gt;Trust me&lt;/strong&gt;. If you're male you've probably scored her. She's a legend. Either way, your land probably adjoins her fathers. BECAUSE (&lt;em&gt;whisper it&lt;/em&gt;) she's a bogger. I didn't want to be the one to tell you but there you go. She lives (dramatic pause) &lt;em&gt;avec &lt;/em&gt;fields. As in: the &lt;strong&gt;countryside&lt;/strong&gt;. If you haven't, by some unfortunate occurance, gotten off with Marie then you are surely related to her. Thanks to the immense reproductive powers of the farming class, Marie is related to about 76% of the Tramore parish. Which means she can't procreate with most of the town. She tries though. Boy, does she try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if you are not a relative of Marie's or have never gotten off with her, then you have surely come into contact with her somehow. Do you remember that time you were soooooo sick and you couldn't remember your own name? Yeah, the girl that was holding back your hair? That was Marie. She's like that. Perhaps you got talking to a random blonde girl waiting for a taxi, and she kept &lt;em&gt;fucking singing&lt;/em&gt; and nothing would shut her up, or you fell over in a pub and someone picked you up and told you were grand and not to worry about it. Yeah, Marie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night (Friday) I decided that I would buy Aly a half-dozen birthday drinks. Unfortunately I couldn't remember where I left my money so Marie had to pay. It was pure, unadulterated, whorish gold: 'Marie, money over here, &lt;strong&gt;now&lt;/strong&gt;!' Marie gave me a pat down to check for my dough but fortunately (for her) it was not found. I found all my money two hours later in my bra. For all future muggers, that's where I keep it. No one's gonna look there are they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won't talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point is Marie, legend that she is, covered me for all my silliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie has been surrogate mammy to me for quite some years now: lending me fags, robbing mine back; buying me packets of crisps when I don’t want them and claim to be too hungover to eat; telling me that people were asking after me when they clearly&lt;em&gt; weren’t&lt;/em&gt; because she knows how this feeds my vile, narcissitic side [note: fairly large 'side']; laughing at all my extremely bad jokes; telling me I’m lovely when I’m clearly dishevelled and horrible; smiling good-naturedly when I take the piss out of her and generally &lt;strong&gt;putting up with all my shit&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is her twenty-third birthday and she deserves all the terribly out-of-character solemnity I can possibly heap on her ever-kind and disarmingly-genuine person. Partly because she’s pretty fucking deadly but mainly because she will read this, and everything rude and disrespectful I ever write about her, and she will throw her head back and laugh her ridiculous, loud, infectious laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie: dude, you are the shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, I was drunk writing this. &lt;em&gt;Fuckit&lt;/em&gt;. I love me some Marie.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go.  This isn't how I think of Her.  It's just kind of how I wish I could think of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie?  It's a good name.  It's not her name, but it'll do in a pinch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anymore, I know she's not a real person.  Oh, there is a girl out there whose name isn't Marie.  She really is just as beautiful as you think she is, and she really can take your whole soul and wrap it around her finger.  The trick is, she also happens to be a regular human with regular foibles and regular thoughts and wishes and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I forgot the foibles.  I only remember the smell of this perfume she wore.  I forget her regular thoughts and remember her struggles and triumphs and wishes and dreams that pushed her from being one in a crowd to being one in a million crowds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's October, I think.  It's her birthday, and the leaves turn brown and the sunshine wanes, because how can they compete with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it's just coincidence.  I'm not sure.  The only thing I'm sure about is that next year, around October, I'll find myself a little melancholy again, and I'll remember that it's her birthday.  And again the year after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, one October, when I'm very old and the world is a little hazy, the leaves will fall, and I won't know why I suddenly got sad.  I won't remember the box of chocolates; I won't remember the girlie drink; I won't remember the cough that pushed my heart into my throat.  I'll only know that I'm blue, and I'll probably sigh and attribute it to that chilly October fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is to you my blonde and beautiful, my unattainable goddess, my unicorn.  Though you will never read this, tonight, I say happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because when else could I say it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3051649638410479077?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3051649638410479077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3051649638410479077&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3051649638410479077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3051649638410479077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-fall.html' title='The October Fall'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-7115234463554346047</id><published>2006-10-22T03:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T03:16:18.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>self-doubt?  Me?</title><content type='html'>Firstly, I'd like to apologize for not having updated in a while.  This is just one of those things.  You find yourself involved in too many things at once, and then the whole world goes to crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, not much to say tonight.  I just thought I'd float something out there.  Have you ever had a night of inexplicable self-doubt? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have.  Tonight, in fact.  I'm getting ready to go to sleep at this very moment specifically so this night can be over.  My theory is that the quicker the night is over, the quicker my unpleasant burst of self-doubt will go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In lighter news, the Jetlag is a pretty nifty bar and Amanda is totally going down on Wednesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-7115234463554346047?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/7115234463554346047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=7115234463554346047&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7115234463554346047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7115234463554346047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/10/self-doubt-me.html' title='self-doubt?  Me?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3101365146946530479</id><published>2006-10-02T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T21:01:36.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>O, where have I been?</title><content type='html'>I found a nifty website that allows you to map all of the places you've visited.  I've actually BEEN to a few more states, but it would not be accurate to say that I visited them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's my list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedStates/statemap?visited=CACODCDEFLIDILINIAKSMDMOMTNJNYOHOKPATXVAWAWVWY"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedStates/statemap?visited=CACODCDEFLIDILINIAKSMDMOMTNJNYOHOKPATXVAWAWVWY" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (10/3 9AM):  For those of you who would like to map your own journeys, simply visit the &lt;a href="http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedStates"&gt;following website&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedStates&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3101365146946530479?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3101365146946530479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3101365146946530479&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3101365146946530479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3101365146946530479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/10/o-where-have-i-been.html' title='O, where have I been?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-8746123112437729530</id><published>2006-09-30T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T15:48:08.188-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A thought on dancing</title><content type='html'>Alright, so here's something I don't get.  Let's say you go out with a girl plus a bunch of friends.  It's an exciting night.  The music particularly good.  Everyone is singing and dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the guy and his gal are sitting around, not doing the singing and dancing, but instead just hanging out and looking "content."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like it.  That kind of thing simply does not match my personality.  If I'm going to a rocking bar with a lady friend, she'd damn well better want to sing and dance and rock the night away, hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twistin... Twistin... twistin the night away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.  Perhaps there are a wide variety of types of people in the world.  There had better be, because I refuse to go through some sort of stupid courting motions that mean I have to "be cool." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cool" is what I say it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-8746123112437729530?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/8746123112437729530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=8746123112437729530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8746123112437729530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/8746123112437729530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/thought-on-dancing.html' title='A thought on dancing'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3555037155161772662</id><published>2006-09-26T21:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T22:14:41.550-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Science'/><title type='text'>The Purpose of Science:  An Answer</title><content type='html'>Alright, so I've given everyone a few days, gotten exactly zero answers, and will now simply post my approximation of the correct answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  What is the purpose of science?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ans:  The purpose of science is very closely related to the toilet.  200 years ago, no one had one.  Now,  every single person in America has access to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.  That's the purpose of science.  It's ultimate goal is to take the world around us, figure out how it works, and - more importantly - figure out how we might benefit from that understanding.  More on this in a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  If one football team gets 1000 total yards and one gets zero, who wins?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ans:  Well, we don't exactly know.  It's probably the team that gets 1000 yards.  The reason we don't know is because winning isn't measured by yards.  It's measured by points.  Yards is just a nice way to guess.  In this case, our guess is probably accurate, but it remains only a nice way to guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ans:  Here's where things get tricky.  Why would it be the team that gets 1000 yards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, it's because that's what ALWAYS happens.  If you flush a toilet in North America, it ALWAYS swirls counter-clockwise.  If you clap your hands, you'll always hear a noise.  If you eat food, you'll always be at least a little less hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every case, the act is not the same thing as what you are trying to make happen.  Clapping your hands is not making a noise.  Clapping your hands is doing something that WILL make a noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.  That's science.  We are trying to guess VERY VERY VERY correctly.  We are trying to be so right, that there's basically no way we can be wrong.  In fact, maybe it's better to think of it that way, since that is how statistics people think about it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We aren't trying to guess right.  We're trying to guess NOT wrong.  We're trying to be as least wrong as possible.  We are doing everything in our power to cover our own asses.  If someone thinks they have an answer, we do everything we can to prove that they are idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the answer.  Now you know everything there is to know about science.  Now comes the fun part.  Let's use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we know that yards in a game is a great way to guess who is going to win, because we can come up with questions that might make the people who make wrong guesses look like idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess that the team that gets zero yards will BEAT the team that gets 100,000 yards!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, this person is an idiot.  So we know that measuring yards might be a good way to figure out who is not an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let's look at an example that can't make a person look like an idiot:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess that if I wish hard enough, my team will win!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...  How do we prove, and I mean PROVE without a shadow of a doubt that this person is an idiot?  We can't.  If his team wins, he can say he wished hard enough.  If his team loses, he can say he didn't wish hard enough.  There's nothing to measure.  There's no way to prove one way or the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we know that wishing hard is bad science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what if we look at something more current, especially here in sunny Kansas: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evolution vs Creationism/"Intelligent design"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should be fun.  First, let's take Evolution:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess that, if you put a bunch of plants that sometimes bloom white and sometimes bloom purple near some bees that ONLY like to pollinate purple flowers, you'll end up with the same number of white and purple flowers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, this person is a moron.  Eventually, if the bees totally ignore the white flowers then we're going to be running out of white flowers.  The plants that bloom purple more than white are going to get more attention paid to them.  The plants that bloom white are going to be ignored, which means they aren't going to be having any baby plants that bloom white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you keep letting this happen, over and over and over again, then you'll probably end up with only purple flowers, or, at the very least, with more purple flowers than white flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the idiot proves to be wrong, which means watching and counting traits (in this case colors) as they go from parent to child for years and years is a nice way to see what's going on.  This time, it was a nice way to see what bees could do to different colored flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's basically what evolution is.  Evolution guesses that animals and plants change, depending on how the world makes them change.  If bees like purple flowers and bees are how flowers make babies, then there are going to be purple flowers.  If animals are trying to eat deer, and the animals with the biggest claws eat deer the easiest and have the most babies, then there are going to be more animals with big claws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, Intelligent Design doesn't have a problem with anything I've said.  The only question it asks is, "OK, so taking all of that into account, how did we go from being tiny bugs to smart, big people?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which I say:  "GREAT QUESTION!  Let's hear your guess!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We got smarter, bigger, faster, (and with better eyesight and depth perception), because a greater being made us that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....  Um.  K.   I'm sorry, I'm a little confused.  I want to make you look like an idiot, like I made the guy who guessed wrong about the bees and the flowers, but I don't see how to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh.  Um.  Ok.  Try this:  Our eyes couldn't be as complex as they are without a greater being's help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Neat. I am down with that!  But wait!  There's still no actual way to measure that.  It's not that I don't believe you, Mr. Intelligent design guy, but you've given me no way to show that you are right or wrong.  Which means, unless you can think of something quick, I'm going to have to label you as bad science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wait!  I got it!  We can sweep the ENTIRE universe!  If we find the being or beings that made us who we are, then I'm right.  If we don't, then I'm wrong!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm... Interesting.  Ok.  I'm up for it.  Just one thing... How do we do that?  Oh yeah.  We can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therein lies the rub.  Something may not be admitted as science until it can be proven wrong.  Intelligent Design cannot be proven wrong.  Evolution can be (it just wasn't).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I'm taking a long time to get through this, so let's wrap it up by asking one last question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why this crazy, fanatical need to be able to prove something wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ans:  Because if we can't prove it wrong, then we can't use it.  Does God make the toilet flush, or does gravity?  God may or may not, there is no way to measure it.  But it is very easy to show whether gravity does or does not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means we can use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is the purpose of science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3555037155161772662?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3555037155161772662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3555037155161772662&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3555037155161772662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3555037155161772662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/purpose-of-science-answer.html' title='The Purpose of Science:  An Answer'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-3383283848670274595</id><published>2006-09-22T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T17:29:04.749-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Science'/><title type='text'>Science:  3 questions</title><content type='html'>I've decided to start a new series that has very little to do with getting babes and a whole lot to do with science.  Specifically, I'd like to try to explain the basics of science that so many people simply don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, I said "don't know" and not "don't get."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a big difference.  I'm guessing that most anybody can figure out the basic workings of science, because we all USE  the basic workings of science everyday.  I once had a teacher who argued that everyone is a scientists, it's just that some people were stupid enough to pay for a fancy piece of paper that said so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm planning on making this as easy and as obvious as possible.  If there's something you don't get, you're probably thinking too hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, let's get going.  Today, I'll start out REALLY simple.  To totally understand science, you only need to know the answer to 3 questions.  These are the three questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  What is the purpose of science?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Which football team is going to win the game, if one team finishes the game with 1000 yards and the other team finishes the game with zero yards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Concerning your answer to question number two.... Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go.  If you can answer those three questions, you'll be a master of science and the scientific method.  In the comments section, I'm open to answers.  Tomorrow, I'll do my best to explain the correct answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the future, look for a talk about "empirical science," which is just a fancy way of saying "prove it, beeeotch."  Also, learn why good scientists are the most conservative people on earth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-3383283848670274595?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/3383283848670274595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=3383283848670274595&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3383283848670274595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/3383283848670274595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/science-3-questions.html' title='Science:  3 questions'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-2183423308241421842</id><published>2006-09-19T15:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T15:09:45.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Labels</title><content type='html'>Hey everybody, if you haven't noticed, on the right side of the page is a link for "HTGBWET," which, as all of my most loyal readers know, is an acronym for "How To Get Babes Without Even Trying," but more accurately is a section of my blog in which I give mostly ridiculous tips for life, love, and, of course, getting babes without even trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, you'll notice that link.  I've now joined a blogger beta thing (?), which, as far as I can tell, is only cool because it allows me to label  posts under specific categories.  Now, I can provide a link for my best posts, all my tips, my mailbag editions, and, my personal favorite, my rants on stupid sayings that neither make sense nor are even worth considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the next couple days expect my list of cool categories to grow, that the world might better know the man, the myth, the legend that is NJ Thomas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-2183423308241421842?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/2183423308241421842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=2183423308241421842&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2183423308241421842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/2183423308241421842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/labels.html' title='Labels'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-5759162060364260475</id><published>2006-09-18T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T23:46:14.590-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Crazy Snake Guy</title><content type='html'>I have recently discovered that I can import my blog straight into &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;!  So welcome all you &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;schoolers&lt;/span&gt;, alcoholic &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;schoolers&lt;/span&gt;, and college kids!  Also everyone else on &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last week I decided not to write anything.  Each of us has a way of showing respect, and that was my rather weak attempt.  That said, let's make this week a good one, by kick-starting the adventure with a brand new &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HTGBWET&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;HTGBWET&lt;/span&gt; #22,324:  Give up and become the Crazy Snake Guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we've reached that point in my &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;semesterly&lt;/span&gt; cycle of thoughts.  I've once again determined that meeting and dating new people is just too much work.  That being said, I've decided against getting all depressed about it this time and am choosing to look on the brighter side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, yeah.  You'll note the abnormally high number on this tip.  This is because it is supposed to be the theoretically last or second to last one, in an ultimate sense.  Don't worry, I'll still have quite a long while to fill in the numbers &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;in between&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of it.  Here's a famous fairy tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once upon a time&lt;/span&gt;, a guy asked a girl, "Will you marry me?"  The girl said no and lived happily ever after, and went shopping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, stayed skinny, and was never farted on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The End.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, this is a stupid story for stupid girls with stupid cooties, but I imagine it can be adapted for our purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once upon a time&lt;/span&gt; a guy got fed up with having to deal with all the girls who instantly went for the muscle guys or the tall, skinny guys and chose to get a cool snake that scared kids.  His house was always messy, but this was &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; because people were afraid of his snake.  Kids never bothered him, and he grew up to be a creepy old man who yelled at pedestrians.  Also, he lived happily ever after, until he died.  Also, his snake ate him and then took over the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The End.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  Sounds pretty sweet, huh?  I mean, there's a guy that &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;people've&lt;/span&gt; heard of!  Crazy Snake Guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, also, it turns out that I will be in Traffic Court, which could be pretty fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-5759162060364260475?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/5759162060364260475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=5759162060364260475&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5759162060364260475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5759162060364260475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/crazy-snake-guy.html' title='Crazy Snake Guy'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-5275431963159022779</id><published>2006-09-09T02:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T02:51:32.255-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Google search!</title><content type='html'>Alright, everyone, I have awesome news!  My rant about how much Jim Rome sucks is the NUMBER ONE result if you google "jim rome getting tackled."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  Who's the man?  Correct:  someone other than Jim Rome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-5275431963159022779?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/5275431963159022779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=5275431963159022779&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5275431963159022779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/5275431963159022779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/google-search.html' title='Google search!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-7380069074796636802</id><published>2006-09-05T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T22:31:00.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Winning is for losers</title><content type='html'>So about that thing.  Actually, about this other thing.  I went to the first meeting of the International Law Society last thursday, curious to know what that was all about.  After a bit of discussion concerning Moot Court (more on that later), the ILS people talked about the organization and its history.  They mentioned all the neat things they did, like all the time they spent working for international law firms in Argentina, where the women are like flowers and the flowers are like salsa dancers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yadda yadda yadda.  Bunch of  nifty crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they pointed out that they were only 3.  That's right.  The officers included two co-presidents and a treasurer, but they lacked a secretary!  Oh no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for everyone involved, they had discussed amongst themselves for many long nights the proper way to dissolve the organization, when one  brilliant soul suggested that they simply elect a secretary, you know, from among the 1Ls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, the whole thing seemed staged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they asked for volunteers, and I raised my hands, figuring it to be a nice way to get involved and start the resume fodder, all at once.  Little did I know that I was about to face the worlds number one ringer for international law society secretary positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friendly co-pres noted my raised hand and said, "OK.  Anybody else?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pause.... pause... pause...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait.  There.  A hand in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh good," said the co-pres.  "How 'bout both of you give a short speech, explaining why you would make a good secretary for ILS."  The pres gestures at me to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is at this point that I think two things.  First, "Huh?"  Second, "Wait a sec.  Let's revisit that other raised hand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked to see who had volunteered and the blood froze in my veins (or something like that).  I was up against a girl (diversity) who was clearly of foreign dissent (diversity) who was wearing some sort of Arab headcovering (DIVERSITY!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I thought.  Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the subject at hand.  "Um, well, I'm glad I've had so much time to think and prepare before giving this speech," I say, to lighten the suddenly congested room.  I may have heard a nervous chuckle.  That nervous chuckle may have come from my own throat.  Time to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," I say, "As you said when describing the position, the secretary's job is to help organize and schedule and keep track of events..."  Oh Crap!  I am infamously bad at doing all of those things!  Quick!  Tiptoe around the issue! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, ever since I began college I've enjoyed doing all of that.  I'm a big believer in getting everyone together and promoting..."  blah blah blah!  Nathan, you're losing them!  How can you be losing them, when you never had them to begin with?  Oh my God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine the lamest conclusion you've ever heard.  Now assume it's about the international law society and we'll call that my finale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright," said the other co-president.  "And now if you'd like to talk?" He gestured at the woman who had raised her hand (who was also attractive, upon second glance).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," says she, "I feel I should be part of the international law society, because I am an international student" - ouch - "who plans on making ILS the majority of my extracurricular activity." - double ouch - "I feel qualified for the position as I spent all four years of my undergraduate years as president of the international student organization" - holy crap ouch! - "and I really believe that I can help all of the students better reach their goals to join the international organization."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap.  So who do I vote for?  Her or myself?  WAit!  What are you thinking?  You are a freaking nominee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, but she makes such a strong argument!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I lost the vote.  Also, I am not going to be part of any law school committee, nor will I be a part of traffic court, because I spent so much time at ILS that I missed the traffic court meeting.  And, just to round out matters, I lost all of my racquetball games last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was just thursday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-7380069074796636802?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/7380069074796636802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=7380069074796636802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7380069074796636802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/7380069074796636802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/09/winning-is-for-losers.html' title='Winning is for losers'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115611489484167570</id><published>2006-08-20T18:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T18:01:35.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Establishing the in-group</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So I've completed my first two days of class, and all I have to say is... eh.&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't say it's been totally impossible, nor does it appear overly imposing, but I'm definitely planning on waiting and seeing before I make any huge pronouncements.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Beyond that, I don't feel like I have a lot to say.&amp;nbsp; There are a number of attractive female fall starters, but the jury remains out on whether I'm actually going to get to know them.&amp;nbsp; The law school seems to be divided into a strange class system.&amp;nbsp; All the summer starters are now expected to be friends with one another, which makes getting friendly with fall starters and upperclassman an interesting experience.&amp;nbsp; Also, it means that all those people I never talked to over the summer are suddenly my best buds.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Weird stuff.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Anyway, tomorrow I'll tell you about da ting wot happened ta me da udder day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115611489484167570?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115611489484167570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115611489484167570&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115611489484167570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115611489484167570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/establishing-in-group.html' title='Establishing the in-group'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115586674272294018</id><published>2006-08-17T21:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T21:05:42.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The importance of perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So I could spend the next little while talking about my first day of classes or the wootoff that is going on right now, but instead I think I'm going to talk about something that boggles my mind.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I've noticed that some people are willing to stop dating someone for something as stupid as a lack of chemistry.&amp;nbsp; They may get along fine.&amp;nbsp; They may even really like each other.&amp;nbsp; Heck, there may even be an acknowledged attractiveness.&amp;nbsp; But if even for a moment it seems that not enough physical tension exists, then the whole thing is a no go.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I do not understand this concept, and I've been thinking about it pretty hard, trying to come up with how anyone could think that way, when I realized what my problem was.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I go on a date every 1/2 century.&amp;nbsp; For me, any kind of relationship&amp;nbsp;(including a single date)&amp;nbsp;is a precious commodity that needs some serious stewing over before it can be halted (and probably multiple tries at keeping it going).&amp;nbsp; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;For other people I imagine this isn't the case.&amp;nbsp; It seems quite likely that there are people out there who go on dates twice a week, or at least twice a month.&amp;nbsp; The very idea of that blows my mind.&amp;nbsp; Where can a person find so many people?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Anyway, for those of you who don't have problems finding someone for a nice friday night, I say bully to you.&amp;nbsp; If it just isn't that big a deal to you, break up as many times as you like.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115586674272294018?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115586674272294018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115586674272294018&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115586674272294018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115586674272294018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/importance-of-perspective.html' title='The importance of perspective'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115527515453354507</id><published>2006-08-11T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T01:01:24.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfection is ignoring the blemishes</title><content type='html'>You know what I like to do occasionally?  I enjoy trolling the dark depths of MySpace, because it gives me a chance to develop about a billion crushes at one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One interesting notion in psychology is the one that argues that attraction and love in general are based upon how high up in the world and our own estimations we can put a person.  Thus, the unexpected results that the people who are happiest and most likely to be together 20 years down the line are also the people who are least aware of each other's shortcomings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's what MySpace and Facebook and all of those things are all about, aren't they?  They are about putting our best, zaniest, funniest, wackiest, cutest, most beautiful and handsome faces forward, and then pretending like all of our baggage doesn't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dig that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I'd even suggest that part of establishing a new relationship is towing that tiny line, where we reveal bits of ourselves, but only enough bits to make the other feel comfortable and like they know us.  The rest, the baggage, we save for later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as I was saying, I dig facebook and myspace, because on those pages are a thousand perfect women who are just real enough to seem amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (5 minutes later):  I want to add something, but I don't know what.  I'm suddenly feeling great, though.  Really great.  It makes me want to tell a joke I heard yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there are these two penguins standing around on this drifting iceberg.  The first penguin looks at the second penguin and says, "Say, you look really good today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second penguin says, "Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first penguin replies, "No.  I mean really good.  If I didn't know better, I'd say you looked like you really were wearing a tuxedo!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second penguin pauses for a moment, then eyes the first penguin, suspiciously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... How do you know I'm not?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115527515453354507?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115527515453354507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115527515453354507&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115527515453354507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115527515453354507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/perfection-is-ignoring-blemishes.html' title='Perfection is ignoring the blemishes'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115514329479778059</id><published>2006-08-09T11:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T12:08:15.120-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>more dumb quotes</title><content type='html'>In my continuing series of fwd type internet quotes (see &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/07/value-of-tears.html#links"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-internet-quotes.html#links"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;) I've come across the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dance as though no one is watching you. Love as though you have never been hurt before. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though Heaven is on earth.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that I'm not sure if I can really make a lot of fun of this one, mostly because I appreciate the sentiment.  Also, there are no real logic problems, as far as I can make out.  It's very possible to sing like no one can hear you while dancing like no one can see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the only real problem I see is the implied lack of confidence.  Or perhaps the implied fear of being judged.  Either way, I get a sense, while considering this little nothing quote that I should be embarrassed of singing and dancing.  I should forget about my past hurts.  And I should ignore all of the wrongs on this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, in evaluating this quote, I should put it another way.  It's too simplistic, and all of its simplicity comes from the wrong angle.  Suppose we left the simplicity in, but approached it all from a slightly different path?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dance as though the whole world were your audience.  Learn and grow from your hurts, that you might love all the better for them.  Sing loud, that everyone might hear.  Live, for this is your one chance at life.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  Still overly simplistic, but now you aren't hiding from the world, you're embracing it.  I like it much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115514329479778059?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115514329479778059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115514329479778059&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115514329479778059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115514329479778059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/more-dumb-quotes.html' title='more dumb quotes'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115502385600125265</id><published>2006-08-08T02:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T02:57:36.016-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>1L blogs</title><content type='html'>So I feel like I need to address the countless 1L law blogs I've just discovered, but I'm  tired and don't want to right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, it's interesting to note that there are a heck of a lot of first year law students who are both big time bloggers and virgins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shocking, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET rule #248:  Don't be both a first year law student and a blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115502385600125265?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115502385600125265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115502385600125265&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115502385600125265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115502385600125265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/1l-blogs.html' title='1L blogs'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115445741538715441</id><published>2006-08-01T13:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T13:38:19.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>School's out!</title><content type='html'>Exciting news, everyone.  School is officially out.  That's right, no more feelings of intense guilt whenever I'm not working hard.  At least, no more for 2 weeks.  Then it'll be back to feelings in intense guilt, but for now I'm feeling fine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm headed home pretty soon, so all you Wichita folk are welcome to send a note my way, asking for a moment of my time.  I will certainly be gracious in my reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  And that's about it for now.  I'd like to say that I have lots of exciting news for everyone, but that just isn't the case.  I finished finals, and I now I can only wait anxiously for them to be graded and returned.  When that happens, I may have some news.  We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.  One other thing.  I have a new website, for those of you who use that to get to this blog.  It is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://njbetzen.googlepages.com/home"&gt;Right here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those of you who can't get links to work, here is the actual address...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://njbetzen.googlepages.com/home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, you all have a good one, y'hear?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115445741538715441?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115445741538715441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115445741538715441&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115445741538715441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115445741538715441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/08/schools-out.html' title='School&apos;s out!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115279362947348929</id><published>2006-07-13T07:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T07:27:09.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>patriotism and the distinction between "country" and "government"</title><content type='html'>Hi everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I occasionally read a philosophy blog operated by a group of professors, the  head of which being a guy named Brian Leiter from UT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, &lt;a href="http://leiterreports.typepad.com/blog/2006/07/zinn_on_patriot.html"&gt;a recent entry&lt;/a&gt; (of a crazy liberal bent) was added a bit ago, of which I thought I'd toss a bit up there.  It's essentially a discussion from Howard Zinn about patriotism and the distinction between "country" and "government."  Below are some quoted passages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;But those who gave their lives did not, as they were led to believe, die for their country; they died for their government. The distinction between country and government is at the heart of the Declaration of Independence, which will be referred to again and again on July 4, but without attention to its meaning. The Declaration of Independence is the fundamental document of democracy. It says governments are artificial creations, established by the people, "deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed," and charged by the people to ensure the equal right of all to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Furthermore, as the Declaration says, "whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it." It is the country that is primary--the people, the ideals of the sanctity of human life and the promotion of liberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Twain, having been called a "traitor" for criticizing the U.S. invasion of the Philippines, derided what he called "monarchical patriotism." He said: "The gospel of the monarchical patriotism is: 'The King can do no wrong.' We have adopted it with all its servility, with an unimportant change in the wording: 'Our country, right or wrong!' We have thrown away the most valuable asset we had -- the individual's right to oppose both flag and country when he believed them to be in the wrong. We have thrown it away; and with it, all that was really respectable about that grotesque and laughable word, Patriotism."&lt;/blockquote&gt;Now before anyone gets all crazy, don't assume I want to abolish the government.  Or even, necessarily, that I totally agree with Howard Zinn.  However, America is awesome, particularly because we DON'T NEED to abolish the government.  We live in a land of representative democracy.  If we don't like what the government is doing, we alter it, by voting for someone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115279362947348929?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115279362947348929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115279362947348929&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115279362947348929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115279362947348929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/07/patriotism-and-distinction-between.html' title='patriotism and the distinction between &quot;country&quot; and &quot;government&quot;'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115274229361853746</id><published>2006-07-12T17:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T17:11:33.646-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>The Value of Tears</title><content type='html'>Hi folks.  I'm just taking a break from the hell that is my Open Memo to bring you more ridiculous quotes from the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;NO man is worth your tears, but the one who is won't make you cry.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's begin here by pointing out the logic flaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If no man is worth your tears, then there cannot be one who is.  It's impossible.  If you were really going for some kind of reality here, you'd have to say, "only one man is worth your tears, and he won't make you cry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, though, there's a whole other issue here.  Since when did people, particularly women, place a value on tear production?  Furthermore, what kind of tears are we talking about?  I don't know about anyone else, but I'm pretty sure my mom has cried with pride a time or two when I've done something particularly nifty.  Does this mean I wasn't worth her tears, since I made her cry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's try this again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Only one man is worth your tears of sorrow, and he won't make you cry those tears of sorrow.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.  At least in a logical sense, I'm nearly cool with this.  But then I remember that people die.  So, supposing you marry, you have at least 2, and quite possibly several men who you might cry for in your lifetime, since grampa, daddy, and hubby are all likely to die before you, you lucky female-types you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I think we're going to have to just toss the whole thing.  Instead, let's return to a quote that is perfectly reasonable and correct in every circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Nobody puts Baby in the corner.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's a quote I can really get behind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115274229361853746?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115274229361853746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115274229361853746&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115274229361853746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115274229361853746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/07/value-of-tears.html' title='The Value of Tears'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115164781171719211</id><published>2006-06-30T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T01:10:11.756-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>retiring?</title><content type='html'>So it's been pointed out to me that I have a tendency of over simplifying things, then taking the simplified items and over complicating them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an interesting notion and one that I really can't argue with.  That being said, I've decided tonight that I will retire from this blog....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahahahaha.  Just kidding.  You know I wouldn't really do that.  Nevertheless, I do think I've been known to go a little bit away from the point of this thing (namely, to discuss my life, make funny jokes, and give my pride a nice preening).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, tomorrow I shall attempt to make amends.  I can't tonight.  I'm too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, really.  It's like an hour after my bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, ok.  One rule, but then bedtime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one I re-use and borrow from the captain of the rock pile himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET 27.5b: Don't put it on a pedestal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might ask what "it" is, and I can't really answer that one.  "It" can be a million different things.  The important factor, though, is that putting anything or anyone on a pedestal is really more than is deserved or even wanted.  Pedestals are reserved for ideals, and there is no point is attempting to force a person into an ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, everyone ends up either hurt, frustrated, or generally pissed off.  And sometimes with screwed up knees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last one is only if you have no idea what "figurative" means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115164781171719211?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115164781171719211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115164781171719211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115164781171719211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115164781171719211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/retiring.html' title='retiring?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115146526430723561</id><published>2006-06-27T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T23:35:33.676-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>More internet quotes</title><content type='html'>Alrighty, so it's time for another edition of "stupid quotes from the internet."  This marks the second edition of  this feature, and I think we should all give a little salute in honor of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Anyway, on to the ridiculousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot...who calls you back when you hang up on him, will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for the boy who kisses your forehead...who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats...who holds your hand in front of his friends...who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup...one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you...the one who turns to his friends and says "that's her."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, this is actually a really great description of of a man who honestly does love a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, that man is the girl's father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it again.  It makes WAY more sense than any other male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you read it again?  Good.  Now, to be fair, this isn't nearly as bad as the last one.  I mean, I suppose a boyfriend could probably fall under all these categories, but WAKE UP.  These are all things that every single guy on earth knows.  They are classic, nearly trademarked examples of things guys say to get their lady friends into bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic Guy:  No honey, I really think you look beautiful, maybe even more now that you aren't wearing any make-up.  You look so wonderful and natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic Girl (thinking):  He loves me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic Guy (thinking):  SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get it?  These are all obvious examples of "ways" to see if the guy you are interested in is "safe," and they are all stupid for being so obvious.  Here's how you know a guy is safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He argues with you, because he feels comfortable around you.  He gives you a high-five when you've really accomplished something.  He listens to you complain about life, but either doesn't offer very much support, or tries to "fix it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, these things lack any sort of romance, but what are you honestly looking for?  Romance, a relationship, or sex?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that list has everything to do with the first and the last, and nothing to do with the second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (6/27 11:26PM):  Lisa asked the following in the comments section....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Lisa:    so does that mean that relationship and romance don't go together?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to which I replied....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, it's an interesting question. I think to make that assumption, you'd also have to say that sex and relationships don't go together, which is clearly wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. I would say that romance, sex, and relationships are three independent but interconnected things. This means that we can interact with any one, without necessarily meaning to interact with the other two. However, being the creatures we are, we tend to assume that, because they are all connected, interacting on one level includes interacting on one or both of the other levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, in this example, men are using Romance to interact with Sex, while women are making the assumption that the Romance involved is meant to interact with Relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One could arguably make the claim that not all men use Romance to lead to Sex and that not all women assume Romance is meant for a Relationship, but I think those cases are rare and/or limited to married or older couples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait.  Check that.  I think men who aren't at least a little bit trying for sex using Romance are rare.  I don't know where I stand on women assuming romance is a relationship builder.  In fact, I think it's very likely that there are a great deal of women who are just as much horn-dogs as any men out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only difference is that being "slutty" is considered immoral for women in modern America, so it is necessary to hide behind pretty ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who can say?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115146526430723561?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115146526430723561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115146526430723561&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115146526430723561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115146526430723561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-internet-quotes.html' title='More internet quotes'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115136751662741088</id><published>2006-06-26T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T19:18:36.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DONE</title><content type='html'>DONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  No epilogue, but I don't know if I want one.  Everything else, though, is DONE!  My first freaking real, honest to goodness story is in the mother f'ing can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there's still editing and all of the terrors involved in the that.  Also, there's the "making sure it all makes any kind of sense," but I'm not too concerned.  9 months in, and I've finished the "writing" part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's the man?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115136751662741088?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115136751662741088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115136751662741088&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115136751662741088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115136751662741088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/done.html' title='DONE'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115135677414027114</id><published>2006-06-26T15:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T16:19:34.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a tortious update</title><content type='html'>You know I'm back, I'm back, you know it. WHOOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, so it's monday, and it turns out I lied.  I won't know until Wednesday how I did in Torts.  I swear they said monday, but I may have had other things on my mind while they were talking.  Like the final. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I've decided that the first play I want to produce when I start producing community theater (bet you didn't know that was an eventual plan) is Rent.  And I want to play Collins.  Or Mark. Or Roger, if the girl who plays Mimi is totally hot.  Of course, that remains in the distant future, so I suppose we'll see what's happening before we get to that.  Generally speaking, I think it'd be a great play to do after my 15 year acting hiatus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I want to apologize for getting everyone's hopes up.  I did not finish my story last week.  Stupid finals!  However, I have high hopes for this week.  Cross your fingers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115135677414027114?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115135677414027114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115135677414027114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115135677414027114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115135677414027114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/tortious-update.html' title='a tortious update'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115098489141766680</id><published>2006-06-22T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T09:05:32.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Torts Final</title><content type='html'>If any of you have come to know my blogging habits by now, you should have a pretty working idea that when I say I'm not going to blog anymore, I'm almost certainly going to blog twice as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that effect, hiya!  Today I got to sleep in, because it's stop-day in my little summer school world, which means I didn't wake up until 8:30am!!!  That's like 2 hours after I normally wake up.  What a wonderful world this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I intend to watch the US destroy Ghana, Italy beat Czech Republic, and... um... flowers bloom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK.  You got me.  I don't have a third thing to watch.  After watching US, I'm probably going to be studying all day long and/or until my eyes begin to bleed.  Then, when I've wiped the blood away, I'm going to go back to studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, yesterday I took my first law school final, but I wouldn't call it a REAL law school final.  I'm not sure how many other places have this, but at KU we have a class called Lawyering, in which we first get introduced to the library, Lexis-Nexis, Westlaw, Bluebooking (weird way to say writing citations), memo and brief writing, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had my final in that class, but, based upon the material alone, it obviously wasn't a real law school final.  For one thing, there was no substantive material.  We walked around law, rather than talking about it.  For another, I never saw the sentences, "Bill hit Jenny with a bat by accident.  What legal recourses does Jenny have?"  So, I mean, obviously this isn't real law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means even though I felt yesterday's final went really well, I'm still in a great position to be freaking out about tomorrow's final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and here is a site that I linked to once before, but will link to again in my one week series "How to get babes without even trying: Finals Edition"  (HTGBWETFE)  &lt;a href="http://obsessivelawstudent.blogspot.com/"&gt;Obsessive Law Student&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone can make a good anagram of that, I'll give them like all of my earnings for this month from the ads at the top of this page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115098489141766680?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115098489141766680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115098489141766680&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115098489141766680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115098489141766680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/torts-final.html' title='Torts Final'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115084452445593896</id><published>2006-06-20T17:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T15:17:03.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a brief interlude</title><content type='html'>As a mild concession to all of my many millions of readers both national and international, I've decided to let you know that I may or may not post much this week.  I have a final tomorrow and a final of friday.  As such, i'm only willing to give out a big "we'll see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, why not watch a few &lt;a href="http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail.html"&gt;strong bad emails&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (6/21 3:12PM):  Ah, Kay.  We all care, 'cause we're carebears!  C'mon carebears.  Stare!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115084452445593896?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115084452445593896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115084452445593896&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115084452445593896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115084452445593896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/brief-interlude.html' title='a brief interlude'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115042990188035494</id><published>2006-06-15T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T22:51:41.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You'r an old man, Nathan Brown</title><content type='html'>First, before I get into it, Be With You by Mr. Big is a pretty good song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm not sure when it happened, but I seem to have turned into an old man.    Instead of going out tonight, I decided to go home and go to sleep, because I have to wake up at 6:30, like normal, tomorrow.  Seriously, how much of a wuss am I?  Honestly, this isn't the first time I've turned down going out this summer, either.  I've also skipped 3 of the 4 get together my fellow law students have organized and didn't hang around long at the one I did attend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm not doing great on the social front.  I don't get how other people are finding it so easy, either.  Waking up at 6:30 sucks.  Maybe it's easier if you actually live in lawrence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, not much is happening.  I haven't worked on my story since I last wrote.  Whenever it felt like a good time, I was too tired to actually do anything.  Maybe this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115042990188035494?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115042990188035494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115042990188035494&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115042990188035494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115042990188035494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/your-old-man-nathan-brown.html' title='You&apos;r an old man, Nathan Brown'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115031846641230732</id><published>2006-06-14T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T17:41:32.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oliver!</title><content type='html'>NEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUVVVVVVVVVVIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit:  BTW, I know it's hard to believe, but I'm a big supporter of the German team.  Things were tense.  They kept almost scoring.  I kept almost leaping out of my chair.  When the ball hit the cross bar twice in two seconds, I actually fell off the couch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then.... Neuville with the goal!  At that point, I was resigned to a zero point game.  I was about to give the Polish goaltender his due.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew.  Seriously, awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115031846641230732?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115031846641230732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115031846641230732&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115031846641230732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115031846641230732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/oliver.html' title='Oliver!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115031494635156083</id><published>2006-06-14T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T14:55:46.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GPH</title><content type='html'>Germany 0 : Poland 0.  Halfway.  AWESOME game.  Seriously.  It's ten til 3.  Watch the second half.  If it's anything like the first, you'll be rooted to your seat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115031494635156083?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115031494635156083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115031494635156083&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115031494635156083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115031494635156083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/gph.html' title='GPH'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115026413328254222</id><published>2006-06-14T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T00:48:53.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>close</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if I've mentioned this recently, but my story is SO SO SO close to being DONE!  I am incredibly excited.  I wrote another 4 or 5 pages today, which puts me possibly within 10!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Yeah, that's about it.  School's going well, though this is a remarkably busy week for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115026413328254222?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115026413328254222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115026413328254222&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115026413328254222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115026413328254222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/close.html' title='close'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115014433191069744</id><published>2006-06-12T15:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T15:32:12.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hearts in Atlantis (A time, a place, a thing)</title><content type='html'>So I just finished reading &lt;a href="http://thatotherguy.net/archives/000806.html"&gt;Kyle/That Other Guy's most recent post&lt;/a&gt;, and I highly recommend it for any of you out there who wonder why any American would be interested in the World Cup, or, as they say in Germany, die Weltmeisterschaft.   Don't worry, it isn't a big, long article about how soccer is awesome.  It's more of a thoughtful note on the startling way an event and a time can have a profound effect upon our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may have been coincidental that I enjoyed an unrelated but equally as significant experience in my life that summer, but who can say?  What I'm interested in is your stories.  I want to hear about 'that time' when you suddenly realized that nothing would be the same.  Perhaps it was the moment you realized you were an adult now.  Perhaps it was the summer you and a group of friends developed an amazing fascination with the card game Hearts (not my favorite stephen king book). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, my guess is that it should be linked with something.  Kyle's time was linked with Friedel (the awesome bald goalkeeper whose matchup w/ Oli Kahn was a thing of beauty).  My time is irrevocably linked with a summer in the mountains of bavaria. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone?  (BTW, this journey MUST have happened at least a year ago.  Otherwise, it's too close and cannot yet be counted yet)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115014433191069744?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115014433191069744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115014433191069744&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115014433191069744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115014433191069744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/hearts-in-atlantis-time-place-thing.html' title='Hearts in Atlantis (A time, a place, a thing)'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-115008026723241079</id><published>2006-06-11T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T12:35:44.816-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Nerding it out: Old School</title><content type='html'>&lt;converse high="" tops="" shoes="" glasses="" rims="" black="" nerd="" star="" diesel="" jeans="" nirvana="" pomade="" doritos="" frito="" lay="" pizza="" hut="" papa="" johns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I just re-read my most recent post, and I've got to say, "Holy cowzinski, batman, welcome to trite-sville!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I'm going to talk about something totally different.  That's right, folks, it's time for another episode of HTGBWET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to talk to you about the "nerd-cool" look. This is a tricky thing to pull off, when attempting to get a babe.  For example, glasses/no glasses; tattered jeans/no tattered jeans; death metal t-shirt/no death metal t-shirt.  In reality, the nerd-cool look is often a matter of opinion, taste, and personality.  However, I do have a few simple pointers that should get you a long way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First:  hair gel.  Yes, it's true that there are many looks out there that don't require the hair gel, and even when you are doing the nerd thing, if you are a red head, hair gel is totally unnecessary, but for the rest of us, if your goal is - first and foremost - babes, then you're gonna need the jelly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/1600/IMG_0403.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_0403.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What you do w/ you hair after you gel it up is your decision.  Try not to look too much like a douche, but otherwise go wild.  I personally enjoy the hair combed forward and then slightly up look, but I'm definitely conservative in this respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second:  glasses w/ big, black rims.  Get them.  If you can see 20/20, screw off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third:  Facial hair.  Having recently departed from the beard/goatee thing, I can say that people going for the official nerd look should not have one of these.  Stubble is acceptable, anything else puts you into another category (e.g. mountain man).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tobonline.com/ArticlePictures/Volume82Pix/Snacks-Doritos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 131px;" src="http://www.tobonline.com/ArticlePictures/Volume82Pix/Snacks-Doritos.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth:  Be ridiculously skinny.  Sadly, part of being a hip nerd in the modern era is being so skinny that you can't possible do what all true nerds do: specifically, eat pizza and doritos all the time while playing on your computer. It isn't fair, but it's the nature of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, there are tried and true methods to go from fat to gnat in a VERY brief amount of time.  I recommend cracking yourself out, or going on a speed binge and vacuuming your living room for a week while the refrigerator tries to eat you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.converse.com/LiveFiles/1/1823/1U990_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.converse.com/LiveFiles/1/1823/1U990_400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, fifth:  Canvas shoes.  Converse.  Not high tops.  Seriously.  Guaranteed gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alternately, for all you true nerds out there, you could just "bee" yourself, but, seriously, when was the last time anyone actually did that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (12:31pm 6/12):  Kyle is correct.  Pasty, pale skin is an essential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/converse&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-115008026723241079?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/115008026723241079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=115008026723241079&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115008026723241079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/115008026723241079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/nerding-it-out-old-school.html' title='Nerding it out: Old School'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114996650772501040</id><published>2006-06-10T13:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T14:08:28.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I learned</title><content type='html'>So law school starting to become a little more real.  I got my first grade yesterday, though it didn't mean much in the short or long run.  It was, more than anything, a way to say, "Hey!  Pay attention!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask myself, what have I learned so far in law school?  I learned that America is not a civil law institution.  I learned that Battery and Assault are not the same thing.  I learned that for every action there is an exception and for every non-exception, there is still an exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that slipping on a banana peel is a startlingly complex concept and that legally stealing land is not uncommon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the most important first issue I've learned, though, is that a grade in law school is completely different than a grade anywhere else.  Here, everything is curved.  No one cares how well you do.  They only care how well you do compared to the rest of the class.  And people wonder why law schools are so competitive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is very little else to say today.  In other news, after taking a long hiatus, I've returned to my story.  As far as I can tell, I only have 3 sections left.  This means I likely only have about 15 pages left to right.  That's pretty exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114996650772501040?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114996650772501040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114996650772501040&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114996650772501040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114996650772501040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/what-i-learned.html' title='What I learned'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114972531364920168</id><published>2006-06-07T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T19:08:33.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>facial hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/1600/IMG_0400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_0400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I shaved off my facial hair yesterday.  Do you see how sexy I have become?  Do you see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114972531364920168?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114972531364920168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114972531364920168&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114972531364920168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114972531364920168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/facial-hair.html' title='facial hair'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114972511722194619</id><published>2006-06-07T19:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T19:05:17.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>more politics from ohio</title><content type='html'>A word of warning.  After being taken to task for stating partisan information and opinion and not being openminded to both sides of an issue, I feel it is necessary to say that the following political post (along with all future political posts) will likely be partisan in nature.  I may present the other side at times, but I wouldn't automatically expect it.  I, like pretty much everyone out there, am obviously espousing some position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I recommend everyone read the article whose link Joel posted.  It's a pretty good, highly informative article.  The only issue I take with it is when it gets into exit polling.  It suggests that people who point to exit polling as a clear sign that Ohio was screwed up are wrong, because most people thing exit polls are accurate to within tenths of a percent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I'm not most people.  Traditionally, exit polls are accurate to within 3 or 4 points.  In theory, this means that the nation could have definitely gone either way (as it clearly did) in the popular vote, because the exit polls suggested that Kerry would only win by 3 points, which puts the US in the too close to call range.  However, Kerry was supposed to win Ohio by 6 points.  This means he should have won by somewhere between 10 points and 2 points, but he should have definitely won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The obvious reason this guy thinks it's wrong to point to exit polling as a sign of inaccuracy is because he's looking at the national vote.  In the article, the author argues that becoming president by winning Ohio would have been immoral for Kerry to do, just as it was immoral for Bush to become president by winning Florida in 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerry clearly should have won Ohio according to exit polls, even taking into account statistical error in polling.  But he should only have clearly won the US according to exit polls, if statistical error did not exist.  Only people who think exit polls are accurate to within tenths of a percentage  would think Kerry should have won the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this way, I guess, the author exposes his own partisan opinion.  Specifically, that he does not approve of the electoral college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the rest of the article reads very well and even adds some fun points that I didn't know.  For example, our favorite nefarious character, Mr. Blackwell, attempted to make it a rule that any voter registration that was not on 80 weight paper would not be counted.  Also, people couldn't mail in their registrations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He eventually rescinded that first one, because his own office handed out registration forms that were thinner than 80 weight and because such a huge stink was raised about it.  The other was debatably illegal, and I'm suddenly blanking on how that was resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the story doesn't end there.  Blackwell remains a major player in Ohio and the midterms are just around the corner.  Plus, in ohio the midterms are a time of electing the governor, a position Mr. Blackwell is running for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider the following paragraphs from &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/07/opinion/07wed1.html?_r=1&amp;th&amp;amp;emc=th&amp;oref=slogin"&gt;an editorial in today's NY Times. &lt;/a&gt;(free registration required)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;    Florida's Legislature, like Ohio's, is controlled by Republicans. Throughout American history both parties have shown a willingness to try to use election law to get results they might otherwise not win at the polls. But right now it is clearly the Republicans who believe they have an interest in keeping the voter base small. Mr. Blackwell and other politicians who insist on making it harder to vote never say, of course, that they are worried that get-out-the-vote drives will bring too many poor and minority voters into the system. They say that they want to reduce fraud. However, there is virtually no evidence that registration drives are leading to fraud at the polls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    But there is one clear way that Ohio's election system is corrupt. Decisions about who can vote are being made by a candidate for governor. Mr. Blackwell should hand over responsibility for elections to a decision maker whose only loyalty is to the voters and the law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, this Blackwell fellow may be very good at skirting the edges of illegal, but I can't say that that is a particularly noble trait in a guy running for governor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, someone besides me was chastised for being boring on this blog!  yahoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114972511722194619?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114972511722194619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114972511722194619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114972511722194619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114972511722194619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-politics-from-ohio.html' title='more politics from ohio'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114956546546689329</id><published>2006-06-05T22:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T22:57:00.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Title</title><content type='html'>Recently, my use of the phrase "babe" has come under attack for overt chauvenism.  Also, the definition of "people" has recently been brought up, which leads me to an important topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What exactly do I mean by my title, "How to get babes without even trying"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, the greatest word in contention is the word "babes," and, as such, I feel the need to address the definition of this word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I use the term "babes," I may well be using it as a gender neutral term.  It is important to note that both men and women can be babes.  Consider a recent conversation at law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1:  Damn, girl!  Who is that fine mo-fo over there?&lt;br /&gt;Girl #2:  What?  You mean that hotty-bo-botty extra-large boy toy wearing the white, button down shirt featuring a nautical theme?&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1:  Hells yes.&lt;br /&gt;Girl #2:  Hun, he is out of your league.  That babe is none other than your fellow classmate, Nathan from Wichita!&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1:  Shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I happened to overhear this conversation play out among two immensely beautiful women that may only have existed in my head.  The point remains, though.  Men can just as easily be people as women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, ladies.  I am human.  I know: hard to believe, but it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second phrase in contention is "without even trying."  Many (up to as many as 2) of you have pointed out, "But Nathan!  Almost every single one of your tips requires a great deal of trying!  How can you maintain such a title while operating under such a lie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To these people I say, "Stop using exclamation marks while you talk!  Same with people who use the letter 'O' without an 'H' at the end.  Everyone needs to just calm down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is that you are misunderstanding the phrase.  You assume that "even" is an adverb proceeding the participle of "trying."  You could not be more wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Trying" is, in fact, a GERUND!  That's right.  In this case I'm using trying as a noun!  Which means that "even" can be an adjective.  Which in turn means that I can use the following definition from &lt;a href="http://www.dictionary.com"&gt;dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying: 2c:  Placid; calm: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;an even temperament&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes!  You read that correctly.  My blog is all about getting babes without placid trying.  In other words, amazingly, my blog is all about getting babes wildly and aggressively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rejoice, my friends, for I have not been caught in a grammatical faux pas.  I remain steadfast and true, courtesy of our favorite dictionary buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114956546546689329?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114956546546689329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114956546546689329&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114956546546689329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114956546546689329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-title.html' title='My Title'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114922862462613162</id><published>2006-06-02T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T01:10:26.213-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>votes, polls, and a new HTGBWET</title><content type='html'>So I was reading the rolling stone tonight when I came across &lt;a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/10432334/was_the_2004_election_stolen"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt;.  Read it and keep an eye out for Kenneth Blackwell of Ohio.  His actions might be the single greatest travesty of any American in the modern millenium.  Sure, Bush lied to put us in a war with a nation that had zero relation to Sept 11, but he, himself, has never gone out of his way to disenfranchise hundreds of thousands of Americans so that a state might be delivered to one party over another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vocab lesson of the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disenfranchise: to deprive of voting rights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  In america there are very few holy grails.  We like money.  We like power.  And we like the power to vote.  Life is pretty good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great deal of evidence exists to suggest that Mr. Blackwell may have openly stolen the vote from a minimum of 30,000 people in one day.  That's nearly the population of Hutchinson.  And those are only the votes that were openly disenfranchised in one fell swoop.  We should not forget fear tactics employeed, disqualifications due to home address foul-ups, outright ballot stuffing, and some pretty wild other factors that managed to put Ohio (along w/ New Mexico and other states) on the map with such outstanding nations as the Republic of Georgia, where Eduard Shevardnadze was forced to step down due to vote tampering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't take my word for it.  Read the article, then try your hardest not to get depressed.  This is not something we should get depressed about.  This is something that should piss us off.  And if you don't want to read the article, at least read this pleasant excerpt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;But as the evening progressed, official tallies began to show implausible disparities -- as much as 9.5 percent -- with the exit polls. In ten of the eleven battleground states, the tallied margins departed from what the polls had predicted. In every case, the shift favored Bush. Based on exit polls, CNN had predicted Kerry defeating Bush in Ohio by a margin of 4.2 percentage points. Instead, election results showed Bush winning the state by 2.5 percent. Bush also tallied 6.5 percent more than the polls had predicted in Pennsylvania, and 4.9 percent more in Florida.(33)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;According to Steven F. Freeman, a visiting scholar at the University of Pennsylvania who specializes in research methodology, the odds against all three of those shifts occurring in concert are one in 660,000. ''As much as we can say in sound science that something is impossible,'' he says, ''it is impossible that the discrepancies between predicted and actual vote count in the three critical battleground states of the 2004 election could have been due to chance or random error.'' &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Puzzled by the discrepancies, Freeman laboriously examined the raw polling data released by Edison/Mitofsky in January 2005. ''I'm not even political -- I despise the Democrats,'' he says. ''I'm a survey expert. I got into this because I was mystified about how the exit polls could have been so wrong.'' In his forthcoming book, &lt;em&gt;Was the 2004 Presidential Election Stolen? Exit Polls, Election Fraud, and the Official Count&lt;/em&gt;, Freeman lays out a statistical analysis of the polls that is deeply troubling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And, on a lighter note, HTGBWET rule #24:  Babes are people too.  That's it.  Just remember that.  As long as you remember that, you are the path to enlightenment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114922862462613162?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114922862462613162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114922862462613162&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114922862462613162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114922862462613162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/06/votes-polls-and-new-htgbwet.html' title='votes, polls, and a new HTGBWET'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114913739537362931</id><published>2006-05-31T23:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:49:55.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>freaking married people</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so I'm pretty tired.  Stupid being busy all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In news: I have a paper due on Friday that's making me a bit nervous.  This means there'll be lots of work tomorrow (just as there was lots of work yesterday). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In relationship news: pretty much zero.  Every girl I've met has been married.  It's a frightening thing.  I went from having lots of friends who were getting married, to gaining lots of new friends who are ALREADY married.  Talk about missing the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've heard that's more common among summer starters, so I shouldn't get my panties in a wad (a phrase I don't get, btw, and a phrase I'm pretty sure I don't want to get).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I should apologize for any previous comments.  Sometimes I get overexcited about politics and become outraged when people don't take civil duties as seriously as I do.  People should not take it personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  There's more, but nothing worth mentioning at the moment, so I think I'll take this time to sign off.  Bis Morgen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114913739537362931?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114913739537362931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114913739537362931&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114913739537362931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114913739537362931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/freaking-married-people.html' title='freaking married people'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114902673761568035</id><published>2006-05-30T16:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T17:06:36.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bias?</title><content type='html'>Apologizes, all around.  We haven't quite hit midterm elections yet, which means it's time to start talking presidents after bush.  To get the party started, let's consider the follow verifiable fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mass media press is biased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we can all agree on that.  I mean, look at the record.  How can there be any contention?  In the past six or seven years, they've routinely sided with the presidential candidate of one party and derided the presidential candidate of the other.  They've devoted thousands of words to misunderstanding and lies about one party's candidate and maintained that the candidate of the other party was open and honest, regardless of actual history and reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone see where I'm going with this one yet?  Allow me to continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've smeared one candidate's name through the mud for being, not only a liar, but a bad liar, though this candidate never once lied in any of the circumstances he was painted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They helped make a war hero look like a monster in two opposing ways.  First, they put in the mass media echo chamber the idea that he hated our troops and almost singlehandedly made the Viet Cong prison camps effective.  Then, they managed to turn around and lead credence to the idea that he WAS an evil troop member, who shot innocent kids in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, these ideas may have originated from others, but LOTS of weird ideas are out there.  It takes the mass media for anyone to know about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They completely ignored the scandal, profiteering, and possible insider trading of the candidate for the team they like, just to fit their ridiculously biased story that  he was so "open, honest, and fun."  Where they acted as the ultimate in echo chambers for lies and general dishonesty against the other team, for this team they breathed hardly a whisper of any wrong doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it continues today.  The two leading candidates for the 2008 election are on opposite sides.  Ironically, I kinda like both of them, but the press obviously doesn't.  Consider:  The first candidate has been married to the same person for an adult life time.  The second has been divorced once.  The divorced candidate went on to marry a wealthy heiress, which allowed the candidate to finance a political career.  The first candidate didn't exactly start out poor, but earned a great deal of wealth the old fashioned way: the candidate and spouse worked for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, if you just heard this, and you knew that the press was biased, you'd know exactly whose sex life they'd go after.  The divorced one?  Of course not.  They're gonna go after the sex life of the continuously married couple.  They're gonna paint the rigor and hard work of one candidate as ugly and unpleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?  It's simple.  The press is as biased as they come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to bother wondering why.  Maybe the press identifies w/ the side they are reporting against, and so the press does not want to be seen as pandering.  Or maybe pandering to the other side is simply a monetary issue, as Noam Chomsky would have us believe in his book Manufacturing Consent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, and I'm not willing to get into that argument.  I'm only willing to state one thing for certain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In recent presidential elections, the Mass Media (including the NY Times, the Washington Post, ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, the LA Times, and, obviously, Fox news) has been biased...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...against the liberals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(thanks go to Jamison Foser for his &lt;a href="http://mediamatters.org/items/200605260016"&gt;excellent article "Media Matters"&lt;/a&gt; in which he provides most all of the research in this post)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit:  Also, sorry.  I promise I'll write about that other stuff tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114902673761568035?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114902673761568035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114902673761568035&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114902673761568035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114902673761568035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/bias.html' title='Bias?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114894170869887323</id><published>2006-05-29T17:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T17:28:28.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sour</title><content type='html'>Do you ever have some days where you start out feeling pretty neutral, but then the undercurrents of your thoughts start to turn negative?  Like, it never really affects your day; it doesn't change how you interact w/ the world during the day; in fact, for all intents and purposes everything is the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somewhere, way deep down inside, you feel a little gremlin working away at a knot of unhappiness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No?  That's just me?  Seriously?  Well, that sucks.  Freaking gremlins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe there's even a phrase for it.  "Sour."  Such and such soured my day.  That's how I feel at the moment.  Not bad, exactly, just sour.  Earlier I had a pretty minor interaction that didn't go the way I wanted it to.  Now that I've had time to think about it, I've reallized that I'm going to have to have a bit of a confrontation about the whole issue, and I'm just not looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate confrontation.  There are those who might argue that this could make me a less than ideal mate, but I don't care.  I hate it that much.  I'm a firm believer in the notion that almost all bad things go away if you ignore them.  And so I'm gravely disappointed when I run into a situation where I get proven wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for my vagueness, but such is the price one must pay for zero internet anonymity, as I recently discovered (some of you may remember). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's it for the moment.  Tomorrow: my review of X-Men III and why I like rain.  Also, for you die-hard fans, expect a new HTGBWET.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114894170869887323?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114894170869887323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114894170869887323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114894170869887323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114894170869887323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/sour_29.html' title='Sour'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114870835115057878</id><published>2006-05-26T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T01:33:09.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a disclaimer, a tribute, and a great adventure</title><content type='html'>So it occurs to me that current fellow students will begin checking out this blog of mine, which could be bad news, as the facetious nature of the title doesn't directly come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tricky, tricky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... But after some extensive thinking (almost 3 minutes!) I've decided not to make any changes.  If it doesn't become immediately obvious that I am the last person to be handing out serious relationship advice, then there are problems.  However, please allow me a brief disclaimer, just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all of you out there who might find my title offensive.  1st, both men and women may be called babes.  2nd, for the most part I never pretend to hand out any real advice.  For an example of the kind of things I have to say, see this &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/02/rule-23-and-why-im-feelin-fine.html#links"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;.  3rd, I mean, really?  Offended?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for an actual thought.  At times I may feel inspired by one of my classmates, and at such times, I think I might write a little something about them (anonymously, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I would like to mention a student that proved &lt;a href="http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/moving-on-facing-up-to-truth-that-is.html#links"&gt;a recent theory of mine&lt;/a&gt; incorrect.  Not long ago, as many of you know, I decided that revisiting past woulda-coulda flames was an act doomed to failure.  It seems I was not correct.  One of my fellow students is MARRIED to a woulda-coulda old flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'd have thunk it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too long ago (like, yesterday) I was a pessimist.  I lived in a world in which second chances could not be given, a world in which the lack of an immediate yes equated to a lifetime of neverending no.  I'd finally decided that we all really are just as shallow as we seem to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, just as I resign us all to a cesspit of depravity and modern (sometimes called "agape") love, a story comes along to change all that.  They'd known one another.  They'd been friends.  They parted ways, and then fate pushed them back together, and a free exchange of ideas sealed the deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I can remember, I've believed that those true, honest-to-goodness relationships began as friendships.  I'd almost entirely abandoned that belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is to you, fellow law student, for giving me hope that the world isn't what sadly decided it was, and for inspiring in me a belief in humanity again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't know if this inspires me to revisit any of those ships that have sailed for me, personally.  For one thing, I don't know if there's any reason.  Life right now seems too full of opportunities and options and good times to feel like my only choice is looking backward.  I've begun what I think may be a great adventure for three fantastical years.  I cannot know now if that means anything, but maybe the adventure itself is what I should be looking forward to right, rather than any prize at the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114870835115057878?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114870835115057878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114870835115057878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114870835115057878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114870835115057878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/disclaimer-tribute-and-great-adventure.html' title='a disclaimer, a tribute, and a great adventure'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114849416744538379</id><published>2006-05-24T13:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T13:09:27.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>an empty message about walking</title><content type='html'>So I just spent 40 minutes checking my email and reading news in a desparate attempt to avoid walking up the hill.  I would consider acting in this futile way, but it just doesn't seem worth it to trade a bit of effort with endless amounts of boredom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As such I suppose I shall make the walk now.  Wish me all the best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114849416744538379?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114849416744538379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114849416744538379&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114849416744538379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114849416744538379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/empty-message-about-walking.html' title='an empty message about walking'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114844537838958914</id><published>2006-05-23T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T23:36:18.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the first few words about law school</title><content type='html'>Hi folks.  Too tired from homework to make any coherent kind of blog.  I would like to say that if you google my real name, you'll find this site listed in the FRONT PAGE!  This may mean I need to be careful.  Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I appreciate all of the contributions in the previous post.  I will certainly bring those up again soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About law school so far... it's alright.  Being a guy who feels uncomfortable when presented with a "right" answer, I seem to fit right in.  I guess our entire legal system is based upon "yeah, maybe, but what about in THIS case?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, also, our entire legal system is based upon so-called "legislating from the bench."  The two kinds of law traditions most americans know about are civil law (big lists of what's legal and what's not) and common law (big lists of generalities with the specifics defined by the courts).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America (along with almost all other english speaking nations) is based in common law.  Lincoln was a common law lawyer.  Adams was a common law lawyer.  Making laws from the bench based upon the precendent of previous laws and the constitution and the laws of the legislature is what America is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time you hear someone complain about "legislating from the bench" tell them to move to france, because they don't do that there.  Then feel free to accuse them of being a "frenchy," because it is sure to piss them off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114844537838958914?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114844537838958914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114844537838958914&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114844537838958914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114844537838958914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/first-few-words-about-law-school.html' title='the first few words about law school'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114802659113103759</id><published>2006-05-19T03:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T03:16:31.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future (comments accepted)</title><content type='html'>Have I mentioned that I enjoy reading the blogs of &lt;a href="http://obsessivelawstudent.blogspot.com/"&gt;other individual&lt;/a&gt;s who remind me of myself, but who may be slightly more creative and gregarious?  No?  Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Tonight I'm not going to talk about anything major, because it's late and I'm tired.  However, I would like to say... LESS THAN A WEEK!!  I'm actually getting a little nervous.  I haven't done real work in such a long time.  I wonder if I'll remember how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'd like a talk back session in the comments section.  The topic: How will Nathan do at law school over the course of the next 3 years? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) Top 10%, job at Latham &amp; Watkins&lt;br /&gt;B) Top 50, will always live in Kansas, probably KC area&lt;br /&gt;C) Top 75, starts at 22 grand, chases ambulances&lt;br /&gt;D) Dropped out, became a surfer in LA, suddenly grew immensely popular when his novel went to the movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to make up your own possible outcomes as well.  Creativity is key.  And don't be afraid to hold back.  I'll certain accept things like: "M) became a hippy, married a brazilian woman name Locquatia, eats mangos."  I may post my favorites on the main board.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114802659113103759?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114802659113103759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114802659113103759&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114802659113103759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114802659113103759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/future-comments-accepted.html' title='The Future (comments accepted)'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114783860429772280</id><published>2006-05-16T22:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T23:03:24.340-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dumb Quotes'/><title type='text'>For the ladies (aka womyn) out there</title><content type='html'>Today allow me to parrot a quote I found on (where else?) MySpace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Wait for the boy who pursues you, the one who will make an ordinary moment seem magical, the kind of boy who brings out the best in you and makes you want to be a better person. Wait for the boy who will be your best friend; the boy who makes you smile like no other and when he smiles you know he needs you. Most of all wait for the boy who will put you at the center of his universe, because obviously he's at the center of yours.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there it is.   I'm not sure which part I find the stupidest.  I'm giving to prize to either "and when he smiles you know he needs you" or "the one who will make an ordinary moment seem magical."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one is pretty stupid, because it can be taken in a hundred billion negative ways (e.g. "when he smiles you know he needs you, because he obviously is a boxer, hockey player, or POOR toothbrusher" and "when he smiles you know he needs you, because he reminds you so much of Rain Man, and don't forget to wipe the drool away, hun!").  Seriously, "you know that he needs you"?  It's so melodramatically meaningless that it makes me want to heave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second one brings to mind Alec Baldwin's amazing performance on Friends.  Allow me to demonstrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parker (alec baldwin):&lt;/b&gt; I don't want to forget this moment! It's like I want to take a mental picture of you! Click!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chandler:&lt;/b&gt; I don't think the flash went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who make every moment magical should be shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parker:&lt;/b&gt; Is there something wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Phoebe:&lt;/b&gt; Wrong? Really? You know the word, "wrong?" Everything isn't perfect? Everything isn't magical? Everything isn't "aglow with the light of a million fairies?" They were just brake lights, parker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parker:&lt;/b&gt; Well excuse me for putting a good spin on a traffic jam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, today I'm going to present you with a special female edition of HTGBWET.  Rule #1:  If you met him at a bar, he's dressed preppy, wears a baseball cap backwards, likes abercrombie, and doesn't laugh EVER, he's a dill-hole.  You don't love him; you love the picture of normalcy that society pushes on you.  If you're looking for a great guy, look for one who laughs a lot, but isn't always smiling.  Look for a guy who talks to you, before he makes assumptions about what you find romantic.  And look for a guy who isn't acting chivalrous (society's fake), but who is definitely acting like he might love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even then, there are no guarantees, but as a friend recently said, you're knight in shining armor could end up being "a loser in aluminum foil."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114783860429772280?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114783860429772280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114783860429772280&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114783860429772280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114783860429772280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/for-ladies-aka-womyn-out-there.html' title='For the ladies (aka womyn) out there'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114767807516506194</id><published>2006-05-15T01:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T02:31:34.630-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Moving On.  Facing up to the truth that is time to part.  giving way to the...</title><content type='html'>Alright, so I lied.  I'm gonna blog whenever I want, because that's what I do.  I enjoy expressing my thoughts, and this blog helps me to coherently sum them up.  And boy do I have a doozy of a few tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I went to PR's house  tonight, and  I've gotta say:  pretty impressive, especially for a  starterhome/ bachelor pad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the only way to watch kung fu is in high-def.  That should be some kind of law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there I discovered that Aimee had recently returned from her Cali sojourn.  Talking to her was pretty neat.  She's grown up quite a bit since her freshman year of high school.  Perhaps this shouldn't surprise me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now on to the meat and potatoes of this post.  So I went and watched a rained out baseball game recently, when I had a moment of realization.  I saw a very pretty girl that I hadn't seen in an extremely long time who I once had a crush on, and I just walked by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, when asked why I just walked by, I came up with a reason beyond simply "I can be very shy."  And the more I thought about it, the more confident I felt in my response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does no good to revisit the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in a society where one single dismissal equals an eternity of dismissal.  Relationships like those of Ross and Rachel do not happen anymore, if they ever did.  I want to say that men would probably be very happy if these kinds of relationships did happen, because then I could blame the whole thing on women, but I don't think that would be very effective, true, or realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is that the only time any of us are willing to turn back the clock and give a previously dismissed person a chance is when either A) we once had a crush on that person or B) that person has changed so much as to be nearly unrecognizable as their old selves (and this must be change in a good way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell, neither of these principals extend onto me, and, as such, there is no reason to concern myself with old woulda-coulda flames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's my thought of the night.  Here's a lesson to ally you HTGBWETers out there.  It took a school of hard knocks that lasted many years before I finally learned this lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't interested two months ago.  She's not interested now.  She isn't remarkably special, and she isn't worth it.  There's that old phrase, "Her loss."  Well, to that I say: maybe, maybe not.  The only thing we do know that is REALLY isn't yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are billions of people in this world, and we're all of us more alike than two chimps from different tribes at the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a hell of a lot of other people out there.  Go find them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114767807516506194?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114767807516506194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114767807516506194&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114767807516506194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114767807516506194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/moving-on-facing-up-to-truth-that-is.html' title='Moving On.  Facing up to the truth that is time to part.  giving way to the...'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114754961170367275</id><published>2006-05-13T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T14:46:51.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Abstinent" rarely stay abstinent</title><content type='html'>Alright, so in leiu of a  real post today, allow me to parrot a bit.  The &lt;a href="http://www.counterpunch.org/sharon05102006.html"&gt;following article&lt;/a&gt;, which actually smears clinton a bit for being the one in office when abstinence only programs were first introduced as a federally funded thing, lists a few stats which I find of interest.  You are all welcome to draw your own conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;According to reproductive rights       researchers from the Alan Guttmacher institute, the rate of unplanned       pregnancy &lt;i&gt;rose&lt;/i&gt; by nearly 30 percent for women living below       the federal poverty line between 1994 through 2001-while &lt;i&gt;falling&lt;/i&gt;       by 20 percent during the same time period for women in families       earning just $16,000 annually for a family of three.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;Among the poorest women, the       proportion of unwanted pregnancies that resulted in live births       increased by almost 50 percent between 1994 and 2001, while it       declined for women in families whose income was at least twice       the official poverty level.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;Unintended pregnancies led       to almost even numbers of births and abortions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;U.S. teen pregnancy rates are       double those in England and Canada, and nine times more than       those in the Netherlands and Japan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;Research shows that when contraception       is readily available, the rate of unplanned pregnancy &lt;i&gt;drops.&lt;/i&gt;       France offers free emergency contraception to teenagers, without       requiring them to inform their parents, yet France has an abortion       rate half of that in the U.S. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;For the record, no scientific       evidence exists to show that consensual sex between teenagers       is harmful in any respect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114754961170367275?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114754961170367275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114754961170367275&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114754961170367275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114754961170367275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/abstinent-rarely-stay-abstinent.html' title='&quot;Abstinent&quot; rarely stay abstinent'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114750222451707815</id><published>2006-05-13T01:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T01:37:04.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>rollin rollin rollin</title><content type='html'>A thought occurred to me today.  I should tell you.. I should tell you. I've got baggage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  I mean, I should let everyone know that I may not blog very much over the next week or so, as I work out moving arrangements, take care of last minute things, and generally head north.  If there is any particular topic you all would like me to expound upon, such as America's stance on East Timor, the amazing thing that is Victoria Tennant, or my own masculine awesomeness, just let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, I may write, I may not.  Once the move ends, though, I'm sure I'll have a few things to say, like, "So I was watching Joel sleep last night, when I started to think about the origin of ice picks" and other humorous anecdotes.  So keep your eyes open for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tschuss!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114750222451707815?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114750222451707815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114750222451707815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114750222451707815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114750222451707815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/rollin-rollin-rollin.html' title='rollin rollin rollin'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114728836973016789</id><published>2006-05-10T14:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T14:12:49.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Customer Service for Dell, Verizon Wireless, and Bank of America!</title><content type='html'>Nothing really to say right now, just wanted to make a quick note.  I've made 4 customer service calls in recent weeks, and all have been NOT TERRIBLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two calls were made to verizon wireless folks who helped me activated my old phone and then my new phone again.  The first time I was helped by some guy who was not personable, but was exceedingly efficient.  On the second call I was helped by a woman who lived in california and had an extremely sexy, cute voice.  We chatted about weather and mountains and montana and the pacific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I made a call to Dell to arrange financing of my laptop for law school.  Once again, no problems.  I was pretty concerned this time, because I thought my credit wouldn't hold, but once again the woman was extraordinarily efficient and everything was arranged lickity split.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I was dicked around a bit by Bank of America this week and given an overdraft charge that I didn't deserve.  So I called them and got a very nice woman from Rhode Island; we chatted about the weather in New England; and that overdraft charge was IRRADICATED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've almost moved up to a new, more perfect state of being.  Naturally, at some point this can't last, but for now I'm feeling pretty great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114728836973016789?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114728836973016789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114728836973016789&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114728836973016789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114728836973016789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/customer-service-for-dell-verizon.html' title='Customer Service for Dell, Verizon Wireless, and Bank of America!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724527634913435</id><published>2006-05-10T02:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:14:36.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Important Additions</title><content type='html'>And, last but not least, what would a wedding be without a beautiful maid of honor... or a kyle?&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724527634913435?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724527634913435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724527634913435&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724527634913435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724527634913435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/important-additions.html' title='Important Additions'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724514202375648</id><published>2006-05-10T02:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:12:22.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The life of the party</title><content type='html'>This little girl may well have been the life of the party.  Here she is taking a breather with mom.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1111.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724514202375648?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724514202375648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724514202375648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724514202375648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724514202375648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/life-of-party.html' title='The life of the party'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724507312588900</id><published>2006-05-10T02:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:11:13.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is having fun now?</title><content type='html'>Rockin' all night long!&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724507312588900?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724507312588900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724507312588900&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724507312588900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724507312588900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/who-is-having-fun-now.html' title='Who is having fun now?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724496848334649</id><published>2006-05-10T02:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:09:28.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go KU car!</title><content type='html'>Rock Chalk!&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724496848334649?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724496848334649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724496848334649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724496848334649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724496848334649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/go-ku-car.html' title='Go KU car!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724493069897574</id><published>2006-05-10T02:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:08:50.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mastercard Commercial</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Priceless!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724493069897574?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724493069897574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724493069897574&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724493069897574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724493069897574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/mastercard-commercial.html' title='Mastercard Commercial'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114724484343998008</id><published>2006-05-10T02:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T02:07:23.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>K-diddy and the groom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/640/IMG_1091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4649/397/320/IMG_1091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  For those of you who weren't there, I thought I'd post a pic or two of Kristi's wedding.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114724484343998008?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114724484343998008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114724484343998008&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724484343998008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114724484343998008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/k-diddy-and-groom.html' title='K-diddy and the groom'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114714236625062295</id><published>2006-05-08T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T21:39:26.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An apology, in a sense</title><content type='html'>Well, my initial plan for this post was to write an apology to a particular person, but that just doesn't sound like me.  I was right the first time around.  Sure, I felt like an ass later and probably should not have broadcasted my thoughts quite so widely.  Lord knows I've been able to keep my trap shut once in a while in other situations, but what's done is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What AM I sorry about?  I know I am sorry, but let's consider exactly why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for having caused conflict.  I'm sorry for having dragged a real name into the story, when guilt/innocence was not proven.  I'm sorry for having hurt feelings and making people feel uncomfortable.  I'm sorry for having dragged attention away from where it belonged at the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Yeah, I think that takes care of it.  I'm not particularly sorry for talking about a famous type of interaction, because it's an important type to air out.  I'm not sorry for airing my thoughts on the matter, nor for admitting my boundless lack of self-confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now... a tribute to Kristi: bow chick a bow wow!  Chick a chicka bow wow! Chicka bow wow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114714236625062295?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114714236625062295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114714236625062295&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114714236625062295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114714236625062295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/apology-in-sense.html' title='An apology, in a sense'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114671571210387550</id><published>2006-05-03T22:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T23:32:01.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving On</title><content type='html'>Today I watched Hitch for the first time since I saw it in the theaters, and I have to say, it isn't as amazing as I remember.  Sure, it's good.  I definitely enjoyed it and saw the parallels in my life and personality, but (and this could just be wishful thinking) I think I've moved beyond that kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's move on in general.  Today I did a few things  in preparation for school, which of course leads to  daydreaming about school, which in turn leads to  looking up other people who go to school at KU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this leads me to believe one thing.  To be successful in law school, you have to be a pretty funny person in the so-called blogosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I'd like to talk to everyone today about something near and dear to my heart.  My Cell Phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, my VX8100, which I affectionately refer to as Timmy (and which my two year old niece calls either "mines" or "pictures!"), has been cut off from the powers that be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, the power cord is not handy and will not be handy for about 2 weeks.  The battery is dead.  My social life is forever ruined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prostitutes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means I wasn't able to talk to or call anyone for a whole 24 hours.  I ordered a replacement from ebay (S&amp;H was 6.50, the replacement cord itself was 1 penny - ebay is amazing), but who knows when that is getting here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I cried... and I begged... for you to love me, love, say that you'll love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  I mean, I was sad.  Then, like a vision from the heavens, I realized how to deal with my current crisis.  My mom wanted me to clear out my truck in preparation for moving.  I opened the truck bed, pulled out an extremely old bag, brought it inside, and opened it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What did you find?" you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found MY OLD PHONE FROM MONTANA!!  That's right!  That's why you don't throw things away and why Joey doesn't share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it took a long time and was probably totally unnecessary, but my old VX3100 is back in operating condition as of a little while ago.  It has been successfully re-activated, and the good times are here again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Rule (unrelated to the maxims of HTGBWET): if you want to touch me, you have to be willing to perform strange phone related acts with me from many miles away.  All others are verboten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except Kyle, who is my driving buddy this weekend.  Also Kristi, I guess, but only because saturday is her special day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit (5 minutes later):  Also, whoever is from (or near) westlake village, CA should step forward.  I'm curious who is reading my blog from out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114671571210387550?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114671571210387550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114671571210387550&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114671571210387550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114671571210387550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/moving-on.html' title='Moving On'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114649977711947549</id><published>2006-05-01T10:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T11:09:37.150-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HTGBWET'/><title type='text'>Beta and the V-train</title><content type='html'>Hallo Leute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been over a half week since my last  post.  I don't know if anyone noticed that, but I do heartily apologize.  Starting on Thursday I had to house sit for my aunt, and it sort of precluded any excellent post writing, then on saturday I went apt. hunting in the lawrence/kc area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, I'm back!  That's right.  Welcome to HTGBWET 2.0.14.04212.63 BETA!  Yes, it's been a long time in coming, but HTGBWET has been needing a new influx of talent and wisdom, and the only person I know with newer talent and wisdom than me is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME AGAIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means, of course, if you are actually keeping score, that virtually nothing has changed.  Maybe next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do have a bit of good news for at least one person out there.  K-tastic, I did not fall off the V-train this week, which means, unless something very unexpected happens, you shall pass me in our little race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should know, though, that it looked like I could have.  I met a REALLY freaky chick at the bars who was gonna go home with this couple and have a 3-way (swear to God.  The two chicks were making out hard core.  It was nifty).  Anyway, she was gonna do that, but she offered me a ride home and, based upon a simple count of ass-grabbin', I'm pretty sure that things would have proceded in a very interesting direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the couple did not want her to take me home, and I eventually relented.  I may have come to the conclusion that a nameless one-night stand might not be the best way to fall off the v-train.  I guess there's something to be said for having a pre-existing relationship, before getting down to any hardcore boning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of you other reads though, you need to take this as a lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HTGBWET Tip #84:  Lose your virginity early, so you don't have to worry about facing moral dilemmas later.  It's very difficult to get babes when you are saying no to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114649977711947549?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114649977711947549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114649977711947549&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114649977711947549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114649977711947549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/05/beta-and-v-train.html' title='Beta and the V-train'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114606491016512546</id><published>2006-04-26T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T11:38:36.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rent?</title><content type='html'>Screw it.  Let's just &lt;a href="http://www.siteforrent.com"&gt;open up a restaurant in Santa Fe&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, Rent is an amazingly touching movie, even if the ending is a little dumb.  In fact, maybe that's part of it.  You are never quite satisfied with the end and are forced to live through the music in the middle again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I'm listening to the song "Will I," and it has put me in a thoughtful mood.  Sometimes while we're all busy having fun or worrying about petty concerns like de-virginization, we sort of forget that maybe our lives aren't all about filfilling silly whims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have much else to say beyond that.  This isn't really a do-gooder post.  I'm not going to provide any links to the good will or anything like that.  I just find myself caught up in the lyrics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I lose my dignity?  Will someone care?&lt;br /&gt;Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I think we've all been in a place in life where we wonder this.  Lord knows I have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I've got nothing.  I don't know how to express what I want to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my freshman year of college.  The first semester sucked, but I somehow managed to get through it.  The second was not so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I distinctly remember times when I would feel so overwhelmed that all I could think to do was go hide in an empty room and stare at the wall.  I had not learned to cope.  There was even one very terrible day, as I was driving back up to school from a trip home, when I seriously considered wrecking my car, just so I wouldn't have to go back up to that terrible place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I think of when I hear this song.  I remember the fear.  I remember the terror.  I remember thinking that I was being attacked from all sides, like standing naked in a hurricane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book "A Princess Bride" they talk more vividly of the torture machine that momentarily kills the man in black.  The story goe that the man in black had been trained how to escape the pain of torture by moving his conciousness into the dark, safe places in his body that were not feeling the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the torture machine devised did not allow that.  There was no safe place.  Every part of his body was covered by the thing, including his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, then it got a little better.  I didn't even notice the change; it was so gradual.  I attribute some of this to an english professor of mine named Max Sutton, but that is a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The semester ended.  I went home and had a boring summer job.  And when I came back, I discovered that college wasn't as terrible as I remembered.  It was really very surprising how much I enjoyed the experience after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I lose my dignity?  Will someone care?&lt;br /&gt;Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a surprisingly happy guy.  I've lived a peaceful, good life so far.  It makes me wonder.  If I've found myself asking these questions for a semester, how many other people ask them far longer?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114606491016512546?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114606491016512546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114606491016512546&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114606491016512546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114606491016512546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/04/rent.html' title='Rent?'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114601304085987793</id><published>2006-04-25T19:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T19:57:20.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>confidence and prostitution</title><content type='html'>I hate to point to other sources of insight, but sometimes the world throws me these bones, and I don't know what else to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched yet another episode of How I Met Your  Mother, and it was  pretty good.  The storyline wasn't as awesome as last week, but the message was just as important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: about to give it all away:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the main character guy gets set up on this date with a hooker by Barney, who is the man.  And things are going REALLY WELL, because, obviously, she is a hooker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, Ted (the main character) and the hooker go  up to this hotel room, and ted says he can't sleep with a prostitute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Barney reveals that "ha ha" she ISN'T  a prostitute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story:  Confidence.  Ted wasn't worried about what to say or anything, because he knew they were gonna get together.  Now if he could just bring that kind of game every time: bamm, he'd be on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an interesting thought and one I'll have to keep in mind.  It's kinda like shooting an arrow.  Don't shoot at the target, shoot through and past the target.  This also works in pool.  Don't worry about the ball you're trying to sink.  Worry about where the cue is going after you sink the ball.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114601304085987793?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114601304085987793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114601304085987793&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114601304085987793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114601304085987793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/04/confidence-and-prostitution.html' title='confidence and prostitution'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114594111602593611</id><published>2006-04-24T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T23:58:36.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Less than 2 weeks!</title><content type='html'>Alright, folks.  It is about to be Tuesday, April 25.  This means that we have less than 2 weeks before Kristi gets married and finds herself at the station off the v-train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much consideration (and with an amused eye cast toward the contention from Friday), I've decided it is everyone's job to push Felix off the v-train BEFORE these two weeks are up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this does not happen, Felix will be sad, but unsurprised.  However, secondhand sources indicate that he will blame all of you for making him officially "that guy who was a virgin longer than KRISTI!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also swears that if the movie 40 year old virgin becomes like a biopic, he's gonna be pretty pissed off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114594111602593611?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114594111602593611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114594111602593611&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114594111602593611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114594111602593611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/04/less-than-2-weeks.html' title='Less than 2 weeks!'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114589976717072565</id><published>2006-04-24T11:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T12:29:27.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>monday and floss</title><content type='html'>Ma chere Mademoiselle et Monsieur, it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that I welcome you this morning.  And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair as the HTGBWET proudly presents - Monday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, all.  Isn't this a great morning?  Some mondays I hate, but this one is not one of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was fairly empty.  Aside from seeing American Dreamz (I enjoyed it) and dancing naked through the streets of Colwich at 4am, nothing really happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.  I lied about one of those two things.  Can you guess which one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, as we all know, when nothing of any note happens in between postings it is important for us at HTGBWET to come up with a life lesson so as to attract new readers and maintain old ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, today's life lesson is:  Always have floss handy if you are eating corn on the cob or an apple.  This may not happen to some people, but it is a source of neverending irritation for yours truly.  There I am, relaxedly enjoying an apple, when suddenly - and without provocation - the skin of the apple gets tripped inbetween my teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BASTARD APPLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my teeth gaps are really frustrating.  They aren't wide enough to allow a fingernail or toothpick to remove the bit of apple skin, and they aren't narrow enough to simply never allow the skin in in the first place.  As such, the only solution for myself and countless thousands of other loyal readers is to sit in silence or find floss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regrettably, I just ate lunch and no floss is handy.  Perhaps I'll go downstairs and get some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114589976717072565?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114589976717072565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114589976717072565&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114589976717072565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114589976717072565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/04/monday-and-floss.html' title='monday and floss'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19618503.post-114565797315481705</id><published>2006-04-21T17:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T17:19:33.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Mailbag - 4/21</title><content type='html'>In what I hope can only be an exciting move, I've decided to create a new format for fridays, after the surprising success of my tuesday mailbag edition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right prognisticators out there, every friday I will select the comments I like the most from the week and slap them on the front page, then make silly remarks/responses to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin, let us consider the quiet musings of Kiki, a loner and ne'er-do-well from Tallahassee, FL, who responded effusively to my sex statistics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;  These statistics bode very well for me in 2 weeks.  YIPEE!!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;Yes, Kristi.  We know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me to an odd question.  Which of that infamous original group that first had it's founding my junior year at the big table will be the last remaining true virgin?  Vegas has Felix by 20 points, but two dark horses are eyeing him warily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new best friend at HTGBWET  - Vince - had this to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The last person I was in bed with would have been willing to repeat the experience, but I wasn't. I kinda regret having been with her in the first place, as it was the first time I let myself get in that situation with someone I wasn't into intellectually and/or emotionally... no thanks, again.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The editors at HTGBWET give a huge thumbs up to bar skanks, Vince.  Sure, they aren't for everyone, and certainly there is a bit of regret later, but at the same time, at least you gave your hand a rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The editors at HTGBWET instantly regret that last remark, and, as a consolation give Vince the last comment of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This resolution never lasts. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women are too powerful, impossible to resist forever.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiser words have never been said.  Sure, He-Man had the power of Gray Skull, but didn't that mean that he was just the Sorceress's bitch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that we return you to your regularly scheduled programming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19618503-114565797315481705?l=babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/feeds/114565797315481705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19618503&amp;postID=114565797315481705&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114565797315481705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19618503/posts/default/114565797315481705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babeswithouttrying.blogspot.com/2006/04/friday-mailbag-421.html' title='Friday Mailbag - 4/21'/><author><name>Nathan</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
