<?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-15081182</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:44:06.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sein Felda</title><subtitle type='html'>The blog about nothing. Not that there's anything wrong with that.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>312</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2360543004677800526</id><published>2011-12-29T13:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T13:23:55.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>t-shirt</title><content type='html'>Why is a t-shirt called a t-shirt? It doesn't look like a t! It looks more like pi. It should be called a pi-shirt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2360543004677800526?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2360543004677800526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2360543004677800526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2360543004677800526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2360543004677800526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/12/t-shirt.html' title='t-shirt'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2284375757608110707</id><published>2011-12-12T17:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T17:26:33.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evaporated milk</title><content type='html'>What's the deal with evaporated milk? If it were evaporated, how come I can pour it into the batter?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2284375757608110707?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2284375757608110707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2284375757608110707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2284375757608110707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2284375757608110707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/12/evaporated-milk.html' title='Evaporated milk'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6231932601704320000</id><published>2011-11-30T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T11:51:13.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun size</title><content type='html'>So what's the deal with smaller-sized M&amp;amp;M packs being called the "fun size"?? I thought MORE M&amp;amp;M's was fun, not LESS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6231932601704320000?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6231932601704320000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6231932601704320000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6231932601704320000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6231932601704320000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/11/fun-size.html' title='Fun size'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2644530984428930134</id><published>2011-10-22T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T11:18:22.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies</title><content type='html'>What amazes me about people having babies is not how often it happens, but that *that* many people are willing to forgo sleep and their freedom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2644530984428930134?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2644530984428930134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2644530984428930134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2644530984428930134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2644530984428930134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/10/babies.html' title='Babies'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4569824158050464771</id><published>2011-10-20T11:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T11:17:38.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Toasters</title><content type='html'>Why do people buy toasters when you can do so much more with&amp;nbsp;a toaster oven?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4569824158050464771?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4569824158050464771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4569824158050464771' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4569824158050464771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4569824158050464771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/10/toasters.html' title='Toasters'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8289938252533411043</id><published>2011-08-24T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T16:34:50.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brocolli</title><content type='html'>Asian Americans get stereotyped as hard-working and efficient. So doesn't it seem very very odd that brocolli in Chinese food is cut so incredibly big??? You would think they'd take a bit more effort and time into chopping the brocolli into smaller pieces. It is very difficult to eat, particularly at the airport or with take-out in a hotel room. A plastic&amp;nbsp;knife doesn't cut it and the pieces are hard to pick up with a plastic fork. So you end up looking like an idiot trying to shove&amp;nbsp;a huge piece&amp;nbsp;in your mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do the cooks have against small pieces of brocolli? Have they tried to eat it themselves? Just sayin....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8289938252533411043?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8289938252533411043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8289938252533411043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8289938252533411043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8289938252533411043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/08/brocolli.html' title='Brocolli'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5951710877947291277</id><published>2011-01-23T08:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T08:49:48.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The first date.</title><content type='html'>Part of what makes dating so frustrating is being on a high from the excitement at the beginning, and then becoming disappointed with the person and situation just a couple weeks after meeting them. And I wonder if that is due to people trying too hard to make a certain impression at the beginning stages of dating. If the person treats the first date as an interview and presents only their best selves, then there is nowhere to go from there but down. So what we really need to do is list out for the date all our flaws, just lay all the cards out on the table. That way, there is no place to go but up in terms of expectations for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman: I'm compulsive.&lt;br /&gt;Man: I'm condescending.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: I'll yell at you if you don't clean up after yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Man: I have no idea what I'm doing in bed.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: I need 22 hours of the day to myself and hate most everybody.&lt;br /&gt;Man: My vocabularly is about the level of a 4th grader.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: Great, this will work out if I boss you around.&lt;br /&gt;Man: Sounds great, I'm a masochist.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: How about the movie at 7?&lt;br /&gt;Man: Sure, pick you up at 6:30.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5951710877947291277?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5951710877947291277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5951710877947291277' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5951710877947291277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5951710877947291277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/01/first-date.html' title='The first date.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4962667303600564691</id><published>2011-01-13T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T18:53:08.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What season is it?</title><content type='html'>So in my apartment complex they have signs put up on the light posts that surround the complex and the signs say the seasons, like "summer" "fall" and "winter." What's the deal with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the 2 feet of snow on the ground that tells us it's winter, it's the signs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4962667303600564691?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4962667303600564691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4962667303600564691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4962667303600564691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4962667303600564691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-season-is-it.html' title='What season is it?'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3526970317110506843</id><published>2010-12-31T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T08:54:20.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snoopy,</title><content type='html'>is the baking soda of comic strips. Ooo, look at me, I can do this, I can do that. I can cook, coach ice skating, sew a costume, sing, dance. If he's such an expert on everything why doesn't he help Charlie Brown kick the football at least once?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3526970317110506843?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3526970317110506843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3526970317110506843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3526970317110506843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3526970317110506843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/12/snoopy.html' title='Snoopy,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2549419004812692243</id><published>2010-12-08T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T18:06:46.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My cat,</title><content type='html'>is cute and beautiful and gives cute kisses, and even has a sweet voice when she's not talking my ear off. But it's really hard to find her cute when she wants to hog the entire frickin couch. So when I get home after a hard day and want to eat dinner on my couch in front of the tv, she gets nudged off, end of story. Hey, I pay the bills and clean up after myself, does she? Plus she got to sit on the entire couch all frickin day. If I were living with a human being I'd ask them nicely if I could have alone couch time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's not my fault she speaks cat and not English.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2549419004812692243?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2549419004812692243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2549419004812692243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2549419004812692243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2549419004812692243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-cat.html' title='My cat,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-960702078787709002</id><published>2010-12-06T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T18:02:57.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imperfections</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite parts of the Seinfeld show is how the four of them break up with people over silly little reasons. It's hilarious to see all those clips put together in the show's finale:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a re-gifter!&lt;br /&gt;She's a two-face.&lt;br /&gt;She's bald.&lt;br /&gt;He's poor.&lt;br /&gt;He's a close talker.&lt;br /&gt;He's a high talker.&lt;br /&gt;She can't hear very well out of her left ear.&lt;br /&gt;She eats her peas one at a time!&lt;br /&gt;She's too tall.&lt;br /&gt;She's too good.&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't my type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other reasons they break up with people include not eating pie, not offering pie, not keeping a bathtub clean, and not using an exclamation point in a sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hilarious. Well I've got one to add to the list: drinking soda out of a coffee cup. WHY???? Why would anyone do this? He was over at my house and didn't want to drink his soda out of the can so I told him he could help himself to a glass in the cupboard. WHAT does he take out? A coffee cup! There were LOTS of glasses to choose from! (shakes head in confused disgust)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my defense, I already knew I wasn't that into him before that incident. It just happened to be that after that incident I broke up with him. So perhaps unlike the chumps on the show, I'm not a total lost cause.  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-960702078787709002?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/960702078787709002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=960702078787709002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/960702078787709002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/960702078787709002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/12/imperfections.html' title='Imperfections'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7732991687996565904</id><published>2010-07-04T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T05:35:16.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the world needs.</title><content type='html'>You know that song, "What the world needs now is love sweet love"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I think that what the world really needs is more parking spaces. And I think it needs more parking spaces more than it needs more love. Cuz think about it, with more parking spaces it'd be easier to tolerate others more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tolerance of each other is needed before we can love each other. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7732991687996565904?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7732991687996565904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7732991687996565904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7732991687996565904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7732991687996565904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-world-needs.html' title='What the world needs.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7703135062862540112</id><published>2010-06-06T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T10:16:45.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The purse</title><content type='html'>I think the dilemma of the purse is a timeless one. I don't forsee a solution. It'll always be problematic, like clogged toilets or the socks that get lost in the dryer. I mean, it needs to be big enough so you can carry everything, but not so big so that you're not lugging a suitcase. It needs to allow you to have easy access to things without being so big that you have to dig around to get a hold of your keys. So it needs lots of compartments, but need not look like a briefcase. The strap needs to be long enough so that you can access your wallet at the cashier without taking the purse off your shoulder, but not so long that the purse is hanging by your knees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And living in the frickin desert makes it worse. Gotta have your water bottle and lotion cuz it's so ridiculously dry and hot. In which case, to fit everything, you pretty much need to carry a backpack around with you. I have a backpack purse, but that doesn't solve the problem of having to take it off your shoulders at the cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new purse as a gift from a friend last weekend which seems to be workin' so far, or so it would seem (side note: the nice thing about being Asian is you get gifts from other Asians all the time for no reason :) ). I can fit in it my palm pilot, phone, wallet, chapstick, kleenex, pen, grocery list, small tube of lotion, sunglasses, and I can hook my keys on the side. cool huh? It is deep and has a lot of volume but doesn't look huge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like I said, so it would *seem.* It can't hold a water bottle. Or a book (at least not such that I don't have to take the book out to get to other things). And of course to be green I combine all my errands into one trip, hence the water and book are really needed. (And of course I won't come back home after each errand to sip some water and read and grab something I need for the next errand). So what do I do? Leave my book at one of my appointments. Thankfully it's not due back at the library soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's 2010 and we don't yet have a way to shrink all these things so that they fit in our pockets, and then when we need them we somehow, you know, UNshrink them. Like some sorta laser beam-thingy built into our forefingers. I mean we have nanotechnologies don't we? And we can put a man on the moon but still have to deal with traffic, plumbing problems, a 28-hour journey to India, and cats vomiting on the carpet. How have we progressed? But we can break up with someone over texting cuz we're too chicken to talk to them directly. *That* we can do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7703135062862540112?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7703135062862540112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7703135062862540112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7703135062862540112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7703135062862540112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/06/purse.html' title='The purse'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2103210699487001711</id><published>2010-05-02T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T20:40:11.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blood</title><content type='html'>Conversations with folks involving blood, in some form, have always kinda made me snicker. Like once I had casually wondered out loud how a pain killer works, and my cousin's husband said "well, it thins the blood." (Actually, I'd heard that many times before.) Well, what the hell does that mean? Thins the blood? How does that answer my question? What does thinning the blood have to do with getting rid of the pain? I bet a lot of folks probably don't ask this question, they just nod along knowingly probably cuz they think they *should* know what that explanation means: "Oh yes, of course, it thins the blood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had also gotten into a conversation with one of my cousins about what happens in the body after eating that leads us to feel colder than before we ate. I said that perhaps it's the digestive process creating more energy in the body, causing the heat in our bodies to go up, leading us to feel colder. Kinda like how you feel cold when you have a fever, probably due to the contrasting temperatures between inside and outside the body. But my cousin's response was, "No silly, it's cuz all the blood goes to your stomach for digestion." I've heard that explanation quite a bit too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well yes, of course, all the blood goes to your stomach. I mean everyone understands that's why you feel cold. So if I cut my arm after eating, no blood would come out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I could research these topics if I'm really interested in the details of these physiological processes. But I'd rather gripe, and have a blog post about it. Naturally. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2103210699487001711?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2103210699487001711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2103210699487001711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2103210699487001711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2103210699487001711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/05/blood.html' title='Blood'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-693641442976313961</id><published>2010-04-27T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T18:47:37.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Instructions</title><content type='html'>Isn't it funny how recipes often give such special instructions? Like my pina colada mix recipe ends with "garnish glass with an orange and pineapple slice." Not just an orange slice, or just a pineapple slice, or no slice at all, or strawberry slice, but both an orange and pineapple slice. I mean the audacity to be so specific! They don't even say "garnish with a paper umbrella and/or your favorite fruit." I mean, who reads or edits these? Who has the final word on how a pina colada should be garnished?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well in therapy it's certainly not ethnical to give specific advice, and certainly not if it's not presented as just one of many possibilities. I suppose as a client walks out the door I can pat them on the back and say "take the day off tomorrow, you deserve it." But I can't say "do as I say, not as I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha ha ha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-693641442976313961?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/693641442976313961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=693641442976313961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/693641442976313961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/693641442976313961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/04/instructions.html' title='Instructions'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2426576758502042827</id><published>2010-03-10T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:38:59.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays</title><content type='html'>It seems a bit funny to me that we celebrate our birthdays. The one day in the year that we expect to be all about us, despite all the other chances we have to get things from loved ones like Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking to myself yesterday, "Self, why do you expect your birthday to be about you?" It's like, we want to get credit for being born? Why do we get credit for that? It's our parents who had sex, moms who got knocked up and parents who dealt with us being terrors as toddlers. Further, it's the moms that did the work on this day, work that seemed like what was pushing a watermelon out of a hole the size of a pea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, parents, the flawless travel agents of guilt trips. So I've figured it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should buy our mothers presents on our own birthdays, and yell at our grandparents on our parents' birthdays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2426576758502042827?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2426576758502042827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2426576758502042827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2426576758502042827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2426576758502042827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/03/birthdays.html' title='Birthdays'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3581190043657137158</id><published>2010-02-20T09:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T20:56:39.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 ways you know that your psychology grad program has taken over your life.</title><content type='html'>10) You unload the dishwasher as a break from work.&lt;br /&gt;9) When reading food labels, you look for p&lt;.05.&lt;br /&gt;8) You automatically ask your friends how they feel.&lt;br /&gt;7) You process every interpersonal interaction.&lt;br /&gt;6) You overuse the word process.&lt;br /&gt;5) You conceptualize every character when watching a movie.&lt;br /&gt;4) You soil yourself during your dissertation proposal defense.&lt;br /&gt;3) You feel like punching the next person who asks you how your dissertation is coming along.&lt;br /&gt;2) You feel like killing the next person who asks you when you're going to graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;drumroll...&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) You're convinced your advisor is responsible for the middle east conflict.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3581190043657137158?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3581190043657137158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3581190043657137158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3581190043657137158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3581190043657137158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/02/top-10-ways-you-know-that-your.html' title='Top 10 ways you know that your psychology grad program has taken over your life.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8856762945196877623</id><published>2010-02-12T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T07:50:26.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family members,</title><content type='html'>are like allergies. You can't completely get rid of them. You can only manage them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And cuss them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they still come back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8856762945196877623?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8856762945196877623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8856762945196877623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8856762945196877623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8856762945196877623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/02/family-members.html' title='Family members,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4579252870015589724</id><published>2010-01-31T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T09:16:33.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Med names</title><content type='html'>As a BHT I often assist clients with their meds, and med education is a part of that process, so that clients know what, how much and why they are taking their meds. This got me and a coworker talking about how long, unpronounceable and forgettable the names are, particularly when there is a constant switch back and forth between brand names and generic names. If WE can't keep them straight, how the hell would underfunctioning clients keep them straight??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got to talking about how if the names were easier to remember, then clients would know what they're taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the Happy pill. Or Calm Me Down Pill. Or Poop pill. Or I Can't Feel Anything Pill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the med assist conversations that normally go like,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what pill is that that you're taking?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would instead be,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What pill are you taking?"&lt;br /&gt;"The Happy Pill So I Don't Blow Someone's Brains Out. I know what pill I'm taking."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4579252870015589724?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4579252870015589724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4579252870015589724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4579252870015589724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4579252870015589724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/med-names.html' title='Med names'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4107485682246522415</id><published>2010-01-31T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T09:10:42.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The belt</title><content type='html'>At what point did wearing a belt stop being the norm? There was a shift, I just don't remember when. We went from tucking our shirts in and wearing belts to no belts and leaving the shirts out. I think the latter looks better but silly me forgets that I could still wear a belt with my shirt out, to help keep my pants up. DUH. So at work the other day I was walking around like a dork cuz I kept having to pull up my pants!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4107485682246522415?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4107485682246522415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4107485682246522415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4107485682246522415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4107485682246522415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/belt.html' title='The belt'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4579177920766019721</id><published>2010-01-31T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T08:55:49.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mouthwash</title><content type='html'>I try to buy different flavors of mouthwash each time, to give myself variety. Plus someone had told me that if you vary your tooth products, then it has a greater impact on cleaning your teeth. I guess you're teeth stop responding as much to the same product, much the same way that your body stops responding to the same antihistamine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so when I'm at the store I'm thinking, "Shoot, which is the one I have at home, green or blue?" The last 3 times I thought I had green and ended up buying blue again! Why I'm not this OCD about my toothpaste is beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how annoying that is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Imagine crazy Joe Devola saying that.)  lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4579177920766019721?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4579177920766019721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4579177920766019721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4579177920766019721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4579177920766019721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/mouthwash.html' title='Mouthwash'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7923855477574861160</id><published>2010-01-27T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T07:52:50.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Necessity,</title><content type='html'>is the mother of invention? Um, sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuz we would absolutely DIE without the MP3 player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems more like capitalism is the mother of invention to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, better be careful for lightening might strike me for being a socialist. Like all those crazy-assed Europeans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7923855477574861160?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7923855477574861160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7923855477574861160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7923855477574861160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7923855477574861160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/necessity.html' title='Necessity,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7783866378514989676</id><published>2010-01-24T08:50:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T20:34:20.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Security</title><content type='html'>Online security has become about as pathetic as airport security. Every 2 seconds I am asked to sign back into my email account. &lt;em&gt;Um, can you see me Mr. Computer? It's still me, Margaret. &lt;/em&gt;Hence the system works more against us than for us. I mean there is a point of diminishing returns where you make the system so overprotective it's not really functional anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, we must look really pathetic to Al Qaeda as they watch us on the news. Because SURELY they haven't thought of us thinking of body scanners once one of their men gets caught with a bomb in his underwear. I doubt they're thinking, "I'm going to do it the EXACT same way next time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what do the CIA and FBI do then exactly? At what point are they going to realize, "Oooooooohhhhhhh, we want to stay one step AHEAD of the criminals! Oooohhh!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7783866378514989676?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7783866378514989676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7783866378514989676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7783866378514989676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7783866378514989676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/security.html' title='Security'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-18610317988491413</id><published>2010-01-05T12:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T10:01:24.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Industrial engineers</title><content type='html'>Industrial engineers or ergonomists have gotten a bad rap for not being "real" engineers. Yet there are so many things that seem to be common sense but they obviously are not because they are conducted in an idiotic manner. Well now steps in the industrial engineer with a couple scientific principles and her critique:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The toilet paper needs to be reachable from the TOILET.&lt;/em&gt; Not from the SINK. I want to know what architects or building designers or whatever are thinking. I'm staying with a friend and in her bathroom, the toilet paper is like a mile away from the toilet! I'd like to be able to easily REACH the toilet paper but hey, that's just me. Unless it was some NBA player who tested the distance and his 4 feet arms could reach it. But oooohhhhh, the little short peon doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you get coffee, you pick up the cup, pour the coffee, add the cream and sweetner, then attach the lid.&lt;/em&gt; However at the Texaco here, I poured my coffee and then see that the creamer is at a *different* counter. And the sweetner? You guessed it, a different counter than that! And the lid, well, I couldn't reach it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to buy my own state and use my Empress powers and engineering knowledge to make things more convenient for short people only in that state. Tall people: you've had your way for TOOOOO long!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-18610317988491413?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/18610317988491413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=18610317988491413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/18610317988491413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/18610317988491413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2010/01/industrial-engineers.html' title='Industrial engineers'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7539204908460956454</id><published>2009-12-21T08:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T08:49:47.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All the roads,</title><content type='html'>lead to a Starbucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7539204908460956454?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7539204908460956454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7539204908460956454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7539204908460956454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7539204908460956454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/12/all-roads.html' title='All the roads,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6121229928845649528</id><published>2009-12-08T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T20:19:30.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Facebook is like the on-line version of a high school reunion. You know, suddenly all these folks you haven't seen or spoken to in like decades have a ton of things to say to you, of which a tiny few are mildly interesting. But the ones that you mostly "talk" and "banter" with are the ones that you see more often in real life anyway! They're like your guests that you drag to the reunion so that you have someone to talk to while you're there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Course there are two main differences. High school reunions happen every 10 years whereas you can never leave FB if you wanted to. Though you can ignore certain comments and chat invitations and those folks never know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll carry a little sign with me that says "offline" to tape to my forehead if a party I'm at turns bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6121229928845649528?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6121229928845649528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6121229928845649528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6121229928845649528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6121229928845649528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/12/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1269247831867846811</id><published>2009-12-02T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T05:55:30.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People watching</title><content type='html'>Seinfeld was so right when he said, "Humans love to watch other humans." So true...I mean perhaps we'd be a bit more content if we stopped comparing ourselves to others and focused on being better people in general. I dunno, JUST an idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the part that is most funny to me is how we are so into the lives of celebrities. Perhaps if we spent just half that time trying to enhance our own lives we'd also be more content. I dunno, JUST an idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's even funnier to me is that we get offended when those close to us give us "negative" feedback and we consider that as them "judging" us. But these are people who know us the most and have the information to actually be able to judge, and yet we feel we can judge celebrities when we know even LESS about them! Like when my mom says to me, "I'm worried about you." I think "WTF?? Why are you worried about me? What reasons could I have given you to WORRY about me? Haven't you seen I've taken care of myself all these years? YOU don't know anything about me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the same people who would have that type of reaction to family or friends say things like, "Michael Jackson is such a freak" (and like Lady Gaga's not? That's another story...) or "Andre Agassi does drugs!!!" Um, yeah, like all the other people who make up a huge percentage of the population that does-newsflash: he's not God. "Michael Jackson's not really black!" Well, just like white folks aren't white anymore when they choose to bake in the sun despite the skin cancer. "Michael Jackson looks weird with all those plastic surgeries." Don't get me started on the number of people who could do without boob jobs and excessive makeup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't have personal contact with these celebrities or know what they've truly been through! I mean I can understand a "judgment" regarding hurting another person, but I think we could stand for a bit more compassion when people do things to harm themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the *types* of news our society finds interesting these days is weak and pathetic, but it's interesting just cuz they're celebrities. But I bet I can at least *match* the excitement of some of the celebrity experiences:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tiger Woods got into a car accident!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, Felda got 3 tickets for running a red light, and you have to go through *separate* traffic school for that offense, each time. The second time, a MONTH later, I had the SAME instructor. Not only that, he recognized me-you can imagine my embarrassment.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Howard Dean gave his wife a PLANT for her birthday! (k, so that's an old example)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well if I had a dime for each time I got CANDY as a gift from a secret santa, well, I'd have like, $2.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Jennifer Aniston is single again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If we have a couple years, I could explain to you the level of pathetic-ness of the guys I've dated in my lifetime that led me to break up with them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;TMZ &lt;/em&gt;needs to have a Felda segment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1269247831867846811?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1269247831867846811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1269247831867846811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1269247831867846811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1269247831867846811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/12/people-watching.html' title='People watching'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2756776519338425659</id><published>2009-11-06T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T18:51:53.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Internal medicine</title><content type='html'>The branch of medicine called "internal medicine" is kinda funny isn't it? I mean let's say we ask a doctor, "Are you a surgeon?" and she says, "No, I practice internal medicine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so surgeons don't work internally? They can't be working *externally.* Well I suppose with a laser some surgeries are possible like that, but what are they practicing when they have their hands in someone's guts? Can you really get any more internal than that???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2756776519338425659?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2756776519338425659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2756776519338425659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2756776519338425659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2756776519338425659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/11/internal-medicine.html' title='Internal medicine'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2076384067943725880</id><published>2009-11-01T14:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T14:40:47.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saints</title><content type='html'>You know, when I state that I'm Lakshmi incarnate and that people should turn to me for their answers, I just get laughed at. Hmph..but did Krishna or Christ get laughed at?? Noooooooo! Well yes, Christ did have something worse happen to him for sure. But my point is, people believed they have the answers, even though they lived 2000 years ago and folks never got to really know what they preached! But you get to know right NOW what *I* say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I suppose my Seinfeld and caffeine addiction dilutes my saintliness. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2076384067943725880?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2076384067943725880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2076384067943725880' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2076384067943725880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2076384067943725880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/11/saints.html' title='Saints'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2624139338309056130</id><published>2009-10-30T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T18:02:44.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomatoes</title><content type='html'>Why would anyone put tomatoes as a topping on pizza? Cuz the pizza already has tomato sauce. So what do the tomatoes add? Wouldn't you want something w/ totally different flavor, like mushrooms (yuuuum) or olives (double yuumm)? Unless it has pesto sauce, then the tomatoes make sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2624139338309056130?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2624139338309056130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2624139338309056130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2624139338309056130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2624139338309056130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/10/tomatoes.html' title='Tomatoes'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2863857111553263083</id><published>2009-10-29T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T19:51:25.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potato chips</title><content type='html'>What is the deal with baked potato chips??? Um, excuse me but chips are supposed to be greesy. It's like hard cookies or that crap low sugar chocolate. I can't imagine people choose those options so why do they keep making them? I mean, if you want chips, eat CHIPS. Just eat fewer of them if they're greesy. Cuz with the baked ones, you just eat a bunch that taste horrible, so you've added more calories to your day with stuff that doesn't even taste good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2863857111553263083?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2863857111553263083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2863857111553263083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2863857111553263083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2863857111553263083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/10/potato-chips.html' title='Potato chips'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6064495799719622375</id><published>2009-10-20T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T06:57:58.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Audience members</title><content type='html'>So remember how Seinfeld and his girlfriend make-out in the movie theatre when they are watching Schindler's List? And hilarious how his parents ask him, "You were making out during Schindler's List?????" That would be like me making out or sleeping during Slumdog Millionaire, The Namesake, City of Joy, or Gandhi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now get this: in one of my theatre showings of The Laramie Project, there was a guy in the FRONT row who was part of a GAY couple and he fell asleep! Um, hello!!! And so much so that we could hear him snoring! Sheesh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How funny would it be if he had *heterosexual* parents who asked him, "You fell ASLEEP during The Laramie Project???"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6064495799719622375?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6064495799719622375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6064495799719622375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6064495799719622375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6064495799719622375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/10/audience-members.html' title='Audience members'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1107354127887233139</id><published>2009-10-17T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T11:08:15.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Toilets 2</title><content type='html'>So how late are the stores open? I'm thinking of buying a new toilet and smashing it over my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1107354127887233139?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1107354127887233139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1107354127887233139' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1107354127887233139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1107354127887233139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/10/toilets-2.html' title='Toilets 2'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7797819500005992506</id><published>2009-10-15T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T22:16:34.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thongs</title><content type='html'>So, now, correct me if I'm wrong (and just a heads-up, I never am) but isn't the point of wearing a thong that there is no panty line when you wear something that would show a panty line? Jeans normally do not reveal panty lines, yes? Nevertheless, I have the priviledge of working with a woman in a play who even when she wears jeans, wears thongs. And how do I know this? I see her change in the dressing room and she changes from her costume back into her street clothes that are jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now why does this bother me you ask? Like, why should I care if someone else chooses to be uncomfortable for no reason? Because I have to sit *behind* her in the play! And we wear jeans in the play. And half her butt comes out the top of her jeans when she's sitting and as she's getting up. Grrrr....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it'd kinda become this obsession where I always want to know what kind of underwear she's wearing cuz it's frickin annoying to think that a person would ALWAYS wear a thong, even if they don't have to! I have a few sitting in my drawer and a part of me avoids wearing the clothes that "need" them cuz they're so ridiculously uncomfortable! Yeah, kinda like Seinfeld who encouraged this one woman to break up with him in person just so he could see if she was wearing the same outfit again---lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, does my obsession with this girl's underwear *technically* make me a lesbian?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7797819500005992506?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7797819500005992506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7797819500005992506' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7797819500005992506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7797819500005992506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/10/thongs.html' title='Thongs'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5698535027963297255</id><published>2009-09-27T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T22:51:19.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pluto</title><content type='html'>Interesting how scientific findings over time change our reality of the world isn't it? I still often forget that Pluto is now a moon instead of a planet. But it was always a planet when I was a kid! Now I have to see it as a moon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be a funny way to break up with someone. "At first I saw you as promising, now I just see you as an idiot." Okay, so not everyone has my sense of humor. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I'm ever a grandparent, given that I lived in the desert most of my life I probably won't be able to get it past my grandkids that I had to walk 10 miles uphill everday in the snow to get to school. But I COULD say, "When I was your age, Pluto was a planet!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5698535027963297255?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5698535027963297255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5698535027963297255' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5698535027963297255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5698535027963297255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/09/pluto.html' title='Pluto'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8090513050862663884</id><published>2009-09-05T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T20:54:46.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Profanity</title><content type='html'>The thing I don't get is why we try to be so careful about not swearing in front of children. Oh yeah, trying to be good role models, yada yada yada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But think about it, if many of us swear as adults anyway, then isn't avoiding to do so in the presence of children just postponing the inevitable? Like medicine? Or marriage. Ha ha, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't recall my parents swearing much when I was a child (not in English anyway) yet I swear like the worst of the sailors. Catch me during an allergy attack and I'm dropping the F-bomb every second and cursing God, her mother, and every useless life form she's put on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the f-bomb is not okay in PG-13 movies but physical fights between children is? Anything wrong with this picture? Aren't there worse things in this world compared to profanity? Oh, forgive me for wearing glasses that give me the slightest bit of realism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, if you rather I punch someone in the nose rather than tell them to fuck off, I'll happily do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8090513050862663884?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8090513050862663884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8090513050862663884' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8090513050862663884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8090513050862663884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/09/profanity.html' title='Profanity'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8153123368516220833</id><published>2009-08-31T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T21:25:18.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The blue dot.</title><content type='html'>It is amazing how Murphy's law works even with the relatively insignificant parts of our lives. It rains the day after you wash your car. You get caught in a traffic jam due to a crash when you were already running late. And of course you spill something that stains your favorite piece of clothing while wearing it for the first time after you JUST washed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last one happened to me today at work. I wore one of my favorite pants for the first time after they were washed, and got ink on them. Frickin fraggit! So I spent some time putting soap and water on the stain and scrubbing in-between work tasks. Thankfully I got most of it out. But there's this little blue dot now. Yes, blue dot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elaine had the red dot on her sweater.  I've got the blue dot on my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I won't tell those of you who know me so that you're not searching for it next time I wear pants! Particularly, stares in the crotch or buttocks area shall win one much wrath from the Empress herself (unless you're Jerry Seinfeld or Jason Mraz ;)  ).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8153123368516220833?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8153123368516220833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8153123368516220833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8153123368516220833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8153123368516220833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/blue-dot.html' title='The blue dot.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5406272864754049965</id><published>2009-08-24T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T22:49:53.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The date.</title><content type='html'>Oh boy oh boy. My mother just may have been right (don't tell her I said that), that being a Seinfeld addict has turned my life into a Seinfeld episode. Well, at least tonight's date involved snippets of various episodes. At times I was George, other times Jerry, and sometimes I was thinking things that George would be saying to himself on the show. Only if you are as much of a Seinfeld nutcase as me would you recognize what episodes these moments are in, and I'm not about to recount those details from the show if you are not. Sorry (not).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I met a guy for a date at a coffee shop (that is SO the cliche place for first dates!). I get there before him and I have to poo (I usually have to poo at the beginning of dates, when I'm nervous). I go to the bathroom and see that it's locked and you have to show your receipt to get the key to be able to use it. But I hadn't bought anything yet and thought it would be rude to do so before he showed up. So I just sit there. It wasn't a strong urge to poo, but just felt that if I went then, I'd be more comfortable during the date. And if it were a strong urge, I would've just asked in a frantic hurry. Then I thought to myself that she would believe me if I told her I would be buying something, but I just need to use the bathroom right away. But as I thought that, he showed up. We then got to talking and I forgot about pooing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went away. Seriously-the poo. It went away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the awkward thought: "Should I pay for my own drink, or would that insult him because he asked me out and so he was planning to pay?" Usually unless it's somehow clear with "I'd like to take you out for coffee" or whatever, I assume that I should pay for myself. But idiot me decides to go through my regular meticulous decision-making process on what to order, and so I worried that he'd think it was some passive-aggressive way of forcing him to pay. But I'm SERIOUS it was not! My plan was to go up to the counter first and just pay for my drink and then let him do his thing. But he made his decision on what he wanted much faster than me and ordered first, then waited for me to order and paid it as one order. And like a moron I take out my wallet. If he had handed her a credit card I probably would've given her cash for my portion, but his cash covered it and I think it would be awkward and insulting to give him cash for my drink. So then I worry, "Did he think I was just going through the motions to make it look like I had intention to pay when I really didn't?" NO! Of course I could've said "I can pay for my drink" in a nonchalant way but didn't want to do that either cuz I didn't want the fact that we were on an awkward first date to be even more obvious to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moron then just put her wallet back in her purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to terms with it cuz it was just coffee and therefore not a big deal. Though at one point I thought that what I ordered did cost more than his drink. You know with my fru fru drinks and all, when all he gets is black coffee. But it's like an extra buck so yes, I did get over it and not stress during the rest of the date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there were the typical awkward moments of just looking at each other at times feeling all shy and nervous and not knowing what to say. So during those moments I find myself saying things that are not very normal responses. Like he says, "You look cute." "Thanks, so what time do you have to be at work tomorrow?" Then he started saying something that I didn't really hear because I suddenly realized and thought, "Shit! I didn't order decaf. Now I'm gonna be up tonight and I have a 7:30 class in the morning! That's just fucking fantastic." Wonder what he thought I was thinking when he saw my face at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home I pooed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5406272864754049965?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5406272864754049965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5406272864754049965' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5406272864754049965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5406272864754049965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/date.html' title='The date.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4838013402121110999</id><published>2009-08-19T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T06:15:24.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acting</title><content type='html'>So I was talking with a woman on the train the other day and she was saying how much she likes Jennifer Aniston. So I asked her if she's seen the movie "Derailed." "Yeah, but I didn't like her character. I like her better as the cute girl on 'Friends'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, okay. Does she realize she's an ACTOR and her job is to portray her character in the movie as authentically as possible? Otherwise how is it acting if they play the same type of person all the time? Doesn't it speak more to an actor's talent and ability if they can play a variety of roles? A nice person, asshole, villain? Newsflash folks: assholes do exist. Life isn't all bunnies and rainbows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I don't get, when people will say they "didn't like how much of a jerk she or he was being in that." But that's their job! If they did a good job portraying an asshole, they did it well! You realize that's not how they probably are in real life right? They're ACTORS. It's often the writer's or director's goal to portray a particular story, or message about life, a caricature about the human condition, or simply bring an idea to the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, if you want to watch something ordinary and predictable where people are pretending to like each other all the time, don't you already have YOUR LIFE for that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4838013402121110999?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4838013402121110999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4838013402121110999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4838013402121110999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4838013402121110999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/acting.html' title='Acting'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8993663066058050668</id><published>2009-08-14T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T16:16:43.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rings</title><content type='html'>So someone the other day asked me if the ring I was wearing was my engagement ring. Um, no, I said, thoroughly confused since it was not a single diamond ring nor was it on my left hand. But the person proceeded to tell me that engagement rings are worn on the right hand and after the wedding ceremony, they are moved to the left hand. I cannot tell you HOW annoyed and confused I felt by this, cuz up until this point I thought that "engagement rings" were single diamonds and are worn on the left hand. Plus back in college, I had worn an Indian ring on my right hand, and someone had told me that I shouldn't wear it cuz it is a wedding band (granted it did look like what Westerners would wear as a wedding band). But I thought that if it was on my right hand, then people wouldn't think it was a wedding band, that it's just a ring and I'm not married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't matter what I do, people get the wrong impression!!!! Now a person cannot deck her body with whatever fucking ornament she wants without it meaning anything??? Can't it just be jewelry? Rings don't mean anything anymore anyway given that many devoted spouses don't wear rings, and some that flaunt huge rocks or bands are having affairs. So why the hell does it matter what I wear? Especially to someone who &lt;em&gt;knows&lt;/em&gt; I'm not in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll respond with, "You obviously have no life if you're noticing something like this." Or better yet, "No, doesn't mean I'm married. Matter of fact, means I'm a radically liberal femininazi who believes in killing babies for the fun of it." Now that'll change the meaning of some fashion choices, won't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8993663066058050668?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8993663066058050668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8993663066058050668' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8993663066058050668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8993663066058050668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/rings.html' title='Rings'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5400024683754750884</id><published>2009-08-10T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:02:11.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The misc. grocery run.</title><content type='html'>You know what that is. That one trip in the week where you have to buy a bunch of random things cuz you forgot them during your regular weekly trip to the grocery store. I hate not getting everything in that one trip and having to go back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though the list for the trip back is pretty funny, with totally random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Carrots&lt;br /&gt;-Fabric softener&lt;br /&gt;-Raid spray&lt;br /&gt;-Shredded cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a Fry's VIP card so I usually go there for most stuff. Once I had a misc grocery run with no food items, and the cashier said to me, "You don't have any food here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh, so I guess it's not approoooopriate to go to the grocery store unless you're buying a FOOD item! I wanted to say to her, "Like YOU'VE never done that? Can you just check me out and let me be on my way so that I can talk to my friends about you? Thanks."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5400024683754750884?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5400024683754750884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5400024683754750884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5400024683754750884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5400024683754750884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/misc-grocery-run.html' title='The misc. grocery run.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1749932699622423194</id><published>2009-08-09T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T10:41:48.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The convertible</title><content type='html'>Is it just me, or does anyone else look at a convertible car and feel like the word "convertible" is an over-statement for it? I mean, yes, it converts from having a top to no top, but when I think of the word *convert* I feel like it should turn into something totally different than a car. Like a private jet. Or a little personal movie theatre. Or a space shuttle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to meet an alien in outer space. Somehow they sometimes seem like they'd be more interesting than humans...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1749932699622423194?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1749932699622423194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1749932699622423194' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1749932699622423194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1749932699622423194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/convertible.html' title='The convertible'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3594128691254300764</id><published>2009-08-04T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T08:54:28.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all good.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that people say "it's all good" when it's not all good? I mean yes, it IS for all intents and purposes good, but it's not like the situation is truly ALL GOOD. Like when someone says to me, "Sorry I was late Felda" and I say "It's all good," but why? Cuz it's not the end of the world that the person was late? Cuz I'm still alive? But doesn't it make sense to say it in a situation where it's truly *all good* like a fun dinner party or at the beach? Next time I'm at the beach with beautiful sunshine, blue skies and seas, and cute surfers, then I'll say "Ah yeeeeah, it's All GOOD."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3594128691254300764?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3594128691254300764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3594128691254300764' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3594128691254300764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3594128691254300764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-all-good.html' title='It&apos;s all good.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8595104210004194481</id><published>2009-07-31T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T08:45:27.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Innovations in Pizza</title><content type='html'>So now, you know that we have hit the bottom of the barrel with interesting changes to pizza when all Pizza Hut can come up with is the pizza with the no edge crust. Well it kinda makes sense, I mean we probably have all the innovations to pizza that are possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at toppings for example. There's all kinds of meat, veggies, pineapple, anchovies (ick)....&lt;br /&gt;Look at the crust: you have thin, thick, hand-tossed, stuffed crust, gluten-free...&lt;br /&gt;Look at cheese: soy, low-fat, whole-milk...&lt;br /&gt;Look at sauce: marinara, pesto, white...&lt;br /&gt;We've even cut it into squares as well as triangles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, so what else CAN they do with pizza? So we're left with the stupid no-crust pizza. And why do that at all? No special innovations to toilet paper can be made so we left that alone, right? So now, these restaurants need to leave pizza alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pizza without crust is as good as pizza cut into squares: it's not easy to hold. So leave it ALONE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8595104210004194481?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8595104210004194481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8595104210004194481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8595104210004194481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8595104210004194481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/07/innovations-in-pizza.html' title='Innovations in Pizza'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2232734065486594844</id><published>2009-07-29T08:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T08:51:18.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiramisu</title><content type='html'>So like, what's the deal with Tiramisu? Is it cake, is it custard, what the hell is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2232734065486594844?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2232734065486594844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2232734065486594844' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2232734065486594844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2232734065486594844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/07/tiramisu.html' title='Tiramisu'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1534866866649608701</id><published>2009-07-17T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T13:09:59.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm just gonna say this one time (ah, who am I kiddin, I'll be bitchin about it for as long as I live): how can we put a man on the moon and yet so many people don't know what the definition of "irony" is??? K, I'm gonna throw out some other words that people actually mean when they say "ironic:"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidental, paradoxical, hypocritical, contradictory, fittingly, or simply *unexpected.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick one, k? Pleeeeeeaaaaase pick ANY other one other than ironic cuz you probably don't mean ironic. I don't care if the other one you pick is also wrong, I'm just tired of hearing "ironic." Writers should not even write good irony anymore if people can't recognize it. And we can watch What the Bleep do We Know? and discuss quantum physics, but don't get common vocabulary?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1534866866649608701?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1534866866649608701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1534866866649608701' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1534866866649608701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1534866866649608701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/07/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7833011982302726768</id><published>2009-07-12T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T14:19:54.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Capitalism</title><content type='html'>Now you gotta admire the audacity of capitalism, don't ya? Even in this economic crisis, you've got those morons outside the grocery trying to sell you portraits. Um yeah, of all the things I could purchase, the one thing I REALLY need is a picture of my non-photogenic self. And the stupid way they make you pose too: K, now point your knees to the left, face the right, tilt your head to the left, and look to your right. Now smile and say cheese! What the fuck is all that???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or you've got those plastics at the mall tryin' to sell ya a $15, 8 oz, bottle of lotion. "Hello! Can I help ya with anything?" And as soon as they see your gaze in the direction of a particular product: "Oh, you can buy 2 of those and get the 3rd free!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if these idiots buy their own products. I wanna say, "Why don't YOU buy 2 and get the 3rd for free????" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Imagine that with the voice.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7833011982302726768?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7833011982302726768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7833011982302726768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7833011982302726768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7833011982302726768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/07/capitalism.html' title='Capitalism'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2543542362084989316</id><published>2009-07-12T10:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T14:11:44.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Numbers</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how in movies, when the characters give someone their numbers, the beginning of the phone numbers always start with 555? I mean can the writers come up with ANY other number combinations? I can come up with a few off the top of my head right now: 785, 937, 864, 232. See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did that fast cuz I used my number pad on my keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some more:  852, 742, 242, 987.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2543542362084989316?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2543542362084989316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2543542362084989316' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2543542362084989316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2543542362084989316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/07/numbers.html' title='Numbers'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2439859103553334704</id><published>2009-06-24T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T07:45:15.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eyeballs</title><content type='html'>Okay, so you know those ads about "the money you could be saving with Geico"? I KNOW that it's supposed to be eyeballs on the money, but I'm sorry, they just look like two rolls of toilet paper to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean come on, if you're going to personify *money* anyway, then why not just go all out and put more eyeball-looking eyeballs on the darn thing! You know, with eye lids and eye lashes and all that. Otherwise what am I supposed to think it is if I don't hear the commercials?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, this is the money that would be like toilet paper to you since you'll be saving so much of it if you switch to Geiko.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2439859103553334704?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2439859103553334704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2439859103553334704' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2439859103553334704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2439859103553334704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/06/eyeballs.html' title='Eyeballs'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6562815929593332795</id><published>2009-06-20T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T17:44:11.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coordinator</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how the word "coordinator" is becoming more and more common in job titles? It's what gets thrown in there when the employer doesn't quite know what the person is going to be doing. "I'm a research coordinator. I uh, don't actually do the research, I uh, just, you know, coordinate it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, they coordinate their hands with the mouse in putting the emails from their inbox into their deleted folder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6562815929593332795?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6562815929593332795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6562815929593332795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6562815929593332795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6562815929593332795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/06/coordinator.html' title='Coordinator'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8631101325983012000</id><published>2009-06-20T17:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T17:41:07.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raffles</title><content type='html'>Another cliche is how we always say "I NEVER win anything!" Amazing how we forget what our odds are. Kinda like saying "I never get struck by lightening, or win the lottery, or run into Jerry Seinfeld on the street...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8631101325983012000?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8631101325983012000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8631101325983012000' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8631101325983012000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8631101325983012000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/06/raffles.html' title='Raffles'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6101127403995540580</id><published>2009-06-17T18:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T10:24:25.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Political Issues</title><content type='html'>The thing I don't get is how abortion became such a political issue in our country. I mean I can understand how people see it as a moral and religious one, but trying to push for legislation on someone else's body based on one's own religious values is just futile and unfair, isn't it? And it's not something that impacts everyone such that it needs a law, unlike healthcare, the stock market, or traffic laws. Kinda like: "A woman HAS to go through with the pregnancy even though she doesn't feel ready to put her body through it!" And forget the fact that we have a growing population problem on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think it's important to eat oatmeal. It's good for your skin and helps lower cholesterol. So I think I'll try to introduce a bill in which everyone has to eat oatmeal everyday for breakfast. Think about it, it could reduce healthcare costs if everyone is healthier due to the oatmeal. "You MUST eat oatmeal for breakfast every day! I don't care that you don't like it and would rather have a muffin!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6101127403995540580?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6101127403995540580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6101127403995540580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6101127403995540580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6101127403995540580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/06/political-issues.html' title='Political Issues'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8813151437126596903</id><published>2009-06-03T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T07:43:43.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emerson</title><content type='html'>So Ralph Waldo Emerson said "To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah well Ralph obviously never came to the desert. Here, each moment has sneezing, itchy eyes, stuffy nose, sweat trickling down your neck, sweat trickling down your boobs, sweat trickling down your butt crack...and ALL of that happens at each moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8813151437126596903?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8813151437126596903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8813151437126596903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8813151437126596903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8813151437126596903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/06/emerson.html' title='Emerson'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2909390917040618093</id><published>2009-05-28T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T13:06:07.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce</title><content type='html'>I would think that the very possibility of divorce would keep people from getting married. Yet millions of people get married all the time. I mean sure, I can undertstand being in love and therefore wanting to get married, and I can imagine that divorce is hard. But there are some folks who get married and divorced like multiple times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't those folks just date all the time? Because if you're going to get divorced that many times, then in reality it's just dating relationships all the time that are breaking up, except they're more complicated: you now have to deal with the government being a part of the break-up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2909390917040618093?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2909390917040618093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2909390917040618093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2909390917040618093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2909390917040618093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/divorce.html' title='Divorce'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8147696786869739266</id><published>2009-05-23T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T16:29:23.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shampoo and conditioner</title><content type='html'>They now fall in the category of hot dugs and hot dog buns. I mean, how do I run out of conditioner well before the shampoo??? I still have about 3 washes of shampoo left in the current bottle, and have already made a very noticable dent in the new conditioner bottle. Just can't keep up with the conditioner!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8147696786869739266?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8147696786869739266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8147696786869739266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8147696786869739266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8147696786869739266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/shampoo-and-conditioner.html' title='Shampoo and conditioner'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5876591193498613360</id><published>2009-05-23T16:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T16:26:32.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love letters</title><content type='html'>I'm not talking about actual love letters per se. I'm talking about the fake compliments that we get in our society. "We had a very talented pool to choose from and our decision was hard. We wish you luck in your endeavors....." blah blah blah blah blah blah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once I'd like to see a casting director or potential employer have the balls to simply state the results without the foo foo language:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, you didn't get the job." End of fucking storry....or even&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your audition sucked balls and you're just not good enough for the show."  At least I can get a laugh out of a rejection letter like that....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5876591193498613360?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5876591193498613360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5876591193498613360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5876591193498613360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5876591193498613360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-letters.html' title='Love letters'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7249286516215879375</id><published>2009-05-19T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T18:18:02.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Split ends</title><content type='html'>You know how they say "stop and smell the roses sometimes"? Well I'd actually like to stop and pick at my split ends. I was at a red light earlier today and happened to find a good split end in my hair and just as I was about to take care of it, the light turned green. I mean, I get that we are in a go-go world and it's actually a good thing if traffic keeps moving but you know, sometimes that extra few seconds to take care of a split end wouldn't be such a bad thing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7249286516215879375?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7249286516215879375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7249286516215879375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7249286516215879375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7249286516215879375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/split-ends.html' title='Split ends'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1266167279400949150</id><published>2009-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:11:48.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little hair</title><content type='html'>So there's this little hair on my head. It's on my right temple and by lucky chance I might find it as I'm running my fingers through my hair. And why do I consider it to be a lucky chance? Because it has a very rough texture to it and so it's kinda fun to feel it. It's the most fun hair strand on my head. Of course getting a hold of it can be a challenge cuz of all the other hairs around it, so when I do get a secure hold of it, it's like "victory!" Then it feels good to feel it and when I'm ready, I break it. That's the one fun of feeling a rough hair strand, is the feeling of breaking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to wait another couple months before that piece of hair is back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will wait for you little hair!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1266167279400949150?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1266167279400949150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1266167279400949150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1266167279400949150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1266167279400949150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-hair.html' title='A little hair'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4755878432898070170</id><published>2009-05-04T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T06:38:47.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Margins</title><content type='html'>So what's the deal with the default right and left margins in MS Word being 1.25????? WHO would set their margins to that? Perhaps undergrads who want to make it look like they wrote a longer paper. It'd be interesting to see how much time we lose fixing such stupid things all the time. I mean, I don't go to the store and buy 1.25 pounds of tomatoes do I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4755878432898070170?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4755878432898070170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4755878432898070170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4755878432898070170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4755878432898070170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/05/margins.html' title='Margins'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1652817359167222607</id><published>2009-04-30T05:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T05:55:26.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The last word</title><content type='html'>Computers are kinda like health insurance, in our day-to-day lives. We need them, but they also cause a lot of grief and are often not very helpful. Like when an application freezes and I hit control-alt-delete to get to the task manager to try to end the program, THAT is when a message comes up saying "Word is not responding" and gives me the option to end it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naw, REALLY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not enough that we have people in our lives who have to have the last word, a useless piece of technology does too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1652817359167222607?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1652817359167222607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1652817359167222607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1652817359167222607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1652817359167222607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-word.html' title='The last word'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1562465206502464437</id><published>2009-04-19T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T15:36:46.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hangers</title><content type='html'>Of course we can't make things simple, oh no. The more complicated the better right, cuz that's how the man makes money? I mean, why can't we just keep the hangers that the clothes come on? Wouldn't that save the step of actually purchasing hangers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1562465206502464437?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1562465206502464437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1562465206502464437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1562465206502464437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1562465206502464437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/hangers.html' title='Hangers'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7338796991631709827</id><published>2009-04-18T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:12:33.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do I do?</title><content type='html'>It can be confusing to explain what I do being in a psych grad program. I have work, which is referred to as an "assistantship" with the college, so that I can get a paycheck, health insurance, tuition reimbursement. But the assistantship can be with any dept, even one not related to psych. And not only that, these days people aren't guaranteed the same job the entire time they're in the program, and sometimes people have to look for funding from one semester to the next. One year I was a desk assistant, another I was a research assistant. Another year I was teaching undergrads. I also have an internship where I get clinical experience, unpaid. But my program calls this a "fieldplacement." And before the fieldplacement we have a "practicum" that's at the counseling center on campus. And then we have a final year of pre-doc "internship" which is working full-time as a therapist before actually getting the degree. It's like the equivalent of a medical residency, except it happens before the degree is awarded. And of course we take our own classes, have research (thesis, dissertation)...it really &lt;em&gt;*&lt;/em&gt;all* feels like work cuz the classes become less didactic and more research-focused. Like now, I'm done with all my actual classes, so I'll just be taking dissertation credits to keep my full-time student status so I can defer having to pay back loans. So moving forward the focus will be on dissertation, internship applications, and whatever type of assistantship I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So needless to say, having so many different hats to wear can make it confusing when explaining what I do to people, even people who I'm close to. It's like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person: "Hey, what's up."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Not much, just got back from work so I'm a bit tired."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "I thought you're a student?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I am, it's my assistantship."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "What's that?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "My job at ASU so I can get tuition and a paycheck."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "Oh. So how much do students get paid for doing therapy?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh well, I don't do therapy for the assistantship. I'm doing some web management stuff."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "Huh? How's that related to psychology?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or here's another scenario:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I have so much homework for my class!"&lt;br /&gt;Person: "I thought you're interning."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I am, but I'm also taking a class. The fieldplacement is just 3 credits."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "What's a fieldplacment?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;grumble grumble grumble. "&lt;/em&gt;The internship."&lt;br /&gt;Person: "Why do you have to be out in the field for that, don't you see clients on campus?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;ARGH....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or yet another:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My assistantship supervisor: "So hows' it going, how are you progressing in your progam?&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well, if all goes well, I can apply for residency next year." (I say residency to her because she's not familiar with psych programs, and I assumed she'd understand it from an MD perspective)&lt;br /&gt;Supervisor: "Oh, I thought you were a resident of the state because we pay your tuition at an in-state rate."&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;GROOOOAAAAANNNNNN&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all I'm gonna say from now on: (imagine this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm a crazy, helping other crazies, in a crazy system. (as I give the person the finger)&lt;as&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person: Why are you flipping me off?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I JUST said I'm crazy!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7338796991631709827?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7338796991631709827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7338796991631709827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7338796991631709827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7338796991631709827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-do-i-do.html' title='What do I do?'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1237878892788393992</id><published>2009-04-13T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T19:58:43.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recipes</title><content type='html'>Some parts of recipes just don't make sense, do they? Like a "dash" of pepper. Well, what the hell is just a dash of pepper gonna do to an entire casserole? Or a "pinch" of salt. As salty as Americans like things, I think they mean a LAYER of salt, don't they??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recipe might as well have "a drop of pee." Will make about the same amount of difference as the pinch of salt!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1237878892788393992?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1237878892788393992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1237878892788393992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1237878892788393992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1237878892788393992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/recipes.html' title='Recipes'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-329021357331298383</id><published>2009-04-07T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T17:45:41.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biting</title><content type='html'>So we can put a man on the moon, circle Mars, have phones that take pictures, yet how is it that after so many years of biting experience, we still make a mistake of biting our tongues or the insides of our cheeks? I mean here we've made all this progress and we eat at least 3 meals a day, chew gum all the time, yet after who knows how many years of evolution, we still accidentally bite ourselves? I bit the side of my tongue today and if a therapist knew the thoughts and language going through my head, I could've been committed to a mental institution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you think about it, biting someone else would be something we wouldn't hesitate to do, cuz it wouldn't hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're an asshole."&lt;br /&gt;"Bite me."&lt;br /&gt;"Gladly."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-329021357331298383?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/329021357331298383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=329021357331298383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/329021357331298383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/329021357331298383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/biting.html' title='Biting'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-811374855642548386</id><published>2009-04-06T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T21:01:00.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mashed potatoes</title><content type='html'>Mashed potatoes: now that's an interesting concept. I wonder how the idea came about. Someone was pissed off, so they took it out on the potatoes. "I'm gonna beat you senseless til you're mush! Then eat ya!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like mine with ranch dressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-811374855642548386?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/811374855642548386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=811374855642548386' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/811374855642548386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/811374855642548386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/mashed-potatoes.html' title='Mashed potatoes'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8202127665769839732</id><published>2009-04-06T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:59:21.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Microwaves</title><content type='html'>Now microwaves have been around for a while now, yes? Then why do people still not know how to maintain them so that they don't gross out their coworkers? The microwave at work looked like someone had thrown up all kinds of nasty shit in it. Obviously covering the food while heating it is not a concept that most have caught on to, or cleaning up after yourself for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place doesn't need a sign that says "Please clean up after yourself cuz your mama don't work heya" (imagine that one in a southern accent). It needs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My cat is more respectful than you because she eats her own vomit."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8202127665769839732?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8202127665769839732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8202127665769839732' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8202127665769839732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8202127665769839732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/04/microwaves.html' title='Microwaves'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2973151281628160870</id><published>2009-03-24T05:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T05:53:49.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakfast</title><content type='html'>So if we sometimes have breakfast for dinner, then how come we never have dinner for breakfast?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2973151281628160870?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2973151281628160870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2973151281628160870' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2973151281628160870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2973151281628160870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/03/breakfast.html' title='Breakfast'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2478848968644460827</id><published>2009-03-16T19:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T19:37:06.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clapping</title><content type='html'>So in this acting class I'm taking, our instructor says that "we always clap for each other" when presenting. I mean I get that it's about showing support for each other because everyone's getting out of their comfort zone some, it can be nerve-racking, yada yada yada. But if we ALWAYS clap, then doesn't it lose its meaning? Shouldn't we clap only if the performance brings out clapping in us? Shouldn't the performer know in some way if they suck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I've thought this through. You don't think I'd say such a thing without thinking through how I'd react if nobody clapped for me now did you? This is what I'd do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit on the ground, take off my shoes and socks, flash my toe and say "fuck you melonfarmers! You think you coulda done that better??? Come up and prove it! I bet my CAT can act better than you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahem, k, I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2478848968644460827?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2478848968644460827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2478848968644460827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2478848968644460827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2478848968644460827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/03/clapping.html' title='Clapping'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1312380666046637154</id><published>2009-03-16T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T19:33:28.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweat pants</title><content type='html'>Okay, so you know how women shouldn't wear pants that show their camel toes? Well for a similar type of reason is why I think men should not be allowed to wear sweat pants. You don't wanna see my camel toe? Then what the hell makes you think I want to see the little ding dong ringing with every move you make?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1312380666046637154?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1312380666046637154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1312380666046637154' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1312380666046637154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1312380666046637154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/03/sweat-pants.html' title='Sweat pants'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4787889265961573205</id><published>2009-03-14T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T07:49:52.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asshole</title><content type='html'>I'm questioning why the word "asshole" became such an insult. Because I really enjoy the morning dump. And during that time I really appreciate my asshole. Actually, a lot of insults deal with the most basic part of living. So perhaps it's our subconscious telling the person that we, in actuality, really care for them. So here are some suggested responses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Asshole!&lt;br /&gt;      Gee, thanks!&lt;br /&gt;-Go fuck yourself!&lt;br /&gt;      I will, and that'll help me to feel better, thanks for the suggestion!&lt;br /&gt;-Butthead&lt;br /&gt;      Aw thanks-I didn't think Iwas smart enough to have 2 heads on my body!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4787889265961573205?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4787889265961573205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4787889265961573205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4787889265961573205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4787889265961573205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/03/asshole.html' title='Asshole'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3975803036372394026</id><published>2009-02-04T19:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T19:48:22.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers? No, PENS.</title><content type='html'>Anyone besides me think that customer service desks putting plastic flowers on top of their pens is STOOOPID??? It's like I'm standing there thinking it's a vase of flowers next to me and I ask for a pen. The woman gets up to take it out of that canister, a pen with a flower on top. WHY?!!! I didn't know they were pens! I thought they were just flowers! If there are just plain pens in there, she wouldn't have had to get up now would she?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And not only that, but I start writing with it and the flower flys off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kinda wish the flower hit someone that worked there. Then would they get how stupid it is?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3975803036372394026?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3975803036372394026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3975803036372394026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3975803036372394026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3975803036372394026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/02/flowers-no-pens.html' title='Flowers? No, PENS.'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-423577791999643141</id><published>2009-02-01T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T10:12:01.307-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Longevity</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how we're always trying to prolong our lives? Eat this and it'll help you live longer. Breathe this way and it'll help you live longer. Do yoga and it'll help you live longer. We get too focused on living longer rather than living itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But does anyone wonder WHY we'd want to live longer? Thing about it, it just means dealing with more ups and downs of the economy, more dealing with stupid, mean or pansy-assed bosses, more showering, more cleaning, more shopping, more cooking, more flossing... and for what seems like from the beginning of time the only thing on the US news is the economy and Gaza strip. I don't know that I want to continue to see that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, as my professor says, I don't wanna sit on a cloud and play the harp for eternity either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not exactly &lt;em&gt;thrilling.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-423577791999643141?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/423577791999643141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=423577791999643141' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/423577791999643141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/423577791999643141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/02/longevity.html' title='Longevity'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8072418857200405266</id><published>2009-01-28T17:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:26:08.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oratory language</title><content type='html'>I think it's funny how we can be so wishy washy and tentative in our language. I've been noticing it more and more lately so it's been annoying me a bit more. I try not to do it and end up doing it anyway! And it's worse when people do it during a speech or presentation, a time when you should be firm, clear and confident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, so the next thing I'm sorta gonna do is cover chapter 6, and I'd kind of like you to think about some ways in which it could be improved. Then we're going to try to fill in those gaps with your thoughts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorta? Kind of like? Going to try? Wouldn't the person actually cover chapter 6, or just sorta cover it? Only *kind of like* people to think about improvement areas? Only *try* to fill in gaps? Don't they want to say "I'm going to cover chapter 6! Think about ways it can be improved! We will fill in gaps!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuz the thing is, we have no problem telling people straight-up, "Go to hell!" or "Fuck you!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, perhaps when I'm frustrated with someone at work and if I phrase it in a tentative way, I could probably get away with saying it to their face:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd sorta like you to fuck yourself. Then gota hell, k?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8072418857200405266?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8072418857200405266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8072418857200405266' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8072418857200405266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8072418857200405266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/01/oratory-language.html' title='Oratory language'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-267727080137331167</id><published>2009-01-26T21:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T21:12:31.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom keys</title><content type='html'>If aliens were watching us from outer space, they'd think that there is some special hidden treasure in public bathrooms. I mean at work, and now at school in this building I have a class in, the bathrooms are locked and it is a huge ordeal to just get your hands on the keys just so you can do the most BASIC chore of the day. There's just one key in the office for all the women and when I really gotta go, you can just imagine the curse words in my head when I go to the front desk and see the key missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at school this week, on the first day of class, the bathroom was on the 2nd floor. And not only did we need a key to get into a bathroom, we needed ANOTHER key to just get into the hallway before we even made it to the bathroom. And of course there's only ONE key. So like kindergarteners the instructor took the girls up first, then the boys. Field trip to the potty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So not only do you have to have special access, you have to go as a group, so there MUST be something special to see in there...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-267727080137331167?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/267727080137331167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=267727080137331167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/267727080137331167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/267727080137331167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/01/bathroom-keys.html' title='Bathroom keys'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1631558916538790774</id><published>2009-01-25T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T21:07:08.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Watch your step."</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how the "Watch your step" signs are always ON the step that you're supposed to be watching?? I noticed that on the train the other day. If I see the step, I see the sign. Isn't the point of the sign to help me see the step?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It then makes just as much sense to have a sign on the floor where your face would land from tripping that says "Told you so."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1631558916538790774?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1631558916538790774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1631558916538790774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1631558916538790774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1631558916538790774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/01/watch-your-step.html' title='&quot;Watch your step.&quot;'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4709700442291763463</id><published>2009-01-05T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:08:27.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>Notice how in a few cultures there exists the sacrificing of living beings to the gods? Whether it be virgins or the best horse breed, or whatever. So killing something else is supposed bring auspiciousness to you? Seems like bit too easy of a ticket, doesn't it? Hmm, makes sense that we've turned into a world of violence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now come to think of it, there *are* a few people I wouldn't mind seen taken out. Perhaps a way for me to reach nirvana?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4709700442291763463?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4709700442291763463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4709700442291763463' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4709700442291763463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4709700442291763463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2009/01/sacrifice.html' title='Sacrifice'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3771576041727596679</id><published>2008-12-31T23:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T23:22:03.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how people say "let this be the best year" when they wish you a happy new year? So it's like, oh, so you want this year to be my best and then all the rest afterward you want to suck, is that it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well then here's my toe you muthafukaz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I'm a little drunk...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3771576041727596679?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3771576041727596679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3771576041727596679' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3771576041727596679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3771576041727596679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1730675315635350485</id><published>2008-12-03T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T05:18:04.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exclamation points</title><content type='html'>Ever notice how we over-use exclamation points in our emails? Like "Have a great day!" or "That works for me!" I mean if we were speaking to the person, we wouldn't yell those things at them now would we? I think I'll try actually yelling those phrases in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Have a nice day!"&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker: "Why are you yelling?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well that's what my email would say wouldn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker: "You're a dork."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "YOU'RE a dork!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1730675315635350485?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1730675315635350485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1730675315635350485' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1730675315635350485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1730675315635350485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/12/exclamation-points.html' title='Exclamation points'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5485779100710617704</id><published>2008-12-01T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T18:34:03.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Email,</title><content type='html'>is like the electronic version of laundry. Just as you clean your inbox out, it just starts piling up again. But at least one advantage is there's not a fowl smell if it piles up for too long. Instead of that, with email you just get pulling your hair out and banging your head against the wall. But you know, you take what you can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5485779100710617704?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5485779100710617704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5485779100710617704' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5485779100710617704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5485779100710617704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/12/email.html' title='Email,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4974597248347492508</id><published>2008-11-26T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T19:05:50.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phone calls</title><content type='html'>I don't know about y'all but leaving phone messages for people is really becoming laborsome. I mean before-hand you have to hear "Please leave a message after the beep. When you are finished with your message, you may hang up, or press # for more options." I mean come oooon! I'm tapping my foot and rolling my eyes thinking that's 5 seconds I'll never get back. I mean does ANYONE not know the *beep system* these days? I think we all know what to do after the beep. So why doesn't it just beep so we can start leaving the message right away? Or at the very least, shorten that stupid message. And gee, thanks for reminding me that I'm *allowed* to hang up when I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do people say, "Hello Felda, it's Karen [or replace with any arbitrary name as you wish] calling." It's Karen calling. It's Karen calling. Do you get my point? Well for Christ's sake I know she's CALLING! What am I going to think, it's Karen knocking on my door? No, she called me on the phone, so I knoooow she's calling! So let's be a little bit more efficient shall we? Picture this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Felda, it's Karen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple right? I know who it is and the fact that they left a message says I can call back when I'm able to get the details on why they wanted to talk. Or if they have a detailed message, leave it, but without the word 'calling.' I mean if someone is going to take the time to state the obvious, then at least tell me something I don't know, like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Felda, it's Karen and I just had a great orgasm. Call back and I'll tell you how I did it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, THAT's helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so that research paper is not happenin' tonight. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4974597248347492508?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4974597248347492508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4974597248347492508' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4974597248347492508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4974597248347492508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/11/phone-calls.html' title='Phone calls'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3883569452840957280</id><published>2008-11-26T18:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T18:49:08.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandwiches 2</title><content type='html'>I should be writing a research paper but thought I'd share this instead:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really really like sandwiches. And not only do I like to eat them, but I also like the word sandwiches. Say it with me: sandwiches, sandwiches, sandwiches. The 'd' kinda gets silent doesn't it? And something about that pronunciation really makes them seem even more wholesome and scrumptous than they already are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And AMAZING how satisfying and fun they are, when they're really just 2 slices of bread with stuff in the middle! I love opening up my lunchbox and seeing the sandwich nestled there with the bag of chips and diet cherry pepsi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, being 8 in a 32 year-old body-it's great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3883569452840957280?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3883569452840957280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3883569452840957280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3883569452840957280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3883569452840957280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/11/sandwiches-2.html' title='Sandwiches 2'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8610076368364204821</id><published>2008-11-24T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T20:41:08.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Elmo</title><content type='html'>Ever notice that Elmo *always* talks in the third person? Yes, Elmo is happy you're staying for dinner. Ooooo, Elmo looooves chocolate. So unlike Jimmy the jumper or George Costanza, he speaks that way when he's *not* upset. So what does he say when he's upset?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps "Oooo, you're a son of a mother fucker!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8610076368364204821?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8610076368364204821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8610076368364204821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8610076368364204821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8610076368364204821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/11/elmo.html' title='Elmo'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8288567643582928573</id><published>2008-10-03T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T20:16:43.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair</title><content type='html'>Ever wonder why graying hair is one of the first signs of aging? I mean I don't get it. It's not like the hair has to work hard. It just sits there looking cute! I mean do the hair follicles run around the way our legs do? Do they beat to circulate blood through our bodies like the heart does? So WHAT is the excuse for going gray in your 20's?? I mean and in your TWENTIES for crying out loud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we aged such that it is more noticeable superficially at the *end* of our lives, we can at least feel good about the way we look for a longer period of time. Then maybe the elderly would get more action in the nursing homes. Hey, you're at more of a risk for a heart attack but at least you can pick up the cute man at the next table over in the dining room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey baby, wanna split a jello with me? &lt;em&gt;Wink wink.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8288567643582928573?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8288567643582928573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8288567643582928573' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8288567643582928573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8288567643582928573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/10/hair.html' title='Hair'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-6719886758157991774</id><published>2008-10-02T19:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T06:42:38.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Political debates</title><content type='html'>Don't political debates (well parts of them anyway) feel like two child siblings fighting? I mean it's not like they truly debate using any real skill; not Lincoln-Douglas nor policy debating like we learn in high school. Instead there's just a lot of "he said, she said" and cross-blaming. And both want to cut taxes in one way or another when paradoxically, they both have to go back to the government (aka "Dad") for funding for their own interests. And this is funding that comes from taxpayers! So it's like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 1: You took all the Snickers bars out of the jar!&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 2: I did not!&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 1: You did too!&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 2: Well you took all the Jolly Ranchers and gave them to your friends, and there were none left for me!&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 1: No I didn't! And even if I did, it's cuz last month you took all my M&amp;amp;M's to school for Valentine's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile the candy jar is just slowly emptying with no real account of where the candy went, followed by:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sibling 1 and 2: "Dad!!! Can we have a higher allowance for more candy???"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-6719886758157991774?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/6719886758157991774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=6719886758157991774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6719886758157991774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/6719886758157991774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/10/political-debates.html' title='Political debates'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5048177526271923922</id><published>2008-09-25T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T07:38:15.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ph.D</title><content type='html'>I'll let you in on a little secret: Ph.D actually stands for Phony Doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it: they can't help people when they're sick, and their dissertations show they know a whole lot about nothing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hee hee :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5048177526271923922?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5048177526271923922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5048177526271923922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5048177526271923922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5048177526271923922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/phd.html' title='Ph.D'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1991262331987164159</id><published>2008-09-21T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:21:47.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Traffic lights</title><content type='html'>Does anyone besides me get annoyed when you get stopped at a small traffic light? Meaning not the ones at the major streets, but at the small streets that are like a 1/4 of a mile apart. It's funny cuz I feel so DEFEATED when I have to stop at those. I'm thinking, "You're a measly little street! I should've been able to drive past you!" And it's especially annoying when you're on a roll of having to stop at every light on the way home, especially when you're exhausted and just want to crawl into bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1991262331987164159?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1991262331987164159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1991262331987164159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1991262331987164159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1991262331987164159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/traffic-lights.html' title='Traffic lights'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1034834506821550211</id><published>2008-09-21T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:16:11.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgetfulness</title><content type='html'>Isn't it amazing how we can forget some of the basic things everyday that are really important? It goes without saying that we always need to be drinking water in the hot desert, and I'm sipping water all the time, but I often forget to leave my house with the water bottle. Or during that special time of the month I can forget to check that I have pads in my purse. So the other day I forgot BOTH and after I had left the house, I had to turn around and come back home for those things. The annoying thing is I would've otherwise gotten to work on time! Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting how we can make such stupid mistakes despite the technological progress the human race has made. Was Einstein this forgetful? Well at least it makes sense that *I* wasn't the one who came up with E=mc-squared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1034834506821550211?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1034834506821550211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1034834506821550211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1034834506821550211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1034834506821550211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/forgetfulness.html' title='Forgetfulness'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8379641378718808764</id><published>2008-09-14T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T08:33:46.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Urinals</title><content type='html'>I wonder, isn't it weird for guys to be peeing next to each other? Do they really talk to each other as they pee? And what if you accidentally see your neighbor's thingy? And so how did the idea for urinals come about? Isn't it just as easy to pee in a stall? You can still talk when you're in the stall. Women do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it is a bit weird for me to talk to someone while I'm peeing. But amazing how it happens all the time isn't it? And people talk on their cell phones while they are on the can! Isn't that weird? And public restrooms don't have toilet lids that you can put down before flushing so that germs don't come up. Don't people think of that when they take certain things in the stall with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we're going to do all this when going to the bathroom, then why have stalls at all? Just keep a row of toilets and urinals. I mean would we really be seeing anything that's a MYSTERY? And it's not like the walls help with the smell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8379641378718808764?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8379641378718808764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8379641378718808764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8379641378718808764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8379641378718808764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/urinals.html' title='Urinals'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8430527361800294033</id><published>2008-09-14T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T08:24:43.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite number</title><content type='html'>I don't really have a favorite number and then I got to thinking, what's a *favorite* number? Why would anyone have one? I can understand a favorite color because you would choose clothes or paint colors based on it. Or even a favorite letter, so you can choose what to name your child. I get having a lucky number but a &lt;em&gt;favorite&lt;/em&gt; number?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean let's say your favorite number is 9. Are you going to wake up at 9? But what if you have to be at work at 9? Or are you going to order 9 pizzas? It'd be hard to finish that many. Or get your oil changed 9 times a month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get my point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8430527361800294033?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8430527361800294033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8430527361800294033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8430527361800294033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8430527361800294033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/favorite-number.html' title='Favorite number'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-1630752706345724574</id><published>2008-09-12T18:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:34:04.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>National survey</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it! I was actually called today to fill out a survey on this year's presidential election! I mean because before, I always wondered WHO they actually surveyed for the poll numbers. Didn't you? I would think "WHERE are they getting these numbers??? I never get asked to participate in a poll!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my friends, turns out they *are* real polls. Now I feel like I can at least trust that. Otherwise it felt like they were making up the numbers in favor of a particular candidate, as a way to sway voters. Think about it, the numbers are always like 52% for McCain and 48% for Obama, or 54% for Obama and 46% for McCain. Because they're thinking, "Well we can't say 10-90 cuz then they'll KNOW we're making it up! Duh..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-1630752706345724574?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/1630752706345724574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=1630752706345724574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1630752706345724574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/1630752706345724574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/national-survey.html' title='National survey'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-763363508138182294</id><published>2008-09-10T19:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T19:31:58.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduate students,</title><content type='html'>why don't we just call them what they really are: ass-kissing suck-up slaves not even on the bottom of the totem pole-they are buried in the sand getting stepped on all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean rolling around in the sand would be fun if it were some *sweet* ass you were kissing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-763363508138182294?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/763363508138182294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=763363508138182294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/763363508138182294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/763363508138182294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/graduate-students.html' title='Graduate students,'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-5990726435429409247</id><published>2008-09-07T09:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T09:26:02.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Basketball 2</title><content type='html'>I just realized, playing basketball is the one time when you can get in someone's face and say "I'm not touching you, I'm not touching you!" and it's okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hee hee.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-5990726435429409247?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/5990726435429409247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=5990726435429409247' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5990726435429409247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/5990726435429409247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/basketball-2.html' title='Basketball 2'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3616551581951164096</id><published>2008-09-01T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T12:22:42.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gross foods</title><content type='html'>Ever wonder how the idea for cheese came up? Did someone say, "Hey, let's let the milk sit out for a couple months and see what it turns into. Maybe we'll want to eat it."  Uh, okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do people like cheese? Some folks are like "The stinkier the better!" with it too-GROSS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean I know cats eat their own vomit, but we're HUMAN. Why do people like cheese? *Especially* stinky cheese?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, why do people like beer? Do they think, "Well, I like stuff that tastes like crap and looks like pee!" Suuuure, makes sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3616551581951164096?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3616551581951164096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3616551581951164096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3616551581951164096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3616551581951164096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/gross-foods.html' title='Gross foods'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-8713114596618050424</id><published>2008-09-01T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T11:05:16.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fans</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that with any fan, the FIRST setting you get to after turning it on is the fastest one? And generally I use the lowest setting, so I have to turn the knob all the way over to get the setting I want. Same thing with my ceiling fan: I have to pull on the cord a couple times to get the speed I want after turning it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't they just have the slowest setting be the first one you get to, the next one be the next fastest, and so on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-8713114596618050424?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/8713114596618050424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=8713114596618050424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8713114596618050424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/8713114596618050424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/09/fans.html' title='Fans'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4149025893886795104</id><published>2008-08-20T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T18:13:24.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diving #2</title><content type='html'>Oh yeah, I forgot to mention in my last post that what always cracks me up about the diving competitions is that they, for the most part, generally make all the athletes look pretty good. Their acrobatic twists are nice and graceful and then they land cleanly in the water. I mean HOW to the judges determine how smoothly they land in the water? I always get a kick out of, "And a clean land in the water, that was incredible!" I'm thinking, "Well, he still splashed *some* water!" He's going to, he's diving from quite a distance! But it's not like any of them are bad enough to do belly flops. So do the judges have binoculars that have the ability to see at the atomic level so that they can count how many water droplets come up??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if divers get judged that way then I guess it makes sense when I get flack for having *one* piece of paper on the passenger seat in my car. Somehow I've gotten this reputation of always having my house, car, working space, etc. as clean and organized as utopia. And worst of all, this reputation is so extreme I get chastised for a HUMAN "mistake" of having a piece of paper on my passenger seat, or a couple things sitting in my trunk! At one time I picked my cousin up from the airport and when he was putting his bags in my trunk he said something to the effect of, "Wow, wasn't expecting Felda's car in this condition!" That was for having like TWO things in my trunk! I mean having a pressure gage and extra hat is just good sense people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where I get this reputation. Oh wait, the OCD and sick ability to remember how I place every little thing might have something to do with it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4149025893886795104?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4149025893886795104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4149025893886795104' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4149025893886795104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4149025893886795104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/08/diving-2.html' title='Diving #2'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-7900965175736344569</id><published>2008-08-13T20:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T20:48:52.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diving</title><content type='html'>So I was watching some of the Olympics and thinking to myself, "Self, why do you think there are diving competitions?" And I couldn't come up with answer. I mean why? Why diving of all things to compete in? Isn't it more important that you can swim once you get IN the water? If you get thrown overboard, you don't really have time to do a fancy acrobatic thingy before you get in the water do you? So by then who cares? You have to save your life by swimming to shore, not worry about being SYNCHRONIZED with another person during a dive for crying out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea is just amazing to me. I can't swim very well and the thought of diving is beyond me. The idea of going into water head-first is scary, not to mention diving off a high board with an acrobatic twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think my favorite part of watching those competitions is staring at the sexy abs of those men! I mean, the political candidates would get some great attention from voters by just paying the divers millions to tattoo their names on their chests!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that sure throws clean elections into the water (no pun intended. Oh who am I kindin', TOTALLY intended) ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-7900965175736344569?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/7900965175736344569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=7900965175736344569' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7900965175736344569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/7900965175736344569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/08/diving.html' title='Diving'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-921243074996950267</id><published>2008-08-02T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T19:34:52.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Artificial</title><content type='html'>Ever wonder exactly what it is that is in artificial sweeteners? Because in the Splenda ad for instance, they say "It's made from sugar, tastes like sugar, but is not sugar." What IS it then??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess with humans it's not entirely different:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He SEEMS nice enough but has a giant, sexist ego.&lt;br /&gt;She SHOULD be honest being a professor and all, but is a compulsive liar.&lt;br /&gt;He LOOKS well put-together but is really chicken shit.&lt;br /&gt;She LOOKS normal, but is really a *psycho.*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-921243074996950267?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/921243074996950267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=921243074996950267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/921243074996950267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/921243074996950267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/08/artificial.html' title='Artificial'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-2480756720997024947</id><published>2008-08-01T08:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T08:24:01.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excessive Heat Warning</title><content type='html'>Excessive Heat Warning??? We live in the DESERT for crying out loud. Every DAY is an excessive heat warning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-2480756720997024947?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/2480756720997024947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=2480756720997024947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2480756720997024947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/2480756720997024947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/08/excessive-heat-warning.html' title='Excessive Heat Warning'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-3161971611751151232</id><published>2008-07-31T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T20:02:43.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat vomit</title><content type='html'>Okay, I may have spoken too soon when I said I'd rather have a cat than a kid. I mean a day doesn't go by that I'm not cleaning up cat vomit. Pretty soon my carpet is going to go from its gray color to a brown! I mean I have wooden floors or tiles in most of my living area but WHERE does she always throw up???? The CARPET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if we have robots that can act like humans, why don't they just put computer chips in the little buggers that are programmed such that the cats immediately start walking to the floor as they start to feel nauseous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, doesn't it seem like so much more practical things could be done with technology compared to things like IPods and texting? If anything, those things are making us stupider with people being checked out from their surroundings with the music, and their grammar getting ruined with the texting! And did you hear about the woman who fell into the street as she was walking and texting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wtf??? btw, the Empress is 4ever, agree? Lmk!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-3161971611751151232?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/3161971611751151232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=3161971611751151232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3161971611751151232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/3161971611751151232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/07/cat-vomit.html' title='Cat vomit'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15081182.post-4222251428177030811</id><published>2008-07-26T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T09:52:59.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think the weather channel should only present what happened in the past, not what they THINK is going to happen in the future. Think about it, we look at the weather before planning something but how often does that weather report turn out to be accurate? So if we can't be 100% accurate, then why report it at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather, presenting what happened in the past would be more entertaining. It could be a reality show of how people think they can beat the weather. Like "It was pouring down rain and a few 30-something women attempted to mend their PERMEABLE tent at a campsite. It was all in vain and they ended up leaving the campsite and staying in a hotel room (now THAT's the way to camp). The next day they went up the hiking trail and it started pouring, so they put on their ponchos and started heading back down the mountain. And folks, of course as we know, they didn't have their ponchos on and AFTER they put them on, the rain (of course) stopped. They then felt hot so they took the ponchos off. But it started raining again, so they had to dig into the bags for the ponchos AGAIN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the channel could be called, "Hindsight weather, the chumps got stumped!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15081182-4222251428177030811?l=seinfelda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/feeds/4222251428177030811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15081182&amp;postID=4222251428177030811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4222251428177030811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15081182/posts/default/4222251428177030811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seinfelda.blogspot.com/2008/07/weather.html' title='Weather'/><author><name>Felda, Jerry Seinfeld's Biggest Fan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10361869770990436218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1554/1385/200/busygirl.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
