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<rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" version="2.0"><channel><atom:link rel="hub" href="http://tumblr.superfeedr.com/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"/><description>Like we know how to build a right of way.</description><title>Roadwork On The 818.</title><generator>Tumblr (3.0; @eighteighteen)</generator><link>http://eighteighteen.org/</link><item><title>Video</title><description>&lt;iframe width="400" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0rYdyePBYr4?wmode=transparent&amp;autohide=1&amp;egm=0&amp;hd=1&amp;iv_load_policy=3&amp;modestbranding=1&amp;rel=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;showsearch=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;</description><link>http://eighteighteen.org/post/13111970752</link><guid>http://eighteighteen.org/post/13111970752</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Nov 2011 10:04:24 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>see, sometimes I don’t understand you
and I don’t understand this place
I don’t...</title><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;p class="p1"&gt;see, sometimes I don’t understand you&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p1"&gt;and I don’t understand this place&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p1"&gt;I don’t know if you can read it&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p1"&gt;but the volumes of confusion are&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p1"&gt;plastered all over my face&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://eighteighteen.org/post/12558456836</link><guid>http://eighteighteen.org/post/12558456836</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Nov 2011 11:07:08 -0500</pubDate><category>snippet</category></item><item><title>this is me, i'm a freak. part one of a thousand.</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Reading forums today and not being able to reply due to failings of the ‘you ass’ filter is quite the pisser when you’re trying to look like a responsible leader of the community. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;However, a couple of points in short order:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Don’t ‘ghost’ any kind of event, ever. I don’t care if you’re broke, busted and disgusted; if you really wanted to attend the damn thing you would’ve been saving your pennies already. And to further this point, don’t get pissed when you get thrown out because you don’t have the required identification method that the event uses to make sure you’re where you’re supposed to be (badge, sticker, ghetto permanent marker drawing, whatever)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Also, I don’t find people that feel the need to press themselves (sometimes literally) on others all that attractive, and kind of wish they’d just up and explode. Preferably in the middle of an open field. It’s not and never has been funny. Sorry!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://eighteighteen.org/post/11196857125</link><guid>http://eighteighteen.org/post/11196857125</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Oct 2011 17:17:14 -0400</pubDate><category>up on the observation deck</category><category>rantings and ramblings</category></item><item><title>this song is about you in short order.</title><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You came in and sideswiped me today&lt;br/&gt;unawares and yet I knew it was coming &lt;br/&gt;I knew to prepare for the day you’d come in and&lt;br/&gt;take potshots at my knees and bring me down&lt;br/&gt;because you said everything was okay&lt;br/&gt;but it wasn’t, not on the inside&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i knew this, i knew this&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i wanted you to say things were not fine, but it’d be all right&lt;br/&gt;that you weren’t angry, just miffed or bemused.&lt;br/&gt;no, no. once is enough. you told me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;all these things you brought against me&lt;br/&gt;all these charges you’ve filed&lt;br/&gt;straight from left field in the palm of your hand&lt;br/&gt;to my cheek&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i knew this, i knew this&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i’ve got to find the words to inform you&lt;br/&gt;not upset you or beguile you&lt;br/&gt;that you can’t come in and exclaim i’m the most&lt;br/&gt;precious china doll you’ve ever seen&lt;br/&gt;and simultaneously turn around and say&lt;br/&gt;i’m the most out of touch with reality.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i am the honest one here, I’ve told you everything&lt;br/&gt;there isn’t anything that wasn’t put on the table&lt;br/&gt;for you, no secret walled gardens. &lt;br/&gt;i am the manual, plain english.&lt;br/&gt;yet you came in from left field in the palm of your hand&lt;br/&gt;straight to my cheek.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;i knew this, i knew this. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://eighteighteen.org/post/9634223334</link><guid>http://eighteighteen.org/post/9634223334</guid><pubDate>Wed, 31 Aug 2011 15:01:01 -0400</pubDate><category>a friend</category><category>losing my religion</category><category>up on the observation deck</category><category>supposedtry</category></item><item><title>Dogs sit in the back seat.</title><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Okay, humorous story time, more for you and less for me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So here’s the deal. Despite claiming to be a very easily annoyed guy, I am pretty patient when it comes to most things. I mean, your parents always told you to pick your battles, and so did mine. But I have the added disability of never knowing when the battles should start because you never know how bad it could escalate.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But I have to tell you that playing ‘disc jockey’ on a car stereo while I’m trying to drive is pretty annoying. Add to that mix a healthy dollop of ROAD CONSTRUCTION.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As you may know from reading previous journal entries, you have discerned that I have previously taken a beach trip. Well, to be a nice guy, I rented a car to take on this trip and asked a couple of friends to ride with me and all they had to do was pay for gas. Nothing too complicated.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One of my friends happens to be an amateur DJ, and I only use the word amateur here because he’s just not on the front lines with his name in lights. He’s rather good at making the sounds come out of the speakers in his own little way. But during this trip I don’t think he realized that there is a difference between his fancy pants mixer and a car stereo. He kept adjusting the treble and the bass for EACH. AND. EVERY. SONG. during the trip as if he were sitting on his computer in his audio program trying to craft the perfect track. But the meddling doesn’t stop there.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Oh no.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We’d left rather late from everybody getting off of work and having to pick another person up on the way and eating dinner, which put us at the halfway point after dark. What we didn’t know is that there would be a fair bit of road construction there.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So I’m not good with LOUD NOISES!!! when I need to concentrate. That means I turn the stereo down to a decent decibel level so that I can pay attention to what I’m doing. But what does ‘disc jockey’ friend do? He turns it up to ELEVEN!!!, that’s what. And were we cruising down the highway this wouldn’t be a problem. But I’m trying to drive and am being assaulted by LOUD NOISES!!! and not lose my cool.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Suffice it to say that this wasn’t the only time he did this, it happened multiple times while driving. And there wasn’t much construction at that point. We made it through the travel all right, but next time I’m going to PULL THE CAR OVER AND TURN IT RIGHT BACK AROUND.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Moral of the story is: Keep the dogs in the backseat. You’ll have a better trip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://eighteighteen.org/post/9076089903</link><guid>http://eighteighteen.org/post/9076089903</guid><pubDate>Thu, 18 Aug 2011 06:45:02 -0400</pubDate></item></channel></rss>

