tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66848172085625984202024-03-13T14:39:40.555-07:00Bout 3 Bout 4Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-76185484887914719082011-04-29T23:16:00.000-07:002011-04-29T23:18:12.579-07:00Goodbye Peeta<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwhtRi5XIwDdA1guU5FqjM2ISf7K652-pyGgQtI4bBEsCmU39jBVcAQDGItjzDU8W7kOBGdXdqX2mucNGYtCQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />Good riddance Peter Grieves. Today was the last day of math. Too bad that the only day you decided to comb your hair was the day I filmed you. But you are wearing the worst shirt ever. I s'pose that makes up for it.Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-23125817486110906192011-04-27T16:16:00.001-07:002011-04-27T16:17:26.930-07:00Be True Be True<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATZlXQnhKPcsIuqzPTkQk8RdN5MP6NUlFjQ9HGFixSVxO_AnvJ-0FDzwppww6PPKq11JjaGtc06J02Ay6XKf7n48k5RYyTkV8RJvDg1mHnqtaJGsbuN7i5KOBu9HpZONt-hrO73EwhGwn/s1600/be+true.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATZlXQnhKPcsIuqzPTkQk8RdN5MP6NUlFjQ9HGFixSVxO_AnvJ-0FDzwppww6PPKq11JjaGtc06J02Ay6XKf7n48k5RYyTkV8RJvDg1mHnqtaJGsbuN7i5KOBu9HpZONt-hrO73EwhGwn/s320/be+true.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600406295394502306" /></a><br /><br />Don't mind the 5 year old's writing. It was wicked cold outside.Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-30566808916492486872011-03-10T20:35:00.000-08:002011-03-10T20:39:36.470-08:00Angus, Thongs, and Bending It Like Beckham<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mcqUPV3xVu0/TXmmvhcrYiI/AAAAAAAAACI/Bzmlt8WK90U/s1600/article-0-02100AB900000578-78_468x304.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mcqUPV3xVu0/TXmmvhcrYiI/AAAAAAAAACI/Bzmlt8WK90U/s320/article-0-02100AB900000578-78_468x304.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582676548465156642" /></a>I love British cinema. Last night I watched Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging. Now all day today I have "slaggy Lindsey" stuck in my head. It just tickles me! Its so funny! Same with "Yes Joe. Coach, Joe. Joe. Man. Joe," "Of course I understand, I'm Irish," and "Cheazus" from Bend It Like Beckham. Sometimes I just think about them and it causes unintentional bursts of out-loud laughter. Also, look at Kierra Knightly's fist on the cover of this movie. Its the little things, I tell ya. That is <img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QHRJfBFzPeI/TXmnaG9aQMI/AAAAAAAAACg/9cic59EdTUc/s320/bend_it_like_beckham-movie.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582677280089063618" />just<i>too</i> funny.<div></div>Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-50956480409325771042011-03-09T17:38:00.000-08:002011-03-09T17:58:30.251-08:00Autobon Ask-Out<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwe_v-DYIES1KLQgIzNmWroGE0y5dAWxmsVfkdv_JJqiA8E4BswV6ISv_sikKv5p-WsqFXPTypuYB98OVCnDKX6rpd_V4RMB2potDoYgAomyAXqnpGdfEXKyWeD-UiJoJ7DZKZYeD8pk7z/s1600/tumblr_lhssitaAgP1qzmvhdo1_500.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwe_v-DYIES1KLQgIzNmWroGE0y5dAWxmsVfkdv_JJqiA8E4BswV6ISv_sikKv5p-WsqFXPTypuYB98OVCnDKX6rpd_V4RMB2potDoYgAomyAXqnpGdfEXKyWeD-UiJoJ7DZKZYeD8pk7z/s320/tumblr_lhssitaAgP1qzmvhdo1_500.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582259815569195122" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Mmmkay. First of all, it was not on the Autobon. But that <i>was </i>a necessary alliteration. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> Bout 2 weeks ago, roommates and I went to our dear friend Danny-boy's farewell. During the 1.5 hour journey, Keasha caught the attention of some handsome boys in a Kia with her flailing limbs. Soon they were zooming up next to us and flashing their phone number. Keash wrote it down, but she has number dyslexia so in order to keep contact with said men, we had to act fast. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Paige quickly whipped out a paper and artistically inscribed my own phone number on it with a caption that read,"How about <i>you</i> call <i>me</i>!" Everyone had their phones out desperately typing in phone numbers when my phone started buzzing. Hesitantly, I answered. As I said hello, I turned my head and, due to our constant matching speeds, we locked eyes.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> Their names were McKay and Chaz. And we hung out. Just them, Courtney and I. We ate pizooki till I was writhing in pain. They taught us dance moves. We watched a movie. We laughed. And for a whole 4 hours, two incredibly handsome boy's attention was aimed at me. Result!</div>Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-14455162698853430532011-03-07T21:45:00.001-08:002011-03-07T21:51:18.355-08:00She Will Never Not Be Funny<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_cS4ze6DElbFEPSm96JJIblHtoJ-GgfpPQk1TnMiMPdG8M-5xpFP5pH6dQvlDpGYp1NAaXiS2N4D1MaGhmigzP0wBi-4FkowfQZVgnvwhN17-GjL237bTzCIJ85htY2pokgdAVWFBArp/s320/butter" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 308px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581581731038705778" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >Paula Deen didn't.</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXmgE7HckmDYiDHKhKXXgjfhkYC3Skwaw9B1aOWM2Hrld6bpb1hXwXsGi1bZvcE_z0mMjY4VWcK9e_vItPtHIMNY0DzEAqL0tUcjZTN96qh44TyCPKyqLSnJR_591r5dQ4HJCYbr4PbmB/s320/p.deen.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 125px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581582091659407202" /><div><br /></div></div></div>Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6684817208562598420.post-29546093578979162422011-03-06T19:16:00.000-08:002011-03-06T19:19:57.724-08:00ConformIts time. I've done it. A blogspot blog was never intended. But then, as only faithful tumblrs will understand, I was Forever Alone. Now I can follow my lovilies without having to check their blogs like a crazed stalker. I've yet to decide whether my entire internet existence will migrate to this blog, or if it will be sort of a life update sort of deal. <div><br /></div><div>Until further notice, Jade</div>Bout3Bout4http://www.blogger.com/profile/03189238202150901727noreply@blogger.com0