<?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-16201223</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:43:51.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonymous Werewolf</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings and Rantings of A Fun Loving College Girl Afflicted With the Curse of Lycanthropy</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-114830416952935205</id><published>2006-05-22T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T06:22:49.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Be Back Soon</title><content type='html'>Things have been crazy.  Once finals are over, I'll be back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-114830416952935205?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/114830416952935205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=114830416952935205&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/114830416952935205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/114830416952935205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2006/05/ill-be-back-soon.html' title='I&apos;ll Be Back Soon'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-113078908058896836</id><published>2005-10-31T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T12:19:26.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloweekend</title><content type='html'>I'm glad that Halloween falls on a Monday. Basically it's been four solid days of partying. It makes up for last year when I was with Todd. He ruined Halloween for me by mocking people who celebrate as being "tourists". He didn't want to go out on Halloween, because he said that's the one night he stays in "becuase all the amateurs come out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake and I have been going out as Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. He's dressed up as Tyler Durden and I'm dressed up like Lara Croft the Tomb Raider. We both walk around with Asian and black dolls and tell everyone that we're not seeing each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake originally wanted to go out as Bush and that Harriet Miers woman. If I dress up for Halloween, I want to be hot. I don't want to dress up like my grandmother. Anyway, he tried to talk me into it by saying that I could go around saying that he is the smartest person I've ever met. I don't know why that's supposed to be funny, but I usually don't get political humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella really tarted it up this year. She has this sexy lowcut vampiress dress . Josh has been calling her "Boobula." Of course, he can't really talk about custumes. He went out dressed up in a torn Boy Scout uniform, smeared with Vaseline, saying he's an escapee from Neverland Ranch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I've been wrecked several times this weekend, I'm still looking forward to going out. But I swear if I see another vampire, I'm going to scream. Why do vampires get all the exposure? People think there all sexy but, who wants to be dead? They have to be cold and they can't smell very good. And I think you have to be into really bad music and talk about how miserable the world is. I mean, what's the point of being immortal if you're just going to spend eternity bitching and moaning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get over yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-113078908058896836?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/113078908058896836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=113078908058896836&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/113078908058896836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/113078908058896836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/10/halloweekend.html' title='Halloweekend'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-113017215263602779</id><published>2005-10-24T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T10:16:38.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homecoming</title><content type='html'>I went home for the weekend, partially because I haven't been back in awhile and also because my parents needed me to watch my sister while they surveyed the damage at the cottage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually don't like coming home because my Dad treats me like a child when I'm here. He's like "I can't control what you do when you're at school, but while you're home you have to live under my rules." I mean, come on. Why can I be trusted when I'm up at school, but when I get home it's like I'm thirteen again? I'm an adult. In Canada, I can legally drink. And, you know, I've killed before. So why do I have to be home by 1:00am?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so unfair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Mom said Dad pretty much had a conniption when he saw the cottage. He's all obsessed with how the door was broken from the &lt;em&gt;inside&lt;/em&gt;. Let it go, man. Somethings just aren't meant to be understood. Besides, that's why we have insurance, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up to the mall while they were out and ran into my old boyfriend, Casey. He was like, "Imagine seeing you at the mall." I've been dreading running into him. We haven't talked much since we broke up.  We grew apart last year and then I started things up with Todd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked for awhile. He's doing ok. He's taking classes at the local community college. His dad made him go there to prove that he would be serious about school before paying for him to go to a university. But he wants to been DJ'ing and says he makes decent money spinning at local clubs so he's still not too motivated to hit the books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he's been dating some girl he met at the club. He asked about Todd. When I told him that we broke up, he seemed a little hopeful, but then I told him about Jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird how you can run into someone that you used to spend hours with talking on the phone and realize that you don't have much to talk about anymore. and no matter how busy things are with your life, you can sum it all up in like five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never know how much you've grown until you come back home and see that your home and old friends just don't seem to fit anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-113017215263602779?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/113017215263602779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=113017215263602779&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/113017215263602779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/113017215263602779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/10/homecoming.html' title='Homecoming'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112959796447876979</id><published>2005-10-17T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T18:43:57.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Laid Plans</title><content type='html'>I really tried to plan ahead better this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that it was supposed to dip down below 40 degrees last night, I got the brainstorm to go up to our cottage for the moon. We'd closed it for the winter and I figured most of our neighbors had done the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prepared for my stay by buying a bunch of lean cut steaks and the biggest water dish I could find. I even bought a couple of squeak toys, so I wouldn't get bored. I locked the doors thinking there was no way that I could work the doorknob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my disappointment when I woke up inside someone's toolshed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately I wasn't too far from the cottage (and even more fortunate, that there were some clothes in the shed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to the cottage and it was wrecked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hadn't even touched the steaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I drove back to campus, I got a call from my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sweetie, are you ok?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;""Well, I tried to call you last night both at your room and your cell phone and you didn't answer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I was at the library really late last night and I probably had my cell on silent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got a call from Mrs. Bender.  She said something got into the cottage last night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really, like what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She doesn't know, but she heard a racket in their last night. She went by this morning and found the furntiure was overturned and some of it was broken. The door was knocked off the hinges. She's having it sealed up for us until your father and I can get up there this weekend.  Which is nice of her especially in her condition."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is she ok?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Physically, yes.  But whatever was out there last night got Fifi."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi is Mrs. Bender's French poodle.  She had to be at least twelve years old.  She was a yippy little thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's terrible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That dog was like a child to her.  She's beside herself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  I can't believe that I've been burping up poodle all day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112959796447876979?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112959796447876979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112959796447876979&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112959796447876979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112959796447876979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/10/best-laid-plans.html' title='Best Laid Plans'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112863832372936209</id><published>2005-10-06T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T18:13:16.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Break-Up Monster</title><content type='html'>I've been avoiding Jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella had a huge blow-out with her boyfriend, the guy that she denied was her boyfriend. So whatever they were, it's over now. The long-distance thing was too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have to avoid the Break-Up Monster. This beast likes to move on from one broken relationship and cause other break-ups. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake thinks I'm avoiding him.  I haven't seen since he got back from spending the holiday with his family earlier this week.  I told him I've been spending time with Bella, which is true.  But I haven't told him about the Break-Up Monster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever noticed that break-ups tend to follow other break-ups?  I don't know if its because they heighten everyone's anxiety about their own relationships or if people take sides or what.  But last year, about seven girls broke up with their boyfriends over the span of a weekend.  And it wasn't even the weekend before Valentine's Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't be suprised if this is all tied in to Nick and Jessica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there's no Break-Up Monster.  But I'm not taking any chances. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, stranger things have happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112863832372936209?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112863832372936209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112863832372936209&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112863832372936209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112863832372936209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/10/break-up-monster.html' title='The Break-Up Monster'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112843471461801946</id><published>2005-10-04T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T10:11:48.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?</title><content type='html'>My Dad is giving me a hard time about being responsible and picking out a major.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm listed as a "non-preference" student at school, which is a horrible way to describe someone who just hasn't picked a major yet. I have &lt;em&gt;preferences&lt;/em&gt;. For example, I &lt;em&gt;prefer&lt;/em&gt; not to live on Ramen noodles. I just don't know what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm jealous of people like Jake and Bella, who knew they wanted to be since they were born. My dad is a total workaholic. My mom stayed at home, which I know is work too. But I wouldn't want either one of their lives. I just don't want life to be boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to go see my advisor, which was a complete waste of time because if he knew anything about career planning, he wouldn't be an college advisor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me, "well, what do you want to do?" If I knew, I wouldn't go to see him, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him about a few things that I want to do. Like being a purchaser for Banana Republic or something. But I think you have to take a bunch of business classes, which has nothing to do with picking out jeans that don't make your butt look too flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This school hasn't done a good job at staying current on careers. For example, there should be a major in being on reality television. Because once you get on one, that's like your new career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at &lt;em&gt;The Real World&lt;/em&gt;. The bars around here are always bringing old cast members like The Miz and Teck. They basically get paid to get drunk. I even heard Coral does speaking engagements. What does she talk about - what it's like to have huge boobs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be on &lt;em&gt;The Real World&lt;/em&gt;. I could be the party girl who just happens to be a werewolf. I would be totally normal for most of the shows, then there would be an episode where I change. It could be one of those "very special episodes," where everyone would learn a lesson about lycanthropy. You know, like the shows on binge drinking or Lyme disease.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112843471461801946?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112843471461801946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112843471461801946&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112843471461801946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112843471461801946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-do-i-want-to-be-when-i-grow-up.html' title='What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112783789334280433</id><published>2005-09-27T09:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T09:41:04.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, Let Me See If I've Got This Straight</title><content type='html'>My schedule yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:30am -9:15am Wake up, shower and get dressed.&lt;br /&gt;9:30 - 10:25 Class&lt;br /&gt;11:00 - 12:00pm Meet Stacie at the Union for lunch&lt;br /&gt;12:00pm to 12:55pm: Study&lt;br /&gt;12:55-2:25 Class&lt;br /&gt;2:45 -5:00 Study (Ok, study, catnap and catch up on my shows)&lt;br /&gt;5:00-5:45 Go for a run&lt;br /&gt;6:00 - 7:15 Shower and eat dinner&lt;br /&gt;8:00 - ??? Hang out over Jake's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad's schedule yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30am Wake up.&lt;br /&gt;5:45-6:30 Treadmill&lt;br /&gt;7:00 -7:45 Commute to work&lt;br /&gt;7:45am to 6:30pm Work&lt;br /&gt;6:30 -7:15 Commute home&lt;br /&gt;7:15pm -7:45 Dinner&lt;br /&gt;10:00 Go to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this what I'm supposed to look forward to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're going to have to drag me out of this place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112783789334280433?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112783789334280433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112783789334280433&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112783789334280433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112783789334280433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/ok-let-me-see-if-ive-got-this-straight.html' title='Ok, Let Me See If I&apos;ve Got This Straight'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112744142678542291</id><published>2005-09-23T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T10:18:23.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five People Whose Throats I'd Like To Rip Out</title><content type='html'>One of the things that sucks about my condition is that I have no control over who I attack (which doesn't happen everytime, but often enough). I mean it's always some camper or cute deer or something. It would totally rock if I could pick people out in advance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes before the moon I try to concentrate on someone I don't like really hard, but it never works. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I could, here's five people I'd want to take out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Alan from Barnes and Noble. I might have flirted a little too hard during the interview. He's always hanging around me at work, even though I've told him that I have a boyfriend. And when I'm putting books away, he always finds some way to brush up against me even though the aisles are like five feet wide. Sometimes, I can feel his thingie. Ewww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My Chemistry T.A. She thinks she so smart and acts like you're a total idiot when you ask a question. I mean, what is she there for then? I would give her like a 50 yard head start just to make it interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Ashlee Simpson. I wouldn't even give her a head start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My next door neighbor. She totally ratted me out to my dad when I came home a little tipsy this summer.   I bet she tastes like old people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. P. Diddy or Diddy or whatever his name is this week. I mean, when is his fifteen minutes up? Why is he hosting award shows? Of course, If I ate him I'd probably end up with a contact high for like a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112744142678542291?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112744142678542291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112744142678542291&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112744142678542291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112744142678542291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/five-people-whose-throats-id-like-to.html' title='Five People Whose Throats I&apos;d Like To Rip Out'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112743904599136144</id><published>2005-09-22T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T18:39:48.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bella</title><content type='html'>It's taken me awhile to get over last weekend.  I was completely tapped and I've been trying to catch up on my classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now whenever I hang out with Jake at his place, his roommate Josh wants me to bring Bella with me. He's crushing on her something fierce. It's understandable, Bella is a total babe. She's half-black and half-Italian, so she's looks super exotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh is a nice guy and everything, but it is so not going to happen. Bella is pre-med and completely focused on school. I mean she even has classes on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh, on the other hand,  would be a stoner if he was just a little more ambitious.  He says he's on the six-year plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella thinks Josh is nice but says he's definitely not "boyfriend material" Bella says she doesn't want a boyfriend while she's in school, but she's kinda seeing this guy, Bradley, who goes to law school in New York. He's Korean. That's so cool because if they have a baby, it'll totally look like Tiger Woods. Except for the teeth, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They see each other on breaks and stuff, but both say they are too busy to be with each other, which is a total cop out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's cool to have Bella hang out with us. She asks me all the time if she's messing up my action. I told her it's cool, because things were going so fast with Jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't heard from Todd since the moon.  I'm sure he's ok but he usually calls me to brag afterwards about his kill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112743904599136144?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112743904599136144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112743904599136144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112743904599136144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112743904599136144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/bella.html' title='Bella'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112708883453679415</id><published>2005-09-18T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T18:57:32.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Me</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning in a cornfield about five miles from campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not something that you can really prepare for. I try to find a secluded place beforehand, wearing something that I know I'll never see again. But it's not like I can stash money or clothes in advance, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started towards a road and walked parallel to it, looking for anything that I could wrap myself up in. I kept in the corn trying not to be seen by any passersby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A county sheriff's car drove past, I ducked my head down. But it was too late, the car stopped down the road and turned back around. He stopped and called for me to come out of the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ducked my head out, trying to cover as much as myself as I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the hell?" He said. "Wait right there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He popped the trunk open and pulled out a blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't suppose you've got any ID on you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not on drugs, are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You one of those girls from the college?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I've learned is if you speak generally enough, people will fill in their own blanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is one of those sorority pranks, isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've got me," I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess they don't teach common sense up at that school. Now why would you want to belong to any group that would do this to you? All that hazing just to be in some glorified social club is stupid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Besides," he said, " it's dangerous out here. Some people said they saw the panther last night. And a farmer about a mile from here found one of its cattle mutilated."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like I literally had a cow last night.  Sick. I'm not going to eat again for like a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every now and then, people around here claim that they've seen a &lt;a href="http://msgboard.snopes.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?/ubb/get_topic/f/24/t/001119/p/3.html"&gt;panther-like creature&lt;/a&gt;. There have been reports for &lt;a href="http://www.ncf.carleton.ca/%7Ebz050/HomePage.ppan.html"&gt;decades&lt;/a&gt;. Panthers are not exactly indigenous to the Midwest, but people catch glimpses of something strange and the next thing you know, there's a story and it gets passed along. They get some things wrong. Now, whenever people see something unusual, there's another "panther" sighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we know the truth, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sheriff grabbed some spare clothes for me at the station and brought me back to campus in his car. It wouldn't do much for my reputation to be brought back in a police car, would it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I could sleep for a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I didn't miss any good parties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112708883453679415?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112708883453679415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112708883453679415&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112708883453679415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112708883453679415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/back-to-me.html' title='Back to Me'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112700516190541253</id><published>2005-09-17T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T17:59:21.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bitch Is Back</title><content type='html'>I can feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else is in slow motion.  I can have anything that I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I can kick the world's ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling this good, I had to go to the mall.   The GAP was having a sale. I tried on the last autumn rose sweetheart sweater, and let's just say I was working it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put it down on the table where I was going through the half-off cami tops.  Out of nowhere, this girl picks up my sweater and starts walking up to the register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was like, "Hello, that was my sweater."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "You put it down.  It was fair game. Get another one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said "It's the last one, and it's a small, so you might want to go find one that fits you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She flipped me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I flipped.  I snatched the sweater out of her hand.  She called me crazy.  And that was before I bared my teeth at her.  She didn't say anything and high-tailed it out of the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This must be what Tupac used to feel like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112700516190541253?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112700516190541253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112700516190541253&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112700516190541253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112700516190541253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/bitch-is-back.html' title='The Bitch Is Back'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112681764286479224</id><published>2005-09-16T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T09:38:07.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Reasons Todd Sucks</title><content type='html'>5. He likes to hook up with cougars, which are women in their mid 30's and up who go trolling for college guys in bars, because they're both at their " sexual peak." Gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. He thinks he's so profound, like Bono or something, when all he does is repeat stuff he overhears people saying in class.  But he speaks slowly to make his words sound more important. And he always gets stuff mixed up so it makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. He's not exactly Mr. Hygeine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When he has to pee, he goes wherever. Once, he wiped out my mom's azaleas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. He turned me into a werewolf by biting me . . . on my ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112681764286479224?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112681764286479224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112681764286479224&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112681764286479224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112681764286479224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/five-reasons-todd-sucks.html' title='Five Reasons Todd Sucks'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112662641551824308</id><published>2005-09-13T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T08:59:01.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jake</title><content type='html'>After ending my "guy" break, I've been having a great time with Jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so smart. You can just tell he's going to be a successful businessman, like Bill Gates, Donald Trump or Jay-Z. I can totally see him on &lt;em&gt;The Apprentice&lt;/em&gt; some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciate that he's a regular guy. He does all the guy stuff that Todd and I used to make fun of, like watching ESPN, reading &lt;em&gt;Maxim&lt;/em&gt;, and playing videogames. But, you know, I could use a little normalcy right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are starting to get a little deep. I've stayed over his place a couple of times. It's been so hot in the dorms and it's nice to get away from Todd's calls and visits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake asked me to come with him to the road game this weekend. I lied and told him that I'm going home and, besides, I probably wouldn't be very good company. He joked, "that time of the month, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, something like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112662641551824308?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112662641551824308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112662641551824308&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112662641551824308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112662641551824308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/jake.html' title='Jake'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112648960242311568</id><published>2005-09-11T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T18:52:02.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls' Nite Out</title><content type='html'>I decided enough was enough of the boy drama so Bella, Stacie, and I went out last night.  The rules - no boys, no cell phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a bar which had a dance club downstairs.  Several drinks later, we were on the dance floor together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys get all crazy when they see girls (especially &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;slightly&lt;/span&gt; tipsy girls) dancing together. Then they try to crowd in on us. They don't take the hint when I ignore them. The next thing I know, they're trying to grind on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dancing when Stacie tapped me on the shoulder and told me to turn around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok guys, this is for you. Have you ever seen one of those posters that say "Dance like nobody's watching?" Trust me, don't. When I turned around I saw this guy having what looked like a vertical epileptic episode about six inches from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it this way, some women make certain assumptions about a guy when they dance. You don't have to be a great dancer (in fact, it's a strike against you if you're &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too good&lt;/span&gt;). But me seeing you flail away with your arms over your head pretty much eliminates any chance you think you might have had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with the music blasting, I could still hear the sounds of dozens of women's knees slamming together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112648960242311568?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112648960242311568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112648960242311568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112648960242311568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112648960242311568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/girls-nite-out.html' title='Girls&apos; Nite Out'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112628353495538404</id><published>2005-09-09T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T09:35:28.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ya think?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4138/1529/1600/scarlett.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4138/1529/320/scarlett.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started at Barnes and Noble. I had to take down last month's magazines and put the new ones on the shelves. They let me keep this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scarlett has soulful eyes, slightly pronounced eyeteeth, and a husky voice (by far, the favorite side effect of my "condition.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably not, but how cool would that be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112628353495538404?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112628353495538404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112628353495538404&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112628353495538404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112628353495538404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/ya-think.html' title='Ya think?'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112620852779670804</id><published>2005-09-08T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T12:47:54.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, I Know I'm Overthinking This</title><content type='html'>It's too early for me to even start thinking about this but I've been having such a good time hanging out with Jake, that I'm getting confused about where it's all going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not over Todd yet. He hasn't been helping things either, constantly calling and asking to see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got bored in my Classical Myths and Literature class, and so I listed the pros and cons of being with either Jake or Todd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pros:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambitious&lt;br /&gt;Super smart&lt;br /&gt;Cute&lt;br /&gt;Sweet&lt;br /&gt;Not a werewolf&lt;br /&gt;Good sense of humor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cons:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe too much of a "safe choice"&lt;br /&gt;Maybe into me a little too much, too early&lt;br /&gt;Dad would approve of him (not necessarily a good thing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pros:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexy&lt;br /&gt;Intense&lt;br /&gt;Artistic&lt;br /&gt;Exciting&lt;br /&gt;Knows me well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cons:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irresponsible&lt;br /&gt;Unfaithful (Though he promises he's changed. Yeah, right.)&lt;br /&gt;Eats people&lt;br /&gt;Smokes&lt;br /&gt;Knows me &lt;em&gt;too&lt;/em&gt; well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even sure that this list is even helpful. I mean, it's not like everything is equal, you know. I mean, Jake doesn't really have any strong flaws (at least that I know of) but Todd's pros are so strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is being funny as important as being sexy? Isn't smoking worse than being "too safe?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so confusing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112620852779670804?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112620852779670804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112620852779670804&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112620852779670804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112620852779670804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/ok-i-know-im-overthinking-this.html' title='Ok, I Know I&apos;m Overthinking This'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112610173643128264</id><published>2005-09-07T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-07T07:09:30.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kelly Clarkson</title><content type='html'>This is going to sound weird but I totally identify with Kelly Clarkson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was singing (or trying to sing) "Behind These Hazel Eyes" in the shower this morning. I never realized how appropriate the lyrics are to my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Swallow me up, then spit me out&lt;br /&gt;For hating you, I blame myself&lt;br /&gt;Seeing you it kills me now&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't cry on the outside&lt;br /&gt;Anymore . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, once again&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn into pieces&lt;br /&gt;Can't deny it, can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;Just thought you were the one&lt;br /&gt;Broken up, deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But you won't get to see the tears I cry&lt;br /&gt;Behind these hazel eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell the way she sings that song that she has lived every word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I can tell from looking at her that she's in a constant battle to control a hungry, ravenous beast inside her too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112610173643128264?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112610173643128264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112610173643128264&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112610173643128264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112610173643128264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/kelly-clarkson.html' title='Kelly Clarkson'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112605850704213267</id><published>2005-09-06T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T19:33:43.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retail Therapy</title><content type='html'>I got a care package from my Mom today. She sent me a cute pajama set, some chocolate chip cookies (so much for watching what I eat), bath towels, and some bed linen. At the bottom of the box was a small envelope with the following note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey Sweetie!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What your father doesn't know won't hurt us. :)  Try to be a little more responsible this time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love, Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside was a new credit card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom has like a dozen credit cards that my Dad doesn't know about. She says she can write his name better than he can. Once she took out a $20,000 line of credit on the equity on the house and he didn't find out about it for like two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Bella and I went to the mall to break the card in.  I bought some CDs and I got this &lt;a href="http://www.abercrombie.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=10901&amp;storeId=10051&amp;amp;amp;parentCategoryId=12203&amp;childCatgroupId=12839&amp;amp;categoryId=12839&amp;productId=237008&amp;amp;langId=-1"&gt;shirt&lt;/a&gt;.  It seemed appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the devil, Todd called while we were there.  Our conversation went something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hey, pup."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when he calls me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You are such an ass, why did you do that to my door the other night?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Aww, come on.  I was trashed besides it was funny."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"That wasn't funny, Todd.  It was disgusting."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"So where were you anyway?.  I came by at 4:00 and you weren't there."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I was over at Bella's.  It was late and I crashed over there." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said it loud enough so she could hear me just in case he ever asks her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I don't believe you.  I think you were out with another guy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I wasn't. But even if I was it's none of your business."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If I find out you have a new man, I might have to swallow him right up."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I so hope, for your sake, that no one can hear you now, because that probably didn't come out the way you meant it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112605850704213267?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112605850704213267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112605850704213267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112605850704213267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112605850704213267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/retail-therapy.html' title='Retail Therapy'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112595624284551494</id><published>2005-09-05T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T14:41:50.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Date with Jake</title><content type='html'>I recovered from my hangover in time to go out with Jake last night. He had a pretty eventful night yesterday as well, so we decided to take it easy. He came to my dorm and we walked around town. He was such a good sport about tagging along while I bought some stuff for the my room to make it look less like a gulag cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate at Jimmy John's and went back to his apartment to watch some DVDs. I ended up staying a lot later than I planned because his roommate Josh and this guy Dan from across the hall were locked in a Madden football grudge match or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I thought they were finished, they were like "one more game!" It went on for hours, but it was cool though because they were so funny trash talking each other the whole time. They finally finished and Jake put some episodes of Arrested Development in. I hadn't seen that show before, but Jake was going on and on about it that night, so I checked it out. I thought it was funny but a little strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh left with Dan to go to the bar, so Jake and I sat on the couch. Eventually, he moved in. We mashed a little but nothing heavy. It was nice until my cell phone started blowing up. Todd was drunk dialing me like every five minutes. I had to put my phone on silence. I told Jake it was Bella calling me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked the messages in the bathroom listened to Todd, all slurred words, going. "Baby, why won't you call me?" "Where are you?" and "How come you won't talk to me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated hearing him like that, but he's all Mr. Sensitive until he gets what he wants. I'm finally having a nice time without him and he won't leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Jake said I could crash at his place. I didn't want things to move too fast, but he was totally cool about it. He stayed on the couch while I slept in his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back to my room the next morning, I saw that Todd had come by last night. I could tell by the pool of urine outside my door. I can't believe he "marked his territory!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so immature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112595624284551494?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112595624284551494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112595624284551494&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112595624284551494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112595624284551494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-date-with-jake.html' title='My Date with Jake'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112579142978743012</id><published>2005-09-04T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T11:22:32.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hungover</title><content type='html'>I'm really hurting today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game was a blowout by halftime, so we left early to get a jump on the bars. O'Malley's had a special on shots, so I ended up getting totally trashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so trashed that I didn't even feel my cell phone when Jake called (he called!!!). I hope he doesn't think I blew him off. It would have been nice to see him last night, but in my condition, it's not the impression that I'd want to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm never going to get that wasted again. It's just not worth it. I'm not going to touch another drop of alcohol. Well, at least not until Thursday night. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As bad as I feel, it's still better than waking up naked in a park next to a half-eaten German Shepherd.  Gross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112579142978743012?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112579142978743012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112579142978743012&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112579142978743012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112579142978743012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/hungover.html' title='Hungover'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112579228585722981</id><published>2005-09-03T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T17:35:52.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gameday!</title><content type='html'>I got all my books and lugged them around while I looked for a job. I think I might get a job at the Barnes and Noble on Main, which isn't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager there thinks I'm hot. I gave him the full flirt treatment. Hey, he can think I'm going to hook up with him if it gets me the job. But if I get hired, I'll totally remind him about the sexual harassment policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me if I can work nights. I figure they close at 11:00, so if I'm stuck with a night shift I can still go out after work. I did tell him that I couldn't work on the 17th, though, and he said that wouldn't be a problem. It sucks so much the full moon is on a weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacie, Bella, and I went to a party last night with at a house down the street from Bella's apartment. I met this hottie named Jake and ended up talking with him the whole time. He's a senior in finance. He says he's applying for MBA school this fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I thought he was a little too Abercrombie for me. Then I realized I was comparing him to Todd, with his tattoos and piercings. But Jake seems really nice and I deserve to be with a nice guy for a change. I gave him my cell phone number and told him that I was going to be out with the girls tomorrow night. He said he'll give me a call and maybe meet us out. I'm not going to sweat it though. If it happens, it happens. Otherwise, there are thousands of other guys on campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I can't chat for long because Stacie and Bella are going to be here any minute and we're heading to the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112579228585722981?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112579228585722981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112579228585722981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112579228585722981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112579228585722981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/gameday.html' title='Gameday!'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112568116193321201</id><published>2005-09-02T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T10:31:08.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things To Do</title><content type='html'>I have two tasks today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Buy my books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Look for a job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe my dad is making me get a job this year. He just about had a conniption when he saw the balance on my credit card at the end of last year. He said I was only supposed to use it for emergencies. I only used it for emergencies. It's just that our definitions of emergencies are different. His doesn't include shoe sales. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what the big deal is. It's not like we don't have money. But he says that I have to learn to be responsible. I told him that no one is supposed to be responsible in college. We have the rest of our lives for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so mad about the credit cards that he told me that I couldn't live off-campus this year. So I'm stuck in the dorm with the nerds and losers. Plus, what am I supposed to eat. I can't eat that dorm food or I'll be packing on the lbs. for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's bad enough that I pretty much have to starve myself all the time anyway because when I turn into The Bitch, it seems like I'm always chowing down on the fatties. Maybe it's because they're easier to catch. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I ever eat someone like Nicole Richie? (plus, I'd be doing the world a favor. Hee, hee)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I always end up snacking on some guy who couldn't push himself away from the sundae bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People like that always go straight to my hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112568116193321201?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112568116193321201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112568116193321201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112568116193321201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112568116193321201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/things-to-do.html' title='Things To Do'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16201223.post-112566875469025999</id><published>2005-09-01T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T09:14:12.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Everybody!</title><content type='html'>I'm so excited about classes starting up. I'm not a geek or anything, but I'm looking forward to being back on campus this year and meeting new people. I am so going to play the field this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I wasted my whole freshman year with Todd. HE IS SUCH A LIAR!!! He said that he would never cheat on me, but he was totally scamming on my friends behind my back. He told me he was going to quit smoking but he never did. And he never said anything about being a werewolf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's like they say, "You lie down with werewolves, you wake up with fleas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, he kinda passed on his lycanthropy to me. We used protection, duh. But condoms don't protect you from werewolf bites. Anyway, it's not like they cover this stuff in health class. And lycanthropy is one of those things that you can't get rid of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not all bad though. When I change into a wolf, I'm pretty much impervious to harm. So yay, me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so going to party this year! I cannot wait until Saturday's game!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16201223-112566875469025999?l=theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/feeds/112566875469025999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16201223&amp;postID=112566875469025999&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112566875469025999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16201223/posts/default/112566875469025999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theanonymouswerewolf.blogspot.com/2005/09/hello-everybody.html' title='Hello, Everybody!'/><author><name>Anonymous Werewolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16654607874081359188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/33/7732/640/anonymous.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
