<?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-6272505086336010733</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:55:36.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales From Modern Society</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-1738847862367763198</id><published>2008-05-19T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T11:44:40.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moved.</title><content type='html'>I've moved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find me at Livejournal.&lt;br /&gt;Username: goeffingsuckit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you guys there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-1738847862367763198?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/1738847862367763198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=1738847862367763198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/1738847862367763198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/1738847862367763198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2008/05/moved.html' title='Moved.'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-3840116833859554094</id><published>2008-02-09T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T19:47:49.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hideout</title><content type='html'>I think I'm at a point in my life where I can think about is winning and losing. Is there any in between? Maybe. There are brief moments where that grey area comes into play; and then, that becomes the only I can think about...if only for those brief moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This obsession has soon morphed itself into an obsession with living and all the strings that come attached with this concept. If not this, what else should I become obsessed with? Isn't this embedded into all our genes? There's just no way to beat life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dealing with people is stressful. It's not a personal thing, but perhaps more of a situational thing. Some events have triggered these feelings to surface in my mind, and all I can think of is how to get rid of the stimulant. I just want to escape. After ridding myself of the stressor, all I can think about is the consequences that follow. What if this, what if that. And supposedly, this is all a bunch of psychological bullshit that my mind whipped up, then how the hell did I arrive here? I think I need to learn how to get rid of these horrid aftereffects as well. They're driving me insane; it's like having tunnel vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, people who are sad sleep more.&lt;br /&gt;And all I want to do is sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-3840116833859554094?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/3840116833859554094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=3840116833859554094' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3840116833859554094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3840116833859554094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2008/02/hideout.html' title='Hideout'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-5074139612898371798</id><published>2007-12-03T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T21:18:33.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like to make lists with asterisks.</title><content type='html'>As the end of the year is approaching, I find that I have once again transformed dramatically as a person. At times, I wonder why I reflect so much on myself. Is it because I like myself too much, I have too much time on my hands or I don't like myself at all? I figure it's probably a mixture of all three. Nevertheless, I generally lay in my bed every night staring mindlessly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and patiently listen as the jumble in my brain begin to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes our conversations go like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jumble: Glo, why are you a bad person?&lt;br /&gt;Glo: I'm not, you asshole. Go away.&lt;br /&gt;Jumble: Then why do you hate yourself so much?&lt;br /&gt;Glo: I don't know. Maybe it's because I have fat thighs. Or something.&lt;br /&gt;Jumble: Haha, fatass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I would get up from my bed, turn on my neon blue reading light and stare at the full length mirror in front of my closet. I would just kind of stare at the person in the mirror, and wonder why the U.S. currency is going down so rapidly. The Western economies in the world are quickly being dominated by Asian economies, which in turn puts an enormous amount of pressure on the people of the former leading world powers. The U.S.'s consumption of and demand for products are still at a high, even though our economy is gradually icing up. Thank you, President George W. Bush. The real estate market has hit a new low since he took up the presidency; and as most of us know, real estate is one of the most stable markets out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why I like to think about these things before I go to sleep. I feel like instead of tangling myself into economics before I go to bed, I should be fantasizing about the next time I get laid. Speaking of getting some, I've been on a drought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I don't like my new haircut. I miss my long mess of tangly hair. And how I can throw it back suggestively when I see a potential 4-star. This whole Glo-is-going-to-be-single-till-she's-30 thing isn't really working for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that I sometimes like but not really but kind of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*modern Buddhism&lt;br /&gt;*drugs&lt;br /&gt;*the smell of cat food&lt;br /&gt;*dresses that look great on the rack, but look like shit on you&lt;br /&gt;*dresses that look like shit on the rack, but look great on you&lt;br /&gt;*baby pandas&lt;br /&gt;*chicken teriyaki&lt;br /&gt;*babysitting&lt;br /&gt;*my parents&lt;br /&gt;*school&lt;br /&gt;*art projects&lt;br /&gt;*sleep&lt;br /&gt;*television&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...this list will go on forever. Fuck, I can never make a point. What the heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-5074139612898371798?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/5074139612898371798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=5074139612898371798' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/5074139612898371798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/5074139612898371798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-like-to-make-lists-with-asterisks.html' title='I like to make lists with asterisks.'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-4548350525952348653</id><published>2007-11-06T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:21:25.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Society's indecency at its best.</title><content type='html'>It seems to me as if the human intelligence of the western world has gone downhill. Shocking as that sounds, I would like to point out a few major media events that has boggled my mind for quite awhile now:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The existence of the High School Musical series. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.juniorcelebs.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/zac_efron_on_rolling_stone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 228px;" src="http://www.juniorcelebs.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/zac_efron_on_rolling_stone.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would just like to ask, how and WHY has this become such a craze for American youth today? Everywhere I go, I see the faces of the cast of High School Musical and yet what have they done to deserve this fame? It's true that this question can be applied to almost any celebrity that grazes the face of the planet today, but seriously, how the hell did these randomers from HSM get on the covers of Rolling Stone and monopoly games? I was thoroughly outraged when I received my cover of Rolling Stone not long ago, and BAM! there is Zac Efron on the cover of one of the most prized music magazines of our age. Call me a snob or a bitch all you want, but when I paid for that subscription, I expected to get Rolling Stone, and instead I got Tiger Beat. What on earth was HE famous for again? Dating his female co-stars? Having weekly tanning bed lie-ins?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.petacatalog.org/images/300-STU228.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 201px;" src="http://www.petacatalog.org/images/300-STU228.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. PETA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go off on this subject, I would just like to say that I'm against animal cruelty as much as the next person, and would love to save every little fuzzy animal if I could. Anyways, as time goes on, PETA seems to be getting ultra commercialized and manufactured. Why are they using all these celebrities to promote? Are real people not good enough? I mean, we're the ones that are in the backdrop saving the world, for god's sake. Aside from that, on the PETA2 website, it lists tons of celebrity stuff giveaways and contests; so, if I don't eat chicken for a week I get to meet Aiden at Taste of Chaos UK? Or does it mean that if I stay away from beef for a few days I win a new Gibson Les Paul? Oh, oh, I know, I'll stick those fricking "I'm Not a Nugget" stickers all over myself and I might get a chance to win a signed poster from The Used!&lt;br /&gt;...wait, is this about saving those poor little animals or winning free shit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Finding true love on reality TV. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mixlabmedia.com/blog/images/iloveny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.mixlabmedia.com/blog/images/iloveny.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, Rock of Love with Bret Michaels, I Love New York 1 &amp;amp; 2, Flavor of Love...and the list goes on. Right. All these pseudo celebrities are trying to find "true love" on reality TV; uh...WHAT? This is probably the ultimate degradation of one's image. We now know that Tila Tequila is a bisexual (major TMI), New York (aka Tiffany) likes to flash her thong-cladded ass at people she's pissed off at (Lord, save us), Bret Michaels is a diabetic who likes to be associated with strippers, and Flava Flav is turned on by basically anything with legs. And yet, Americans love this kind of thing. We take in every ounce of trash that is reality TV and render it the truth. It's quite amazing how gullible human beings are when it comes things that stretches the limits of our self-respect and integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://image.orientaltrading.com/otcimg/70_47271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 195px;" src="http://image.orientaltrading.com/otcimg/70_47271.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Disney Channel today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thinking about this makes me want to cry tears of endless sorrow. Honestly, what happened to Mickey Mouse and friends? Adventures of Winnie the Pooh? Classic princess fairytales? In the place of all that are irritating shows about pre-teen superstars and unrealistic portrayals of high school life. Disney channel is now the launching pad for kids who'll, in a few years, become the avid watchers of the reality TV shows listed in #3. Not only does the channel produce these nonsensical TV shows, but it pushes out these young, superficial musical "artists" that are supposedly the projection of our future music scene. If that's the case, then the younger generation of today has no chance in hell to learn how to truly understand and appreciate music. In addition, society seems to support this dumbing down of the intelligence of our future generations. With Hannah Montana handbags and hairclips lining the shelves of every major retail store, so it's not as easy to get away from all this as we think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time that we as human beings re-evaluate our priorities and intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that most of you who have gotten to this point are either applauding or typing up life-threatening hatemail to me, and I welcome all of that. You can also email me at glo0314@gmail.com or IM me at OhboyItsGlo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have other topics you would like me to write about next time, feel free to post it as a comment or send me an email. I'm not as big a flaming bitchface as you imagine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-4548350525952348653?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/4548350525952348653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=4548350525952348653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/4548350525952348653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/4548350525952348653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2007/11/societys-indecency-at-its-best.html' title='Society&apos;s indecency at its best.'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-3460541050085059111</id><published>2007-07-14T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T21:05:02.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Oh really? I had no idea."</title><content type='html'>You see, too many people say this phrase; usually it is said with a thick coat of sarcasm. It's amazing how overused it is. Maybe for once people sould actually say it and mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, don't lie! You KNOW! The whole fucking world knows. Don't even try to pretend. Why do we say this? Is it to piss others off or what? I'm sure that's why we say it so much. It won't hurt if you just shut up and keep that comment to yourself. Because guess what, no one cares! No one gives a FLYING FUCK what you know! Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On kind of a side note, I'm not directing this towards anyone specific. I'm just a bit irritated with myself and how my emotions are a bit unbalanced right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess many people prefer to hear the truth. Just the direct, clean-cut truth. That's what I kept telling myself. I thought I could handle it every time, but I never can. I lied when I said I can handle it and it's easy to wave off the sharp, quick jab of pain the moment the truth hits you. But then you go home and curl up on your bed, and that hurricane wave of rejection and hurt just rushes through you. And you don't know how to handle it, and you're feeling guilty and hypocritical for not being able to deal with it. We're all only human afterall, I've been running away from the truth for so long, and I thought that was just me being strong. Apparently, that's not the case because all of it just comes back and hits you. HARD. All of it at once. And you realize that you have nowhere else to run anymore. You've hit a wall and it just hurts. It hurts so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-3460541050085059111?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/3460541050085059111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=3460541050085059111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3460541050085059111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3460541050085059111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2007/07/oh-really-i-had-no-idea.html' title='&quot;Oh really? I had no idea.&quot;'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-7923074557706309113</id><published>2007-01-28T14:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T14:16:01.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'>iced green tea latte</title><content type='html'>so i'm sitting @ starbucks right now lamely attempting to study for my psych exam that happens tomorrow. my attempt has failed, seeing that i'm currently on blogger. psh, i loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weather has been quite shitty this week, so much for california. well, norcal anyway. i'm also at the moment carless, since i totally fucked up my car about 3 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;Life: 1&lt;br /&gt;Glo: 0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woohoo.&lt;br /&gt;the man up there is totally wooping my ass in this round of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last week was really rough, hopefully, things will start to look up this week. my mum isn't acting up that much anymore, so i'm temporarily out of her reign of terror. she's coming home next week though. argh. argh. poo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been meaning to write this though.&lt;br /&gt;to all the bloggers in the world: give your parents a break, they're trying their best.&lt;br /&gt;i know there are tons of exceptions and stuff, but still. give them a break and let your angst rest for a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-7923074557706309113?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/7923074557706309113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=7923074557706309113' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/7923074557706309113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/7923074557706309113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2007/01/iced-green-tea-latte.html' title='iced green tea latte'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-5239291158507860627</id><published>2007-01-06T20:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T20:22:09.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>another one of my blubs.</title><content type='html'>It's me again.&lt;br /&gt;My thoart hurts and I'm a little tired. I feel a little restless, but really exhausted at the same time. I have an urge to go out and do something, but not really. currently sitting on my bed watching law&amp;amp;order:svu and typing on le laptop. life is getting a little uninteresting at the moment...i should go update my resume and prepare to find a new job.&lt;br /&gt;gargh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this sucks. every time i feel like writing a blog, i don't know what to say. but i know i have so much to say. i swear. i'm just not talking rubbish here, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who reads this anyway? really. i can type anything and post anything. ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-5239291158507860627?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/5239291158507860627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=5239291158507860627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/5239291158507860627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/5239291158507860627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2007/01/another-one-of-my-blubs.html' title='another one of my blubs.'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-88424443270848385</id><published>2006-12-29T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T11:25:21.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair cutted today!</title><content type='html'>hello, world.&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure why i'm updating right now, since i don't actually head over to my hairstylist's until two hours later. and i'm not updating becos i'm bored, since technically, i have a million things hanging over my head waiting for me to do. MY MUM NEEDS TO LEAVE ME ALONE!!!1!!11! ROAWRRRRRRRR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myspace is getting a little lame. or maybe it's just the font. times new roman is amazingly fugly, it's like looking at a pink-assed alien llama baby eat rotting chicken feet. - i don't even know how i came up with that. how sad. i think i shall venture into thrift shops again today and continue where i left off yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;boohoo. i'm not sure what i want to write at the moment. more updates tonight! perhaps something exciting will happen after i get out of my PJs and actually head out into the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-88424443270848385?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/88424443270848385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=88424443270848385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/88424443270848385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/88424443270848385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2006/12/hair-cutted-today.html' title='Hair cutted today!'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6272505086336010733.post-3321158781420694119</id><published>2006-12-28T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T22:45:27.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First post, yo.</title><content type='html'>blogggggerrrr.&lt;br /&gt;i think i'll start posting here from now on. the myspace blogs are a bit lame.&lt;br /&gt;yay they have better font here. and i can type without capitals and shit without wanting to kill myself. i think it's cos the font here is so pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm lame.&lt;br /&gt;more next time, kittens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c70/eeyoreismypet/Starbucks%2007-14-06/fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6272505086336010733-3321158781420694119?l=modernexistentialism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/feeds/3321158781420694119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6272505086336010733&amp;postID=3321158781420694119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3321158781420694119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6272505086336010733/posts/default/3321158781420694119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modernexistentialism.blogspot.com/2006/12/first-post-yo.html' title='First post, yo.'/><author><name>Gloria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001028191071212099</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w282/whatthefreakk/IMG_5166.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c70/eeyoreismypet/Starbucks%2007-14-06/th_fire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
