<?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-8274522642762774161</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:10:03.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INK AND INCAPABILITY</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-5071330068275094474</id><published>2007-03-09T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:01:54.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So I moved blogs</title><content type='html'>Well, everyone who requested the new address has got it and I'm now up  and running (if you want the new address, give me an email and I'll send  it to you). It's exactly like the blog here, only it's not here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-5071330068275094474?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/5071330068275094474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/03/so-i-moved-blogs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/5071330068275094474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/5071330068275094474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/03/so-i-moved-blogs.html' title='So I moved blogs'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-2923974745427741815</id><published>2006-10-26T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:16:33.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Guys, I'm deleting my post "&lt;a href="http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/06/naked-women-sex-obviously.html"&gt;Naked Women = Sex (obviously)&lt;/a&gt;". So it's your last chance to read it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Since  posting it I've been getting shit loads of hits for "naked women",  "fucking naked women" "naked women fucking lesbians" etc etc (no  surprises of course), but it literally is getting on my nerves now.  Especially as I'm having loads of "naked women in pain porn", which  really isn't very nice at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's irritating me. So it's coming down tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-2923974745427741815?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/2923974745427741815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/last-chance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/2923974745427741815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/2923974745427741815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/last-chance.html' title='Last Chance'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-3536148876782132616</id><published>2006-10-25T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:32:59.627-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meme</title><content type='html'>As seen at &lt;a href="http://downthetrodden.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jesse's&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://luckybuzzz.blogspot.com/index.html"&gt;LB's&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU SNORE?&lt;br /&gt;It's been known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?&lt;br /&gt;Honestly cannot decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC?&lt;br /&gt;Heh, it was alreet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF “REALITY” TV?&lt;br /&gt;I take it the author of this meme dosn't rate it too highly. A little less of the "bunny ears", eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?&lt;br /&gt;I chew anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WERE YOU A CUTE BABY?&lt;br /&gt;I was born with a fringer like Hitler's. So no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU?&lt;br /&gt;What a question. Am not tempting fate by answering either way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?&lt;br /&gt;Cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?&lt;br /&gt;Not generally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANY SECRET TALENTS?&lt;br /&gt;Well, kinda-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT’S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT?&lt;br /&gt;Wish I hadn't started this meme, it's shit. Ideal vacation. Under Boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU SWIM?&lt;br /&gt;I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE DONNIE DARKO?&lt;br /&gt;Haven't even heard of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE OZONE?&lt;br /&gt;Well it's a funny thing. I care enough to.... do you know, I do fuck all actually. No, I recycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP?&lt;br /&gt;Anyone thinking of that Lil Kim song right now, "How many licks does it take to get to the centre of the (oh....)"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS?&lt;br /&gt;Can I SING it? Why 'sing' it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU PREFER ELECTRIC OR MANUAL PENCIL SHARPENER?&lt;br /&gt;Last time I used a pencil..... no, can't remember.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT’S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING?&lt;br /&gt;Against it, but dude, they should NOT have made it illegal. That was off, that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I like to think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?&lt;br /&gt;Noooooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO?&lt;br /&gt;Coca Cola. Doesn't stop me though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, “I LOVE YOU” ?&lt;br /&gt;Couple of hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS?&lt;br /&gt;Depressing fact: been to more young peope's funerals than weddings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS?&lt;br /&gt;Smashed on John Prescott's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE BLONDES DUMB?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP?&lt;br /&gt;Sacrificed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT TIME IS IT?&lt;br /&gt;17.14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?&lt;br /&gt;Aye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS MCDONALD’S DISGUSTING?&lt;br /&gt;It's prices are. No, that's Burger King, isn't it?  Ooh, I'm going through such a burger phase at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR?&lt;br /&gt;An hour ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS?&lt;br /&gt;Baths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS SANTA CLAUS REAL?&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't have thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED?&lt;br /&gt;Mmmm, neck kissing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?&lt;br /&gt;When I'm stressed I'm unnerved, but not afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO?&lt;br /&gt;Nowt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER?&lt;br /&gt;Creamy. No, crunchy. Crunchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK?&lt;br /&gt;Only by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever ridden ON an ambulance? That's more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, fuck off. I don't take drugs like that but that makes me want to snort cocaine off the screen. That would be a challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER?&lt;br /&gt;Can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?&lt;br /&gt;Red. Been at the pute too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE?&lt;br /&gt;Aye, it's canny enough innit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE YOU PSYCHIC?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU READ CATCHER IN THE RYE?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but I was too old for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS?&lt;br /&gt;Piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN MONEY?&lt;br /&gt;Ages ago. I was very poor (that's bollocks, I just used to be a cunt when a young teenager)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU SNOWBOARD?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU LIKE CAMPING?&lt;br /&gt;Hell fucking no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU SNORT WHEN YOU LAUGH?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?&lt;br /&gt;Magical thinking.... hell yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARE DOGS A MAN’S BEST FRIEND?&lt;br /&gt;Mine isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE?&lt;br /&gt;It's not the fucking tooth fairy, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK?&lt;br /&gt;I remember trying to do it forwards once...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU MAKE A LOT OF MISTAKES?&lt;br /&gt;I don't ever make mistkaes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY?&lt;br /&gt;It's actually colder inside, and am not trying to be funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?&lt;br /&gt;Greggs Pasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU LIKE RIGHT NOW?&lt;br /&gt;Ah, loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT’S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL?&lt;br /&gt;Not really bothered, actually, no, the Woolworths one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU SHOP AT AMERICAN EAGLE?&lt;br /&gt;Not knowingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG AT THE MOMENT?&lt;br /&gt;Dumb, 411.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT’S YOUR WORST FEAR?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sharing my weakness, are you kidding me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-3536148876782132616?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/3536148876782132616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/10/meme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/3536148876782132616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/3536148876782132616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/10/meme.html' title='Meme'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-6211911224966110364</id><published>2006-10-25T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:33:41.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I just say?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Filling out loan forms fucking does my head in. My. God. Absolute &lt;i&gt;purgatory&lt;/i&gt;. Am so tempted just to go to bed right now..... so tempted..... would it be wrong? Would it be so wrong?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Updated:  so I did go to bed. And have just woken up with that  slept-in-the-afternoon feeling: headache, sicky and guilty. Very guilty.  Thanks a lot, &lt;a href="http://loraleeslooneytunes.blogspot.com/"&gt;LC&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-6211911224966110364?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/6211911224966110364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/10/can-i-just-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/6211911224966110364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/6211911224966110364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2007/10/can-i-just-say.html' title='Can I just say?'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-126322874444128499</id><published>2006-10-24T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:35:14.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I will never complain about public transport again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Man Whore gave me a lift home from town today  following our wee shopping trip. First time I've been in a car since,  God, I have no idea.... But yeah. I will never complain about public  transport again because:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Buses don't  overpower passengers with the smell of whiskey from when whiskey was  stored for an early morning pick-me-up but was accidently knocked over  by Man Whore in his sleep. No, I don't get it either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Bus drivers don't shout "Well move then you fat wankahhhhhhh" really suddenly, frightening the hell out of the passenger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Bus drivers don't travel down the motorway at 95 mph when the speed limit is 70 mph and the car's limit is 50 mph.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Bus drivers don't maintain said speed through "Caution! Men at Work!" signs with absolutely no regard for the men at work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Buses won't do a 40 minute journey in 15 minutes. Yep. 15 minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-126322874444128499?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/126322874444128499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/why-i-will-never-complain-about-public.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/126322874444128499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/126322874444128499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/why-i-will-never-complain-about-public.html' title='Why I will never complain about public transport again'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-8430464751075433242</id><published>2006-10-23T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:26:36.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That is a delight</title><content type='html'>As seen at &lt;a href="http://propterdoc.blogspot.com/index.html"&gt;Propter Doc's &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://whatis-wrong-withyou.blogspot.com/"&gt;Brazen's&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(129, 172, 201); padding: 0pt 0pt 5px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 3px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://web.archive.org/web/20061027050846/http://images.quizilla.com/R/redshoecult/1044341243_turesQUIZl.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will swallow some tacks. You are a little weird, maybe not so much in a good way. Buy a yellow tie and wear it on your head.&lt;br /&gt;Take this &lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20061027050846/http://quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=17&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/redshoecult/quizzes/What+horrible+Edward+Gorey+Death+will+you+die%3F" style="color: black;" target="quizilla"&gt;quiz&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20061027050846/http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=18&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/" target="quizilla"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://web.archive.org/web/20061027050846/http://www.quizilla.com/images/codepastes/30qzlogo.gif" style="padding: 2px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=18&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com" style="color: black;" target="quizilla"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=21&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/register" style="color: black;" target="quizilla"&gt;Join&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=20&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/makeaquiz.php" style="color: black;" target="quizilla"&gt;Make A Quiz&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=42&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/redshoecult/quizzes/" target="quizilla"&gt;More Quizzes&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=19&amp;amp;url=http://www.quizilla.com/codepastes/?quizid=41545" style="color: black;" target="quizilla"&gt;Grab Code&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-8430464751075433242?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/8430464751075433242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/that-is-delight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/8430464751075433242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/8430464751075433242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/that-is-delight.html' title='That is a delight'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-3232420779310045501</id><published>2006-10-22T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:29:13.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Boss: a largely pointless ramble with no definite conclusion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This time last week, hell, 8.54am Tuesday morning,  who would have thought I would have a brand new boss? A brand new boss  to impress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, fine, having a new boss is  invigorating, of course it is. But damn, when am given actual cash to  look good, well, pressure's on to look pretty damn hot tomorrow. That  scares me. Furthermore, am going through a dry spell regarding selling  store cards. This is bad. Very very fucking seriously bad. Need at least  3 tomorrow to make an impression. Haven't had 3 all week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So,  tomorrow's goal: 3 store cards, 1 (at least) outfit sold for over £150  (a week before payday...) and catch at least one shoplifter. All whilst  smiling and looking shit hot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You know when  you feel that this really just isn't your life? Urgh.... could ponder  more but need to take rollers out and finish reading Vogue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Besides.  Got to be positive or I'll communicate negative energies to those I  encounter and no outfits or store cards will be sold.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And I have met the new boss. He seems nice. He does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It'll  be fine! But really my friends, this just doesn't seem like my life. I  had such high hopes. Accepted for MA in geet big elitist uni, and I am  doing this. Yah. Heh. Stay tuned... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(Tomorrow  can guarantee I will be radiating positivity and happiness - not cos am  confident that I'll pull it all off, though well I might, but because  I've scheduled sex. They say that's the kiss of death to one's sex life,  but I happen to disagree)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Updated: Good start for the new boss: he called in sick. Nice. Won't work with him 'til Wednesday now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-3232420779310045501?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/3232420779310045501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/new-boss-largely-pointless-ramble-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/3232420779310045501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/3232420779310045501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/new-boss-largely-pointless-ramble-with.html' title='New Boss: a largely pointless ramble with no definite conclusion'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-1230300397284834038</id><published>2006-10-22T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:27:29.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My dog is so fucking disgusting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've just witnessed him puking whilst eating cat  biscuits really fast before the cats got them. Following my Sunday  lunch, well, really really fucking vomit inducing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyone else got a more fucking rank dog?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-1230300397284834038?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/1230300397284834038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-dog-is-so-fucking-disgusting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/1230300397284834038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/1230300397284834038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-dog-is-so-fucking-disgusting.html' title='My dog is so fucking disgusting'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-7734434749263424218</id><published>2006-10-22T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:29:58.222-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How many days will it be...</title><content type='html'>....before I am properly poorly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This morning  decided to go for a wee walk down by the river. It was a last moment  thing, was actually just going to grab The Telegraph and head home, but I  thought no, I'll have a wee walk. Despite, oh yes, wearing my work  shoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Unperturbed by gathering clouds I took this walk. And grand it was. And then the deluge. Absolute deluge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So,  I tried my best to get home, I really did, but I was confronted with  the stream. I only had a few options: 1) Jump over the stream, slip in  the mud most likely and break something or 2) Walk up the stream and get  on to the road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, the rain was coming  down fast, and the mud was really really deep. Deep as in suck you in  deep. I couldn't go back the way I came because the mud was making  fairly dangerous and I had no wish to drown in it or the river, so I  walked up the stream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In my work shoes? Hell fucking no, I wear them every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nope, I did it barefoot. I really had no other option.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So how long will it be before I get the flu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-7734434749263424218?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/7734434749263424218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/how-many-days-will-it-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/7734434749263424218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/7734434749263424218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/how-many-days-will-it-be.html' title='How many days will it be...'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-5139223015120368121</id><published>2006-10-19T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:30:39.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Britain Needs You!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, I said I'd delete this because paranoia. But no, am deleting it cos I feel like a total cock end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But, have rang and all is well. I went with no money. Which, actually, is true. But not THAT true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just  occurred to me, as of tomorrow I have a brand new boss. Really going to  have to impress Big Style. Hmmm.... will ponder and blog later. Until  then, Man Whore calls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cheers for your help though, guys! xxx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-5139223015120368121?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/5139223015120368121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/britain-needs-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/5139223015120368121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/5139223015120368121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/britain-needs-you.html' title='Britain Needs You!'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-6691565433764702970</id><published>2006-10-03T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T08:51:10.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On fancying the Man Whore a little tiny bit when he wears my suspenders</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;How's that for a blog post title, huh? Wonder what google searches will bring.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yes, Man Whore. Man Whore, who have blogged about once or twice (he's not actually a Man Whore, but he will be a &lt;strike&gt;Man Whore&lt;/strike&gt;  male escort very soon), is dressing up as Frank N Furter from Rocky  Horror Picture Show on Saturday for a Halloween party (fuck knows what  I'm wearing). He's wearing J's fishnets, my suspenders, Sh's basque, my  jewelery and mine and J's make-up. We're meeting tomorrow to get him  high heels and leather kecks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tell me, dear  readers, why I find it disarmingly erotic, the idea of Man Whore,  straight as a die Man Whore, in my suspenders? Hm? I would not wish  Boyfriend in such a get up. That is quite certain. So why? What is this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well,  we talked about it in the pub. Not about me wanting to shag Man Whore  in said clothing, but about women fancying Eddie Izzard. No great  insights. Best conclusion was "cos you can talk about make up and shit,  and lasses like that sort of patter". Which really isn't it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So what is it? It's a thinker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;* DISCLAIMER: I have no plans on shagging Man Whore. *&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-6691565433764702970?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/6691565433764702970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/on-fancying-man-whore-little-tiny-bit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/6691565433764702970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/6691565433764702970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/10/on-fancying-man-whore-little-tiny-bit.html' title='On fancying the Man Whore a little tiny bit when he wears my suspenders'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-4961225818812601095</id><published>2006-09-05T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:38:05.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm uninspired</title><content type='html'>This meme was found during an extended blog-surfing session (you have no  idea how much I have wasted today). Happily, I have noticed that half  the questions are missing AFTER I finished filling in the fucker. That  makes it the most pointless bastard meme ever found in the blogosphere.&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I'm not bitter. Hat-tip to &lt;a href="http://joyfulmayhem.blogspot.com/"&gt;Joyful Mayhem&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. 4th grade teacher's name:&lt;/strong&gt;I honestly honestly cannot remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Last words you said to dad:&lt;/strong&gt;“Fuck off to Australia, then.” And then he did. Two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Last song you sang:&lt;/strong&gt;'Case of the Ex' by Mya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Last person you hugged:&lt;/strong&gt;My lad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Last thing you laughed at:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  morning, when my drinking buddy called my friend "an upright pig",  blamed the decline of the Sunderland ship industry on him and then said,  "I'm going to do a DNA test on your family, that'll wipe the smile off  your face". His insults far more inventive than mine, I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Last time you said I don't remember?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before. 4th Year teacher thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Last time you cried:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday tears were shed, but I'd hardly call it crying. More not getting my own way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. What color socks are you wearing:&lt;/strong&gt;I'm barefoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. What's under your bed:&lt;/strong&gt;Oh, just stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. What time did you wake up today:&lt;/strong&gt;10.30 (what? Day off!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. Current Taste:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garlic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. Current hair:&lt;/strong&gt;Fucking desperate to be straightened. It's actually matted at the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. Current annoyance:&lt;/strong&gt;You know, you put me on the spot and my mind goes blank!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. Current longing:&lt;/strong&gt;That I wasn't so damn restless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17. Current desktop picture?:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20061027051124/http://img105.echo.cx/img105/8826/biancaguessunk4a9yj.jpg"&gt;The header on my blog.&lt;/a&gt; Am so loving Ellen Von Unwerth at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;26. If you could play any instrument:&lt;/strong&gt;Wish I could play the piano better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27. Favorite colors:&lt;/strong&gt;Grey and blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;29. How tall are you:&lt;/strong&gt;5'10''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30. Current favorite word/saying:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yee know too much"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;31. Favorite book:&lt;/strong&gt;Fed up with being asked that just as much as your fed up with reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;32. favorite season:&lt;/strong&gt;Autumn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;36. What is your career going to be like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking mint. What my career is going to BE however, I'm not so sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;37. How many kids do you want:&lt;/strong&gt;Can't make me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*HAVE YOU EVER...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;39. Said "I love you" and meant it:&lt;/strong&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;40. Gotten in a fight with your dog/cat/bird/fish:&lt;/strong&gt;No, but Boyfriend tried to stare out a squirrel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;41. Been to New York:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;42. Been to Canada:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;43. Been to California:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;44. Been to Hawaii:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;45. Been to Mexico:&lt;/strong&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;46. Been to China:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;48. Dreamed something really crazy and then it happened the next day:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;52. Do you have a crush on someone:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;53. What book are you reading now:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;55. What is the first thing you think when you wake in the morning:&lt;/strong&gt;Really have no idea. Does anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;56. How many rings before you answer:&lt;/strong&gt;However long it takes to get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;57. Future daughter's names:&lt;/strong&gt;Chlamydia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;58. Future son's names:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malcom (that'll teach 'em to be born)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;59. What do you sleep with:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing if I can help it. That sounds terrible in light of the previous post! Ah, but it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;61. Where are you:&lt;/strong&gt;Desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;62. Where do you wish you were:&lt;/strong&gt;Underneath Boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;63. Piercings:&lt;/strong&gt;ears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;64. Tattoos:&lt;/strong&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*THE EXTRA STUFF*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;67. What kind of Shampoo and Conditioner do you use:&lt;/strong&gt;Pantene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;69. What clothes do you sleep in:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nowt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;70. Who is the last person that called you:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;71. Where do you want to get married:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't  really mind, actually. We've had this chat. We're not arsed. I think we  just want to be married and not have to be arsed with actually getting  married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;72. If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be:&lt;/strong&gt;Be a bit tidier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;73. Hate:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[see most if not all entries of this blog]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;74. Been In Love:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;75. Are you timely or always late:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deliberately late. Hate being kept waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;76. Do you have a job:&lt;/strong&gt;I do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;77. Do you like being around people:&lt;/strong&gt;Heh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;78. Best feeling in the world:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The penny dropping with something dead dead hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;80. Are you a health freak:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh aye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;82. Are u lonely right now:&lt;/strong&gt;"u"? And no, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;THE LAST 48 HOURS, HAVE YOU...*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;87. puked:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;88. Bought something:&lt;/strong&gt;Cat litter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;89. Gotten Sick:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;90. Sang:&lt;/strong&gt;Yes (Case of the Ex)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;91. Said I Love You:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;92. Talked To A Friend You Havent Seen In A While:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;94. Moved On:&lt;/strong&gt;From this never ending meme I wish I hadn't started? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;95. Talked To Someone:&lt;/strong&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;96. Had a serious talk:&lt;/strong&gt;Yes, Boyfriend re. job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;97. Missed Someone:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;98. Hugged Someone:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;99. Yelled at Someone:&lt;/strong&gt;Bound to have... The dog I think. Must have done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;100. Dreamed About Someone You Can't Be With:&lt;/strong&gt;I did as it happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-4961225818812601095?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/4961225818812601095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/09/because-im-uninspired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/4961225818812601095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/4961225818812601095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/09/because-im-uninspired.html' title='Because I&apos;m uninspired'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274522642762774161.post-558860673458323043</id><published>2006-09-01T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T09:36:07.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so excited!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And again I'm being a blog tease. You know when I  said last week I was going to do something exciting? Well we half did  it. I think that it should be done today! BUT I swear whether it happens  or not, I will update today when I get home. Promise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Updated!!  Yeah baby! I'm updating and we did the exciting thing! We officially  got engaged! My and Boyfriend, I mean. We got a proper ring with a  diamond and he asked me to marry him!&lt;br /&gt;Thing is, it's always been  understood that we were going to eventually marry. We did agree to it a  while ago, but we never did the ring thing. In fact, I always wore a  ring he found God knows where for a sort of 'for now' ring. He said last  week perhaps we could think about getting a proper one. And we did! And  he did the whole "will you marry me?" which I wasn't expecting. It was  lovely and very romantic, but you'll forgive me for not blogging the ins  and outs, won't you? Wish I had a digital camera! So pretty!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8274522642762774161-558860673458323043?l=incapability.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/feeds/558860673458323043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/09/im-so-excited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/558860673458323043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8274522642762774161/posts/default/558860673458323043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://incapability.blogspot.com/2006/09/im-so-excited.html' title='I&apos;m so excited!!'/><author><name>Mrs.B.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
